The last post I talked about how K, one of the littles had two hammers under her pillow while sleeping in her brother's room. Now this is not shocking to me, as she has always wanted to have some type of "tool" with her at any given time. Gangsta Granny might have perpetuated this need just a little bit, but that's just how she rolls. Well, K suffers from severe anxiety and we are in the process of trying to find therapy for her to help deal with this. She will meltdown at the drop of a dime. She has a distinct fear of being left behind, even though she is included in everything we do as a family.
With all of that being said, I too suffer from severe panic/anxiety myself. This may just be a manifestation from raising her, but it is getting to the point that we need to step in and get her help. I have been working on my anxiety for awhile now and do take medicine to help relieve the anxiousness I feel on a regular basis. Most people think I am happy go lightly, but what they do not know is that I am anxious for a majority of the day. I am coping and I hope that K will be able to cope with this as well, once we find the therapy we are looking for. As parents, we do not want to see our child go through this. It is heartbreaking. We do all we can to make sure she feels secure and safe at all times. But one drawback to her anxiety is the need to ALWAYS have a "tool with her. It's kind of like Linus from Peanuts- he had his blanket; K has her "tools."
I took all the kiddos to the water park last week and my sister called to ask what was in K's hand in the picture. She thought it was her screwdriver, which she does try to take with her. I assured her that it was not the screwdriver, but her rocket toy. But wait there is more...I had to explain that the point on the rocket is rather pointy. Again, I think she has this need to feel safe at all times and having her "tool" of choice that day allows her to do so.
As I raise a multicultural/multiracial family, having been raised in one myself, I noticed one thing; we as a family tend to push these issues under the rug, until it effects our children directly. As an adult, I sought out the help I needed. My sister sought the help she needed. But with K, she can not do so, it is up to me to do that for her. In many black families there is always the auntie or uncle that is always a little "off", but we just laugh it off and just make a joke of it. There is a stigma with mental illness, in our society in general, but in my family and many minority families, we always joked about the auntie that was a little "crazy." We laugh and what they do and say and just ignore the root of the problem. Minorities are less likely to seek help for mental illness, which tells you about the stigma attached to it is great!
NAMI (National Association of Mental Illness) has a wonderful video talking and discussion talking about the reason many African Americans do not get help for mental illness. As a family we are trying to break this stigma and not be the "auntie" and "niece" that is a little "off." We are speaking out about what is going on and if that helps at least one other person know that they do not have to suffer in silence, and there is help for you, then we will SHOUT it from the rooftop. My youngest sister(my ghostwriter) is very open about what she has been through in the last two years and will tell you that having an open discussion about mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Just like talking about the person in your family that has cancer and how they are doing, families need to talk about mental illness as well and how it is not just an "invisible disease," it is physical as well.
If you would like more information about mental illness and ways to get help for you or a family member visit the NAMI website: https://www.nami.org
Off to another adventure with my crew!
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
"Raising a Thug in Suburbia, a Memoir"
Summer time... what a wonderful time of year, where teachers get to recover and parents are now having to figure out what the hell to do with their children, just like the teachers do 180 days of the year. (yes, the ghostwriter is a teacher, so I am writing from experience.) I digress...in our house none of the basketball team really sleeps in their own room, Except for H, he is a big man on campus and has his own room downstairs now. The littles and even C and M all like to pile into one room and sleep together. We make "palettes" or blanket beds on the floor for the littles to sleep on, because they think its fun. K wanted to sleep in Z's room as she often does; no problem. I make the floor up for her with blankets and pillows and they drift off into slumber land.
During the summer, the team still kind of stick to the schedule from the school year. They might stay up a little later, but they do get up around the same time. I however, let my hubby stick to his schedule and get the team ready for the day. I stay my ass in bed...it only makes sense right?
When I do finally get up, I have to clean up- you know that OCD kicks in like my momma's and I have to make my rounds around the upstairs first. I go to pick up the blankets and pillows on the floor where K was sleeping. At this point I am not really even shocked by it anymore...it's just a part of her that somehow, g-ma, (gangsta granny as I will now refer to her as.) has instilled in my small child that you have to be ready for anything. Gangsta Granny, has a "hit you stick" in her car, sleeps with a knife by her bed and might even have several tucked away in random places throughout her house. Ok, ok, you are wondering what I found under the pillow that K was sleeping on...two of her toy hammers places just right for her to grab if needed. I remind you she is sleeping next to her brother, in a house that has a security alarm and a giant ass pit bull as well.What the hell does she need these for? In the past, I have mentioned the screwdriver, the plastic knife and then the switchblade, so again, the hammers are just one more item to add to the list of weapons my cute little with dimples for days and freckles for mile is ready to use when needed. (I swear she might be preparing for the zombie apocalypse.)
During the summer, the team still kind of stick to the schedule from the school year. They might stay up a little later, but they do get up around the same time. I however, let my hubby stick to his schedule and get the team ready for the day. I stay my ass in bed...it only makes sense right?
When I do finally get up, I have to clean up- you know that OCD kicks in like my momma's and I have to make my rounds around the upstairs first. I go to pick up the blankets and pillows on the floor where K was sleeping. At this point I am not really even shocked by it anymore...it's just a part of her that somehow, g-ma, (gangsta granny as I will now refer to her as.) has instilled in my small child that you have to be ready for anything. Gangsta Granny, has a "hit you stick" in her car, sleeps with a knife by her bed and might even have several tucked away in random places throughout her house. Ok, ok, you are wondering what I found under the pillow that K was sleeping on...two of her toy hammers places just right for her to grab if needed. I remind you she is sleeping next to her brother, in a house that has a security alarm and a giant ass pit bull as well.What the hell does she need these for? In the past, I have mentioned the screwdriver, the plastic knife and then the switchblade, so again, the hammers are just one more item to add to the list of weapons my cute little with dimples for days and freckles for mile is ready to use when needed. (I swear she might be preparing for the zombie apocalypse.)
Why do they eat so much???
Summer is upon us and my grocery budget is doubling...anyone else with children notice this phenomenon in their house? As you know me and the hubby have five children- three bigs and then two littles. Now here is the fun part; my pantry is rather large and stays stocked thanks to my savvy shopping and my mother and father who buy certain items the littles like in bulk at the commissary on the base. When our basketball team is at school, the pantry stays rather stocked, since they aren't home all day to eat everything in sight.
H probably eats the most out of all the team. He is 13 now, and he plays sports, so I guess it only makes since that if I want him to surpass his father in height, I better feed him as much food as his body can handle for the human growth hormone to kick in. (I plan on retiring once he gets drafted for whatever sport he settles on after college-so I have to keep him strong!) While my sister and her husband were visiting, my sister pointed out that the littles, K and Z just kind of pick at their food. Now, Z will eat mini muffins that g-ma brings like there is no tomorrow. K and Z love milk, cheese, and yogurt, so that is always on the ready for them. C and M eat, but for the most part they are pretty picky eaters too. So, I have a lot going with this little team of mine. I have to keep the house stocked with certain foods that everyone will eat. Now, again let me stress that when school is in session, this is not a problem.
I went to the store the other day with the intent on just getting CARROTS. Why in the hell did I walk out of the store with a cart full of food? I must have been doing an inventory in my head of the pantry and thinking to myself, we need that, because C likes it and eats it all day, or H needs this for when he is at practice, and then M and the littles love this as well...WTF! There are five mouths but they eat like we have 15 children in the house. I try to send them to their friend's house so they can eat their food, but they keep coming back home and eating everything! I just keep telling myself, H only has to eat food in this house for five more years and then he will only be back on holidays and breaks from college. M is right around the same time frame as H. But then I think about C, Z and K-I can't even count how many years left that they will be consuming vast amounts of food from this house. I just know that I need to start putting a few dollars back each school year so I am ready for the summer food extravaganza!
H probably eats the most out of all the team. He is 13 now, and he plays sports, so I guess it only makes since that if I want him to surpass his father in height, I better feed him as much food as his body can handle for the human growth hormone to kick in. (I plan on retiring once he gets drafted for whatever sport he settles on after college-so I have to keep him strong!) While my sister and her husband were visiting, my sister pointed out that the littles, K and Z just kind of pick at their food. Now, Z will eat mini muffins that g-ma brings like there is no tomorrow. K and Z love milk, cheese, and yogurt, so that is always on the ready for them. C and M eat, but for the most part they are pretty picky eaters too. So, I have a lot going with this little team of mine. I have to keep the house stocked with certain foods that everyone will eat. Now, again let me stress that when school is in session, this is not a problem.
I went to the store the other day with the intent on just getting CARROTS. Why in the hell did I walk out of the store with a cart full of food? I must have been doing an inventory in my head of the pantry and thinking to myself, we need that, because C likes it and eats it all day, or H needs this for when he is at practice, and then M and the littles love this as well...WTF! There are five mouths but they eat like we have 15 children in the house. I try to send them to their friend's house so they can eat their food, but they keep coming back home and eating everything! I just keep telling myself, H only has to eat food in this house for five more years and then he will only be back on holidays and breaks from college. M is right around the same time frame as H. But then I think about C, Z and K-I can't even count how many years left that they will be consuming vast amounts of food from this house. I just know that I need to start putting a few dollars back each school year so I am ready for the summer food extravaganza!
Sunday, June 12, 2016
We are back....
Did you miss the wonderful stories of my amazing family? (Well, as the ghostwriter for my sister and her basketball team, I have been super busy with finishing up my degree and getting ready to start my doctorate soon, so I have a good excuse.)
Let's see...had my youngest sister and her husband finally make the trip with our mom for the weekend. This is a big deal, she suffers from super anxiety like I do, so I applaud her for doing it. It was a fun time, her husband got to meet my husband and they hit it off quickly. They bonded over letting my mom tell them where to place the plants and rock in the garden.
Now you know this can't be a Carr story without someone screaming or hurting themselves, soooooo:
1. K. the little of the littles has my sister running around trying to find a pair a shoes that she can wear outside...but let me tell you something K had already got mud on three pairs and was trying to get over on my sister-YES THERE WAS SCREAMING FROM K, no she did not have her plastic knife or screwdriver with her to attack her auntie for not giving in to her! But she knew what was up, she wasn't about to let a little get over on her. (She has been subbing with littles, so she has figured out how to talk to them.) After the third time wanting to change shoes, she was relegated to either sitting in the house with her auntie or wearing a pair of shoes that were already dirty. IN the end K and my sister and then Z sat in the living room and talked, she even got Z to eat strawberries and kiwi. She sat with K after Z went back outside to help, and just talked with her. (Maybe she is turning into the little kid whisperer.)
2. Took mom and sister to the store, while the men folk grilled. Momma had bought red potatoes and wanted them grilled. She has them wrapped up and ready to take out to the grill. (Backstory: my mom has been wearing these "croc" wannabe shoes for awhile and I told her they were ugly and not good for her feet.) As my mother walks down the steps to the back yard, she steps on the train of her long ass dress, slips, because those damn shoes have not grip and holds onto the potatoes the whole way down five concrete steps! The two hubbies are outside, but aren't sure what they really heard, so they come running and find my mother on the ground with a tin foil packet of potatoes in her hand. My hubby runs to help my mother up, "with the strength of two men she cracked my bones in my arm" according to my husband, as my sisters hubby runs inside to tell us that she fell. "OHHHHH LOOOOORRRRRD!" is all the bigs heard while sitting in the living room right off the back of the house. The oldest big, had to make fun of g-ma..."OHHHHHH LOOOORRRRD! Pimp Down!" So, long story short, my mother goes home in the boot my husband had when he had foot surgery about three years ago.
Just to give you a little to wet your whistle...
Let's see...had my youngest sister and her husband finally make the trip with our mom for the weekend. This is a big deal, she suffers from super anxiety like I do, so I applaud her for doing it. It was a fun time, her husband got to meet my husband and they hit it off quickly. They bonded over letting my mom tell them where to place the plants and rock in the garden.
Now you know this can't be a Carr story without someone screaming or hurting themselves, soooooo:
1. K. the little of the littles has my sister running around trying to find a pair a shoes that she can wear outside...but let me tell you something K had already got mud on three pairs and was trying to get over on my sister-YES THERE WAS SCREAMING FROM K, no she did not have her plastic knife or screwdriver with her to attack her auntie for not giving in to her! But she knew what was up, she wasn't about to let a little get over on her. (She has been subbing with littles, so she has figured out how to talk to them.) After the third time wanting to change shoes, she was relegated to either sitting in the house with her auntie or wearing a pair of shoes that were already dirty. IN the end K and my sister and then Z sat in the living room and talked, she even got Z to eat strawberries and kiwi. She sat with K after Z went back outside to help, and just talked with her. (Maybe she is turning into the little kid whisperer.)
2. Took mom and sister to the store, while the men folk grilled. Momma had bought red potatoes and wanted them grilled. She has them wrapped up and ready to take out to the grill. (Backstory: my mom has been wearing these "croc" wannabe shoes for awhile and I told her they were ugly and not good for her feet.) As my mother walks down the steps to the back yard, she steps on the train of her long ass dress, slips, because those damn shoes have not grip and holds onto the potatoes the whole way down five concrete steps! The two hubbies are outside, but aren't sure what they really heard, so they come running and find my mother on the ground with a tin foil packet of potatoes in her hand. My hubby runs to help my mother up, "with the strength of two men she cracked my bones in my arm" according to my husband, as my sisters hubby runs inside to tell us that she fell. "OHHHHH LOOOOORRRRRD!" is all the bigs heard while sitting in the living room right off the back of the house. The oldest big, had to make fun of g-ma..."OHHHHHH LOOOORRRRD! Pimp Down!" So, long story short, my mother goes home in the boot my husband had when he had foot surgery about three years ago.
Just to give you a little to wet your whistle...
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