Unexpected Friendships

Some friendships are easy to understand.  A friend introduces us, we have things in common, we talk and get along, and it all goes from there.  That's how it usually happens for me.  That's how I met my Very Best Friend, who happens to be my husband.  That's how I met my children's godmother.  Some of my best friends are my family members.  Or sometimes I work with someone and we just click.  Sometimes, though, life throws a friend at me that I just wasn't expecting.

One of my best friends is a teenage boy.  He actually started out as my younger stepson's friend, coming over nearly every day during the summer, accompanied by his brother.  They walked together; they gamed together -- they were nearly inseparable.  The most that I thought about him was to wonder if we'd need an extra place at dinner, or if there was room in the van.

In August of last year, my stepson Titus moved to Texas to live with his mom, and Fletcher was left at a loose end.  He kept coming to our house anyway, mostly out of habit, I think, and would sit at the counter and eat cookies while I worked in the kitchen.  And we talked, and talked, and talked some more.  We exchanged suggestions for books, music, and movies.  And more important than talking, we listened.  I listened to him, and he actually listened to what I said.

Shortly before Christmas, I realized that I no longer thought of him as Titus's friend, but as my friend.  I mean, of course he's still Titus's friend, too, but I no longer made that distinction between his friend and my friend.

It's not at all what I was expecting.  I'm an INFP and I don't make close friends easily.  I like people, and I can be friendly, but those I count among "close" friends are few and far between, and are almost always bookish introverts as well.  Fletcher is most definitely an extrovert, loud and lively and highly energetic.  He likes gaming and watching videos on YouTube, neither of which appeals to me.  It's just odd to me that someone so very different from me could become such an important friend.

I guess what it really boils down to is that I had never bothered to look past the wildly different exterior to see any of his other qualities.  For so long I completely overlooked his compassion, his wonderful artistry, his musical creativity, his sense of humor, his willingness to help, his amazing photography, his ability to really listen, his love for good books and movies, the way he connects with small children, and the reassuring familiarity of a knock on my door at 2:05.  He's like a brother, a son, a nephew, and a cousin, all rolled into one.  He's family.  

I'm actually not writing this as an Ode to Fletcher, although it might sound that way.  I don't even know what he thinks about his classification.  He might be embarrassed to be talked about like this.  I just keep thinking about how I nearly missed one of my best friends, simply because I had already mentally cataloged him -- teenage boy, loud, sometimes obnoxious -- and didn't bother to look further.  And it makes me wonder, how many good friends are you missing out on?  I can't be the only oblivious, snap-judgment person around.  A wonderful addition to your group of friends could be sitting right next to you, and you might not even know it.

It's all about taking the time to really see people and not write them off before you even get to know them.  Friends are some of the best things anyone can have, and there's always room for one more.

Treatments and Options

It has been a long week.  I mean, really, really long.

As you might remember, Matthew's MS doctor put him on oral steroids a few weeks ago to try to control his current MS flare-up.  He hasn't noticed any difference thus far.  Monday the 9th he spoke on the phone with his doctor, who said she'd try to get him scheduled for I.V. steroids.  Appointments usually take a while to make at the VA Hospital, so we were surprised when he got a call the very next day to schedule.  And they were able to get him in right away!  It's a 3-day treatment, so he made appointments for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

Well, since  Matthew's eyesight is still not reliable, I have to drive him.  Not counting any time actually spent at the hospital (check-in, waiting, appointment, getting travel pay), it's a 3-hour trip.  This meant getting last-minute babysitting three days in a row for long periods of time.  It can be tough to get childcare just for a quick trip to the grocery store.

My heroes for those three days are my sister-by-birth Dorcas and my sister-by-choice Savanna.  Dorcas took my kidlings for Wednesday and half of Thursday; Savanna picked them up from Dorcas on Thursday and brought them home, and watched them again on Friday.  Savanna said Fletcher also helped her out a good bit on Friday before he had to leave for work, for which I am very thankful.

So--we drove up to Portland and back Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  By the end of that time we were burnt out and frazzled, and so were the kids.  They missed us, and their crazy behavior told us so.  Oh my, their behavior has been enough to make me want to rip my hair out!  And Saturday I had more things going on, because my Uncle Jerry was in town visiting, and I hadn't seen him for probably close to ten years.  I didn't want to pass up the opportunity!  So Uncle Jerry and my sister Annetta drove out to my house to hang out for a while.  I was very, very glad not to be driving anywhere!

 Today we were supposed to go have dinner with the family in Salem, but my children were acting out in the most dreadful ways.  I'm afraid I lost it and started yelling.  It takes so long to develop patience!  In any case, I decided it would be better to stay home.  Poor Rowan sobbed for twenty minutes after I told him, although he had been warned many times about having to stay home if he did not obey.  Sometimes it seems like potential consequences just don't click in his mind.  Sigh..

Now I'm counting down the minutes to bedtime while Rowan and Henry watch Go, Diego, Go!  Actually I've been anticipating bedtime since at least 4:30.  I am so ready to stop being an adult today!

There's one more thing I should mention.  When Matthew spoke to his doctor on Monday, they discussed the fact that Tecfidera has not been controlling his multiple sclerosis like it should be.  So--in all probability, he's going to go back on Tysabri, at least for a while.

Yes, that Tysabri.

Yes, the medicine that could potentially give him a fatal brain disease.

Yes, the medicine he stopped taking because antibodies for that fatal brain disease were found in his blood.

This is an extremely scary thing for us.  We don't know what will happen if/when he starts up Tysabri again.  He's stopped taking the Tecfidera so it can be completely out of his system before he starts the other.  Who knows?  It might make everything better, give him feeling in his feet again, bring his pain levels down from the permanent-minimum of 5.  It might do nothing.

It might kill him.  We simply don't know.  That is a risk that Matthew is prepared to take, because the way things are going now is simply not sustainable.  He is exhausted simply by existing.  Breathing.  Opening his eyes.  Making a cup of tea.  Standing.  Sitting.  Any one of those drains his energy far past what you or I would call extreme fatigue.  Resting for a while sometimes helps, but not always.  Sleep sometimes helps, but not always.  The fatigue just goes on and on and endlessly on.

So pray for us, please, as we approach the medicine transition time.  Pray that we make the right decisions for Matthew's health.  Pray that we keep enough strength to get through each day.  Pray that we don't lose our focus on what is important.  Pray that we show kindness and love to our children even when we're grumpy and tired and just want to crash.

And if you feel like taking the children off our hands for an hour or two--we would sure appreciate it.

Please join our Walk MS team, Mighty Socks.

How We're Doing

I am frequently asked how Matthew is doing.  For those who aren't aware, Matthew has multiple sclerosis, also referred to as MS.  He was officially diagnosed in 2005, although he started having symptoms as early as 2002.  So, here's what's happening:

Well, actually I'll take you back to 2008, when Matthew was finally put on a drug that actually worked:  Tysabri.  He had already tried Rebif and Avonex, both self-injections, which gave him terrible chills and cold sweats and didn't seem to do anything helpful.  In June of 2008, however, his healthcare provider introduced him to Tysabri, a once-a-month infusion.  Spending one day every month in the Portland VA wasn't great, but it was nicer than daily injections!  And the best part was, he didn't experience any side effects.  It kept his MS symptoms under control and allowed him to lead a fairly active lifestyle.

The only potentially worrisome thing about it was that there had been cases of Tysabri patients developing progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy (PML), a potentially fatal brain disease.  However, blood tests were done every month for the first year, and every three months for the years following, so we felt safe in continuing.

Two years ago, in January of 2013, Matthew's regular blood test showed antibodies for PML.  They couldn't find any trace of the actual disease, for which we were very thankful, but the presence of antibodies was troublesome.  On the advice of his care provider, Matthew stopped the Tysabri treatments.

Things went downhill rapidly after that.

In March of 2013 Matthew was put on Copaxone, another self-injection drug.  The chills began again, and his symptoms actually seemed to be worse than the two months he'd gone without medicine.  He stopped it after only a month.

August 2013 brought another new medicine, this one fresh out of the testing stage:  Tecfidera.  This one was a twice-daily oral drug, a very new thing in the MS treatment world.  No more shots!  No more infusions!  Unlike all the self-injection drugs, Tecfidera appeared to actually control his MS symptoms, although not quite as effectively as the Tysabri had done.  Or maybe the multiple sclerosis was just getting worse?  It's hard to tell.

Whatever the case, in February of 2014 Matthew had to take a leave of absence from work.  He felt crippling pain at every moment of every day, usually listing a 6-7 on the 0-10 pain scale.  He could barely walk.  His temporary leave of absence turned into four months on short-term disability, thankfully paid for by his insurance.  He returned to work in June, not quite back to his old self, but good enough, by his estimation, to keep going.  He doesn't like to give up.

February 7 of this year, as Matthew drove his usual Saturday delivery route, his feet and legs suddenly fell asleep.  He shifted his position, moved around a bit to wake them up, but they refused to wake.

They still haven't.

He called in sick to work that Monday and Tuesday, hoping the feeling would come back to his feet.  By Wednesday, when his feet remained stubbornly asleep, he knew he would have to make the call about going on short-term disability again.

So, well, that's where we are now.  Matthew is officially on short-term disability from work, although we have yet to see a paycheck for it.  His sense of balance continues to diminish; this morning when he tried to stand up from his chair, he immediately fell back into it.  He says it feels like he's walking on stilts.

His eyes have also gone crazy, with his vision crossing and losing focus frequently in the past few days.  Yesterday he drove himself to an appointment in Salem and had to call me to pick him up, because he didn't trust his vision to get him home safely.  This morning he discovered that he has a blind spot in his left eye.  It's not always there; it's more prevalent when he's tired or stressed.  It leaves and comes back again. This means he won't be able to renew his commercial driver's license when it expires this week. Hopefully the symptoms will go away again soon! 

Matthew's energy levels are pretty much nonexistent.  In the mornings he gets up, if he can, and has breakfast with the children.  This exhausts him so much that usually he must collapse in his chair for an hour or two afterward.  He sometimes drags himself out again for lunch, if he's not too weary.  I've been making good use of the breakfast tray my mom gave me, taking food up to him when he can't manage the stairs.

Last summer Matthew put in a request to have his VA disability re-evaluated.  He is still listed at the baseline for MS.  Unfortunately, it seems that they "expect you to have all those symptoms,"so he was rejected.  We should probably file an appeal.

If you want to support us in our search to find a cure for MS, please consider joining Matthew's Walk MS team or donating to it.  We would love to have you walk with us!  And if you have any more questions about how we're doing, please feel free to ask.  We're glad to have you with us as we deal with this!

Building a Fence

Well.

Well.

This last weekend we built a fence.  Technically we already had a fence, but large sections of it had fallen down, which is not good for child containment, and it wasn't built very well to begin with, anyway.  So, we pulled out about half the fence and removed it entirely, and constructed a new fence to put in its place.  Saturday was for deconstruction and digging post holes.  We had originally planned on having two people do deconstruction (Noah and Richie volunteered eagerly for this) while two people constructed after them (that would be Fletcher and me), partially because we thought we'd have to do everything Sunday.  Fletcher usually works all day Saturday, and Richie had a friend over for the weekend.

As it happened, Fletcher took the day off Saturday for something else that didn't happen, and was available to work.  Noah, unfortunately, never emerged to help, so Richie brought his friend Liam over to assist, and we all did deconstruction.  I don't have pictures of Saturday because my phone was claimed by small children grieving at being banned from the work site.  Oh, wait--Noah did help for five minutes, unloading lumber from the truck before disappearing again.  Sigh.

So Saturday we took the faulty bits of the fence down, pulled a lot of nails, and broke rotting boards into manageable pieces before tossing them into the truck bed.  The boys took great delight in breaking the boards, feeling very macho, I'm sure.  When enough rubble had been cleared, Fletcher dug the post holes.  I assisted somewhat with those.

I should mention, at this point, that we likely would have gotten nothing done if Matthew and Carol had not been managing the small children.  I am so, so very glad that they were able to do that so I could work outside!  Otherwise either it would have been a 3-person team instead of a 4-person team, or else Paul would have jumped in and tried to do more than supervise, likely resulting in his shoulder getting damaged again.  And we were very glad for Paul's supervision!  We hadn't thought at all about leveling the posts or how to line them up neatly!

We wanted to get the posts set Saturday, so they could dry overnight, but it got too dark and we had to stop work.  Fletcher came over early Sunday morning so we could get that done and give them time to dry before doing the rest of the fence.  There is exactly one picture of this stage, taken by Paul:

We set three fence posts, plus two "extra" posts that will eventually hold a platform for the kidlings to play on.

After setting the posts we cleaned up our work area a bit, then Richie and Fletcher hammered planks in to repair the fence on the east side while Matthew and I made a run to Subway.

Rowan and Henry had to help, of course--Rowan by banging a garden fork on our stone pathway, and Henry by digging dirt in the garden.  Rowan later dug up some potatoes from last year that had somehow been missed.

 After lunch we got into the serious fence building on the north side of things.  It was then that we first realized that Fletcher is a vampire, sans sparkles.

Richie dragged Noah out of the house shortly after this point and they left to walk the dog, so I took over building the fence with Fletcher.  Noah and Richie assisted when they got back.  I am particularly thankful for Richie's leather gloves holding back prickly branches so I didn't get stabbed while working.

We finished the fence around 6:00 p.m.--about an hour later than we had anticipated, but before dark set in!  And WOOHOO!  We got everything done in two days!  We're hoping to start building the platform Monday.  Our hardworking workers have offered to help us then, as well.  Suddenly a list of projects I've been wanting to do forever has begun parading itself in my mind.  Bathroom cabinets!  Play house!  Outdoor kitchen!  I guess we'll see how far our money and energy can take us.

And once again, I must laud Matthew for holding our home together while I worked outside.  It's entirely thanks to him that I had clean clothes to wear yesterday and today.  Carol prepared food so we didn't have to worry about dinner.  Thank you, thank you everyone who helped us get this project done! 

I just realized that I never put in photos of the finished project.  Here you go:

Friends and Thanks

There are some people to whom I owe thanks.  In this crazy world of diapers, children tugging on clothes, and toys getting flung everywhere, it can be hard to hang on to my peace and sanity.  I don't write as much as I want to--as I need to.  I don't eat, sleep, or shower as much as I want to.  Conversations with other adults are minimal, usually restricted to five minutes or less snatched with Matthew before someone hollers my name and I must clean up pee, fix a snack, let the dog in, break up an argument, or become a human jungle gym.

I know a lot of this is common to stay-at-home parents, so they will understand what I mean when I say that most days I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of a breakdown.  I fantasize about white, sandy beaches and turquoise water, with not a soul in sight, and blessed, blissful silence except for the gentle sound of the waves.  I'm hanging on to that dream, and someday I fully intend to whisk Matthew away to an island paradise for a week or so.

For now, however, I'm in the trenches, and there are certain people--quite a few, actually--who make life so much more enjoyable.  I want to publicly recognize them, so they know that I see and appreciate them.  In no particular order, here are the people who, at this point in time, most frequently help me to smile and laugh:

My parents.  You are so welcoming, so thoughtful and inclusive; you treat my stepchildren with the same courtesy you extend to all your grandchildren.  You offer to babysit even when you've had a long day and you really should rest.  You are generous, offering to pay for so much.  You are witty, mild-tempered, gracious, and fun.  You love adventure, which is surely where my children got it from.

My in-laws.  You have welcomed us in your home, which I know you insist is our home, since we're all in it together.  It's never easy to share space with another set of adults, but you have made it enjoyable.  You often fix breakfast and coffee for us; you watch the children while I go grocery shopping so I don't have to drag my children through the store.  You stay up late listening for small children so Matthew and I can sneak out for a quick date.  You take Rowan on excursions to see train shows.  You play Candy Crush with Henry, who delights in that special time with you.

Savanna.  You are my sister-by-choice, godmother to my children and willing babysitter.  You are one of the Very Few non-relatives I allow to watch my children.  You snuggle Henry and allow Rowan to pet your hair.  (Believe me, I know how difficult that can be.)  You bake cookies with me and help me deliver them to UPS.  You take on projects so crazy that I can't help but laugh and join in.  You write, and help can pears, and then write some more.  You are a Slytherin by nature.  Shall I go on?

My sisters.  I was going to list each of you individually, but I feel like I'd be repeating myself in every paragraph.  You are so fun, so adventurous; you make me laugh when we get together.  I wish it happened more frequently.  You jog with me; you write with me; you have adorable children whom my own children adore.  Rowan often asks about Baby F and Baby P.  You watch my children when you can, and allow me to watch yours in return.  You share pictures and funny quotes, allowing me to share in the joy of your lives even when we don't see each other often.

Julie.  You call me, you text, you send cards in the mail.  I don't reciprocate nearly as much as I would like to.  You show genuine interest in my life and give sound advice.  You start me reading really good books like The Sword of Truth.  My children adore you with good reason!

Katy.  I so enjoy your wit and humor!  You make me smile; you let Rowan and Henry snuggle you when you're here.  You post videos and memes that brighten my day.  You let us borrow your daughter frequently, which is lovely.  You share fantastic dragons on my wall.

Noah.  You work with a will, even when it's work you'd rather not be doing.  You wrestle with Rowan and let me take pictures.  You help me in the kitchen and you make really good taco meat.  You find hilarious and/or cool videos and share them with me.  You also have excellent taste in music.

Richie.  You have very strong opinions but are cautious in expressing them.  You think before speaking.  You brighten Noah's day, which in turn makes me happy.  You eat the cookies I make and ask for more, which is the highest compliment a baker can get.  You find and play fabulous piano music for me.

Fletcher.  You speak with enthusiasm about Transformers, Star Wars, and Skulduggery Pleasant.  You drink tea and eat the food I put in front of you.  You take Rowan to the park for lightsaber duels, sometimes lasting two hours.  You are willing to work when the opportunity is presented.  You sit and chat and keep me company while I'm working in the kitchen.  You have become an integral part of one of my trios of friends.

Matthew.  I had to save you for last, dearest, because I am the most thankful for you.  You brighten my days and warm my nights.  You retain your fabulous wit and humor in the midst of crippling pain.  You text me love notes across the room.  You make tea for me in the mornings.  You kiss my hand like I'm a fancy lady.  You read with Rowan and Henry.  You surprise me with Roald Dahl books, then get the audio books from the library.  You walk to the pub with me for date nights, even though it's increasingly difficult for you to stand and keep your balance.  You compliment me to make me blush like a little girl.

There are so many more people I could mention; ones who chat with me in the park or post humorous things on Facebook.  I am thankful for all of my friends; if I had no reason to be thankful, I probably would not stay friends with them!  These are the ones who particularly make my life pleasant, when the stresses of the day make me want to curl into a ball and hide for three years.  They help me feel alive and human again.  When I'm upset about Matthew having to go on disability from work, or all the laundry piled to the ceiling, or trying to reason with my autistic children, or any number of things--these people are my de-stressers.  I love you all so much!  Thank you for being a part of my life!

Why Anna is Better Than Elsa

Uh, hi.

I feel like I should explain, I got on the Frozen bandwagon rather late.  That is, I wanted to see it in theaters, but it seems like there's never really time to go.  And then it took me a long time to buy it on DVD, and even then I still didn't watch it for, oh, maybe two months or so.  (Part of the reason was that a neighboring teenage boy borrowed my copy until he could buy his own.)

And yes, I bought it for myself.  Not for my children, or for nieces or friends.  I bought Frozen because I wanted to watch it.  And I liked it.  And yes, I'm planning to train my voice to sing "Let It Go" in all its glory, although it's really not the best song.

Anyway, that's not the point of this post.  I have noticed that the primary character obsession for those who like Frozen is Elsa.  Elsa dresses, Elsa posters, Elsa stickers, etc.  Elsa, Elsa, Elsa!  This bothers me, because Elsa has some serious characters flaws, whereas Anna, who is generally overlooked, is actually pretty badass.  Elsa is primarily self-centered and gives up easily; Anna is loving and devoted and determined.

Starting from just after Anna's memory was altered (which was completely unnecessary, BTW), we see the first hints of her devotion.  For reasons unknown to her, Elsa suddenly shuts the door and won't play with her anymore.  It appears that no explanation is given, not even, "Elsa is ill and can't come out."  This must have felt like complete rejection to the little girl, especially since Elsa won't even speak through the door to her.  And yet, through all the years that follow, she still loves her sister and wants to be close to her.

Do you want to build a snowman?

It's been so long since we last played.

You don't talk to me anymore,

You've slammed the door,

I love you anyway.

 I don't know why you shun me; what did I do?

Is this how our lives should be?

I know I love you, Sister;

Do you love me?

 Even after their parents die, Elsa still offers no explanation for her seclusion.  Anna reaches out and offers comfort while feeling bereft herself, and Elsa refuses to acknowledge her.  Instead of telling Anna what the hell is going on, Elsa allows her to continue feeling rejected and unwanted.  I mean, really, how hard would it be to tell grown-up Anna, "Hey, Sis, I'm freaking out because I'm freezing everything in sight, and I'm really scared that I'll freeze you, too, so that's why I can't hang out with you but maybe we can wave at each other across the hall"?

Nope.  Elsa has to wallow in her own misery.

And then the ball.  Ah, yes, the ball.  Elsa does try to make polite conversation here, but still refuses to explain their seclusion.  Anna, who has been starved for love, basically decides that she is alive and happy, and by golly she is going to act on it!  No more wallowing around the palace for her!  Unfortunately she makes a rather poor choice in fiances, but she's making an effort to get her life moving, unlike her sister.  And when she presents her fiance to the Queen, she is told she can't marry him still without further explanation.

 When Elsa's power is revealed to all, she very naturally runs away.  It's understandable.  She's scared.  But then there's her lovely little song on the mountaintop in which she declares, "No right or wrong; no rules for me!"

Ah.  There's where she shows her true colors.  There is always right and wrong.  Those two things are inescapable.  One cannot justly live with complete disregard for all others--others including her own sister (whom she abandons without a further thought) and her subjects, for whom she is responsible.

Anna, meanwhile, has thoughts only for her sister.  At last she understands the seclusion.  She sets off immediately to find Elsa and tell her, "I love you, I need you, your kingdom needs you, I understand, you didn't do anything wrong."  She delegates the responsibility of running the kingdom to her fiance--a terrible choice, yes, but at least she doesn't run off and leave nobody in authority.  Even in her rush, she takes time to put someone in charge.

Anna loses her horse.  She keeps going.  She finds a trader, gets what she needs, and commandeers a guide and transportation.  She keeps moving, bound by duty and love.  She is making things happen.  She doesn't waste her time sitting around moping.  She finds a snowman and directs him to take her to Elsa.

At the palace, although hesitant, she goes in.  Elsa reverts to her tired old lines:  "What are you doing here?  Go away, Anna."  Anna tries desperately to explain what's happened to the kingdom, but Elsa is so accustomed to ignoring her sister that she talks right over her.  She doesn't ask how Anna will handle running a kingdom when she's had no training for it; she doesn't even consider that maybe her sister really, truly loves her despite everything and wants to be with her.  She spouts again, "I'm fine and happy without you; go away."

Anna still tries.  She says, "Let's work on this together.  We can figure it out."  Elsa replies, "There's no point; I'll just stay by myself."

Anna:  For the first time in forever,

I know what you're going through;

And I know it's hard to deal with,

But I'll always stand by you.

Elsa:  I've been living for this day.

I no longer have to wait.

You're not worth the effort I would have to make.

Oh, Elsa.  You're so sweet and charming.  Think how differently things could have gone if she'd simply said, "Anna, let's sit down and talk about this." Instead, she argues and commands until she loses her grip and once again strikes Anna.  She doesn't even check to see if Anna is okay; she just conjures up a creature to chase them out.

Anna does not give up that easily.  When Kristoff points out that her hair is changing, she does have to make a brief detour, but she has every intention of going back to Elsa.  When Hans betrays her, she barely even thinks of herself--she says, "You're no match for Elsa."  All of her concern is still for her sister.

Elsa, on the other hand, finally takes a little action and blasts her way out of prison, only to run away again.  She doesn't stop to see how Anna is doing; her mind is so wrapped up with her own issues that she doesn't have room to think of anyone else.

Anna staggers along looking for Kristoff, in the hopes he can cure her with a kiss, but she sees him at the same time she sees Hans about to behead Elsa.  Such a sweetie, that Hans.  With no thought for her own safety, Anna flings herself between Elsa and the sword.

Let's stop and take a look at that again.  Anna does not know that she will turn into solid ice in time, and Hans's sword will break on her.  As far as she knows, she'll have a sword plunged into her chest and be leaking partially-frozen blood all over the place.  Even if she anticipates turning into an ice sculpture, she has no idea that she can turn back into a living, breathing girl.  She completely sacrifices herself for a sister who, for most of her life, has ignored her, belittled her choices, rejected her, and told her to go away.

She loves her sister that much.

Elsa does finally notice that, hey, someone besides her has problems.  Oh, look at you, Sister!  I didn't notice you were even here!  Awfully nice of you to get in the way of that sword for me!  Instead of doing something constructive, like freezing Prince Hans, she reverts to her usual emotional state and starts weeping.

Okay, I can forgive her for that.  I'd be weeping, too.

Then Anna revives and Elsa finally says, "Wow, I guess it really is nice to have you around.  I guess you can stay."  It only took her sister literally giving up her life for her for Elsa to accept that maybe she should listen once in a while.

So then the populace, being wonderful sheep, say, "We hated you when you made it snow before, but this time we like it when you make it snow.  Same stuff, but this time we like you and are going to cheer." Elsa struts around and feels fantastic.

Anna, having learned a valuable lesson from Prince Hans but refusing to let one mistake rule the rest of her life, opens herself to the possibility of a relationship with Kristoff but takes it a lot slower this time.  She remains happy and giddy and full of life, and, as far as we can tell, harbors no ill will toward Elsa for her wretched behavior.

Yeah, Elsa can freeze stuff, but Anna is the real heroine of this story.  She has no huge musical number, is made to look like a clumsy and bumbling idiot, and is generally overlooked, and she still manages to be an absolutely amazing, tolerant, kind, loving, and forgiving badass.  That's my kind of girl.

P.S. In case you didn't figure it out, the conversations are paraphrased and I rewrote the songs.

Thirty

One of my friends is turning 30 tomorrow.  She is terrified by the aging process, dyeing her hair to hide the hereditary gray creeping in and turning more to natural solutions for everything.  She is convinced that she is somehow lacking in adulthood, since she doesn't have the "standard" mortgage-marriage-two-children she thinks is necessary by age 30.

To all of that, I say, "Bah."  Here I am, thirty-one.  Yes, I'm married, for almost seven years now.  Two step-children, two biological children.  But as for mortgage...we live with my husband's parents.  We share a minivan between the two of us.  We frequently struggle to make ends meet.  There is no way we have it all together.

And you know what?  That's okay.  Maybe most people's lives do wind up somewhat together by age 30.  That's great for them.  I really am happy for them, truly.  That's just not the way ours has gone.  Not the way hers has gone.  For us, we got tied in to a third share of a mortgage prior to our marriage, and then a house that never sold.  It's not ideal, but it's where we are, and there are so many blessings associated with it, not least of which is having two loving grandparents in the home with our children.

For my friend, two grandparents and her mother started having mental issues at the same time.  Someone needed to care for them, and she made the choice--yes, the choice--to be that Someone.  She could have left.  She could have packed up and gone, and carried on with her life.  She could have enlisted an uncaring state worker to check in on her loved ones while she got her career, family, and house.

She could have done that.

Instead, she sacrificed her dreams one by one, as her mother's health problems increased and her grandparents' minds slowly slipped away.  She took on the incredible responsibility of regulating medications, arranging doctor visits and providing transportation, and ensuring safety in the home.  Her social life all but vanished so she could be home in the evenings with those she cared for.  For this, she was reviled by family and "friends."  She was accused of "seeking attention" when she reported behavior changes and anger outbreaks from her charges.  She was called a liar.  She was refused help.

Still she kept on, until finally there was no option other than to put her grandparents in a care facility.  This brought some relief, but also overwhelming guilt, because she felt like she should have been able to do it all--and she still had her mother to care for.  They moved far from friends.  They moved closer.  She is still her mother's primary caregiver, unpaid, managing groceries and medicine and doctor visits and long, boring phone calls with insurance.  She stays because there is a need, and she is willing to stand in the gap there.  She stays because she loves.

So, Friend-Who's-Turning-30, here are some things for you to think about:

1) You are strong.  You are brave.  You are competent.  You could have crumbled under the weight of the burdens you've borne, but you have stood firm as a rock, unmoved by what life throws at you.

2) You are loving and compassionate.  You love and are broken by what you see happening in those you love, and yet still you choose to love, and love, and keep on loving.  You choose to love any who are willing to receive it, you love when it's hard and heartbreaking, you love even when you want to scream in frustration.

3) You are patient beyond belief.  I know it doesn't feel like it.  I know.  The reality is, you have been forced to be patient for So Many Years.  Many other people would take a lifetime to build up the store of patience you possess.

4) You have a quick wit and keep humor ready on your tongue in all situations.

5) You are fabulous with small children, even though you don't think so.

6) Think back on your attitudes and opinions from when you were 20.  Think back to even just two years ago.  Is that where you would rather be?  Do you like the changes time has brought to your convictions and opinions, or do you want to change them back?  Personally, I think you have worked well with time to make yourself an even better version of who you were ten years ago.

7) You really do like hanging out with teenagers.  I could mention Fletcher, Robin, and Barak.  That's okay; teenagers are fun.

8) There's nothing wrong with having gray hairs.  They are a wonderful excuse to dye your hair every color of the rainbow, and any time some young upstart wants to challenge something you say, you can point to your gray hairs and call it wisdom.

9) You are enough.  YOU are enough.  You are enough.  You are enough.  Yes, I mean you.  You are sufficient to be the woman God created you to be.  You have been put through trials--you were enough.  You have suffered loss and heartbreak--you were enough.  You have been asked to give more of yourself than you thought possible--you were enough.  You have been, you are, and you will be enough.

When thinking of your life up to this point, I am inevitably reminded of Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken.  I'm sure you've read it before, but here it is to remind you:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 You have traveled well.  Keep on traveling, and don't forget--I'm right here with you.  Happy birthday!