A special (needs) Mother’s Day

Last weekend I told you that my mom left early before she could celebrate my son’s accomplishments at state by going out to eat with us.

What I didn’t tell you was by the time she got home my brother Matt was sick. He was sick enough to lose 9 lbs in less than a week. He couldn’t keep down any food. He was also having involuntary movement of his jaw. He was anxious and restless without much sleep.

My mom scheduled a doctor appointment for Matt after he was sick for several days without improving. The doctor thought that he was going through withdrawal.

Last month Matt’s liver was showing signs of stress so it was decided that he would go off of his anti-psychotic meds that he was on for almost 20 years.

Apparently his psychiatrist took him off his medication too fast. Then he retired and moved to Florida without a replacement.

I feel really sad about everything that happened over this past week, not just for my brother but for my mother too.

I really want to spend Mother’s Day with my mom tomorrow but it seems like she is too busy mothering.

Is it selfish of me to want my mother to myself? To want her to fully participate in my kids events?? Should I want that when my brother needs her so much more??

When I was on speaker phone with my mom a few days ago, I could hear Matt throwing up in the background. I could hear the pain in my mom’s voice.

To be honest, I just want to run away from the whole situation..

I want to be able to spend the day with my mom tomorrow, but at this point I am not sure what is going to happen..

Sometimes I even feel guilty for wanting my mom’s time.

Mother’s Day is the least of her concerns right now, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it to be special for her…and not in the special needs kind of way..

What I truly want for Mother’s Day

What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Baby, I want to hold your tiny hand in mine one more time.

I want to gather you back into the safety of my nest.

I want to be able to kiss your owwies and take away your pain.

I want you to still think that I have all of the answers and that the world is a good and magical place.

I want to sit you on my lap and read your favorite stories…I can’t seem to remember the day it all ended.

I want to laugh off the people that say it goes by so fast as I hold a crying baby in my arms.

What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Mother, I want to see the excitement in your eyes as I give you my scribbles on a piece of pink construction paper.

I want to see the beauty of your young face and the natural color of your hair. I don’t want to see signs of you slipping away from me.

I don’t want to think that this could be our last year together like last year was for my husband’s mother.

I want to think that the little things I do or say give you lasting happiness more than flowers or a card someone else wrote on this one day of the year.

What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Grandma, how I long to hear your voice again…to hear you sing like a bird…to tell you that you gave my daughter your gift. I want you to fully understand the influence you have had on my life and how that impacted my children.

I want to smell fresh cookies as I walk into your house and know that you made a special batch just for me.

I want you to answer the phone when I call.

I long to see your house again, the way it was before the new people moved in.

I want to smell your sweet perfume, even the scent that remains in the half empty bottle is beginning to fade.

I wish you could walk alongside of me on this journey again..

This is what I truly want for Mother’s Day.

The little waves that rock my boat

I don’t feel much like writing today. I have been feeling somewhat down and unsettled lately. I’m not even sure why.

Why does it seem that when I lack motivation the normal everyday things seem twice as hard to do and half as enjoyable?

The weekend started out good. Friday night I fell asleep watching a movie. Apparently my body’s idea of relaxing is falling asleep. I also argued with my son that he needed to spend the night at home instead of at his friend’s since he was performing at state the next day.

Saturday my son performed wonderfully by playing a very difficult band solo at state and receiving a perfect score. After playing, the judge asked him if he thought about music as a future career.

It wouldn’t be our first child to receive a perfect score at state and decide to go into music. Oh, just what I need two unemployment musicians living in our basement. I did my part of trying to talk them out of it..LOL. It’s exciting to see them perform, to see where it might take them..

Then there is child number 3. She dropped out of band this year. She is starting to feel pressure from everyone to live up to her siblings’ success in music. She laments over being average.

Friday night I called my mom to see if she was going to watch Alex at state. Of course, the day before is too early to tell which way the wind is blowing and make a decision about whether or not to go. When I called my mom she was in crisis mode. Someone new is working at the group home and neglected to fill my brother’s prescription before he went home for the weekend. My mom went to pick Matt up and was notified of this 5 minutes before the pharmacy closed.

My mom did end up going along to state. She was my back up recorder of the performance. Good thing since my phone crapped out and decided not to record anymore after about a minute. I wanted to take my son’s instrument and smash my phone but that would be rather distracting.

After Alex performed at state, we decided to take him out to eat at the restaurant of his choice. We had a group going including Alex, our youngest Arabella, my husband Paul, his step-dad Darryl, my mom, and the accompanist. For our large group, we had to wait awhile for our table. My mom left right away stating she had to give Matt his medication and feed him. We all wanted her to stay. But no one else could take care of Matt like she can, not even my dad who stayed home with Matt, so she left.

I felt a little sad that she left. I watched Darryl and the accompanist laugh and have fun and thought that it should be my mom too. She shouldn’t be tied down for life.

Maybe that is the point that everything ended for me.

I felt hurt that my mom left. I took everything personally that people said to me.

My husband and son teased me about hanging towels on the clothes line. They don’t like their towels stiff, but I do. I was probably overreacting, but their comments upset me. It made me feel unappreciated. I felt like they wanted me to change the way I do things which I refuse to do. I find myself to be just as stubborn, stiff, and unbending as the towels.

Things spiraled down from there.

It is hard to live in a house where everyone knows my weaknesses. I am a bit of a control freak. I already told you that I have this ‘rule’ to turn the lights off in every room after I leave it. Sometimes people will do things to bother me like leave the lights on in an empty room or turn the lights on after I turn them off.

Why should I be allowed to control the lights in a house other people live in?

How can I remain calm in life’s big storms and still let little waves rock my boat?

It’s ridiculous I know…The meaningless things that I do to feel like I have an iota of control over my life. My crazy rules helped me through times of chaos and discord. I can’t seem to let go now even though I don’t need them anymore. Taking the little bit of control I have away from me or complaining about the stubborn way I do things really bothers me.

Who wouldn’t like a lady with a laundry fetish?

What they don’t realize is when they take my security blanket of control away from me I feel like I am once again that frightened little girl. No one seems to understand. I barely understand it myself.

Will I let my relationships get wrecked over lights and laundry?? Probably not, I can’t even fathom why it would bother me so much.

 

Autism’s sibling, journal 3 part 2

One time when mom’s old friend stopped by, Matt threw rocks at her car and she left..

What I don’t understand is why the nice friendly Christian ladies at church didn’t offer to give us an hour break from Matt. We never got a break. I only had two friends that lived with me, my two cats. But Matt was mean to them and they eventually ran away. Life with him has been hell. Even though Matt is small, he is very strong.

I also have a lot of nausea. Once my depression and nausea got so bad I couldn’t eat. Nobody cared about me. Nobody cared about Mark either. They cared about Luke because he was a troublemaker and got a lot of attention. Sometimes he would even be as bad as Matt.

What I hated most was talking to relatives. They always asked how Matt was. That really hurt because it is like I don’t exist. Usually people ask how you are. But imagine if they asked about your brother and not you. It hurts to know that people really don’t care if I’m alive.

I remember when the three boys were wild at the table. Mom had to feed them. Mom and dad would fight. Mom would get upset and go upstairs to cry. I was her best friend. I would talk to her and tell her that things would be better tomorrow, but it never did. There were always more problems or more doctor bills. Things are better now, but I still feel the pain and it’s holding me back from being happy.

I had a friend that stayed over once in awhile until Matt kicked her. She never wrote back to me after that.

Alissa, 1990

Isolation…being completely alone…emptiness…a cold barren winter devoid of color….loneliness…the crying of the wind…sadness…the darkest days of the year.

Isolation…for three years Matt had a school teacher come out to the house to educate him. He was deemed too violent to attend school. My mom took a leave of absence from work and pulled my younger brothers and I out of school as well. Sometimes we only left the house once a week to go to church. I spent a lot of time alone in my room writing in my journals.

Emptiness…Robbed of joy and childhood magic…My dad couldn’t handle the stress…he was there physically, but he was gone emotionally…I had to step up to the plate…the firstborn…the caregiver…the fixer…weighed down with adult worries…numb to pain, numb to joy…Pushing all feelings away…left empty inside…Not able to feel anything.

Loneliness…Friendships were severed. When friends came over, it was a disaster. We only had people over once or twice a year and it usually did not go well. My mom and my cats were my best friends. I had more pen pals than actual friends, it was safer…the friends we had went away and never came back…

Sadness…My mother, the kindest and most compassionate person that you would ever meet. I think that it truly hurt others when they had to kick us out of public places because of Matt’s violence…he hurt someone…I have to kick you out…you are welcome back again, but give it some time…Those were the years when I saw my mother’s tears more than I heard her laughter.

Isolation…being completely alone…emptiness…a cold barren winter devoid of color….loneliness…the crying of the wind…sadness…the darkest days of the year.

I spent three teenage years completely alone..Those were the darkest years of my life. Years that I don’t talk about.

 

Our cancer journey (what to expect)

I found myself crying, anxiously waiting by the phone, and having far more questions than answers after getting the initial phone call that a loved one may have cancer. I received that call from my own mother, but she had surgery and survived. We received the call from my mother-in-law twice, the first round she won the fight against breast cancer. The second battle she courageously fought and lost.

I found myself trying to find answers regarding cancer online. I found a few totally factual sites. This is what happens in stage I, etc.. I learned everything I needed to know, but really didn’t know what to expect.

My mother-in-law Martha passed away last week from lung cancer.

For the first year and a half before diagnosis, Martha was ill. She had this cough that wouldn’t go away. At first the doctor thought it was a side effect from her medication. Then she was put on round after round of antibiotics for sinus infections or bronchitis. Eventually, she coughed more, seemed short of breath, and was wheezing. We told her to see her doctor who gave her another round of antibiotics. The day after the doctor visit her doctor called her up and said he couldn’t sleep all night because something seemed off. He wanted her to go in for more testing.

The tests revealed two masses, one in her stomach and one in her lungs. They did a biopsy of the mass in her stomach as it was a lot easier than doing a lung biopsy. They found an easily treatable form of cancer and started treatment assuming that the lung mass was also the same.

There was some relief that she was going to be okay.

But after treating the stomach mass which shrunk, they realized that the lung mass grew. After doing more testing and a lung biopsy, they discovered that she had stage 4 lung cancer. She had two different types of cancer at the same time.

We went from easily treatable right to no cure within a couple of months.

This is the time we wanted to make memories with her while she was up to traveling and doing things. We talked about flying to Vegas or a road trip to Chicago to see relatives. Martha didn’t want to do it though.

This is also the time to encourage your loved one to plan out their will or grant the power of attorney to someone trusted. But at that stage, it is hard to look death in the eye.

Then the Chemo started. Martha had to go in every 3 weeks. The first week after Chemo, she was the sickest. She couldn’t eat and threw up a lot. She was too sick to go anywhere. She needed someone to drive her to appointments and take care of her.

She also had to quit her job and had more medical bills which put upon them a huge unexpected financial burden.

After the first couple rounds of Chemo, they did more testing and found that the cancer moved to her brain which they treated with radiation. Martha had beautiful dark brown curly hair that was down to her waist. Her hair started falling out in clumps.

We started doing last things with her. We celebrated her last birthday, her last Mother’s Day..

Every time that we visited she got weaker and weaker. She lost more weight. Sometimes she was afraid that being around us would make her sicker. Sometimes she didn’t want us to leave.

Then there were days when she would eat and you could almost trick your mind into believing she was getting better.

What I remember the most now was the end days. The cancer starved her body. She lost about 100 lbs. It is hard to see someone down to skin and bones. After she could no longer have any more treatments, her hair grew back in wiry mismatched patches.

She collapsed on her way to the doctor appointment. The rescue squad took her to the hospital ICU. We had to wear gloves and gowns to visit. All of her dignity was stripped away.

She started getting blood transfusions. Afterwards, she almost seemed like herself. She looked better.

Then she moved from the hospital to a nursing home.

She could no longer walk. Sometimes when we would take her out of her room in her wheelchair, she would throw up.

At times she seemed agitated or anxious. Other times she was confused and would call us by the wrong names. At the end, she was not able to stay awake for our whole visit.

The visits were difficult. They typically ended with feelings of anger, sadness, or guilt.

She started gasping more for breath despite the oxygen. She stopped drinking, but had an IV in to hydrate her. The CNA’s had to come into the room every 2 hours to re position her because she could no longer move. She started sleeping more and more of our visits. She slept more than she was alert.

The last few days, her words were slurred and they didn’t make a lot of sense. She seemed restless and agitated. Her body started to get bruised and swollen.

The last visit, she didn’t wake up at all. She didn’t open her eyes. She tried to turn her head and open her mouth when we spoke to her, but didn’t seem able to.

The next day, she was gone.

We thought that there would be relief when her suffering came to an end. But it was really hard to get the last couple weeks out of our minds. My husband said he felt like he had post traumatic stress from watching his mother suffer. We saw her age 30 years in 3 weeks. She dropped a lot of weight in the last couple weeks too.

There was no hope that she was going to get better and that was hard.

It seems with each day that passes, we are able to let go a little more of the bad days and hold on to the good times.

 

Time, slipping away

Despite our best efforts, we didn’t make it on time.

Yesterday morning Darryl and Paul went to the nursing home to be with Martha. They each held her hand and spoke of what to do next. The nurse came in and said that she had 3 days left if they left her IV in and about 24 hours if they took it out.

They called Martha’s remaining siblings and family in for a final visit last night and decided to keep the IV in until the family came for one last visit. Then Paul and Darryl left to tie up some things at work intending to return later.

The kids were on their way home early from school and we were going to leave once they got home.

Paul received the call while we were still at work that his mother had passed moments before we were ready to leave.

We thought we would have more time.

When we got to the nursing home we went into her room and said our final good byes. It seemed so surreal. I tricked my mind into thinking she was still with us. Martha looked like she was asleep.

We had a little good bye service in the nursing home chapel.

While this was all happening, my son became seriously ill (I think he will be okay now). It was horrible timing. I was debating whether or not to take him to the ER.

I felt terrible ignoring the family to deal with another crisis.

It was one of the worst days of my life.

We almost got into two car accidents. Someone came close to sideswiping me and someone pulled out right in front of us. Then on the way home I called the doctor’s office, almost hit a fox all while driving on empty.

I felt like I was on empty too.

It was late when we finally got home.

I made a doctor’s appointment for my son first thing this morning.

I feel so sad.

My family is having a hard time dealing with this. My husband feels so lost without his mother. He said he misses her so terribly much already.

This weekend we will be picking our daughter up from college for the funeral. She is on tour right now with the music department. She was going to surprise her grandma by having the choir sing her a song, but there wasn’t enough time.

I had to stop myself from crying at the doctor’s office this morning.

I feel so confused. I’m forgetting the details which rarely happens to me. I feel like I am running on auto pilot without thinking.

I missed planning the funeral arrangements because I was at the doctor’s office.

Then I needed to stop for groceries. We have nothing to eat in the house. We have been making the hour and a half round trip to see Martha almost every day this week. There hasn’t been time to take care of all the little things.

At the store, I saw a daughter helping her elderly father shop. I almost started crying again.

This has been so emotionally and physically exhausting. We haven’t been sleeping well.

At least Paul had the chance to say good bye. Last week, he had the opportunity to visit his mother alone. He told her he loved her, that she was a good mother, and that he appreciated the sacrifices she made for him.

He said it was one of the hardest things that he has ever done, but it was a very special moment.

He wanted to put it off, thinking that he had more time.

But time has a way of slipping away faster than we can keep our hands on it.

 

 

 

Family time

We haven’t been stopping to see the birds anymore..

Since we last talked, we have been to the nursing home twice.

The first visit was the hardest. Martha drifted in and out of sleep. When we talked to her, she responded with answers that didn’t make much sense. She seemed restless.

The absolute hardest part that night was leaving. When we told Martha we were leaving her eyes snapped open and she gave us the saddest most terrorized look that will forever haunt me.

I have been trying to get Martha’s last look out of my head but I can’t seem to do that. It was like she was pleading with us to stay. When I start to forget, something reminds me. Yesterday I was on the way to the gym and I saw a van with her nursing home’s name plastered on the side.

If I couldn’t fix things with my mind, I wanted to fix things with my might. After the nursing home reminder, I felt so angry. As I was working out, I imagined that I was taking cancer into a dark alley and kicking the living shit out of it.

So far I have found that fighting and fixing hasn’t helped anyone cope but myself. It just gives me a false sense of control over a situation I have no control over.

Last night’s visit was much more peaceful. Martha did not wake up at all. She seemed totally oblivious of our presence. We still spoke to her and played songs of Angel singing. I feel bad because Angel is really busy at college right now. She will not be able to make the 5 hour drive to come out to say good bye. She doesn’t even have a car there. But we were able to face time her while her grandma was still up and talking.

We are hanging in there, but it hasn’t been easy..

Since this original draft, we received word that it is time to call in the family. Tonight after the final good byes, they are going to remove her IV. It won’t be much longer after that.

On a day like today

DSC_0044.JPG

It happened on a cold December day like today.

It happened to a woman my age who had children the ages of some of my children.

I wonder what it would be like..to find out that I was pregnant unexpectedly. She was worried that her husband would be upset when she suspected. She told my mother that.

Her oldest child was already married and out of the house. Her youngest child was 8.

For a couple of months, her oldest child and her were pregnant at the same time.

It was in December many decades ago that her last child, a healthy baby girl was born.

My mom who was the second oldest, called her older sister the day after the baby was born.

“She’s dead”, my mom said. “The baby?”, asked her sister. “No, mom”.

Many decades, years, minutes, and seconds have passed since that cold December day. The oldest daughter has already passed away. Most of my aunts and uncles are reaching retirement age. But I still see them long for the mother that left them too soon. When they get together they still read the old letters she wrote. Tales of what was made for dinner the evening before. Stories about nothing important that makes the siblings laugh and cry.

I feel very thankful that I have had my mother in my life so long.

Paul and I are now approaching the loss of our first parent. It really forces us to face death. I thought about it a lot over the trip to Door County last month with my mother and a few of her siblings, especially when they spoke of the loss of their mother. (The picture above is of my mom and her sister).

My mother’s youngest brother, the 8 year old boy at the time of his mother’s death, said in Door County that some of his favorite movies today are the ones that his mother took him to see right before she died. It was really touching.

My oldest uncle was 16 when his mom passed away. I have a 16 year old son. He would be mortified if I told him I was pregnant. It is the age that most teenage boys don’t want anything to do with their mother. I suspect that my uncle felt the same way and felt guilty for wanting to separate from his mother especially after she passed away unexpectedly. He is currently going through a nasty divorce from a woman that I knew for my whole life to be my aunt. At this hard time, he yearns for his mother so much that he has been visiting a medium just to try to talk to her again. It is terribly sad.

My mother said to me many times growing up that she wished her mother was there. She knew that her mother would have helped her raise an autistic child.

I never met my grandma. I have only seen the impact she has had on her children. From this, I know that she was a good person.

I am so blessed to have my mother in my life for this long..

Not a special Olympics type of story

For many the holiday season triggers memories of joy and happiness. For me, this time of year triggers some sort of post traumatic stress response. I realize that now. Wow, and it only took me 19 years to figure it out after I earned a degree in psychology.

I feel like I am back to normal now, whatever that is..

For the first time in my life, I was able to write down exactly how I felt while I was going through it. It wasn’t easy to relate. I think I have some sort of post traumatic stress response to certain triggers. It sounds absolutely crazy, I know. Most of the time triggers elicit a response of depression for a day or two at most.

I think this happens more often than I realize, but not quite as severe.

After I left my childhood home, I fell into a deep depression that lasted for several years. I also picked up anger and anxiety to put in my baggage along the way.

I don’t blame anyone for what happened.

I remember starting to feel angry last week at Thanksgiving when my mom was giving me a hard time about taking Prilosec for my acid reflux. She really wants me to get allergy testing and offered to pay for it. I have been reluctant. It’s not that I disagree, it triggered memories of growing up.

Matt was supposedly allergic to everything. We couldn’t even have cars parked in the garage because of exhaust fumes. We couldn’t have curtains because of the formaldehyde. For awhile we weren’t allowed to use toothpaste.

Personally, I think that my mother’s response was too extreme. She would have extreme anxiety if Matt was exposed to any allergens. She would scream at my dad if he came in the house smelling like exhaust fumes. She called the nearby farmers and screamed at them if they sprayed their fields without calling her first. She even called the county and yelled at them when they came by spraying the ditches.

My mom seemed to think that controlling Matt’s environment would stop him from being violently autistic. But nothing seemed to stop his violence towards himself and others, namely me.

I think that my mother has and always had good intentions. She is worried that I will die from kidney failure, a supposed side effect from the Prilosec. I will have to tell her that my daughter Angel has already offered me her kidney when mine fails.

My mom was always there for me when I was a kid. She was the one who helped me pick up the pieces of my broken mind after Matt was violent. She also helped my brother Mark out when he experienced a similar response to mine. The task she was given was not easy to do.

I don’t blame my dad, despite his cruelty. He was as much of a victim as the rest of us.

I don’t even blame Matt. If you met Matt today, you wouldn’t believe a word I have told you. He is now docile. By some miracle, he grew out of his violence.

The last time that he hurt someone was 14 years ago. He attacked Angel on her 4th birthday. After he attacked Angel, it was a time of great emotional turmoil for me. I cut Matt out of my life completely for a few years. He wasn’t allowed around my children.

His psychiatrist threatened to have him committed to a place for the violently mentally ill. It was one thing when a child was hurting other children, but it was entirely different when a grown man was attacking children. In response to this, Matt was home bound once again and kept out of public where he could hurt someone and get committed.

I was already feeling edgy about my mom pushing the allergy testing on Thursday. Then my visit with my dying mother-in-law on Saturday made me very anxious. Then the sadness over Angel going back to college and the trigger of the Christmas tree was enough to set me off into this deep dark spiral downward.

I feel horrible about talking to you about this. I wish I had a great special Olympics type special needs sibling story to tell you. I feel tremendous guilt that I don’t.

I haven’t met anyone else who has had a similar experience to mine. If you are out there somewhere, I want to tell you that there is hope. This was the only thing that kept me alive as a teenager and young adult. I prayed fervently and had hope that someday there would be a better life for me where I could experience joy.

I firmly believe that you cannot fully experience joy without experiencing sorrow. I have found that joy in abundance. I experience life at a much deeper level than I think I would have if my life was easy breezy. No small talk here, just the blatant honest truth. There is value in being able to honestly share the sorrow that I experienced this week. I need to accept what I have been through and the emotions that accompany it.

There is hope! If opening myself up and allowing myself to be vulnerable helps just one person hold on for another day, it would be worth it. You are not alone! There is hope…

Trust that tomorrow will be a better day.

 

Opening the Door..

DSC_0017_copy.JPG

This past weekend, I visited the beautiful Door County located in the thumb of Wisconsin. I even broke some of my rules…

Namely, I was spontaneous. My mom asked me to spend the weekend with her and two of her siblings and their spouses. Less than a weeks notice is spontaneous for me. I did have other plans, like going through my endless pictures to delete them from my server that I almost crashed and cleaning the house for Thanksgiving. But I did blog earlier about needing to put my relationships above cleaning, so I packed my bags and went.

We had a great time away…we played the game Loaded Questions. Great game! We stayed at a large house right on Lake Michigan. The picture above was taken from the front yard. One of the questions asked during the game was what everyone would do on a whim. Most answers involved travel or jumping nude into the lake. Well, except for my mom who answered that she would have a cup of coffee. Hhmm, sad! I don’t take after her… Ha ha ha.

I was tempted to jump into the lake. They had a hot tub near the lake and when I got overheated I was tempted to jump right in. It looked so inviting, despite the cold and all of the empty beaches.

Saturday morning we awoke to the first snow flurries of the season. It was cold and windy. It was so windy at home that trees fell down on power lines and cars. We braved the cold to head out to the winery that morning (where I broke one of my rules). Aunt Jan said that it was too early to drink wine, but she changed her mind. Aunt Jan is usually the one in charge, so we followed her lead. At 10:45 AM, we were sampling wine. Hey, it’s noon somewhere, right?

I ended up buying 5 lbs of pitted tart cherries to make my homemade Thanksgiving pies and a bottle of Summer Breeze wine. They bottle it under the name White Christmas in the winter, but I couldn’t resist the picture of the sailboat on the summer label.

DSC_0060.JPG

The above picture is why we don’t go sailing on Lake Michigan or the bay in the winter. It can be pretty vicious, which is why all of the sailors took their boats out of the water last month. No one wants to be on the water under these conditions. Just think of what happened to the Edmund Fitzgerald on Lake Superior in the gales of November. Great! Now I am humming the Gordon Lightfoot song!

As I was inching my way along the dock to take this picture, an older gentleman screamed out to me “No further!” People have drowned when waves like this have crashed into the dock knocking them over into and under the water. But I didn’t even get close.

We had a great time in Door County and in case you were wondering, I was able to get my house cleaned too!