Peek-a-boo

I'm here, I'm here. I really am.

What I've been up to:

• on a Harry Potter marathon with Sam. He read book one ages ago but not the others. I announced I was going to read them all, and he took off along with me. We're having so much fun, though I do need to keep reminding him not to tell me any details! He's one book ahead of me. I've threatened to duct tape his mouth closed, with a slit for liquid nutrition.
• observing Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. This has probably been my least angst-filled High Holy Days since I've had kids. Yay me!
• writing an article for publication on a web-zine. For pay! More on that when it is published.
• trying to renew my enthusiasm for my photo project. I have missed more days than I'd have liked, and find myself getting a little bored. But I've been pushing through this week and have had fun taking pictures. Now I just need to catch up on posting a month's worth of photos. Yikes!
• planning holiday gift crafting, cooking new recipes, and getting ready for my sister and her family to visit in a few weeks. Can't wait to meet my new nephew, who is a butterball!

If I Twittered

I'd say

• swimmers are hot
• so are beach volleyball ladies
• hooray, school started Monday
• boo, day off for tropical storm fay
• hooray, they're back at school
• I have a lot of pictures to post on the other blog but haven't been on the computer as much lately
• why? Lots of books!
• husband has initiated some decluttering sessions- hooray hooray!
• marriage is hard
• so is parenting

Belated Thanks and things to be grateful for

Thank you, all of you, for your kind and dear comments. I know that I have friends in California, Oregon, Texas, Massachusetts, Spain, Australia, and more. I am truly grateful to all of you. I am going to try not to be so hard on myself- funny, isn't it, that I'm pretty good at not judging other people.

In reading your comments I realized that I have a hard time reading nice things about myself! And that because it makes me a little uncomfortable, I have delayed thanking some of you. My mother was very particular about sending thank you notes, so not thanking people for the beautiful things they've said about me makes me feel even more uncomfortable!

Thank you Bipolarlawyercook for posting about my photo blog, and for these kind words as well. It's hard for me to even read that second post, because posting empathetic comments is really important to me, and I totally blush knowing that you think I succeed at it. Being understood is so important to me, and I work hard at letting others know I understand them. Thank you.

Kiandra gave me an award. Again- so hard to read her wonderful words that are talking about me! Thank you!

When I had the chance to introduce myself to Suna I didn't- I was too shy/introverted/in awe of her. At that time I didn't know that she too is introverted and fights some of the same battles with her mind that I do. Thank you Suna for saying I make your day.

***

On July 22nd, my sister had her second little boy. He's just gorgeous from photos and Skype, and we here in FL might burst before we get to meet him in October. And his big brother is doing a great job being gentle.

***

One day I got to work early and noticed some flowers I'd never seen before.



I decided I'd take some pictures when I left for the day.



When I went to take the pictures, the flowers were gone!



They were back the next morning. These smartie Florida plants close up shop in the scorching heat, only sharing themselves during the relatively cool early hours.

Fell off My Bike

Do you remember that moment when you learned to ride your bicycle when you realized you were actually doing it? And as you reveled in the air going through your hair you faltered just for a second and promptly fell on your head?

That's where I've been the past two weeks. June was great. Filled with a lot of fun stuff, maybe a little too full. I was handling things, staying positive, taking one day at a time instead of worrying about my month full of busy-ness, parenting in a way that is meaningful and important to me, and most of all cheering my switch to Zoloft. And then boom, I fell.

We did not spend an entire weekend at home in June, and we won't spend a single July weekend at home either. I think one of my keys to sanity is to have downtime at home. May was so busy with end of the school year activities and appointments; I was proud that instead of panicking 'how will I do it all' I just told myself to look no further than the day at hand. And it was fabulous. I felt so capable, so calm.

June brought Maya's dance recital (a wonderful, but long, long day), a trip to NY, a family birthday party to attend in Gainesville, and then July 4th with my in-laws. The laundry was piled up. Dishes were in the sink even though we were not home. The children, and everyone else for that matter, got on my nerves incessantly. Way too much yelling at the kids and arguing with Erik. Lots of eating anything that wasn't nailed down. I dreaded making the July 4th trip, being away from home, having to be social and cordial with others. Even my husband wondered if my medicine stopped working. I must have had a strange, faraway look on my face, as he doesn't always know when I'm feeling badly. Everything was just becoming too much.

I indulged in several naps on July 4th, and slept a bunch despite the various events we attended. When I woke up on the 5th things didn't seem as awful as they had the whole week had. The rest of the weekend was nice, and when we got home I started in on the mountain of laundry. I'm still feeling more irritated by little things than I'd like to be, the house is messier than I'd like (yep, dishes still in sink. At least they're different dishes than before.), but for the most part I feel like I've climbed my way out of this hole. We're heading out on a roadtrip on Saturday. I'm feeling ok about the packing.

I'm reminding myself to return to basics. To remember hope. To enjoy the small things. To let go of perfection.

Turn Back the Clock? No

My laptop is unwell- poor thing can't charge because the jack is wiggly. I've known this for a while and managed, but I think we're at the point of no return. I need to get it in for service.

In the meantime, thankfully, I have an older laptop from my Dad. When I turned it on so that Sam could play with a new program, there was a message about the time/date setting. I think the battery on this thing doesn't stay charged, or something. In any case, the date was set as January 1, 2000.

I turned that over in my mind a bit later, and realized, no, I wouldn't turn back time. Wouldn't change a thing. Have there been moments when I wished for a do-over? Oh yes. Of course. All in all though, I think it's been a good journey, and the now is good too. So I wouldn't do it over, and I'm happy to be in 2008 and not back in 2000.

Nine Years

Happy Birthday my sweet boy. It's nine years since I met you, nine years that you've been teaching me. Can't wait to see where else you and I will go on this path of motherhood/son-hood.

My Heart is Full

Yesterday was the last day of school, and I spent a wonderful morning there. The school holds an awards program for 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades. Although I don't have a 5th grader, I had tears in my eyes as the principal said goodbye to them.

It was such a wonderful morning. My heart was full to bursting all day. Yes, I am proud of Sam for his accomplishments and the recognition he got from his teachers. More than that though, I am just full of love for our school, our teachers, and the wonderful, warm community that makes up our school. It was fabulous hearing about the successes the 5th graders had this year--one won a statewide essay contest, another won a statewide music competition, one young person has had straight A's since Kindergarten. I was so proud of them, their families, and their teachers.

After the awards assembly Sam's teacher invited parents back of to the classroom where he handed out class awards and spoke a few heartfelt words about each child. He is such a wonderful man, and it was great hearing him talk about each child and give them a hug. All of the children at our school hope that they will have him for third grade. I believe it is because they know that he genuinely enjoys and respects children. He loves his job, he's enthusiastic about teaching, and he helps his students be enthusiastic about reading. He got choked up when he was talking about Sam, and more than ever I wished that Sam could somehow stay in his class for another year. I know that Sam will be in a new classroom come August, and that there will be more adventures, learning, and love no matter who his teacher is.

In the afternoon I went to Maya's class luau. The kids were adorable, and the boys especially had a great time dancing. My sweet girl is so proud to be moving on to first grade. She's really grown a lot, and learned so very much. Tonight she came to me quietly crying; she was crying for her teacher, she misses her already. She sat on my lap and typed out an email to her.

It's been a fantastic school year. We're going to do a lot of fun stuff this summer, and then we'll be back at school ready for new experiences, challenges, and learning opportunities.

Love Thursday

We've had a hectic few weeks since our return from spring break. Sickness, root canal, family birthday parties, Hebrew school. There's barely been time to take care of laundry, or piles of mail and the kids' artwork. All of this rushing about leaves me feeling like I'm spinning in circles.

Fortunately I have these delightful creatures to slow me down and enjoy the moments.







Yes, my child is swinging on a dead palm frond. Gotta love it.



This weekend is going to be all about getting off of this hamster wheel I've jumped on.

My piece of the sky

My husband brought one of our lounge chairs from the backyard to the front yard. I've taken to finding a few minutes each day to sit on the chair under the camphor tree and gaze up at the sky.



It's been so delightful, to sit there and watch the leaves dance above my head. The orange blossoms perfume the air, and for a few minutes, it's just me and the earth.

A new perspective on anxiety

I bought a whole bunch of books of affirmations from Half.com a few weeks ago for seventy-five cents apiece. I know, I know what you're thinking. I've probably made similar comments myself. Recently I've been listening to a cd of parenting affirmations, and I have to say, I've found it very helpful. I need all the help I can get in changing the negative automatic thoughts in my head- like a weed whacker for my mental roads overgrown with weeds. So after perusing a book by Sue Patton Thoele at the library, I click-click-clicked and hit complete purchase.

One of the books I picked up is "Heart Thoughts" by Louise Hay. I keep re-reading the page about fear. She says

Remember, when a fearful thought comes up, it is trying to protect you. Isn't that what fear is all about? When you become frightened, your adrenaline pumps up to protect you from danger. Say to the fear: "I appreciate that you want to help me."

Whoa! I love this idea- adrenaline is something physical that is released in order to help protect us. But sometimes- maybe often if you have an anxiety disorder- the warning is a little over-dramatic.

***

As I look at the pile of books next to my bed, I fear that I'm amassing quite the self-help library. Somewhere in the blogosphere I read a critique of sorts of self-help books. The author wondered why people would all want to be the same. I don't want to be the same as everyone else, I don't think that would be possible even if I were working toward that! I want to be me- I want to be the me I am on good days. I'd like to string the good days together, into good weeks and good months. Yes, I know that there is suffering, that life is hard (and hey, some of these books are Buddhist books, and they are so helpful), but I also know that I shouldn't have to struggle on a daily basis.

Mommy Mantras was another Half.com purchase, and I've looked at it weekly since I bought it a few months ago. My favorite one is "I can stand this." How many times have I said to myself "I can't stand this anymore!" when I've been in an uncomfortable parenting moment? It is so wonderful to stop myself and say, yes, you can stand this. you are doing it now.

The Proof is in the Pudding Cooking

As I mentioned on my photo blog, what a week it's been. Last weekend I was away on a business meeting. I returned late on Sunday evening, too late to read to the children before bed. Monday was generally like any other day after a trip, me scrambling to catch up on laundry, work, and to get things in order for the week ahead.

I checked our voice mail, and heard my mother-in-law saying that my father-in-law had had a stroke on Monday morning. I tried to reach my husband, but he wasn't in his office and he'd forgotten his cell phone at home. He eventually called, as he was going to stop at the grocery store on the way home. I told him to skip the store and come home, that his mother called, and his father was in the hospital. Obviously there would be no 'getting back to normal' this week.


I'm done transitioning off of paxil and onto zoloft. I am really, really grateful that I was done switching before now. It has been so much easier to handle. Of course in any family emergency I would do what needed to be done. But it would have been immeasurably harder on me to have my husband gone for most of the week. It is hard to describe how I can tell that the new medication is helping. For one, even in genuinely stressful situations, I'm not having the physical symptoms that I was having in the last few months even at the highest strength of paxil. No more heart pounding like a herd of horses. No more trouble feeling like I'm getting enough air, no more weird tingly sensation in my arms. But it's more than that. When the kids do or say something that is upsetting to me, I don't immediately flip out and start thinking "omgomg the sky is falling." I can think internally, "hmm, that is really annoying. I don't like it. But, it isn't the end of the world." and react accordingly. And more than that, I'm not reacting, I'm responding.

The other thing I noticed is that in the last year, give or take a few months, there have been recipes that I've thought, gee, I'd like to make that, but then not done a thing to accomplish that. I have made more new recipes in the last three weeks than I probably made all of last year. There's a lot of elements to this seemingly small thing. I'm committed to Weight Watchers. I know that I need to plan ahead in order to succeed. I need to plan ahead even more when my husband is away. We've also been trying to plan meals in order to shop more effectively and less expensively. Where the medicine comes in is my ability to actually follow through on these things. Yeah, I'm crossing my fingers that the medicine will continue to be this effective for a long, long time. I try to drown out the fact that I posted about recovering in October, only to end up feeling just as poorly as I did before that recovery, if not worse. I do think I understand myself and my disorder even more than I did in October, so I'll be keeping a close eye on how things are going, and hopefully won't let things get to the point they were last summer.

So for now, the proof is in the cooking.

Love Thursday

Lots of love this week, lots of love.



My boy



I love this whole drawing, but especially the way he portrayed the crowd in the stands.



Maya's really getting into drawing too.



happy animals



possessed animals?

Dear Internet

I send you messages in my head every day. Have you gotten them?

No? Drats.

Well, I will have to keep working on that brain to blog link up.

In the meantime, I'm holding steady. Or, sort of steady. I see the other side, I am almost there. Trying hard. Opening my heart to love, learning to let love lead the way. Fear has led for far too long. Trying to think less, talk less. Trying to just Be.

I kinda lost touch with hope for a few weeks. It's coming back I think. I'm witnessing, from afar: a mother's hope after the birth of her first sweet baby, who had two surgeries in her first week of life; a friend's hope, picking up the pieces after a beloved's suicide; another mother's hope as her baby undergoes care for a serious heart defect; and my sister's hope and strength as she navigates new terrain in her motherhood journey.

Love Thursday

Jen Lemen posted about a new photo blog/website starting up. Some wonderful photographers are involved, and I was eager to check it out (besides the fact that I just might do anything that Jen Lemen recommends. I *heart* her). Today is Love Thursday on Shutter Sisters.



I took this picture of my nephew over the winter break. We were all down at grandma and grandpa's on the beach. He'd left this cape at their house over Columbus Day weekend, and was so thrilled to be reunited with it. He's an amazing little guy. He knew no English in March, when he was adopted by my sil and bil--you should hear him now. He's full of joy, and it has been a joy and a blessing to watch him grow and learn this year.

Some other things I loved today

• seeing a Bald Eagle soaring overhead on my lakeside walk this morning
• walking this morning :)
• watching Cattle Egrets and Tree Swallow on a bug-eating feeding frenzy on the lake shore
  
• my son hollering- come here mom, I need you- so that I'd hear a Maroon 5 song on the radio in his room
  

Thanks for your good thoughts in response to yesterday's post. I had a decent night's sleep, exercised, and have eaten well today. And now I see it is already midnight, so off to bed I go. If you are on the west coast or suffering from insomnia, do go check out the beautiful photos and posts on Shutter Sisters. You won't regret it.

Despite the sensitive gal sensory overload event below, today wasn't so bad. Really.



See? A smile.

I've been trying to practice resilience this week. Monday was great, awesome. Wonderful therapy session, blue skies, a walk around the lake with the breeze keeping me cool. The ability to look at small things and appreciate them. I had decided to focus on my husband, to notice him, to be his friend, and not just co-parents of the same children. And somehow this was misinterpreted. It is hard to change patterns. Either the new efforts aren't noticed, or misunderstood. Add to that some work stress for him, and some hurtful things were said. Honest to goodness sobbing followed, on my part anyway. I just couldn't understand how my good intentions could have been twisted into something so hurtful. Here I was, working so hard to make things different. And boom. Explosions.

Emotions have always lingered for me. Wait, scratch that--negative emotions have always lingered. How many hours did I spend in my room as a kid/preteen/teen feeling that burn? Stoking the fire of sadness, anger. I find it difficult to accept an apology and move on. Things just hurt too much, and I need time to recover. And so it went on Monday night. I was pissed that my great mood was so fleeting, and wondered how long it would be till I could recapture it. I wondered how long the feeling of wishing I weren't alive would last (note: to me this feeling is very different than feeling like I'm going to actually run out and commit suicide. It is simply feeling so blue, so awful, so misunderstood that I wish I didn't exist). And then I tried something different. I am not sure if this idea was born from my head fully grown like Athena, but somehow I told myself that I could feel crappy all night Monday, but that on Tuesday I had to keep doing what I'd done Monday morning to feel so good. To continue trying to change my patterns of communication with my husband, even if he didn't understand the new pattern at first.

Like I mentioned yesterday I wonder about this. Did I not learn to handle my emotions well as a child? Is it a product of being anxious for as long as I can remember--did stewing feel better than worrying about everything, wondering if I was good enough, doing enough, doing things correctly and perfectly? Is falling down the rabbit hole of depression and gloom a product of having a mental disorder, or is it a habit I fell into somehow? What do "regular" people go through when they have a bad day? Do they just naturally bounce back, or do those days have the potential to multiply like dirty dishes piling up next to the sink?

I definitely believe that I need my medication. There is a place for new skills and coping mechanisms too. I know that I've been working so hard on myself for so long. When did life get so much harder for me? Was it having kids that made everything so much more complicated? Marriage?

Huh. I guess part of me wonders if I'm faking it. Have I just latched on to the word disorder as declared by my psychiatrist and therapist? Rationally I don't believe that, but the thoughts are down in there somewhere I suppose. I know my husband has a hard time with it. A broken arm, or diabetes, or a cold-those are things he can wrap his mind around. Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Not so much. Yet those three words have helped me understand my life so much better, and I really have been better able to translate myself and my behaviors for my husband.

So I think I'll go to bed with hope filling up my heart. I did turn the week around from the direction it was headed on Monday night. Whether it was my medication, an amazing meditation yesterday morning, self-talk and determination, or this nifty gadget for my Google home page giving me a smile every time I see it doesn't really matter. I just need to keep on practicing.

steps

One of the things I'm trying to do doing in order to reinforce hope and hopefulness is to make changes in my environment. This December I was lucky enough to check out Lauren Alane's etsy store when she had some felted ornaments for sale. I snagged one for myself; I adore her birdies.

Yesterday I hung it from the car rear-view mirror.

2008

There's so much I want to say right now. I wish I had hours to sit here and write all of the posts that currently reside in my head.

For now I'll just say, this is the year of Hope. I was inpsired by Ali Edwards to choose one little word for my year. Christine Kane also influenced my thoughts as the end of 2007 came. I want to be and do, I don't want to 'should' on myself. Every day is a new day. My hopes and dreams are Within Reach.

I am hopeful that I will learn more about living with anxiety.
I am hopeful that baby steps will help us to declutter our home.
I am hopeful that I can enjoy each new day, even the rough ones.
I am hopeful that I can be joyful.

I decided on hope a day or so before NYE. I found the idea of practicing being hopeful so useful and helpful in actual practice- I have been catching myself going into the negative self-talk that normally spirals into anxiety and depression, and reframing the situation through the lens of Hope. It's only January 5, but I've experienced more joy so far, been more able to appreciate the small moments that make up a life. I've taken risks that have paid off, and leave me eager to jump again.

It's pretty much January 6th now; I need to get to bed. I'll just share one more thing: a new blog.

Now I Know I can do anything

For the first time ever, I successfully made a batch of my grandmother's English Toffee recipe.

I'll be back later with a post which will include the word lice and fun in the same sentence! Doesn't that pique your interest?

Lost in the Mazes of my Mind

There have been lots of words flying around inside my head this past week; I thought of starting a post often. But the thoughts and feelings felt too ugly, confusing, overwhelming. Why the ups and downs? Can't I have a happy period that lasts more than a month? Why do bad days stick to me-why can't I toss them off and move on? Why am I so stupid, lame, lazy, a bad mother, bad wife, bad housekeeper? And on, and on.

BipolarLawyerCook's post on Real Mental this morning really rings a bell for me. She wonders why she waits until she's running on empty before taking time for the things that she knows help bring emotional well-being and mental balance. Just yesterday I realized that I am sort of like an addict, who thinks she can have one drink, one hit- I think I can stay up late just one night. Then it is a whole week of late nights. Then no exercise, no calm mornings, no weight watchers and by the end of the week, you have one girl in a serious mess which takes all weekend to recover from.

It didn't help that this weekend was super busy. Chanukah service on Friday night in which the kids were singing, lighting candles, etc. Home at 10:30 pm. At school on Saturday am at 7:45 for Kindergarten holiday concert. Breakfast with Santa right after. Third grade concert at 9:30 (all of this was at school). Come home, collapse, don't sleep or accomplish a thing. Maya to birthday party. Sam and friend at house playing legos. Chanukah party at temple at 5 pm. I was beside myself in the car, and knew enough to take a xanax on the way there. I forgot everything: menorah for group lighting, side dish, canned goods and toy for donation. I did bring gifts for the religious school teachers, but had to stop at CVS on the way for tape; I did bring the scissors and wrapping paper. When we got there I felt utterly anti-social. Erik was upset about the things I didn't take care of all afternoon (he was at the party with Maya). Eventually I started feeling better and had a nice time with my friends and my family. Sunday morning we were out of the house again for religious school. In the afternoon I started the gobs and gobs of laundry piled everywhere.

So today I decided to stay home, and not judge myself for needing a day to right myself. I exercised, I'm doing more laundry. I'm sort of stalled now, I've been writing this post for a few hours. In my vision of today I'm flitting about the house, cleaning, decluttering, and making our house into the home I yearn for. I don't think I've gone into loads of details here about this, but a tremendous trigger for me is the clutter in my home. My husband is a pack-rat. Sometimes I truly feel on the edge looking around at all of the piles. It is like a tidal wave, knocking me over, too big to fight against. We've recently had some really good conversations about this (does me crying hysterically and him listening count as a conversation?)--he apologized for the last ten years (I've been asking him to declutter for that long) and for not truly understanding how his reluctance to throw stuff away affects my mental health.

The going is slow, of course. And nothing much can get done when you're scheduled to the hilt. Even with available time, it is hard to make a big difference. I feel like I don't have the perseverance and discipline needed for this. I get down about it so easily- I mean, we've been 'trying' the same thing for years and years. Duh. Of course it isn't going to get better.

Sigh. I have no idea where I'm going with this. Like I said, the thoughts are all jumbled up in here. Bless you if you've read this far.

In an hour I'm due at Sam's classroom to read a story and teach them about Chanukah. I'm still wearing my exercise clothing. The dishwasher is full of clean dishes. The laundry baskets are full of clean, unfolded clothing. And I'm still wandering the mazes in my mind, and wishing I had Ariadne to toss me a ball of string.

I'm a Believer

I didn't really exercise last week. I exerted myself, but not as much as I do by taking a 2.5 mile walk as I did this morning. Holy cannoli I feel so much better today than I did all weekend!

I'm really not an exercise girl. I don't enjoy sweating. You can break into a sweat here in Florida just walking out to the car most of the year. I don't enjoy bouncing or jiggling- boobs or brains. Exercise often gives me a headache. My motto when it comes to exercise has usually been "an object at rest tends to stay at rest."

I'm convinced now, though, that exercise really can play a key role in regulating my mood. So I'm going to have to get creative in March, when it starts heating up around here. Right now the weather is lovely for a long walk around the lake the town is named for. The path has mile markers, which is nice.

Yeah, I know people have said this for years, but this is the first time I've really felt it in my life.