A very young toddler, in the middle of the main service, loudly and delightfully proclaiming, "Taa-Daaa!"
Nothing like the feeling when you are singing Hymn #2 in unison with the rest of the congregation!
Finding easy amusement for your antsy 7 year old by placing a piece of white fuzz off your skirt on her hand, which she then blows off and quietly giggles at. Rinse and repeat.
Comforting my daughter when she's lost the 2 inch length of black string you found on your skirt for her. (My daughter LOVES stringy things; also, with her autism, when something is "wrong", out of sorts, suddenly different, an awkward or unpleasant transition, unexpected, surprising, new or different . . . she melts into tears and has coping/adjustment problems with it. I practice alot of tender patience with her, in this regard. I also feel that some might feel I am making excuses for her, using her autism as an excuse, and/or coddling her . . . but this is one of the mis-wirings of autism, that adjusting is not easily done, and feels terribly world-changing to her. At least, from what I've read this seems to be the case . . .
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Pet Peeve: "short bus" jokes
Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Laurie (Thanks for the reminder, Dr. A!)
Edit: I also challenged myself creatively! See my Inklings blog in the sidebar.
It's a pet peeve of mine that some people think making jokes about riding the short bus, or related jokes, are funny.
Now, I know that there's people in the world who make jokes about all sorts of potentially offensive things; it's not like I can't handle that. I just thought I'd go off on this one today.
I used to play Star Wars Galaxies* (an online game), and, while I played with other fun-loving adults, it still seems that the "gamer" type, still tended to be the type of person who thought ridiculing the short bus and its riders, was funny.
For those who don't know, the "short bus" being the smaller school bus that disabled and/or special ed children would often ride on, at least when I was growing up.
Not everyone who plays computer games, online or not, and is an adult, fits that gamer stereotype; see my husband and I, for example. Married couples who played were less likely to fit that category.
Some of these "short bus jokers" seemed to get offended, in the mode of, I was trampling on their rights, when I asked them to consider my feelings, and that I had a special needs child. Some of them were like, "Oh, sorry!" That was the exception though . . . Offended isn't really the right word, for how some reacted. Affronted, or put out, maybe . . . perhaps they felt a little guilty, I don't know.
I just don't understand this mentality, although I suppose picking on the different, is something that most creatures do . . . chickens, wolves, sharks probably EAT the weaker of their species (one species, even, the live young, in utero, eat their weaker womb-mates, I guess it's nature's way of toughening them up for the real world . . . (thanks, Discovery Channel Shark Week!)).
Click the title to go see the t-shirt. There's another shirt on this site, that, yeah, while I know it's "labeling" to think of short bus shirt wearers in these terms, it still brings me a sense of satisfaction, to think of; it says, "I see dumb people."
Overgeneralizing too, but hey, we all have our criteria for who fits into our social scene and who doesn't, and wearers of the short bus shirt make it that much easier for me to move on. Although I'd rather that I'd have to find out from conversation, and that there weren't people who'd spend their money on this degrading kind of shirt.
I wouldn't WEAR the dumb people shirt, but it's kind of an internal visceral reaction to seeing the other. Probably just my mother bear instincts.
*The Star Wars link goes to a pic of my main character; I used to dress my "toons" up in Wonder Woman outfits . . . what would a shrink say about that? Lol . . .
Edit: I also challenged myself creatively! See my Inklings blog in the sidebar.
It's a pet peeve of mine that some people think making jokes about riding the short bus, or related jokes, are funny.
Now, I know that there's people in the world who make jokes about all sorts of potentially offensive things; it's not like I can't handle that. I just thought I'd go off on this one today.
I used to play Star Wars Galaxies* (an online game), and, while I played with other fun-loving adults, it still seems that the "gamer" type, still tended to be the type of person who thought ridiculing the short bus and its riders, was funny.
For those who don't know, the "short bus" being the smaller school bus that disabled and/or special ed children would often ride on, at least when I was growing up.
Not everyone who plays computer games, online or not, and is an adult, fits that gamer stereotype; see my husband and I, for example. Married couples who played were less likely to fit that category.
Some of these "short bus jokers" seemed to get offended, in the mode of, I was trampling on their rights, when I asked them to consider my feelings, and that I had a special needs child. Some of them were like, "Oh, sorry!" That was the exception though . . . Offended isn't really the right word, for how some reacted. Affronted, or put out, maybe . . . perhaps they felt a little guilty, I don't know.
I just don't understand this mentality, although I suppose picking on the different, is something that most creatures do . . . chickens, wolves, sharks probably EAT the weaker of their species (one species, even, the live young, in utero, eat their weaker womb-mates, I guess it's nature's way of toughening them up for the real world . . . (thanks, Discovery Channel Shark Week!)).
Click the title to go see the t-shirt. There's another shirt on this site, that, yeah, while I know it's "labeling" to think of short bus shirt wearers in these terms, it still brings me a sense of satisfaction, to think of; it says, "I see dumb people."
Overgeneralizing too, but hey, we all have our criteria for who fits into our social scene and who doesn't, and wearers of the short bus shirt make it that much easier for me to move on. Although I'd rather that I'd have to find out from conversation, and that there weren't people who'd spend their money on this degrading kind of shirt.
I wouldn't WEAR the dumb people shirt, but it's kind of an internal visceral reaction to seeing the other. Probably just my mother bear instincts.
*The Star Wars link goes to a pic of my main character; I used to dress my "toons" up in Wonder Woman outfits . . . what would a shrink say about that? Lol . . .
Friday, August 25, 2006
GAAK! Exxefor XR co-pay . . .
Edit: It's so late, that I mis-spelled Effexor. S'okay, I'm gonna leave it that way, it's funnier.
Well, hell.
I knew this med was $200 a mo. for 300mg a day (2 150mg), but I was hoping for like a $30 copay . . $72. OUCH!
At least the gabapentin 1200mg a day is only $10 a month . . . nice to have a generic.
The problem is, this med works, and I know it can be hard to find a med that does. So.
We'll figure something out; might be buying only 2 weeks at a time, for awhile (the mom'n'pop pharmacy we go to IS on the provider list; they have killer prices, too. Shoulda seen what Target wanted to charge for a week of pills . . . 'twas ridiculous!)
Lemme add this up:
$200 a mo for health insurance
$80-$100 a mo copay for 4-5 ologist visits, added together.
$72 a mo for Effexor XR
$10 a mo for gabapentin
Occasional copay for Xanax, and iatrist.
$382 in monthly $$. We can't afford that, lol! Once our huge credit card payment goes back to normal (September is last huge one, I think), the $180 we're saving from that will bring this total down to $202.
Well, my mysterious funding source did mention perhaps helping w/copays and maybe even utility bills . . . I need to meet with them, but I'd really rather stand on our own four (six) feet.
I don't like having to keep going on the good graces of someone else.
Still, the numbers just don't add up. There is NO WAY we can afford that $202 a month. None.
If they ever put thru dh's raise (I'm hoping for retroactive but betting not; and if it's not, they'd better get their tushies in gear because, in that case, we're losing money the longer they take to get to it; he qualified for it awhile ago, and they said they'd do it effective when he switched to perm employment . . . nope!!) that, I'm guessing, will add a minimum of $80 a month to the mix.
Which helps alot.
Anyway, maybe I shouldn't go into so much detail, but there it is. No wonder I'm under so much stress; not knowing how we're going to eat, or get mental health care, from day to day, from week to week, sucks.
Thanks for the box of food, Mom & Dad! We've been enjoying it.
I just gotta hang in here and pray.
Good thing we still qualify for free school breakfast and lunch for dd. So that's good.
Ah, I sound pathetic. I'm not begging for anything here, although I'm afraid it looks like it.
Just . . . well, it's so . . . I feel so trapped, and closed in and crushed and stuff. Can I cry on everybody's shoulder, please? Can I whine, a little? Oh, and I'll take some cheese with that, please! Hee hee.
We could, at MOST, free up $24 a month from other places. A pittance, really, and the things that goes for keep out of a LOT of trouble. Especially impulsivity wise, and bipolar wise, and stuff. Provides me with variety. We don't get a newspaper at all, either. Less than $1 a day, to keep me outta trouble, is worth it. I'll just eat less, if it comes to that. And I have, in the past, but haven't had to for more'n a week every great now 'n then. So I don't think that its unhealthy, anyway.
Cable modem is, well, it's how I stay in touch. Saves $$ on long distance, we almost never have long distance charges. It's not an option to get rid of; my support system is on here, too. Of which Barb is a great part!
Besides, end of January we'll get our tax return (we generally get W2's early and file early, and it gets deposited in about a week to 12 days or so, that early), and will be able to pay off, I think, a $100 a month bill. So that'll help too, and it's really not that far away. Sept, Oct, Nov, Dec, Jan.
I know I'm justifying and explaining, and I'm learning that I don't have to, but, right now, it's good for me to lay out all the issues. So, there they are.
Anyway, I have faith in the Lord, and we do what we can, and every now and then I am able to sell off some old crafting stuff or what-have-you and help out a little, financially, that way.
Obviously the selling jewelry thing isn't working, but I did know that having the Etsy shop was more just for friends who wanted to buy something, than for attracting some chance person off the web.
There's a guy who pays not much above my cost, for what I make, but it's been awhile and he still owes me a bit. It's a rather long, drawn out process, but at least it pays for the hobby, thus giving me something to do, and it's very sensory and distracting and soothing, and FUN!
Anyway, I hope there's some shoulders out there for me, and as I stretch my Effexor doses to half doses over the weekend, and get sick from that, just gimme a hug. Still, half a dose is better than none, and I should only be a little sick, instead of horridly sick as missing a dose or going cold turkey does to me.
Well, hell.
I knew this med was $200 a mo. for 300mg a day (2 150mg), but I was hoping for like a $30 copay . . $72. OUCH!
At least the gabapentin 1200mg a day is only $10 a month . . . nice to have a generic.
The problem is, this med works, and I know it can be hard to find a med that does. So.
We'll figure something out; might be buying only 2 weeks at a time, for awhile (the mom'n'pop pharmacy we go to IS on the provider list; they have killer prices, too. Shoulda seen what Target wanted to charge for a week of pills . . . 'twas ridiculous!)
Lemme add this up:
$200 a mo for health insurance
$80-$100 a mo copay for 4-5 ologist visits, added together.
$72 a mo for Effexor XR
$10 a mo for gabapentin
Occasional copay for Xanax, and iatrist.
$382 in monthly $$. We can't afford that, lol! Once our huge credit card payment goes back to normal (September is last huge one, I think), the $180 we're saving from that will bring this total down to $202.
Well, my mysterious funding source did mention perhaps helping w/copays and maybe even utility bills . . . I need to meet with them, but I'd really rather stand on our own four (six) feet.
I don't like having to keep going on the good graces of someone else.
Still, the numbers just don't add up. There is NO WAY we can afford that $202 a month. None.
If they ever put thru dh's raise (I'm hoping for retroactive but betting not; and if it's not, they'd better get their tushies in gear because, in that case, we're losing money the longer they take to get to it; he qualified for it awhile ago, and they said they'd do it effective when he switched to perm employment . . . nope!!) that, I'm guessing, will add a minimum of $80 a month to the mix.
Which helps alot.
Anyway, maybe I shouldn't go into so much detail, but there it is. No wonder I'm under so much stress; not knowing how we're going to eat, or get mental health care, from day to day, from week to week, sucks.
Thanks for the box of food, Mom & Dad! We've been enjoying it.
I just gotta hang in here and pray.
Good thing we still qualify for free school breakfast and lunch for dd. So that's good.
Ah, I sound pathetic. I'm not begging for anything here, although I'm afraid it looks like it.
Just . . . well, it's so . . . I feel so trapped, and closed in and crushed and stuff. Can I cry on everybody's shoulder, please? Can I whine, a little? Oh, and I'll take some cheese with that, please! Hee hee.
We could, at MOST, free up $24 a month from other places. A pittance, really, and the things that goes for keep out of a LOT of trouble. Especially impulsivity wise, and bipolar wise, and stuff. Provides me with variety. We don't get a newspaper at all, either. Less than $1 a day, to keep me outta trouble, is worth it. I'll just eat less, if it comes to that. And I have, in the past, but haven't had to for more'n a week every great now 'n then. So I don't think that its unhealthy, anyway.
Cable modem is, well, it's how I stay in touch. Saves $$ on long distance, we almost never have long distance charges. It's not an option to get rid of; my support system is on here, too. Of which Barb is a great part!
Besides, end of January we'll get our tax return (we generally get W2's early and file early, and it gets deposited in about a week to 12 days or so, that early), and will be able to pay off, I think, a $100 a month bill. So that'll help too, and it's really not that far away. Sept, Oct, Nov, Dec, Jan.
I know I'm justifying and explaining, and I'm learning that I don't have to, but, right now, it's good for me to lay out all the issues. So, there they are.
Anyway, I have faith in the Lord, and we do what we can, and every now and then I am able to sell off some old crafting stuff or what-have-you and help out a little, financially, that way.
Obviously the selling jewelry thing isn't working, but I did know that having the Etsy shop was more just for friends who wanted to buy something, than for attracting some chance person off the web.
There's a guy who pays not much above my cost, for what I make, but it's been awhile and he still owes me a bit. It's a rather long, drawn out process, but at least it pays for the hobby, thus giving me something to do, and it's very sensory and distracting and soothing, and FUN!
Anyway, I hope there's some shoulders out there for me, and as I stretch my Effexor doses to half doses over the weekend, and get sick from that, just gimme a hug. Still, half a dose is better than none, and I should only be a little sick, instead of horridly sick as missing a dose or going cold turkey does to me.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Sleepy Me
Daughter Quote of the Day: (heard just before heading off to school) "I want a baby brother".
She's not old enough to think that working on that may be one of the activities her parents do while she's at school. Thank Goodness.
But WE are! 8^D.
Practice makes perfect . . . .
And it's JUST practice, for now.
Well.
I was Neurontin-sleepy today, so I spent much of the day in bed, relaxing and dozing.
Hope I can sleep tonight!! But I was SO SLEEPY! And besides that, I didn't feel . . . like there was . . . I don't know. I wasn't depressed, but rather just kind of on "pause", if that makes any sense . . . maybe a bit of a depressed dip, I'd say there was one thread that might have been that thinking, but at the same time I know I'm doing stuff lately, and making progress.
It was more like a, well, Pause. I did do something emotionally difficult today, and then processed it a bit as I lay there . . . it kinda sucks that other people won't/don't bring their full selves, or engage as much as I do, when discussing issues between us. I tried in various ways to get at certain things in a deeper way, and also tried to, by various discussion, to illustrate some things that I hoped she would come to understand . . . like that there is much more to me, and much more going on with me, than people can "see" . . . . . . Anyway, on one or two things, we got partway towards where I would have liked to have been, either on finding out more how she felt, in a less guarded way, or on what she got out of what I was saying . . . but then the rest of it, we didn't get very far, or rather, I didn't get very far.
And you know what?
That's okay. I was fully present in the conversation, and not being overbearing (I don't think; I know I can be) and yet, curious and asking from several different perspectives and angles, about some of the issues and feelings about them, to explore the issues between us. I'm proud that I did this, because if I hadn't, I'd be left wondering if I had engaged as well as I should, and tried to work on things between us as much as I should have. Instead, I'm left with a satisfaction that I think, I fairly politely (as far as discussing some issues that have caused hurt and offense could be done) discussed and explored things, and came back to some things repeatedly, and so I know that I did what I could. I am glad that I came back to some things repeatedly, so that I know I wasn't just being run over by her, either, whether or not that was her intent, that isn't my point or what I'm saying, though. Rather, that I pursued what I felt was important between us, and gave some things that were important to me good attention, and just because I'm not satisfied with her answers, with parts of our discussion, doesn't mean I'm not satisfied with how I interacted, and what I accomplished.
I accept that she is a different individual, with her own levels of comfort/discomfort about discussing issues, emotions, and relationships; that she will not necessarily be "as present" as I am, as unguarded as I'd hope, and as forthright as I was being. I did ask about some things in different ways, to try and get through some of these barriers, but, for the most part, they remained. That, too, is okay. That is her right, as her part of our friendship, although I am saddened by some of what I found out, and by her not engaging much on some issues, and basically not engaging at all on others. I am trying not to "mind-read", but given the issues involved, her interaction or lack thereof on those matters tends to reinforce those problematic (for me) attitudes that she has, in my mind.
It's okay; people can disagree. I can alter my interactions with her as I see fit, as I feel appropriate to incorporate those judgements on her part of me that I feel, believe, and KNOW to be unfounded, incorrect, and hurtful. I can choose to not trust her with types of experiences, with certain levels of disclosure, and with more than a light level of intimacy, relatedness, and expression of emotions.
Of course, that last paragraph might just be my "distancing" maneuver, but what do I do? Am I supposed to just continue the level of depth that I think appropriate in a friendship of this nature, KNOWING now some of the negative judgements and perceptions that she thinks are just fine to do to me? It IS MY choice of whom to trust, emotionally and otherwise, and not.
If I feel like less trust and depth is called for, then that is where I will go with it, and be. If that's classical distancing, well, sometimes less trust and depth is called for, and justifiable. And the only one I need to justify it to is me. (Although it WOULD and WILL be good to discuss in therapy; to get that benevolently neutral perspective, because it IS hard for me to sort things out when I'm in the middle of it.)
Anyway, Thanks for reading this Far.
He thought the milk bath joke was funny. It was the only one I could remember at the time!
Sara
She's not old enough to think that working on that may be one of the activities her parents do while she's at school. Thank Goodness.
But WE are! 8^D.
Practice makes perfect . . . .
And it's JUST practice, for now.
Well.
I was Neurontin-sleepy today, so I spent much of the day in bed, relaxing and dozing.
Hope I can sleep tonight!! But I was SO SLEEPY! And besides that, I didn't feel . . . like there was . . . I don't know. I wasn't depressed, but rather just kind of on "pause", if that makes any sense . . . maybe a bit of a depressed dip, I'd say there was one thread that might have been that thinking, but at the same time I know I'm doing stuff lately, and making progress.
It was more like a, well, Pause. I did do something emotionally difficult today, and then processed it a bit as I lay there . . . it kinda sucks that other people won't/don't bring their full selves, or engage as much as I do, when discussing issues between us. I tried in various ways to get at certain things in a deeper way, and also tried to, by various discussion, to illustrate some things that I hoped she would come to understand . . . like that there is much more to me, and much more going on with me, than people can "see" . . . . . . Anyway, on one or two things, we got partway towards where I would have liked to have been, either on finding out more how she felt, in a less guarded way, or on what she got out of what I was saying . . . but then the rest of it, we didn't get very far, or rather, I didn't get very far.
And you know what?
That's okay. I was fully present in the conversation, and not being overbearing (I don't think; I know I can be) and yet, curious and asking from several different perspectives and angles, about some of the issues and feelings about them, to explore the issues between us. I'm proud that I did this, because if I hadn't, I'd be left wondering if I had engaged as well as I should, and tried to work on things between us as much as I should have. Instead, I'm left with a satisfaction that I think, I fairly politely (as far as discussing some issues that have caused hurt and offense could be done) discussed and explored things, and came back to some things repeatedly, and so I know that I did what I could. I am glad that I came back to some things repeatedly, so that I know I wasn't just being run over by her, either, whether or not that was her intent, that isn't my point or what I'm saying, though. Rather, that I pursued what I felt was important between us, and gave some things that were important to me good attention, and just because I'm not satisfied with her answers, with parts of our discussion, doesn't mean I'm not satisfied with how I interacted, and what I accomplished.
I accept that she is a different individual, with her own levels of comfort/discomfort about discussing issues, emotions, and relationships; that she will not necessarily be "as present" as I am, as unguarded as I'd hope, and as forthright as I was being. I did ask about some things in different ways, to try and get through some of these barriers, but, for the most part, they remained. That, too, is okay. That is her right, as her part of our friendship, although I am saddened by some of what I found out, and by her not engaging much on some issues, and basically not engaging at all on others. I am trying not to "mind-read", but given the issues involved, her interaction or lack thereof on those matters tends to reinforce those problematic (for me) attitudes that she has, in my mind.
It's okay; people can disagree. I can alter my interactions with her as I see fit, as I feel appropriate to incorporate those judgements on her part of me that I feel, believe, and KNOW to be unfounded, incorrect, and hurtful. I can choose to not trust her with types of experiences, with certain levels of disclosure, and with more than a light level of intimacy, relatedness, and expression of emotions.
Of course, that last paragraph might just be my "distancing" maneuver, but what do I do? Am I supposed to just continue the level of depth that I think appropriate in a friendship of this nature, KNOWING now some of the negative judgements and perceptions that she thinks are just fine to do to me? It IS MY choice of whom to trust, emotionally and otherwise, and not.
If I feel like less trust and depth is called for, then that is where I will go with it, and be. If that's classical distancing, well, sometimes less trust and depth is called for, and justifiable. And the only one I need to justify it to is me. (Although it WOULD and WILL be good to discuss in therapy; to get that benevolently neutral perspective, because it IS hard for me to sort things out when I'm in the middle of it.)
Anyway, Thanks for reading this Far.
He thought the milk bath joke was funny. It was the only one I could remember at the time!
Sara
Daughter starts 2nd Grade Today . . .
Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan
I'm nervous. I know the IEP we worked out last year has a goal date of this coming January, so I know she's going to get help and some Special Ed and won't be held to the same standard in Math as the other kids (since WHEN was doing Math a timed sport, anyway? I have HUGE problems with this potentially huge anxiety-causing feature of gradeschool, now. Heck, they started timing em in KINDERGARTEN!!) That's a big relief, because, last fall, it was ever-more difficult as fall wore on, to try various alternative ways of explaining and helping her understand the homework.
And since when did they expect First Graders to add 25 and 25? And add and subtract three numbers at once? And they keep pushing more and more into the first grade . . .
Anyway, now on to the 2nd grade. I AM worried about the homework issue, as far as how much time it's going to take her (not that she needs to meet a certain time, but last year they said it'd take 10-15 mins a night, and it was 30 mins or more . . .) . . . As well as new difficulties that may, and probably will, arise this year, given her problems with abstract concepts, and stuff. She's been reading since she was four, though, and is an excellent reader! She has three bookshelves full of books.
I'm also worried about the recess issue, they are going to be doing structured P.E. activities now during all recesses.
BONEHEAD move, that, IMHO. They say kids can have "free" play after school and on weekends, but c'mon! Isn't today's gradeschool child already got a fairly full slate anyway? There's barely enough time for free play as it is outside of school. What with homework taking alot of time, and that doesn't even count "reading" homework, ie, how much general reading for "enjoyment" kids are supposed to do nightly . . . and then, of course, there's helping out around the house, and keeping their room clean, and such.
It's already hard for her to stay focused that long during structured class time; now, she doesn't even get to "play" at recess, it's just going to be P.E.
There's a disctrict-wide directive that all schoolkids get an hour of physical activity a day, and I guess they are making em turn recess into PE . . .
When are kids s'posed to make friends, anyway? Sure, this new method might cut down on bullying, some, but . . . I'm not sure. Is one-two PE teachers supposed to be able to handle 2-3 classes full of children, all at once, through each recess period, throughout the whole day, plus the regular weekly P.E. session for each class? Or is the PE teacher even going to be involved, and will they just be marching in formation, around the perimeter of the building ten times? I don't see much benefit in THAT . . . besides teaching the kids to HATE PE, HATE exercise, and other negative effects.
Anyway, more on that another time.
Hopefully tomorrow will go well for my daughter, and we'll have a good meeting with the teacher, too.
I'm nervous. I know the IEP we worked out last year has a goal date of this coming January, so I know she's going to get help and some Special Ed and won't be held to the same standard in Math as the other kids (since WHEN was doing Math a timed sport, anyway? I have HUGE problems with this potentially huge anxiety-causing feature of gradeschool, now. Heck, they started timing em in KINDERGARTEN!!) That's a big relief, because, last fall, it was ever-more difficult as fall wore on, to try various alternative ways of explaining and helping her understand the homework.
And since when did they expect First Graders to add 25 and 25? And add and subtract three numbers at once? And they keep pushing more and more into the first grade . . .
Anyway, now on to the 2nd grade. I AM worried about the homework issue, as far as how much time it's going to take her (not that she needs to meet a certain time, but last year they said it'd take 10-15 mins a night, and it was 30 mins or more . . .) . . . As well as new difficulties that may, and probably will, arise this year, given her problems with abstract concepts, and stuff. She's been reading since she was four, though, and is an excellent reader! She has three bookshelves full of books.
I'm also worried about the recess issue, they are going to be doing structured P.E. activities now during all recesses.
BONEHEAD move, that, IMHO. They say kids can have "free" play after school and on weekends, but c'mon! Isn't today's gradeschool child already got a fairly full slate anyway? There's barely enough time for free play as it is outside of school. What with homework taking alot of time, and that doesn't even count "reading" homework, ie, how much general reading for "enjoyment" kids are supposed to do nightly . . . and then, of course, there's helping out around the house, and keeping their room clean, and such.
It's already hard for her to stay focused that long during structured class time; now, she doesn't even get to "play" at recess, it's just going to be P.E.
There's a disctrict-wide directive that all schoolkids get an hour of physical activity a day, and I guess they are making em turn recess into PE . . .
When are kids s'posed to make friends, anyway? Sure, this new method might cut down on bullying, some, but . . . I'm not sure. Is one-two PE teachers supposed to be able to handle 2-3 classes full of children, all at once, through each recess period, throughout the whole day, plus the regular weekly P.E. session for each class? Or is the PE teacher even going to be involved, and will they just be marching in formation, around the perimeter of the building ten times? I don't see much benefit in THAT . . . besides teaching the kids to HATE PE, HATE exercise, and other negative effects.
Anyway, more on that another time.
Hopefully tomorrow will go well for my daughter, and we'll have a good meeting with the teacher, too.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Item of the Week: Trendy Owl Rubber Stamp & My Percolating Brain
Click on the title, and do a Search for Savvy Stamps Owl. The stupid website does not give different website address for specific pages on its site, so I can't figure out how to give you a link right to the stamp I'm talking about. Oh, and it's my item of the week 'cause it caught my fancy. Or my casual.
I've seen designer fabrics and other print items featuring mod, and a modernish version of cute, using owls like this all over the place. Normally I'm not into cute, but I like the design and mood and mystery of this owl; what could she be thinking, what could she be up to?
Apparently owls are an up and coming trend, or something. Anyway, as soon as I saw this stamp, I fell in love with it. WHO wouldn't? Hee hee. or rather, hoot hoot!
I had a great session today, but I can FEEL stuff percolating just below the surface; it's like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, when they feed that data into the computer, and wait while it processes for it to spit out what it comes up with from the info. THAT's what it feels like my mind is doing. I kinda like it when this happens, cause this means, that, say 7 hours down the line, 3 days, whatever, all of a sudden it'll be done and DING! Some kind of realization, or at least something that is meaningful that prompts further introspection, on a more conscious, directed level.
At the same time, it feels rather profound and meaningful, and substantive, as to what and why my subconscious (I'm guessing) is working on. It's cool and yet a bit unsettling, because change is scary, and I know I'm progressing, and processing, and WORKING on stuff, especially when I'm in this "mode". Kinda like a back burner, that occasionally gets some half-conscious stirring.
SO! Another drool-worthy bird-themed stamp, or rather, set of stamps, is THIS one (do a search for Rhonna, and its the Nature set; you can click the photo to enlarge), also at that site. Birds, especially the silhouette version, and also the mod/retro cute version in the set as well, are also all over designers' various prints, in textiles, household goods, stationary, and other things.
I've seen designer fabrics and other print items featuring mod, and a modernish version of cute, using owls like this all over the place. Normally I'm not into cute, but I like the design and mood and mystery of this owl; what could she be thinking, what could she be up to?
Apparently owls are an up and coming trend, or something. Anyway, as soon as I saw this stamp, I fell in love with it. WHO wouldn't? Hee hee. or rather, hoot hoot!
I had a great session today, but I can FEEL stuff percolating just below the surface; it's like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, when they feed that data into the computer, and wait while it processes for it to spit out what it comes up with from the info. THAT's what it feels like my mind is doing. I kinda like it when this happens, cause this means, that, say 7 hours down the line, 3 days, whatever, all of a sudden it'll be done and DING! Some kind of realization, or at least something that is meaningful that prompts further introspection, on a more conscious, directed level.
At the same time, it feels rather profound and meaningful, and substantive, as to what and why my subconscious (I'm guessing) is working on. It's cool and yet a bit unsettling, because change is scary, and I know I'm progressing, and processing, and WORKING on stuff, especially when I'm in this "mode". Kinda like a back burner, that occasionally gets some half-conscious stirring.
SO! Another drool-worthy bird-themed stamp, or rather, set of stamps, is THIS one (do a search for Rhonna, and its the Nature set; you can click the photo to enlarge), also at that site. Birds, especially the silhouette version, and also the mod/retro cute version in the set as well, are also all over designers' various prints, in textiles, household goods, stationary, and other things.
Perfectionism vs. the Healthy Pursuit of Excellence (From Feeling Good by Dr. Burns)
I'm just going to go over some of the Perfectionism side of the chart.
BOY these really hit home, that they are ME. And despite the fact that the book says they are distorted thinking, I believe them, and for most of them, I AM them.
Guess that's why I'm in therapy, is to talk through and work on it until I don't believe it anymore . . . . but right at this moment, I DO. I mean, to conceive of a worldview where I didn't, would be like not having any boundaries, not having any means, scheme, method, whatever, for coping with the world and my place in it.
It would be teetering atop a scary pinnacle.
Anyway, here's some of em. The chart is copyrighted by him, but how do I talk about these concepts and how they are affecting me without doing small quotes? I think that's probably okay . . . small, small excerpts for illuminating my point? I dunno.
These . . . are just so, well, how I can feel some measure of control over and/or in the world . . . because to be at the mercies of the world . . . is inconceivably horrific and fearful and delicate. I MUST have some FRAMEWORK to be able to keep myself whole, protected, safe; to keep myself from falling apart.
I MUST compel myself to follow these things; they provide SOMETHING that is somewhat elusive to describe. Something to cling to, to hold on to, something to . . . help me hold on to ME.
Sounds like there's a TON of fear involved . . .
Fear has so many flavors, and I seem to know them all . . .
BOY these really hit home, that they are ME. And despite the fact that the book says they are distorted thinking, I believe them, and for most of them, I AM them.
Guess that's why I'm in therapy, is to talk through and work on it until I don't believe it anymore . . . . but right at this moment, I DO. I mean, to conceive of a worldview where I didn't, would be like not having any boundaries, not having any means, scheme, method, whatever, for coping with the world and my place in it.
It would be teetering atop a scary pinnacle.
Anyway, here's some of em. The chart is copyrighted by him, but how do I talk about these concepts and how they are affecting me without doing small quotes? I think that's probably okay . . . small, small excerpts for illuminating my point? I dunno.
You are motivated by the fear of failure or by a sense of duty.That last one, ESPECIALLY!!! With my OVERLY INTENSE WAVES OF EMOTIONS, and the swings thereof . . . it would be BAD BAD BAD to let up on what seems like what little and few measures of control I can exert, with all my might . . . I MUST CONTAIN IT!!! And, there have been times, where I felt that I must die trying . . . or that I WOULD die trying, from the strain of it, the pain, and the COMPLETE AND HORRIBLE ISOLATION of it.
You feel you must earn your self-esteem. You think you must be very "special" or intelligent or successful to be loved and accepted by others.
You are terrified by failure. If you do not achieve an important goal, you feel like a failure as a human being.
You think you must always be strong and in control of your emotions. You are reluctant to share vulnerable feelings like sadness, insecurity, or anger with others. You believe they would think less of you.
These . . . are just so, well, how I can feel some measure of control over and/or in the world . . . because to be at the mercies of the world . . . is inconceivably horrific and fearful and delicate. I MUST have some FRAMEWORK to be able to keep myself whole, protected, safe; to keep myself from falling apart.
I MUST compel myself to follow these things; they provide SOMETHING that is somewhat elusive to describe. Something to cling to, to hold on to, something to . . . help me hold on to ME.
Sounds like there's a TON of fear involved . . .
Fear has so many flavors, and I seem to know them all . . .
Monday, August 21, 2006
I need a good joke.
Something to tell Dr. Mower tomorrow. I sometimes like to start the session off with a joke, but it's been awhile since I did it.
Besides that, if any of you like rubber stamping, scrapbooking, or making jewelry I have some stuff for sale on my stamping blog (yes, I've started a fourth blog . . . is there a Multiple-Blog disorder in the DSMV-IV? Or is that coming in V? hee hee) to help raise us some dough.
Make an offer on anything that you think is too $$$.
I have some more jewelry bits n' bobs that I decided didn't suit what I had thought I'd use em for, but they're perfectly fine, that I'll be putting up later. Obviously I need to post this notice over on my beading blog . . .
Besides that, if any of you like rubber stamping, scrapbooking, or making jewelry I have some stuff for sale on my stamping blog (yes, I've started a fourth blog . . . is there a Multiple-Blog disorder in the DSMV-IV? Or is that coming in V? hee hee) to help raise us some dough.
Make an offer on anything that you think is too $$$.
I have some more jewelry bits n' bobs that I decided didn't suit what I had thought I'd use em for, but they're perfectly fine, that I'll be putting up later. Obviously I need to post this notice over on my beading blog . . .
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Hullo!
I'm ok.
It was disassociation. I don't know much about it, especially considering that it generally features me forgetting it happened right afterwards.
There was this time, last year sometime, when I was at my in-laws' and we were having dinner. I needed to get up from the table to get something from the kitchen, so I did. Somewhere between the few steps between the table and the kitchen, "I" was nowhere to be found.
There was no "I". I will continute to use the word I, though, because I don't know any other way of referring to myself. Anyway, I had a vague bother inside of some distant purpose that was supposed to be, but I couldn't feel too much bother about it, because there was no conscious ME there to feel about anything, anyway. It's like I was trapped in the back of my head, and some consciousless thing was possessing my body. Sort of.
Anyway, as I dithered for a minute there, wandering around that side of the kitchen island and fridge, feeling a very vague slight unease that there was, again, some purpose that was missing, I eventually saw a blue plastic cup with a drink in it on the counter. I had no self-directive abilities; what I did, or rather, what this consciousless version of myself did, was "borrow" the "will" of the cup, and I took it back to the table, set it down, sat down, and sort of fell back into my selfhood. I kinda had a vague, distant sense that something had happened, some oddness, that faded rapidly and was gone within 5 seconds.
A few minutes later, my niece Jordyn was wondering where her drink had gone, from the kitchen island. I didn't think anything of it, and kept eating, but then a growing vague unease began to build inside, and as I spied the blue cup, a sense of it BELONGING there filled me and I kept on eating. After another minute or so, all of a sudden a recollection of my identity-less kitchen wandering jolted into memory, and I felt really STUPID as I realized I had taken her drink. I awkwardly rectified the matter, and mumbled some kind of I kind of absent-mindedly grabbed it when I was in the kitchen and forgot why I was there, kind of thing.
But this was way more than just being in a room and going, "Now why did I come in here again?" kind of thing.
Anyhoo, when I remembered this last fall or this January or something, and related it to Dr. Mower, he said I dissociated. Or is it disassociated? Probably the latter.
And, as I discussed it with him, it came to me that this is something I've experienced many times my whole life, but it gets forgotten practically as soon as it happens, and so it's like it never did . . . except for that feeling of knowing this place somehow that I've apparently been to before . . . I guess, the little I may have ever thought about it, in those first few fading seconds of awareness of the event after one happened, is that it was something that happened to everyone and nothing of note.
But I guess it doesn't happen to everyone. And now, you all may think I'm REALLY wierd or scary.
Perhaps picturing a zombie or Frankenstein-like mode. Okay, I can LOL at that too, as long as we are LOLing and realizing this is a real thing, that is extremely disconcerting (although, I suppose, one of the built in benefits of this is one actually can't be too disconcerted by what one doesn't remember . . .)
More on how I feel, to realize that I have this strange and to me, disturbing, psychological event, and literal "identity theft" thrust upon me through no fault of my own, with no control or anything that I can do about it.
It was disassociation. I don't know much about it, especially considering that it generally features me forgetting it happened right afterwards.
There was this time, last year sometime, when I was at my in-laws' and we were having dinner. I needed to get up from the table to get something from the kitchen, so I did. Somewhere between the few steps between the table and the kitchen, "I" was nowhere to be found.
There was no "I". I will continute to use the word I, though, because I don't know any other way of referring to myself. Anyway, I had a vague bother inside of some distant purpose that was supposed to be, but I couldn't feel too much bother about it, because there was no conscious ME there to feel about anything, anyway. It's like I was trapped in the back of my head, and some consciousless thing was possessing my body. Sort of.
Anyway, as I dithered for a minute there, wandering around that side of the kitchen island and fridge, feeling a very vague slight unease that there was, again, some purpose that was missing, I eventually saw a blue plastic cup with a drink in it on the counter. I had no self-directive abilities; what I did, or rather, what this consciousless version of myself did, was "borrow" the "will" of the cup, and I took it back to the table, set it down, sat down, and sort of fell back into my selfhood. I kinda had a vague, distant sense that something had happened, some oddness, that faded rapidly and was gone within 5 seconds.
A few minutes later, my niece Jordyn was wondering where her drink had gone, from the kitchen island. I didn't think anything of it, and kept eating, but then a growing vague unease began to build inside, and as I spied the blue cup, a sense of it BELONGING there filled me and I kept on eating. After another minute or so, all of a sudden a recollection of my identity-less kitchen wandering jolted into memory, and I felt really STUPID as I realized I had taken her drink. I awkwardly rectified the matter, and mumbled some kind of I kind of absent-mindedly grabbed it when I was in the kitchen and forgot why I was there, kind of thing.
But this was way more than just being in a room and going, "Now why did I come in here again?" kind of thing.
Anyhoo, when I remembered this last fall or this January or something, and related it to Dr. Mower, he said I dissociated. Or is it disassociated? Probably the latter.
And, as I discussed it with him, it came to me that this is something I've experienced many times my whole life, but it gets forgotten practically as soon as it happens, and so it's like it never did . . . except for that feeling of knowing this place somehow that I've apparently been to before . . . I guess, the little I may have ever thought about it, in those first few fading seconds of awareness of the event after one happened, is that it was something that happened to everyone and nothing of note.
But I guess it doesn't happen to everyone. And now, you all may think I'm REALLY wierd or scary.
Perhaps picturing a zombie or Frankenstein-like mode. Okay, I can LOL at that too, as long as we are LOLing and realizing this is a real thing, that is extremely disconcerting (although, I suppose, one of the built in benefits of this is one actually can't be too disconcerted by what one doesn't remember . . .)
More on how I feel, to realize that I have this strange and to me, disturbing, psychological event, and literal "identity theft" thrust upon me through no fault of my own, with no control or anything that I can do about it.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Disoriented
UGH!
I have to keep re-orienting myself, as I all of a sudden don't know where I am, and even have to remember WHO I am.
First, I don't know where I am, and then, it clicks into place, but the WRONG place clicks into place. My brain thinks I'm in the basement of my parents' old house in Bountiful. And it FEELS right, and fitting to my surroundings.
This is so wierd, and scary when I realize, "Wait, this isn't where I am.". Not, "That's not where I am.". It feels like where I am so it's "THIS isn't where I am.".
Then, it's like someone's pulled the one-armed bandit handle and like my presence-ness, my where-being, is spinnging ala one of those reels, until it suddenly (without any slowing) comes to a stop, jarringly, in my current, real, surroundings.
And yet, there's a feeling as though this reality is . . . possibly a wallpaper, or veneer, that could be stripped away under the right (wrong?) circumstances.
And then, a few minutes later, this whole thing starts up again when I realize that I believe I am in my parents' basement again.
It isn't so much that I SEE my parents' basement, although there's a shimmering of my surroundings morphing into that, there's definitely a feeling and a sort of seeing it, as though out of the corner or somewhat peripheral vision . . . It's more than a shimmering of it, it's as though it's switching between the two "stations" and the tuner won't stay set . . . and my surrounds keep feeling like they really "fit" into the visual of my parents' basement, and get overlaid by it.
I'm trying to convey this really, really, well, because it is VERY confusing. EXTREMELY disorienting, and somewhat disturbing . . . I feel that it "should" be MORE disturbing, except when I am in parents' basement mode, it "feels" right. At least, until it doesn't. Well, it's not that it doesn't become NOT feeling right, but rather that, cognitively, I suddenly realize, logically, that HEY, something's off, here . . .
Anyway. WIERD. Disturbing. Now you might all think I'm mental. Crazy. Loopy. Insane. Unbalanced. Unhinged. Teetering. Any other stereotypical mentally ill word you can think of.
My brain feels cognitively dizzy, as though my physical sense of dizziness could be a thought-sense of dizziness. UGH, that's not explained well. It's not a whirling of thoughts, but a dizziness of my where-ness, a dizziness of my who-ness (a little tiny bit), a dizziness of the basic process of thought/thinking, itself.
Obviously, I'm going to bring all this up w/my ologist tomorrow, and perhaps I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. Although I'm not necessarily saying this is a huge or big deal, but . . . it's definitely WIERD, and I hate feeling like someone is messing with my existence. With what dimension I'm in.
Sara out. I'm gonna lay down and try to get things to stop this, although I dunno how.
I have to keep re-orienting myself, as I all of a sudden don't know where I am, and even have to remember WHO I am.
First, I don't know where I am, and then, it clicks into place, but the WRONG place clicks into place. My brain thinks I'm in the basement of my parents' old house in Bountiful. And it FEELS right, and fitting to my surroundings.
This is so wierd, and scary when I realize, "Wait, this isn't where I am.". Not, "That's not where I am.". It feels like where I am so it's "THIS isn't where I am.".
Then, it's like someone's pulled the one-armed bandit handle and like my presence-ness, my where-being, is spinnging ala one of those reels, until it suddenly (without any slowing) comes to a stop, jarringly, in my current, real, surroundings.
And yet, there's a feeling as though this reality is . . . possibly a wallpaper, or veneer, that could be stripped away under the right (wrong?) circumstances.
And then, a few minutes later, this whole thing starts up again when I realize that I believe I am in my parents' basement again.
It isn't so much that I SEE my parents' basement, although there's a shimmering of my surroundings morphing into that, there's definitely a feeling and a sort of seeing it, as though out of the corner or somewhat peripheral vision . . . It's more than a shimmering of it, it's as though it's switching between the two "stations" and the tuner won't stay set . . . and my surrounds keep feeling like they really "fit" into the visual of my parents' basement, and get overlaid by it.
I'm trying to convey this really, really, well, because it is VERY confusing. EXTREMELY disorienting, and somewhat disturbing . . . I feel that it "should" be MORE disturbing, except when I am in parents' basement mode, it "feels" right. At least, until it doesn't. Well, it's not that it doesn't become NOT feeling right, but rather that, cognitively, I suddenly realize, logically, that HEY, something's off, here . . .
Anyway. WIERD. Disturbing. Now you might all think I'm mental. Crazy. Loopy. Insane. Unbalanced. Unhinged. Teetering. Any other stereotypical mentally ill word you can think of.
My brain feels cognitively dizzy, as though my physical sense of dizziness could be a thought-sense of dizziness. UGH, that's not explained well. It's not a whirling of thoughts, but a dizziness of my where-ness, a dizziness of my who-ness (a little tiny bit), a dizziness of the basic process of thought/thinking, itself.
Obviously, I'm going to bring all this up w/my ologist tomorrow, and perhaps I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. Although I'm not necessarily saying this is a huge or big deal, but . . . it's definitely WIERD, and I hate feeling like someone is messing with my existence. With what dimension I'm in.
Sara out. I'm gonna lay down and try to get things to stop this, although I dunno how.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Happy Blogaversary to me!
So it's been a year! I was tied up all day yesterday, which was the actual one year date, so I'm posting today. I started off the blog with this poem I wrote in 1993; most of you have read this before, but this plea of mine is still how I feel, so it's worth repeating.
A year . . . I've kinda wandered in several directions with this blog, and been rather unfocused at times, but hey, that's me. I have better intentions than I end up implementing, but that's me too.
Break out the non-alcoholic drinks, and party! That is, if my presence in the blogosphere is worth celebrating . . . (how pathetic is that, that I'm fishing for validation!!!) Well, I know I'm worth it, anyway! I think. I hope. Lol!
hear me
Do you hear my silent cries?
Are you listening for them?
Do you see the emptiness inside
where anger howls and batters away
inside me where pain is all
and frustration threatens to drown
all that I am and drain me away?
Do you see my dread to reveal too much
of who I am lest you recoil
from my ugliness that I fear
you will see inside me?
Please see some spark in me worth saving,
that I might have an anchor
in the midst of a churning,
storm-tossed sea, helpless
against the onslaught of fear
that looms and threatens to devour
my identity and my choices
of who I want to be.
As I try to withstand the
hurricane-force winds that shatter,
and scatter the shards of my
pain-wracked soul beyond my
trembling reach, please hear my
silent, desperate plea for succor
in my time of need and hopeless hoping
that perhaps someone may
nurture my anguished spirit and
hold my fragile heart in careful,
tender hands, with much Love and
Patience to endure me through
my trials and rejoice with me
as I discover precious eternal
truths.
- Copyright 1993 Sara J.P.(F.), July
Do you hear my silent cries?
Are you listening for them?
Do you see the emptiness inside
where anger howls and batters away
inside me where pain is all
and frustration threatens to drown
all that I am and drain me away?
Do you see my dread to reveal too much
of who I am lest you recoil
from my ugliness that I fear
you will see inside me?
Please see some spark in me worth saving,
that I might have an anchor
in the midst of a churning,
storm-tossed sea, helpless
against the onslaught of fear
that looms and threatens to devour
my identity and my choices
of who I want to be.
As I try to withstand the
hurricane-force winds that shatter,
and scatter the shards of my
pain-wracked soul beyond my
trembling reach, please hear my
silent, desperate plea for succor
in my time of need and hopeless hoping
that perhaps someone may
nurture my anguished spirit and
hold my fragile heart in careful,
tender hands, with much Love and
Patience to endure me through
my trials and rejoice with me
as I discover precious eternal
truths.
- Copyright 1993 Sara J.P.(F.), July
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