Slow and Steady Wins the Race and other random thoughts

About 6 months ago I started a plan to try to lose weight. I was never a candidate for "My 600-lb Life," but I was also not small. I'm still not small, but I have made an improvement in my health. It is slow, but hopefully the slow and steady rate makes for long-term results. I started around Thanksgiving, which in itself is a challenging time to start a diet, but I also started a job outside the home. For those of us that are battling with social anxiety and introversion, you can understand this was a giant change for me.

I discovered through work that my anxiety mostly refers to adult interaction. The kids at the elementary school where I work do not worry me, they don't make me think twice about what they say...even the "disrespectful" kids don't phase me.I know to not take it personally when they are defiant. There are often other issues those kids are dealing with that have nothing to do with me. In many ways, I enjoy those kids that present a challenge.

As an obese person, I know that most people treat fat people as invisible. You can look around at your child's game and find skinny parents hanging out together and they make little to no effort to connect with you. That's just one example, but wherever you are, if you are obese, you will be ignored/invisible 90 percent of the time.

Honestly, so far I have lost about 50 lbs. It's a start, but no where near I need to be.

I'm so tired of being invisible. It feels like my kids are also being judged by their mom's weight. I feel like a failure. I am working to lose the weight, but combined with my anxiety, it seems like I and my kids will always be on the outside. We're never in the "in" crowd.  We're never invited to the party.

In many ways, I am happy we're not invited. My initial reaction to any invitation is "no."

At the same time, I want my kids to be included. I want them to have BFFs. I want them to make life-long friends, even though their mom couldn't do it. Their dad did it. His best friend was his best man and still talks to him.. They've been friends since elementary school. Friends are best that stick with you and know your interests. It takes us introverts a lot to try to make a connection with anyone..add social anxiety and we're really screwed. Then add obesity to the picture and it's pretty much clinched that people aren't going to want to hang out with you. It's okay. I get it. Much of the time I don't want to hang out with me either. But I want more for my kids and I'm afraid I'm teaching the wrong example.

So I'm trying to encourage my kids to participate in sports now so they might stay active later. The boy is presenting a problem, in that he doesn't seem to want to participate in anything. I think he'd do well in soccer or cross-country, but he is resistant. Both girls are big into softball, which isn't the most active sport, but it's better than nothing.

It's sad that 50 pounds lost looks like nothing. I have hope that I will become the me I should be though.

My Boy Has A Lot Of Promise

My son started 5th grade 2 weeks ago. He goes to a school that has a short 6-week summer break and starts the next grade at the end of July. School is then in session for 9 weeks, followed by 3 weeks of break. We love the schedule for the most part. It's difficult in some ways now that my oldest child is in middle school and is on a traditional school calendar, but we wish that she was on the modified calendar still!

K Man has been diagnosed with dysgraphia, fine motor skill delay and short-term memory impairment. We have taken him for testing twice since 2nd grade. He tests with a high average IQ which, in Minnesota, disqualifies him for an IEP, but he still is able to have a 504 plan. (Don't know what they are? Please Google!)

We are very fortunate to have a principal that is willing to go the extra mile for the kids in his school, so he found a loophole to get K Man OT to improve his handwriting (it is better, but still hard to read) and extra help to develop his general writing skills. He's also received help with reading since 2nd grade.

The school uses a color system to level the kids for their reading skills. K Man was below grade level all of last year. Just today K Man almost tested at grade level. He was 2 vocab words away from testing AT GRADE LEVEL. This is HUGE for him and I am so proud of him. He has come a long way since 2nd grade.

I know the kid is brilliant in perhaps, non-conventional ways. He will find a niche and blow it out of the water. He continues to surprise and perplex me. I'm sure I'll never understand how his mind works. I'm excited to see his future endeavors.

I'm A LOT Less Funny and Interesting in Person

People that only "know" me online tell me all the time how funny, sweet, fun, and nice I am but that just goes to show you how things online are often deceiving. I'm not a jerk in real life, I don't think, but I'm also not a great conversationalist. Put me in a group and I'll either say nothing at all or I'll interrupt someone else when they're trying to talk because I can't ever seem to get the conversational cues right to know when I can interject. I've also been told that when I do talk, I usually offer something worthwhile.

It's possible these people that tell me that are just blowing smoke up my arse.

I wish I could go to a party or meet friends for a hot chocolate without a thought. When I get an invitation to go somewhere my immediate reaction is to say no. This is part of my temperament, this knee-jerk reaction to say no to every invite. Once I finally think things through and my answer turns toward yes I have another obstacle to overcome. The closer the time to leave for said event arrives, the more my stomach begins to roll. Outwardly, I look fine. My husband and kids will often not know I am freaking out. I push myself. One. Step. At. A. Time.  Keys in the ignition. Drive to the place. Deep breaths in the car in the parking lot. More deep breaths.

Entering the building creates a new wave of panic. What if no one showed up? What if I'm meeting no one? How stupid would I look to sit down and wait only to find no one arrives?

I push myself through the door and look around, trying to look normal, trying to look confident. I think it must work most of the time because people often comment they have no idea I have issues.

Often I rely on others to make the conversation. Often I sit awkwardly while others around me converse. I keep trying though.

I'm certain 50% of the people I encounter think I am aloof, or a bitch. If they only knew.

You Shouldn't Have to Say Goodbye

By the time this is published my cat will be dead. It's not easy to make the decision to end your pet's life. It sucks, and I hate that word, but it does.

She is/was almost 16 and 1/2 years old. For a pet, I know this is a fairly long life. She's been peeing and pooping outside of her litter box for almost a year now. She barfs up her food at least once a week. She yaks hairballs every other day.

I took her to the vet almost a year ago about the elimination outside the litter box. We tried the medication which caused her to have diarrhea. The vet told us to stop it. We bought a new box. We moved the box. We moved her food. We have done everything.

I am writing this in the present tense because she isn't gone yet. I made the appointment today (November 14) and I have cried on and off since.

It's silly, really. I know she's had a great, long life. SIXTEEN and 1/2 years! And for a cat I never wanted (I inherited her from a friend) she's grown on me a lot. I never was particularly fond of cats since I nearly had a cat claw in my eye as a kid. I thought they were stuck-up PITAs.

Chat was different from the start. She had fleas so we had to treat that. She looked pitiful in the bathtub of our college apartment. Then she had ear mites, then she needed to be spayed...then declawed. All of this fell to my roommate, who was her owner.

Then, about 6 months later, circumstances led to me taking Chat as my pet. (Chat means cat in French and is pronounced like "shah.")

Within a few months I had taught Chat to come when she was called, and to sit and then lay down for a treat.When I awoke, (if I was home) she'd be asleep on my chest. If I was not home during the evenings, she'd have pooped on my carpet.

So she's always expressed her distaste if she needed to do so.

At this point, she's ruined multiple carpets and medication hasn't been the answer. We have tried everything I can think of to help her change her bad behaviors but nothing has worked.

I already miss her, and by the time you read this, she will be gone.

Photos Anyone?

I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to promoting my photography. I should be handing business cards out to everyone I meet. I should be advertising. I should be just doing more. That anxiety comes into play at least in some ways. I'm constantly a critic of myself, thinking why would they want my card?  I have had no negative feedback when I've handed out a card. I haven't gained any business as a result either, but you never know.

I've had several return clients so far, so I know that those who have used me are happy with the results. If I could increase my sessions it would be fantastic. If I could learn to put myself out there more I could probably increase sessions. I guess I should just shove a card at people everywhere?

Looking for the Slo-Mo Button

 It's one of those things that people tell you all the time when your kids are babies... "Oh the time goes so fast." I always laughed and agreed but I don't think I really realized how quickly the years would seem to pass. But suddenly my first baby is 10 years old and in her final year of elementary school. She's irritated by this only because she will be out of the school the year before her little sister starts Kindergarten there. She feels a bit ripped off that she doesn't get to go to school with her.

By the end of this school year I will need to face the fact that my first baby will be in middle school. There is a smaller school that I hope to send her to but there are a lot of people who'd like their kids to attend school there so we will be subjected to a lottery. If she doesn't get selected as a student there, my first reaction is to home-school her. She learns pretty easily (especially considering the difficulties her brother faces) so I think it would be okay. I think. I'd still rather see her attend the middle school though.

Middle school scares me though. I'm not ready for any of my children to graduate to the pre-teen angst. Middle school was hard for me. Girls can be very cruel to one another. I have a strong feeling that it's worse today than it was when I was in school.

M still assumes the best of people, which is both good and bad. Sometimes she just doesn't realize that someone is not being kind to her or that someone may not be treating others nicely. I've talked to her about a few of the girls in her class and she's been slowly separating herself from these girls with questionable motives. Her teacher remarked at her conference last week that M is especially kind. She helps her classmates who have more trouble learning than she does. She doesn't realize she's helping herself as well (to teach someone to do something reinforces your own learning of it) and she does it selflessly. I want her to retain this kindness, but I don't want people to take advantage of her kindness either.

I don't want them to hurt her beautiful heart. That's the part of parenting that stinks the most...knowing you have to let your child get hurt sometimes...knowing it is a part of growing up and growing away.

I just can't quit you and then I ramble on

I still have little to say, but I can't let this place get too dusty. Darn. The spiders are already spinning their cobwebs in every corner.

Still, I don't know how to write here yet without including my kids. I could still include D, but then it would feel like I wasn't being "fair" to my other kids, though it's probably best to not write about the Bigs as much anymore anyway.

So, what to do? I don't think I can mothball Cool Zebras entirely. I suppose I have to reinvent the wheel so to speak. Photography, crafts, weight loss (please let me lose weight! Gaaaahhhh!), fiction and poetry...what type of blog to morph into? I'm not sure right now.

Is there anyone still out there reading anyway?

I guess that doesn't really matter that much, but I'd still be interested to know. I'll write here anyway.

Have you read The Hunger Games series? I really enjoyed the books myself. I liked the first 2 books better than the last one, just because I enjoyed the development of relationships more than the issues dealt with in the last book. I was team Peeta all the way, but then I am a sucker for the boy next door. My 9 (almost 10)-year-old wants to read the series. I'm not sure if she should, but when I went to the movie there were a lot of younger kids there. I'm probably too protective. The whole kids killing kids thing, yet we have that in many cities in the U.S. even today. The Hunger Games is set in post-apocalyptic America, so by the time of the novels there has been extreme violence and hardship. Also, the majority of the kids selected for the games are older. It is a more modern thought that kids are "kids" until they are 18.

I have to admit I sometimes think that kids should not be considered kids at a younger age.

But my kids are not yet at that age so it's easier for me to say so.

When Is Blogging Hurting Kids' Right to Privacy?

I have opened a blank page many times over the last several days. The blank page is sometimes intimidating to me, but this intimidation has been different. It seems the end of this blog has come about organically. I no longer see everything my children do and say as blog fodder. It is tempered with the thoughts that my kids' lives are inherently private. Maybe they always have been, but when my nearing-10-year-old asks me a personal question about getting older I have to censor myself.

How would I feel if my honest and open questions had been broadcast to the masses? I was humiliated enough when I first got my period. I had little knowledge of what would happen. It happened to start during a long car ride. I used wads of toilet paper to deal with it for 2 days.

Things that should not have been humiliating to me, were. I got my first bra in 6th grade. I wish girls could wait that long now. {censor what I want to say about this! Gah!} The boys teased us mercilessly. They'd run a pencil eraser up our backs to see if there was a bump in the back. It was a big deal then. I haven't cared for many, many years who knew I was wearing a bra.

So I think this blog is ending at least as a "mommy blog." It no longer feels right to blog about my Bigs, especially my oldest Big. I know there are few readers left here anyway.

I will re-work this blog, probably focusing more on my photography.

I reserve the right to post random thoughts.

Where I'm Writing and Why I'm Not Writing

I write in my head when I'm laying in bed. It does me no good then. My mind races from idea to idea and if I get up to write them down it would only prolong my chronic insomnia. Some of the ideas are fleeting, others develop into a full story line which is almost always forgotten when I am able to sit down to write again.

That novel I started several years ago? I still think it has potential. I have no idea where my notebook with my writing went. I thought I was organized, but clearly I am not. I've heard that the state of your living space reflects your mental space and mine is cluttered.

It's easy to make excuses for myself. My brother-in-law died last month and the truth of that has brought to the surface issues we all have to face. I want to spend my time on this earth enjoying my family, not doing chores. But chores still need to be done. Circumstances and even tragedy can be spun to give myself excuses why I don't do things. I call bullshit on myself.

Nonetheless, it doesn't seem to spark my drive.

I'm fat and lazy and seem to have lost my writing mojo, if I ever had any. Life seems both too short and too long. I'm both living a dream and thwarting my chances at really living my dream.

When do you know you're not taking enough chances? When is loving your family and being grateful for what you have just being too safe?

I Vaguely Remember When I Was Funny

So my plan of packing up the kids' toys was thwarted by a barfing preschooler. Darn Friday the 13th anyway...though I'm insanely grateful that vomiting is the worst that Friday the Thirteenth threw our way.

If I'm totally honest, Friday the 13th hasn't ever really been that bad. At the very least, it hasn't been remarkably bad since I can't remember anything.

Once the kids toys were packed up, my plan for yesterday included using our new Family Y membership. Swimming is my preferred activity so far (surprising, considering my size) but Mother Nature arrived to make swimming-at the very least-awkward for the next few days. Perhaps D's illness was a sort of good thing in that respect. (I have to say she is pretty much the most agreeable sick person ever.)

I took the Bigs to the Y while Ms. D was at her home school co-op preschool on Wednesday. The 3 of us pretended to play racquetball and we stunk up the place with our bad skillz. Both Bigs took a ball each to the face so at least it was even. Next on our non-aquatic agenda will be basketball. I'm taking bets on the number of bruises received during that first session.

I'm reading the Twilight series. I'm sort of embarrassed to admit I love the books. If I had been a teenager when these books came out I'd definitely be a groupie. I find Edward's character more interesting than the character of Jacob thus far (I'm just into reading Eclipse). Edward has to sacrifice more. The restraint he (especially he) and Bella have to exercise is smoldering. The non-sex scenes are hotter than any sex scene by far. If only we realized that when we were in those shoes!?!

Hey! Nothing like rambling blog posts! No wonder I have no readers! :) It's okay, I kind of like talking to myself.

Very Superstitious and Tangential

I can admit it, the number 13 freaks me out. It's stupid and silly and idontcarebecausethatsjusthowiam. If I remember during the day that it is Friday the 13th I get a little wigged out. Most of the time I forget. I think.

Today I'm going to pretend it's just Friday. The last Friday of my Bigs' Winter break. We're going to spend at least part of the day packing up the majority of my kids' toys. They've shown lack of consideration of the value of most of their things. They have 4,379,579,895 toys between the three of them and it shows that they have too many because so many end up broken. The broken toys are mourned for 2.3 seconds before they're forgotten because they have so many others to play with (and break).

The most responsible kid is Miss M which is good since she's the oldest. She should be, and in truth, she takes pretty good care of most of her things most of the time.

My son is terrible about taking care of his things. Some of the problem, I know, is caused because he has dyslexia. Dyslexia makes organization difficult. Another issue is that he finds taking things apart fascinating. It can take a toll on the pocketbook. It stinks also because he feels terrible after the thing is broken but he seems helpless to stop himself.
Then there is the little one. So far, most of her toys are pretty indestructible just because she's little still and the toys are made more sturdy. I still worry that she has so many toys around her she sees no value in them.
So my plan includes packing up most of my kids' toys. After a week of proving they can take care of and put away 5 toys each, they can list another 5 toys they'd like back. Until they can't list any more toys because they can't remember what they had. If they can't remember what they had, those toys are GONE.
These kids are too important to me. Entitlement is not something they should be feeling. I want to teach my kids to be grateful for even small things in life. Tomorrow it could be gone.

It's Still 2011, RIGHT?

I'm not sure how it happened but Halloween rolled right into Thanksgiving and before I knew it we were doing our traditional early hour countdown to the new year with the kids.

My new year so far has been consumed with hours in a courthouse and a courtroom as a potential juror in a criminal case. After 3 days of voir dire I was excused and the panel of 14 jurors were seated. I was both relieved and disappointed. The trial will be long and disturbing. There were hints of how disturbing it would be during jury questioning. I'm probably lucky I don't have to serve on the jury. But it's still a little disappointing too. It would have been interesting to be involved in the justice system and being a part of that. Though I can also admit that 3 days of waiting, sitting, and answering questions was also very draining. I can't imagine how I'd have felt after 2 or more weeks of a trial.

My big kids are on school break this week and still next week. I am hoping that we will pack some fun into next week since my jury duty put a damper on activities this week.

My husband has a "big" birthday coming up in a couple of weeks. It was my hope to have a party for him, but time escaped me. Maybe this summer we can host a belated party. Also? I'm not sure how it happened that this birthday is coming up for him because I'm only 2 years younger than him and I'm still 29.

Yesterday it was 50 degrees in Minnesota. In January. Crazy. I took the kids out for a bike ride and had to keep reminding them to stay out of the mud (I know, I'm a total buzz kill). It also reminded me how out of shape, fat and unhealthy I have become. I may be purchasing a Family Y membership on Monday. I hope. I'd like to go swim laps and work into other activities as I get more in shape. We shall see.

I'm out of practice blogging. This is my weak attempt at posting something.

Perhaps the next days will provide inspiration again.

Change of Perspective

When I was a kid, I'd lay upside-down in a chair or off the sofa, feet stretched over the back of the furniture, chin up and hair dangling to the floor. My kids do the same sort of thing. I don't remember when I stopped doing it. I'm not sure what the allure was and is with seeing the world upside-down. Perhaps it's just the temporary change of perspective.

I remember inverting my world and imagining walking on the ceiling. I'd step over the top of the doorway, which should have seemed awkward but just seemed a part of the change. In my mind I'd continue throughout the house, experiencing our home in a unique way. I don't recall ever thinking it was weird that I was doing this.

It seemed like it reset my perspective in the right-side-up world.

The upside-down world had few obstacles. There were light fixtures, the occasional ceiling fan and those doorway things I had to step over, but other than that the "floors" were remarkably and refreshingly clear. I'm sure this isn't what I thought I was enjoying then, but hindsight is another perspective.

I wonder what, if anything, my kids are imagining when they invert their worlds for those moments. Are they resetting their perspectives too?

This time of year always catches me in a downward slump. The light and warmth dwindle. I find myself more and more anxious about interactions with people. My mind creates negative feedback where there most likely is none. If at all possible, I avoid meetings and interactions. This almost never is possible at this time of year. My stomach churns before each meeting.

Perhaps I need to see the world upside-down again.

Flying in Dreams

I had a dream yesterday morning. It was one of those light sleep dreams that occur when you fall back asleep after you hit the snooze button. These are 10-minute stretches of dreaming which are usually the only dreams I ever remember.

This dream was vivid. Colors, even the sensation of movement, stayed with me long after I woke for the final time. I don't recall how the dream began, but I was floating or flying in our bedroom. It was exactly how I would imagine a person having a near-death experience would feel and I recall even having that thought while I was dreaming. I flew around the room a bit then decided to try to fly through the patio door. I was successful flying through the glass and angled down to look into our dining room window. It was brightly lit and I looked in and saw my kids playing, but they were younger than they are now.

I ventured higher in the air and saw the city, lit up at night. I remember wanting to visit certain people. Some I was successful in visiting, others I couldn't get my body to steer toward.

The alarm pierced my dream. I fumbled to hit the snooze button and settled back into the pillow.

I was in a doctor's office or scientist's lab. They wanted to see if I could really float and fly. Within seconds I was airborne again. Flying this time in New York, flying over oceans, peninsulas. There were woodsy areas. There was a house, clearly under construction, wrapped in pink. It stood at the point on an island. Construction workers moved around it, busily undistracted by my presence.

I could feel the wind in my hair. My clothes pushed against my skin. Small areas of my clothes flapped behind me.

Suddenly I knew that I needed to land. I landed and found my husband in the trees.

The alarm blared again.

Anxiety, Business and Friends Edition

It's never comfortable. I've known most of my friends for at least 8 years now and yet meeting them anywhere for anything still makes my stomach do flip-flops. I force myself to go, knowing that it will be mostly okay once I get there. If there are several people at the gathering, I'm proud of myself for speaking up even a few times.

Anxiety is pretty sucky. I'm not sure what it is that my brain thinks will happen when I get together with friends, but I suppose it's my imagination running without reason. I think they'll be thinking how fat I've gotten. (And I don't blame them, I think it's terrible and I've lost control of my body.) I think they'll look at the pimples on my face and cringe in disgust. I think they'll be bored with my anecdotes.

I'm better on paper, as they say.

The very thought of meeting someone new is nerve-wracking, which is somewhat counter-intuitive to running a photography business.

The anticipation of the session is exciting. Then the hour before the session is scheduled to start my stomach clenches and my hands shake. This continues until the first 10 minutes of the session are complete. After those initial minutes the confidence breaks through. I know what I'm doing and I know I do it well. The clients are looking to me for guidance. I'm the expert.

It's been similar with every new job I started. At the beginning, when I didn't know the ropes, I was quiet and nervous. As time passed and I learned my jobs better I was confident and vocal. Each photography session is like a new job, accelerated. Months are passed in minutes.

I hate how my hands tremble at the beginning of a session. I hate how my voice trembles like my hands. I hate how insecure and uncertain I appear at the start of the session.

By the end of the (approximately) hour-long session I feel in-control. I wish I felt like that at the beginning of the session.

Possible Answers and Probable Questions

I'm anxious this morning.

My mom is coming out to our house to babysit the three kids. Craig is going to take some time off from work. I will drive to the Mayo Clinic by myself, ride the elevator up and check in at a desk as K Man's mom.

The Mayo Clinic can be intimidating I suppose. I grew up here, mostly. Doctors don't seem that special to me. I could have been a doctor. I didn't want to be one. It's a job; a career. Just like any other. Yes, it takes more training than many choices. But I've met several physicians who probably should have chosen a different vocation. I know myself and I can be cranky. My bedside manner probably would have been crappy at best.

Mayo tries to provide a welcoming atmosphere. In the Gonda building there is a grand piano. Most of the time, there is someone sitting there playing a tune. Sometimes that person is accompanied by someone who sings. Tuesday, there was even a woman who brought her ukulele and sang. People pause and listen if they have time. I had plenty of time while K endured 4 hours of testing.

I'm not sure what outcome I want from this testing. On one hand, he's completely normal and just needs to focus more on spelling and reading. He may just need to "grow up" a bit. On the other hand, he's suffering from a learning disability or two. He's been struggling and I've been pushing him even though he simply can't do what I'm asking him.

Either scenario is less-than ideal. If there are no disabilities found we're left to flounder and fight over reading and spelling homework. If there are disabilities found we have to figure out new approaches to teaching and learning.

It makes my heart hurt for my beautiful boy. We will all soldier on to find the answers we need. And I'll hug and kiss him every step of the way.

Random Thoughts #56

1. I don't know if I've mentioned it, but pimples suck. I'm ::cough cough:: 29 and still get pimples all the time. One of my friends once told me that it's actually a good thing to have oily skin because I will look younger longer than someone with dry skin. I'm pretty sure that's because I'll look like I'm a teenager because I have a zillion zits.

2. This week will both be busy and not busy. K Man has his testing for a learning disability this week. That day, and the two days following until we get the results, will be emotionally exhausting. The kids have swimming lessons, bells practice, preschool. The Bigs are on break so we'll try to squeeze some fun in somewhere. I have 3 photo sessions on Saturday.

3. I'm trying to update files for my photography. It takes much more time than it should because I worry about everything being just right. I know I'm under-charging at this point, but I also need to build up a professional portfolio. I also don't want to price my services out of the range of most families. I don't think that people should not be able to have great photos of their families because they have limited income. It's a tight-rope walk right now.

4. I miss blogging. But I feel like I have little time to blog lately.

Dear Readers,

I assume there are at least a couple of you because I get feedback from you either in person or in emails or on Twitter...

I have the urge to apologize for not writing as much, but I won't. I'm BUSY. This week? Almost overwhelmingly busy. And it's good. I have photography sessions lining up. I have Girl Scout sessions to plan, preschool lesson plans to execute, homework to oversee and swimming, choir and bells practice that I must act as chauffeur for.

Following the photography sessions, I have usually an hour or two of editing of photos, not to mention the time uploading photos to Facebook and my photography website.

M and K have both told me that I'm never home. They exaggerate, of course. I'm still home more often than not though these last weeks (and this week we are in) are unusually taxing on my time. I still managed to read two chapters out loud to the Bigs (not last night, but the two prior nights) while laying in bed with them.

D was awake every hour to half-hour Sunday night until 6:15 when she finally let go of her supper all over the master bed. Craig had already left for work so I stripped the bed of the regurgitated hot dogs and comforted the confused 3-year-old. D was supposed to go to PAIIR school so I had to call and cancel that and also had to make sure M got to school early for safety patrol.

Have I mentioned this week is pretty much going to be the busiest week EVAH? My calendar has at least 4 things on each day (in addition to the normal crap we have to do).

One of the things this week is K Man's appointment regarding the ADD assessment. I know there is something going on with him but I'm still not convinced it's ADD. He sat perfectly for church on Sunday and for Craig's Aunt's funeral last weekend. I'm still thinking it's something like dyslexia that is causing the problems, but I'm trying to keep an open mind. If the knee-jerk reaction from the assessment is medication Craig and I will need some time to digest and think about that. It's not the first solution in my mind. I've also heard that giving a person with ADD caffeine can help. We tried this with K last weekend and he was even more wired than ever so this is NOT a solution for us.

My photography sessions have been running around one hour or a little more than one hour, which really isn't long, but when you think that in-studio mass-market places give you 15 minutes and charge almost as much for a session I think I offer more value and more room for individuality. All of my clients have been really happy with the results so far so I'm optimistic that things will move up hill from here.

I donated a photo session to help my cousin who is battling that STOOPID cancer asshat. She had a benefit in her honor last weekend but I was unable to attend because we had a funeral. I sent my gift certificate with my parents and was delighted to find that the session brought (written) face value, and according to my mom, it was one of the higher-priced silent auction items. It made me happy to know I helped my cousin even though I couldn't be at the benefit.

I still have 3 things listed on Craig's list. I wish they would sell because that would be supah awesome.

If I'm not too overwhelmed tonight after the super exciting PTA meeting I hope to get a Wordless Wednesday up for tomorrow. But don't hold your breath because I'm lazy even when I'm insanely busy.

Hugs,

Heather

I'm Still Thinking of Sticking Her in the Freezer

D starts preschool tomorrow.

It's the homeschool/co-op preschool that I'm doing with 4 other moms and I really am excited for us all, but at the same time I'm feeling a little weepy. Not the same type of ugly cry that I'm sure will happen when D heads to Kindergarten, but still not a pretty thing.

The first day I drove away from Miss M at preschool I blubbered the entire way home. Similar for her brother. I cried even when K Man went on his first field trip with his preschool class. The kids all climbed on the bus to ride away from us parents and I was forced back to my car early to hide the shuddering sobs from my son and the other parents.

K's first day of Kindergarten (M's first day of second grade) caught me off guard as BOTH of them were crying which really sent me over the edge. By the time I picked them up from school that day they were both all smiles.

So tomorrow begins the first steps of sending my youngest child out into the world without me. I've been in denial for months about this. Back in January one of the moms in D's ECFE class mentioned signing the kids up for preschool and I was totally shocked. Then I realized that, yes, it was time to start thinking about this.

But it's just not right! I'm pretty sure D was just born last year. Can't I go back and be weepy about her turning one?

I worry about D, as I worry for different reasons about all of my children. Is there such a person as a mother who doesn't worry about her children? I suppose there are those unfit persons who have somehow been blessed with children that others pine for.

D is very choosy with the people she will deem worthy enough to hear her words. If you have heard her talk, you are lucky indeed. At home, she chatters with abandon. In public, if you ask her to say "hi" she will hide behind my leg.

It's my hope that she will thrive with the small "class" size and begin to connect with the other moms and kids more than she did the last year at ECFE. She liked the kids (most of them) fine. She made connections with the kids. She remembers them (mostly), but she seemed to not care about her teachers. She didn't connect with them like my other two kids bonded to their teachers at ECFE. There will be more teachers this way...though really only one more...but I think the smaller group of kids will be beneficial.

My vision of her preschool days is splendid. I hope the reality matches.

Do You Have a Cluttered Home?

I have much work to do. My home is not stuffed like those on the Hoarders television show, but it is cluttered. My children have 568,982 toys scattered around the house. They also have 4528 pieced of clothing in each of their closets and dressers and those are just the ones that fit them. If you count the articles that no longer fit them that are still in their drawers and closets it's probably more like 5792.

No matter how often I clean off the dining table it becomes filled with the detritus of everyday life within days. My kitchen countertops, already filled with kitchen appliances and such over 80 % of the space, continually fills with other things on the one countertop that should be somewhat clear.

I buy more and more shelves, more and more boxes, thinking that more shelves will solve the problem, but the truth is I need to purge "things" that I don't use. But I worry that as soon as I get rid of something I'll need it. I can count on less than one hand the times that has happened with the stuff I have gotten rid of though.

I attach sentimental value to things, which is part of the issue that causes people to become hoarders. I remember who gave me things, who gave my kids things. I remember my kids wearing outfits, playing with toys. I remember my deceased grandparents owned certain things and I can't let them go.

When I do clean and organize it feels great. I love the results but things usually fall apart quickly. It doesn't help that my kids have the same tendencies.

How do you tame your clutter?