Venting. Don't worry!

My mom is the only person who reads my blog, and this post will just make her worry.  But, don't worry, mother.  I am getting it on paper and telling the entire world, which is a positive step.
Had a massage for the first time in about 7 years (Jeff's then baby is now 7).  1)  I think he is an incarnation of Buddha.  Jeff Johnson, awesome RMT.  The most patient and peaceful person on the earth I have met.  2)  Every time I think about that massage, I cry.  And not because it was one of those sports massages that hurt.  It was pretty fucking amazingly cathartic.  It seems my body has been holding on to all this crap that has made my fucking hand go numb.  OK, the crap is sadness AND anger.  I don't like to be angry, and I don't like to admit I am angry, but I am angry.  Anger can be positive when it leads to necessary change.  Not that the situation I am in is as important or necessary as the American Civil Rights movement of the 1960's, but I always think of that time period as a positive use of anger.  If all the black people and some of the white people in the US had not been angry about disgusting and abhorrent injustices, nothing would have changed.  I am only the target of apathy that has for the past 4 years turned into antipathy.  Unfortunately, at a time I needed the very most love and patience.  Brad was exceptional during the childbirth of both kids.  I think I have been thinking surely if I met antipathy with humor, patience, optimism, that it would change on its own.  It and people do not change on their own unless it/they have to.  I digress.
Jeff was very sweet and allowed me to sob, and said I could take as long as I needed to, but I think I could have stayed there at least another hour in full-out sobbing, and I felt bad about taking up his time sobbing.  He gave me some directions about breathing that were extremely powerful.  When I sat up, after he left the room, I opened my eyes and saw this giant lion head sculpture he has on the wall.  That was weird is all I could think of.  I asked him how he did that, and he said I did it.  Hm.  That was very generous.  He said he imagined I had a tiger inside me waiting to come out.  I think I do.  A pretty fucking pissed off tiger.  One that has been put to sleep for a long time, but has decided to come out sideways, making my body extremely uncomfortable.
People should be nice to each other.  People should be nice to me.  People should be nice.  That is reasonable, right?  I have to ask this.  I am a nice person.  I constantly try to be better.  Be more patient, be more accepting, be more peaceful, calm, loving.  I think I've made progress.  I think I am a good mom.  I constantly try to care for the children as much as I can so that Brad can do what he wants to do.  Hank and Charlie are the best things that ever happened to me or Brad by 10,000 infinity.  I have no idea what it is that Brad thinks I should be doing differently.  I agree, it sucks for dads that moms get to breastfeed and that small children primary need their mom around, and do better in life if their mom is physically and emotionally available in early childhood.  When dad becomes the most important person in their lives, I know I will find it challenging.  I don't think I will blame Brad or take out my sadness and loss on him.  I don't know.  Maybe I will.  I have asked Brad what he would like for me to do instead of what I am doing, and I get a look that says I should know, but he is angry I don't know, and no words.  I think have been a good wife.  I think I have been a lousy wife at times.  I don't know how long I should be held in contempt for my mistakes.  How long is a reasonable amount of time?
I don't believe that two people who dug themselves into an enormous hole with tiny and broken spoons can dig themselves out without using someone else's heavy machinery.  A backhoe with an excavator and possibly a front-end wheel loader.  Definitely a crane and possibly a steel slab hauler.  I am afraid of starting up the heavy machinery because it is going to get LOUD.  I am afraid of how loud I will get and how loud he will get.  I suppose it's somewhat easier to deal with looks that say "go to hell,"  without hearing someone actually tell you to go there.   I DO NOT want to enter the martyr competition. I've played that game before, not since I have known Brad.  It is very unpleasant to play and also unpleasant to win.  Usually, people don't admit they are playing against you.  And if it seems like you are winning, they are always up for more self-torture.  So, no one wins, and everyone is miserable.  No, thanks.  I have plenty of misery (in my 99% awesome life) without manufacturing it for myself and competing for who can be the most miserable.  I think I may have learned that before I turned 30.  Along with just because a guy has sex with you or wants to have sex with you, it does not mean you are going to be boyfriend/girlfriend, or even ever speak again after making out, exchanging longing looks, or actually having sex.  I can proudly say I learned that one even before I turned 25.  Wow.
Now, I am 40, and I expect my children to learn how to be nice and navigate complex, human relationships.  Hm.  I think I need to figure it out before they are smarter than I am.  I have a few months at least because Hank told me the multiplication tables are where you eat lunch.  That was right after he told me he did not need to go to school anymore because he knew everything.  I am 40, and I now know, that is absolutely not true for me.  I know almost nothing about navigating complex human relationships.  I do not know how I am supposed to do it differently, but I do know that other people know how, I can learn how, and there is always room for progress, not perfection.  I know I must do it differently, if only to appease this weepy tiger.  And I should probably go to al anon in my spare time.  [Not because Brad has alcoholism, but because I suffer from thinking I can change things I cannot change].

I am teaching a how to be a personal trainer class and learning so much from the instructor of the lab portion of the class.  I think he is the best personal trainer I have ever met.  Equal to Dixie Stanforth.  Tony Thomas.  www.kilterfitness.com.  And I will gladly give Jeff's contact info to inquirers, but I don't want him to get spammed from posting his email address on the internets.

To bed.  I am subbing the classes at the J in the morning.  Hank and I bought a Betta fish today.  He did not have a suggestion for a name, so I suggested Gepetto and call him, "Pet."  Then we read Pinnochio, the Meredith-edited version.  Smoking, kids getting turned into donkeys, Pinocchio sacrifices his life for his dad.  Geez, I didn't remember all those heavy plot twists.  I think I do remember Pinocchio blowing smoke into Jiminy Cricket's face, but I didn't remember most of the other details.  Jiminy Cricket is Pinocchio's conscience.  That's pretty heavy.  And Pinocchio gets into trouble initially by skipping school to seek pleasurable activities.  Holy smoke.  Literally!  I love the song Giupetto by Vic Chesnutt.  I saw him at the Cactus Café with Brian Henry in 1994.  It was an amazing concert.  So quiet except for VC's voice and guitar.  And, I'll tell you a funny story about it another day.

Hard time

Feeling like Gelsey Kirkland and having a hard time. Only trying to please one person who doesn't seem to be able to be pleased. Focus on the abundant blessings and remember what other people think about you is none of your business. Even if it were my business, it is something I cannot change and cannot control. OK

Anorexic food inspector

I don't believe in exercise in the same way I used to. I'm still going to do it, 1 day at a time, but only because I'm willing I believe. I see people lose weight and get in shape, and I see those who never seem I make any physical changes, yet every time I see them at the gym, they are working hard and sweating. Either my client don't tell me the whole story regarding their food and exercise regimes, or some people just don't ever really change shape. I want to be somewhere between working for improved fitness and self acceptance and gratitude and this moment, now.

Newest Dependence

Crafts 
Crochet
Etsy 
 

Have a cold. Nose is draining.

Hello, world. Blogger for iPhone=mega drivel for internets. Feel like crap. At least it's not a sinus infection. Could be flu, as I've had fever, chills, aches. So sad. I don't think anything short of a missing limb would illicit acknowledgment, let alone sympathy, from BH. At least I still have Nana I at, poor Meredith. Kids are playing in a box. Cheap entertainment.

I am breathing through two nostrils right now

Had my sinus surgery last Wednesday - septoplasty and turbinates trimmed. So much less unpleasant than tonsilectomy. Went back to the doc today because I was in pain, and it seemed like my nose was getting bigger. (It wasn't supposed to change size on the outside). We had to wait forEVER, but HH was SUPER patient and did not freak out when Dr Eskew stuck this needle suction thing up my nose, which felt pretty gross, sounded gross, but has allowed me to breath in through two nostrils. At the same time! And we got home at exactly the right time for trick or treating. Whew! I go back Friday for more suction, then I go back next Monday for hopefully the final suction and the removal of this plastic thing that is holding my septum in place, I think. I am not supposed to blow my nose, but can sniff and saline and hydrogen peroxide with q-tips. I am also not supposed to do anything strenuous. Maybe I don't do anything strenuous anymore, but it seems like most things I do are strenuous. I HIGHLY recommend Dr. James Eskew otolaryngologist, and he is going to get a stellar review from moi on Yelp. You are welcome, Dr. E. I am obsessed with sewing. But, I can't seem to do it often enough that I don't have to mentally reinvent the wheel each time I sew stuff. But, it's fun. Doesn't take that long per step, and I feel the joy of creativity. Visit my Etsy shop. Of course, I had intended to sell these things, but have just given them away. I want to give them away, but I see the frown on Brad's face when I say these things are flying off the shelves. I've probably spent about $100 on fabric, needles, and zippers. I WILL make the $100 back. Just wait. I will get Ellen to like them, and we will have to set up a sweatshop in Hank's room just to keep our inventory stocked. CH is almost 1 year old. I cannot believe it. I want 2 more babies. If I get one more I will be happy. I am so happy I have 2. I want as many as we can make in the next 5 years. I don't want to play genetic roulette. I'm not crazy!

Sinus surgery

Worrying about the aftermath of my upcoming sinus surgery on Oct 26. I hear there will be blood coming out of my nose for 24 hours, and it will be packed. Apparently, it is not as painful as a tonsilectomy at age 30, but I am afraid I will feel claustrophobic. I would like to simply be fed soup and sedated the 48 hours after surgery if anyone knows a fairly reputable drug dealer in case my surgeon will not leave me in comfort. Granted, I have a high tolerance for most medications. But, I had 2 huge holes in my throat following the tonsilectomy, and vicodin was not even taking the edge off. I was MISERABLE for 2 weeks and then just crappy for another week. I asked for more or different pain meds, and the said no. I want to get something in writing or at least a verbal agreement that i would not like to suffer. Is that so much to ask? I'm not asking for a Keith Richards-style morphine drip. Just use some modern technology to keep me comfortable while I heal. And I hope this will end the 10 years of chronic sinus infections that have progressively gotten worse. I don't ever get tonsilitis, anymore. That's great news. I was pretty sure it was lung cancer or brain tumor until I got my imaging results back this week. Nothing bad in the lungs, just bronchitis and only the symptoms of chronic sinusitis inflaming those passages.

Why am I awake and typing? L'Shanah Tovah a mes amis Juifs!

There is never enough time to do anything in life, is there? There is time to do what we absolutely have to do, go to the bathroom, eat, drink, work. There must be exactly enough time to do exactly what we should be doing or time wouldn't be the way it is. When I find myself wanting to get HH or CH settled into an activity so I can go do something, I remember it is stupid. Then, I have to talk myself down off the ledge that I placed myself on, "stupid." Then, I remember, this is the ONLY thing in life to spend time on. BEing with each other as much as possible. It doesn't matter if the to do list isn't done. It's not a moral failure to have a long list left, it's a moral victory. We've avoided making this home improvement since Hank was born, just enjoying his wonderful little 3 year-old self. I sometimes feel too overwhelmed and sad about how extremely ephemeral it is. But, I know that misses the point, too. {Not going to walk down the "stupid" road, again). Enjoy in this moment the moment that has been freely given to me and my family. It is delightful to be around Hank and Charlie. Even when they challenge my patience or I am very tired. It's never not a joy. Of course I want more kids. The baby stage is challenging, but it's so short over one's lifespan. Once you get to enjoy every moment of babyhood with intense adoration and attention, a few years, and it's over. They never need you like that, again. They don't, and they shouldn't. Embracing the present and embracing the coming changes without panicking about them. Simple, but not easy. To enjoy Brad with delight like I enjoy the kids. That is a challenge. I am sure equally true for him. Strange how much the person you made the kids with becomes a complete enigma and powerful need to receive affection from. I thought it would be more casual. Like, you do your thing, I'll do mine, and we'll meet every once in a while. Ours does do his/her own thing, but not knowing what the other one thinks the first one should be doing. I do have opinions about what I think Brad should be doing, but I try to ignore them and keep them to myself. But, I always yearn to have the "yeah, you get me, and I get you" connections that we had tons of before marriage and here and there in the past 9 years. I want to model our excellent communication skills for the kids, but also so that we can enjoy each other in a way I think is possible for families.

Coaches Can Play Big Role in How Kids Feel About Sports: MedlinePlus

Coaches Can Play Big Role in How Kids Feel About Sports: MedlinePlus

NO DOI!!!

Do you know the metabolic rate of breast tissue?

I don't like it when people say, "I ate_____, and it made the baby gassy." 1) Babies are gassy. 2) Is that the only food you have eaten for the past week? How long does it take from the time you ate it to get made into breast milk? 3) Why don't cows ever get blamed? Hey, lay off the St. Augustine, Elsie, I'm stinking up my cubicle! 4) What am I supposed to eat? I don't think there are any foods that don't make me gassy. What about me? I'm gassy, too. No one cares. 5) It's not like I'm drinking whiskey or taking carbon dioxide colonics. I eat a balanced diet (except for ad libitum mini-heath bars, which are currently a little out of control) that contains complex carbohydrate starches, fruits, vegetables, legumes, a little dairy, no meat, water, some iced tea, a little coffee. And, by the way, my unscientific determination about coffee is it has NO effect on his sleeping or gas or not sleeping, because whether I drink it or not, he does not have a clockwork schedule, and I don't drink coffee everyday or even at the same time on days I do drink it. Yes, I take credit for his adorableness, his preferring to tummy-sleep, his eyes, his hair, his wit, his intelligence, his moodiness, his biceps, his perpetual optimism, but I will not take responsibility for his gas. That digestive system has been passed down through many generations, from what I can tell through my dad's dad's mom, as far back as whopper candies and Dr. Pepper, maybe farther.

Trying Evernote: Click [Current Affirmation]

Also, took HH swimming at J pool. Got him to close his lips a few times to not inhale water. He floated in his floaty vest by himself for the first time today. Several times, too. He said, mom, don't hold me! And he closed his eyes and spun around, completely vertical in the water, smiling, sometimes with his lips open, and sometimes closed. He inhaled a few sips of water, but that didn't stop him from doing it, again. He also even wore his goggles, some. What miracles today.
I was wanted someone in particular to tell me good job, but I realize, again, that it is completely irrelevant to my happiness what anyone else thinks of me. It is harmful to a family to have resentments lingering and lingering, but in the long run, the best one can do, is the best one can do, and that's the best anyone ever does, at best.
I have an f-ing sinus infection which is probably a little of the reason I feel discouraged. Only an alcoholic can look at a something beautiful and see the tiny smudge on the back of it. All you need is love.

Brent wood and pretending to work

HH was collecting bark out of the pea gravel in Brentwood Park this morning and calling it, "brent wood."  Makes sense to me.  Why else would the park be named Brentwood?  It's funny he likes to pretend to work.  I remember doing the same thing.  As if to say you aren't the only one who is too busy to play.  I also whispered to myself while I was playing like he does.  I know they are cute to no one else, but his speech impediments (which are developmentally normal, but impediments by adult standards) kill me.  The way he talks like Elmer Fudd.  He calls Sir Topham Hat, "Toppin hat."  In the cars movie, a truck says to "Lightening A'queen," I'm  not a Mack I'm a Peter Built.  Turn on your lights, you moron."  When Hank quotes it, he says, "I'm not a Mack, I'm a Federbuilt.  Turn on your back and foron."

Batuka Break

Sisyphus: The Villain of Household Chores

I never knew Sisyphus was such a creep.  I think about that rock a lot, though.  And, I'm not complaining.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  But, laundry and cleaning the house often feel pointless.  Arlene said she prayed for each son while she was folding his clothes.  I like that.  Rather than cursing whoever got the floor dirty within 30 seconds of it being clean.  I guess I am afraid (and it's no one I know, just some imagined cleaning police) is going to say my house or my House is dirty.  Yet, I know my house and House are clean.  Well, at least clean enough.  : )   I can think of any Dirt that remains to be cleaned.  Although there are Dirty Projects, I suppose.  My side of the Street is as clean as I can get it by myself.  No one has ever been harmed by dirt.  It is evident that our combined Dirt does need to be thoroughly spring cleaned.  In ways, it's one huge rock, but maybe instead of the pushing it uphill metaphor, our Rock is more like creating the statue of David.  Not done in a day, takes a lot of time, care, and planning, and is worth doing. 

Not so much a communcation breakdown...

but a communication never existed.  It takes a lot of practice to learn a new skill, and although the status quo is often painful, change doesn't happen without some pain, too.  Before, during, and after.  At least I think it's true about the after.  Mars/Venus problems are real and noticeable, but learned family styles that originated who knows when are also very powerful.  Maybe after the Civil War?  I think my people came over just before the Civil War.  Not sure about Brad's people's immigration.  For the record, there is no such thing as mind-reading.  I am fast forgetter and a slow learner.  My intentions are 100% benevolent.  Sometimes, I get caught up in impulsiveness and selfishness, but I have made a LOT of progress.  And I can always recognize it in hindsite, and sometimes recognize it while I am doing it.  I am 100% committed to change and movement towards adaptivity, and not perfection.  We are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO blessed by our children, and I want to have one more baby.  That would really turn us into a herd.  One day at a time.  One hour at a time.  One uncomfortable change at a time.  Always look on the bright side of life!
Eric Idle is beyond brilliant in this segment - his delivery, so silly cockney drawl.  I love it!

Puppies Behind Bars (PBB)

About PBB:

Millions of innocent puppies are imprisoned each year for crimes they didn’t commit.  Puppies Behind Bars (PBB) offers free legal council to wrongly accused puppies.  Not really.

  PBB trains prison inmates to raise service dogs for the disabled, including PTSD-suffering veterans, and explosive detection canines for law enforcement. The puppies live in prison with their "puppy raisers" from age eight weeks to 18 months. As the puppies mature into well-loved, well-behaved dogs, their raisers learn what it means to contribute to society rather than take from it.

If they are deemed suitable, PBB returns the dogs to the schools where they continue their formal training.  If they do not continue on the track to become working dogs, PBB donates them to families with blind children. In either case, these puppies, raised in such a unique environment, spend their lives as companions to people who need them.

The puppies have affected the lives not only of their puppy raisers, but of virtually all the inmates and staff at the prison. It is literally impossible to walk a puppy around without being stopped by inmates who want to pet the dogs or who want to just say 'hi' to them, and [the founder is] constantly being approached by corrections officers and senior staff who ask about the puppies' training. One of our particularly sensitive pups goes to several different areas of the prison: the sixteen- and seventeen-year-old inmates play with her; domestic violence classes use her to get the women to open up and talk; and she even visits inmates who are about to go before the parole board, for it has been found that her presence has a calming effect on the women.

PBB pays 100% of all costs associated with raising puppies in prison, including dog supplies, educational supplies for the puppy raisers, teachers' salaries, and travel.

I am going to give them some money in honor of my 39th birthday and hoped you would join me!

I have a dream

I have a dream that someday diet soda, tobacco products, and alcohol will be classified as schedule I drugs, and marijuana, peyote, psilocybin, exercise, and meditation will be schedule V "highs."  HEB has a cane sugar sweetened soda I plan to opt for next time I have a craving.  Artificial sweeteners and high fructose corn syrup have similar effects on blood glucose.  Love my bubble water

!!!
Read about the origin of seltzer.  I have German ancestry!

Monk

 I've been playing Monk episodes on instant Netflix for the past few weeks.  I also noticed the entire series is out on DVD.  Love the Monk! 

If I were a celebrity, I would endorse products I liked and used.  I am 39 years old and still get pimples.  I tried proactiv, and MD Formulations.  Now, I just use neutrogena anti-bacterial facial wash or something like that.  But, when I do get pimples, this is my favorite product.  It's a powder concealer/healer.  It doesn't look stupid and it seems to actually help get rid of pimples.  It has 3% sulfur, so it kind of smells, but just when you first apply it.  I've never tried their other products, but the RareMinerals concealer is awesome.

Feeling loved

Thank you for all the happy birthday wishes. I am feeling loved. Facebook has facilitated people remembering birthdays all over the world, and it is pretty awesome. I used to pride myself on remembering birthdays, but I don't think it's bad NOT to remember them. I have also forgotten some important ones and important dates over the years, and it doesn't diminish affection I have for the person. Now that I have kids, I know how my mom must feel on my birthday. What joy to have a new, healthy, tiny little baby. But, now the baby is 39 and sometimes ornery. The baby pictures are good reminders of the sweet and unadulterated feelings. But, I guess despite years of wrinkle-causing life, there is always unconditional love. And it's mutual.

Going to wear my Latin dancing shoes around the house all day today. Going to make a cake with Hank after we get home from the J playground after school. Bought him a bucket of sand/pea gravel toys to play with while we are out and about. Charlie did well in the sleepywrap on Friday when we went to the J playground. I am also going to organize my hair and toothcare drawer, and if I have some spare time, I am going to do 6 of my fingernails. I have a client at 10 am at the house. She is a very sweet lady.

Hank, Brad, and Charlie are still asleep. Surprising. Hank had a chocolate milk/yellow cup crisis about 4 am. I got the chocolate milk, and Brad was trying to calm the beast. He finally calmed down and fell asleep after I insisted Brad was tired and Brad held him. My analysis was Hank wanted to be held, but can't put together milk and comfort, so he yells for yellow cup/chocolate milk. We have been validating his want verbally, but not indulging the cup change. Eventually, he calms down. I remember feeling frustrated and misunderstood at points in early childhood. I hope he is feeling somewhat understood. It's seems to be hard to find a balance between acknowledging what is important to him in the moment and not creating undesirable habits or making life more challenging for ourselves. Progress, not perfection!