Archie meets...a chicken

Archie’s thoughts:

Met a new female in my territory today. One word. EXOTIC. Ex-AH-tic. Wow.

Never seen anything like her. She was in a pack of friends but she ran away from them to make sure she got my attention. Did she! My legs were going as fast as my heart to catch her.

I caught up with her and everything was going fine until Alpha grabbed my leash laughing and saying something about, “Embarrassment…..interesting hybrid” and “violating a chicken.”

I thought for a moment what our pups could have looked like. My great ears and tail, her long legs… amazing. Not her muzzle though; it was her only flaw.

But Alpha ruined all of that. I tried again, knowing it was my destiny to father her pups. She led me into her house, a nice little red two story. Alpha commanded me to come. My exotic beauty stayed upstairs as I obediently left her to return to Alpha. I think she was heart broken. What could I do?

I chased her friends. Who were just as exotic and just as beautiful. One pulled some awesome maneuver I’ve never seen before and leaped onto a branch. I’m a pretty good jumper for a dog my size, but she was just out of reach. I looked around and the rest were no where to be seen. Females can be funny like that sometimes.

The story of my life- so close, yet so far.

Alpha just doesn’t understand love. Or destiny.

Archie out.


Alpha’s thoughts:

Stupid dog, trying to mate with chickens. What an embarrassment! I can see it now- a chicken body running around with Archie’s head and wagging tail. smh...

A FLAMINGO?!?

Last night, while visiting his neighbor, I noticed Matt has a flamingo in his yard. I thought to myself, "The guy has a flamingo!?!" I thought you had to be retired to earn one of those. 'Happy retirement- here’s you’re flamingo!' Or buy a house in Florida. You get the keys to your new home and a plastic pink flamingo as a bonus to show you are a valued customer and to say congratulations on your new home.

It took less than a minute to decide I had to somehow punk the flamingo. It just had to be done.

So I changed said flamingo’s placing among other lawn ornaments, but it just wasn’t enough. That’s when Erin suggested that the flamingo should have a tie and name tag like missionaries* do, since Matt is our ward missionary leader and we are his minions ward missionaries.

I was giddy with the thought.

Fabric with an undersea theme was procured and made into a tie (thanks for your help Eric K!) along with a mini name tag made reading “Elder Mingo.” Aiden donated his Harry Potter glasses and we soon we had a pretty decent looking flamingo, if I do say so myself. Definitely an improvement, anyway.

Aiden suggested Mr. Mingo should have a top hat. Gears started turning and I found myself making a list of other necessities for Mr. Mingo, and in doing so I feel I have inadvertantly found my true vocation- flamingo fashion!

This morning I was walking Archie home after dropping Aiden off from school and little dog was wearing his raincoat. My mind flashed to the poor pink flamingo standing in the rain. A quick detour showed that yes, Mr. Mingo was sadly neglected out in the rain, so Archie very gladly lent his raincoat to Mr. Mingo for a while.

Amazing how quickly I have become so fond of an object that has previously been so scorned and mocked. Mocking the flamingo with fashion is actually quite enjoyable- so much more so than scorning it, I have found. Who knew? Since I do not live in Florida and therefore am not surrounded by plastic pink garden flamingos I have yet to decide if naked flamingos still arouse my scorn. I may have to walk through the neighboring trailer park to see. I fear however, that a naked lawn flamingo with still be met with scorn- or, possibly now, pity?- because it is the dressing of the flamingo and then laughing at the ridiculousness of it that is enjoyable. Kind of like putting my dog in a raincoat.


*Don't know what I mean with all my talk of missionaries? Check it out: http://www.mormon.org/missionaries

**This actually happened at least 18 months ago, or more. I just found it cleaning up some files on my laptop. Trust me, this is just the beginning!

Raw, Ugly, Vulnerable, Messy, Confusing, but All Too Real Thoughts on "Should I Apply?"

I've just spent the past hour or so exploring every part of an art museum's website, and I think I can handle the Administrative Assistant job they have posted. 

It is 35 hours a week. I'd be working all summer. That is almost full time- 12 hours more than I was just working at the my last job. And I'd be working all summer. Away from Aiden and leaving him with a sitter that whole time and my chest feels tighter and my breaths come short and quick just thinking about it.

It sounds easier than what I've done in the past as a Program Manager. It isn't artistic, it is behind the scenes office and facilities management stuff. All of which I have experience in. Maybe not as fun as being an artist...ok, not at all as much fun as being an artist...

And I panic about working almost full time all summer while Aiden is out of school. I am physically feeling the panic. Leaving him with sitters has always been really super tough on me. Really extremely super tough on me. Which makes me think that I can't do this. 35 hours is a long time. Admin hours are Monday- Friday 9am-5pm. What if I get an unpaid lunch hour? I'll be at work for 7 hours instead of 6 every day. And then commute time on top of that. What if I leave work at 5 and then don't get home until 6pm or later every day? That is going to be super stressful for me. Starting at 9 and working until 3 or 4...is almost what I was working at my last job. If I take up my friend on her offer to  babysit for me I'd have a free sitter, but also a much longer commute.

I'm not sure of the pay. 35 hours at minimum wage would make my gross income enough to mess with my social security disability.

And now my anxiety levels are telling my brain that it is time to shut down :(  And so I think, in a much smaller voice, I can't do this. I think I want to- I did want to, I kind of want to, but now I'm not so sure and I'm scared and I don't think I can do this and be a good mom and take care of my boys and keep myself healthy, too. I don't think I can do all of this :/  and these thoughts make me feel like I am a bad and lazy person who is just making excuses.

And now, instead of excited I feel sad, frustrated and confused. 

Which is not how the Spirit works, right?

I remember talking with my bishop years ago, trying to decide if I should keep my job as a Program Manager or leave. He told me I was great at my job-- it just conflicted with my being a single mother and didn't allow me to meet my children's needs, and it was ok to know I'm good at my job but it is better for my family that I leave it and look for something that would allow my family to be my priority.

I don't see how this job could be as stressful as that one was. But leaving Aiden for that long is an immeasurable stress on me :P

Pros- I'd be working at an art museum. I think I can easily handle the job requirements. Money, benefits.

Cons- 35+ hours a week is a long time to be away from Aiden, especially in the summer.

Pros- Working there anyway will force me out of my comfort zone and will be an opportunity for me (and the boys?) to grow.

Cons- I'm afraid that instead of growing I'll get overwhelmed, depressed and have a nervous break down. No- I'm terrified of it. I'm terrified of my depression swallowing me whole and not being the mom my boys need me to be. Is it possible to have PTSD about past bouts of depression? :P
Pros- Working there would be good for networking with art-y people. I think I'd get a discount on stuff in the gift shop.
Cons- I'd be constantly wanting to shop in the gift shop. And most likely I'd be bored with the museum's collection in about a month. I'm sure I've already seen most of the art there over a few dozen times already. And instead of artistic people I will be working with business people focusing on getting money to try to keep the business in the black. And I hate sales and anything related to it.

And my brain is telling me this is way too much drama in my head already and wasn't it already complaining of over stimulation and the need to shut down 10 minutes ago already?????

And another part of my brain says, "Shut up, suck it up, stop being a wuss and making such a big stinking deal out if it, get over it and get a job like everybody else has to, like it or not. It isn't a perfect world, you aren't any better than anyone else, so what, stop being a baby, quit crying, quit making excuses, pull your pants up and just get a job already!" Because it is all in my head, I just make a big deal out of nothing and their (certain family and friends) hard earned money goes out in taxes to lazy welfare people (I don't get welfare!) who need to just grow up, be responsible and get jobs. (Sometimes I really hate them and their posts on facebook.) 

THIS is why I hate discussing my work, or lack thereof, situation with anybody. It is just too much to explain. I'd rather poke myself in the eye and just walk away. So much easier. And I'd probably seem so much less crazy than if I actually tried to explain all of this to some random acquaintance. 

The simple, often asked question, "What type of work are you looking for?" makes my head want to explode. Why, I'd love to teach art from my home, but it just really isn't an option right now, so I'll settle for something that simply allows me to keep my sanity and out of an emotionally draining black hole if possible, thanks for asking. I'd love to go back to what I was doing when I left Utah four months ago, but New York isn't exactly Utah (go look on fb- their posts will remind you). And I really miss the job I left but loved so much there.

 

I wonder what the local vocational rehabilitation office could do to help me.

I need to finish filling out the paperwork I started and go down to the office.

Which is somewhere in my messy room. Paperwork. The dreaded  p a p e r w o r k. Which, actually, would fall under the Cons list for this job- I always hated doing anything related to payroll.

Just shoot me now.
Or feed me, the stress has made me hungry. And tired. I am past over-done. Good night :P


* FYI * I will not respond well to negative or rude comments on this. This is my blog- which right now is my place to vent and get the mess out of my head. Respect this as my space and post any negative reaction to it in your own rant on your own blog or fb page. 

 P.S.
Didn't I post something about soul-spewing once upon a time? Yeah, that is what this post is. It is Christmas day (or was when I started typing) and I've had too much junk food and not enough sleep over the past few days and I've been fighting a funk for about a week now. Because of the cross country move and all the joys of relocating my insurance won't kick in until the first of the new year, which is when I will meet my new doctor and get some help with my awful fibro pain and some other health issues. I can hold on for one more week!

I try hard to not be a negative person, to not say or write things that will hurt someone's feelings, but sometimes it gets me and tonight I just needed to get it out. This originally started as a hopeful email to a few friends about a job I thought I'd apply for. I started typing (4 1/2 hours ago) and ended up soul-spewing. Guess the job isn't a good fit for me after all. 

But I really do need to catch up on some sleep. And will begin again tomorrow.

P.P.S.
I think Tyler gets his drama queen and creative writing genes from me ;)

And I'm still hungry! 
 

Dear FACS Teacher

Dear FACS Teacher,

You might be able to tell by the comments on my son's homework that I really did not like the last homework assignment. Maybe it was because he had all weekend but waited until after bedtime on the night before it was due- a night when I was already "done"- overstimulated, overtired, just DONE.

And your assignment. Even on the best of days would have been the worst assignment, but as I've pointed out, this was not the best day or time.

My son is a great kid. He has good manners, he is helpful and respectful, smart, funny, he tries to make friends with kids who don't seem to have friends, he's a natural at karate and reads at an 8th grade level in 6th grade. He can cook, clean bathrooms, do laundry, babysit, wash the dog, sweep, mop, shovel snow, pile wood, take out the trash and all sorts of household chores. He turns 12 next week. He does more than a lot of his peers because he has a single mom who has a disability and sometimes she can't do the chores. Even when she can do chores he has to help because he's been raised that families do the chores together.

However, no one is perfect. This son in particular, though wonderful in many ways and in many things, is an idiot when it comes to doing dishes. And  vacuuming for some reason, but that wasn't part of the assignment.

Years have been spent trying to teach this child to do dishes. The best we've come up with so far is having older brother wash while he rinses, dries and puts away. Experience has proven that it is best if I remain out of the kitchen during the entire process.

I don't get upset when the dishes break. I buy them inexpensively at the thrift store and keep replacements in the cupboard above the fridge for that very reason. Maybe I am more anal   uptight  choosy than most about how my dishes are done. The simple fact is I want them CLEAN. When they look worse after washing them than they did before washing them I have a problem.I'm not talking about spots on dishes, though that does drive me crazy. I'm talking about fingerprints, lip prints, food particles, soap bubbles...

I do admit to being somewhat of a germaphobe. I don't eat food off the floor or the ground or walk on grass that has fertilizer or pesticides on it. My toothbrush is kept in the medicine cabinet so germs don't get on it when the toilet flushes. I have also worked in plenty of restaurants and tend to keep my kitchen the same way I would at work. Dishes washed in hot, soapy water, sometimes a bleach rinse, air dried whenever possible before putting away, bleach cutting boards,etc.  I also dislike most commercial cleaners like 409 and Lysol so I use vinegar, baking soda, and On Guard to disinfect, disinfect, disinfect the kitchen counters, sink, dishes, etc.especially if any type of raw meat has been used. Yes, I know. A germaphobe who is also "phobic" of most cleaning products. A paradox, I know. I'm living it.

You may easily judge me now as a control freak, but I'm really not. About most things I am pretty laid back. When the boys do dishes I only interfere when the dishes are still dirty after being washed. Which brings me back to the original point of my letter/post. Thing 2 can't seem to learn how to get dishes CLEAN. This is a sore spot in our relationship. He can't even load the dishwasher on his own after four months and many patient lessons on how to do so. Something about cleaning dirty dishes impairs brain functioning in this kid.

Tonight's homework assignment of doing dishes began, after bedtime I'd like to remind you, on an extremely busy kinda crazy day I'd like to remind you, by Thing 2 (aka Younger Child) grabbing a dish rag and hand soap. I had to stop him and redirect him to the dish soap. Which he grabbed and unscrewed the cap off. Was that really necessary? No. Neither was the inch worth of soap poured from the soap bottle (not an exaggeration! When I looked at the bottle after chasing him from the kitchen the level of soap was down by an inch!) because he didn't screw the cap back on tightly and it fell off while he was trying to squirt the soap out. Leading us to...

ARGUMENT #1! That went something like this:
Me: What are you doing???
T2: I'm sorry it was an accident.
Me: How can you unscrew the cap on accident? That wasn't an accident. An accident is something like 'oh, I slipped' NOT unscrewing the cap on the soap!
T2: Yes it was an accident, I didn't mean to pour so much or have the thing come off.
Me: Well the cap wouldn't have come off if you hadn't unscrewed it and not put it back on the right way, which wasn't an accident to begin with, it was just idiocy. You don't "accidently" unscrew something. You can't just say 'oh it was an accident' and be an idiot and make it ok.
T2: Frustrated and washing plate according to directions. Proceeds to rinse plate in cold water, also according to directions. Now I'm rinsing in cold water like the directions say to.
Me: Kind of annoyed at directions, especially since I've tried for years to teach child how to wash dishes. Wondering if dumb directions said anything about using dish soap instead of hand soap. Looking at dish as T2 dries. That isn't clean. It's greasy.

Begin ARGUMENT #2!
T2: No it isn't! How can you even tell!?
 Me: Right there! It looks greasy, it feels like it and right there is a soap bubble.
T2: No there isn't!
Me: Yes, there is. And do the directions tell you that leaving soap on dishes will give someone diarrhea?..
T2: Beginning to talk over me. What? Where? No! How do you even SEE that?!
Me: IT IS THERE. I SEE IT RIGHT THERE. Rinsing plate in cold, then hot water and being a jerk.Yes, cold water gets the suds off, but did the directions say rinsing in hot water helps the dishes to dry faster?
T2: Frustrated sigh. Reaches for the dish soap-
                                                                    Me: NO! What are you doing!? You already have way too much soap and that's the problem! You get an F+! No, an F-!

T2: Rewashes and dries plate.
Me: Mumbling incoherently about it not being an accident and waiting until the worst time to do this stupid homework assignment and wondering, "Where is my glass bottle?" (which shall be explained to those unknowing in a future post.)

Usually, in my own defense, I would not have been quite the monster-mom I was tonight. Usually I would not write in notes on the side of the homework paper that say things like, "I hated this. We argued!" Usually by bedtime I have at least changed out of my pajamas even if I didn't get a shower. What can I say? Some days just don't go according to plan.

After he went up to bed Julie listened to me rant and laughed at me, which was ok because it helped diffused the situation a bit. She's good like that.

Aiden came back downstairs looking for a pillow case. I tried to apologize, but I just made a mess of it. I told him it would be pretty obvious to the teacher that I had a bad attitude when I filled out his paper. I told him maybe we should photocopy the front and have Julie fill out the back for him; that would be a lot more fair to him.

Now in Thing 2's defense, he is really a great kid. He really was tired himself and had stayed home from school sick today. Friday night he spent the night at my ex-husband's for Thing 1's birthday and Saturday was a busy day of laser tag, birthday cake and then going directly to church to be the cow in the Christmas Nativity Pageant. Sunday is the Sabbath, so we don't do homework even if we aren't sick.

And most adults wouldn't have earned a much higher grade washing dishes if I were grading them. Honestly. Especially in the mood I was in earlier tonight.

My point is, Mrs. W (and all other dear readers), is that I do think he can handle washing dishes and making a cake in FACS class. I was just in BIG JERK MONSTER MOM mode when I filled out his homework paper, and I'm sorry. No one is perfect, and though I am a wonderful mother in many ways, something about grading my son doing dishes impairs brain functioning in me.

In my son's defense, he never has called me BIG JERK MONSTER MOM, even when I have been. See? I told you he was a good kid.

Just please don't ask me to grade him on washing dishes ever again.

Seasons

*I must have written this last year, or much earlier this year and for some reason didn't publish it until finding it as a draft today*

 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8   

I'd say right now I am not in the season of having a clean home. I am in the season of teaching boys to do chores and become responsible, preferably without whining or complaining if possible. Which also means I am in the days of broken dishes that slipped out of soapy gloved hands and explaining the difference between "kids' clean" and "Mom clean" and when each is acceptable, expected, or demanded.

I'm in the season of learning and reminders of manners, such as "help that lady," "hold the door,"  "don't interrupt," "use your napkin," and "please remember to lift the toilet seat."

This is the season of growing pains, growth spurts, hormonal outbursts (from both me and the boys), a teenager who takes forever in the bathroom and constantly buying new clothes and shoes. 

The season of loosing sneakers with no idea where they are for weeks (yes, plural- weeks) and stepping on legos barefoot even after being promised they were picked up. 

For getting a driver's license, a debit card and a summer job. Of stressing out over final exams, karate tests, and "someone told her I have a crush on her!" along with other pre-teen and teen embarrassments.

These days I find myself saying, "stop torturing the dog!" "Stop instigating!" "Don't jump over the back of the couch!" "Did you do your homework?" and learning that they say, "I love you," in not so many words any more but in many varied ways compared to a few short seasons ago.

Counting down from 100 and back again in funny voices when the youngest can't sleep. Texts, inside jokes and contests to see who can sing the fastest. Reading the scriptures, philosophical chats that last late into the night and cups of cocoa while looking at the stars and sitting wrapped in sleeping bags, no matter what time of year it is. Boys sharing whispered secrets way past bedtime and wrestling and making amateur claymation movies with my video camera and Play Dough by day.

These are the signs of my season with not-quite-so-young sons.

"I'm back! And look- here's a present for me!"

I am a sporadic blogger at best, but I did do a bit of writing tonight on my sparkpeople.com blog. I've copied what I wrote here. If you read an earlier post about cocooning, well yes, there I am again. Actually I feel more like a little turtle hiding in my shell. I stick my head out (not too far) and take a few slow steps, but I zip back into my shell (cocoon) pretty quickly if something comes at me too fast. 

Feel free to read other posts on my sparkpeople.com blog (as if you have nothing else to do, right?).

Please do not share anything on my blogs without my permission. Thanks.

~ Christine

PS- this post is my pep talk to myself, trying to put things in perspective. "fake it till you make it," right? i'm trying. i'll get there. maybe at a turtle's pace, but eventually i'll get there.

PPS- i just don't think fb is the place to be posting negative or very personal/sensitive things, so that is why i don't post thoughts and feelings you'll find on my blogs there. 

"I'm back! And look- here's a *present* for me!"

Monday, November 21, 2011

My blog title is a partial quote from a children's book: CHLOE & MAUDE, by Sandra Boynton (Boynton, Sandra. "Chloe, Maude, and Sophia." Chloe and Maude. First ed. Boston, MA: Little, Brown and Company, 1985. 26+. Print.). Please, allow me to explain:

Maude decides it's boring being plain old Maude and one day changes her name to "Sophia." Sophia dresses in fancy clothes, reads fancy magazines and refuses to do anything that Maude normally loved to do with her best friend, Chloe.

After days of being rejected by her best friend's alternate personality, Chloe takes matters into her own hands. She visits "Sophia" and leaves a package. A package, "For Maude. Not to be opened by anyone except Maude, even if your name used to be Maude but isn't anymore. (p.26)"

Here our dear reader finds Maude struggling; continue on as the glamorous and sophisticated "Sophia" or return to being plain, old, ordinary Maude?

Chloe's clever present proves to be temptation enough for Maude to conclude that it is time to leave her "Sophia" days behind her and go back to being Maude. Maude says, "I'm back! And look- here's a package for me! (p.29)" *the book says package, but present is just more me*

What is the relation between myself and drawings of dressed up kittens right now?

After being a divorced and a single mom for about 10 years I met a great guy. We dated for a year and were married.

Then it all fell apart. I won't even go into the all of the dramatic details, but a year's worth of marriage counseling didn't help.

I will say that in those 17 months we were married I gained 65 lbs, felt so deeply rejected and betrayed, angry, guilty, and spent periods in and out of deep depression, anxiety and worry. Trust and hope were destroyed and I learned things that were the emotional equivalent of what it would feel like physically for a pedestrian to be hit by a tanker truck. There was no way, no matter how hard I tried, for my marriage to recover.

I have been feeling like my life is a snow globe someone shook up and threw across the room with me trapped inside.

Difficult to see the relation to Sandra Boynton's cute little kitty friends, I'm sure, but allow me to continue in my explanation and hopefully you'll understand.

Although in my marriage I was not the person pretending to be someone I wasn't or looking for something fancier than what I already had or was, my depression turned me into a person very different from who I am when I am not depressed. My self esteem plummeted, I began failing my classes, I regained weight I had been so happy to lose as I ate to try to fill the aching holes left by lies.

I struggled for a long time to try to "fix" a marriage I hadn't broken. Finally, I accepted the fact that the healthiest choice for my sons and I would be to get a divorce, to rid our home of the tension, yelling and other ugliness that precedes such a decision. The best choice for us was to go back to the way things were before the marriage; to leave my "cheating, lying husband" days behind me and chose to move on and allow space and time for healing to take place.

Bouncing back from all of the negativity hasn't been quick or easy. I still feel overwhelmed a lot. I seem to be over-spending now rather than over-eating because I feel compelled to find a ring with my sons' birthstone to replace my wedding ring.

But I know I will bounce back. I am, just slowly. And as I'm rising out of the depression I am regaining hope and feeling like myself again. Like who I was before the nightmare began and my world fell apart. I'm walking away from it and in doing so I'm slowly beginning to regain my health, my strength, my identity as a beautiful, capable woman who can be loved and wanted.

(Ok, so I may not be feeling like myself a whole lot yet but I know I will more and more as the days go on.)

"I'm back! And here's a *present* for me!"

What is my present?

My health, my happiness, my son's health and happiness. I am seeing severe stomach problems that have plagued my son for more than five months start to fade away since my "almost" ex has moved out and hasn't been spending time with him. A peaceful home. Hope. Opportunity for something more, something better. A new chapter. A chapter in which I will continue to grow and change for the better emotionally, spiritually and physically. 

I just thought of another way I can relate to Maude. I have great friends- and sons!- who are supportive and there for me when I need them most. I also have my faith. Great gifts to have! 

Originally posted 11/21/11

Thank you for sharing your experiences. When you mentioned SparkPeople.com I was puzzled, because I knew you to be so slender. I receive a lot of support there. Keep climbing! You are doing great, and you are worth it.

November 21, 2011 7:47 PM 

Cocooning: Fragile, Please Do Not Handle

Sometimes, for whatever reason- I'm pms-ing, feeling a little depressed, anxious, overwhelmed, or overtired, it could be that I'm overdue for watching a good heavy thunderstorm with my boys, I need more sunshine, my feelings have been deeply hurt, whatever the reason- I just need to withdraw inward for a while and be left mostly alone.

Nothing needs to be wrong. Maybe it is my body's natural way of restoring balance. I go inward, sleep, drink alot, eat a little, I don't answer the phone unless it is immediate family, I don't make major decisions, I avoid anything loud or flashy, go slowly, hardly leave the house and avoid human contact as much as possible. Sometimes I read or write, but whatever I do it is at a turtle's pace and it is soothing.

I call this "cocooning".

Living in NYC back in '96 I had a roomate Samb. There were weekends when I had no idea she was in the apartment at all until she emerged from her bedroom looking refreshed with a chipper, "Allo, Kiko!" for me. Shocked at seeing her when I'd assumed she had been in the Hamptons all weekend I found out she was in her room fasting, meditating and resting the whole time.

Works for me.

Cocooning is a little different as a mom, but the boys have learned they can cuddle up in the big bed and eat cookies and read with me or take the time to catch up on watching some movies or playing outside. We interact but we do it somehow without disturbing my cocoon phase. Even Aiden is more quiet around me without my needing to explain.

Friends are a different story. I love them and I know they are well meaning. They love me and they worry. But few have yet to understand the cocooning process. I get phone calls and knocks on the door wanting to know if I'm ok or if I need anything. Meanwhile I hide in my bed until the knocking ceases and I can enjoy the silence again.

Travel agents don't want you to believe this, but it is possible to get some R&R free of charge in your own home. The world keeps turning without you if you go off the grid and don't put make up on for a few days. It doesn't take an expensive vacation or hotel rooms to bring a little balance and peace in to keep the chaos at bay.

Today I happened to take down the curtains for washing. I wanted to, I didn't have to. No where was it written on a list of things to do. No lists, no presssure when I'm cocooning. I'm quietly free floating around in my own little space. Maybe later I'll spread manure on the garden. Maybe I'll nap instead or paint.

I realize this may not be possible when you have multiple toddlers, although I did do it when my boys were young. I've never had four kids with three of them simultaneously in diapers though. To keep me going shorter, more frequent cocooning periods would be needed.

Cocooning is necessary for my health. I need it.

I suffer from dibilitating depression and anxiety. People have a difficult time believing I have a disability when physically I look fine and I'm intelligent. Some people tell me it's all in my head, a simple "mind over matter" type thing, or that I am just lazy or making excuses and need to "snap out of it". Regardless of what anyone else says, feels, or believes this is my life. My health. My disability. My reality. If I didn't take the time to cocoon I wouldn't be able to remain healthy when my disability reminds me that, although I'm generally healthy overall, I do have a medical condition that needs attention. Sometimes more attention, sometimes less, but that I need to stay sensitive to and aware of my body and my emotions to stay healthy.

This is why a regular full time job doesn't work for me. Every time I've tried I eventually get worn down to where I can't fully function anymore. As a student I have been given the  ability to take time off to ensure I stay healthy if I am communicating with professors and keeping my grades up. Self employment is my best choice for this reason. It seems like the healthiest choice for me. Education is even more important for me because I need to work part time in order to maintain my health so whatever I do needs to be lucrative.

Honestly, I think more people need to have more of this awareness for themselves. People need to slow down more and experience life instead of just charging through it. We could all benefit from cocooning every now and then.

Originally posted 2/16/11

Deb in UT said...

You are so good with words. I love the image of cocooning because it implies you won't stay there forever-- that you trust and are hopeful about the future. It implies that when you come out, you will be even more beautiful and capable-- perhaps even of flight. I have also dealt with that particular type of invisible disability. It is difficult for others to understand. You seem to have a very positive, self-loving way of dealing with the reality it. What a blessing it is that your boys understand and respect that reality. Thank you for sharing!

February 17, 2011 4:00 PM