Into The Thick of It

Stripes, piercings and who we are

Some of you know me, have known me, for a long time.  In a brief summary, I had a horrible breakdown in 2008, lost most of what I had identified myself as being, except for my child, and really just sort of sucked for a long time.  Therapy came into the picture - and quite literally saved my life. Had Nancy not had confidence in me, and encouraged me to face things straight on, I would definitely not still be on this earth.  

One of the things that happened long before the breakdown in 2008 was a fascination with getting my nose pierced.  I didn't do it, because I was on staff at a church, and on the platform every morning, and I knew it wouldn't fly.  I kept talking to those close to me about it, but kept being encouraged to just let it go.  In the fall of 2009 I really started thinking about it again.  I even talked to my therapist, Nancy, about it.  I wasn't insane, I wasn't searching for anything to prove, I wasn't rebelling; it was something that I had wanted for a long time - a way to express who I was deep down inside.  It wasn't going to hurt anyone - it's not permanent, I could take it out at any time.  (I had debated a little bit about the tattoo thing, but honestly?  I'm a HUGE sissy.  One poke with a needle or hours with a needle?  Easy decision - and again, I loved the nose ring thing.) In therapy, I was just getting to the point of learning how to say "I want" something.  Even simple things like "I want to eat this for breakfast" and "I want to listen to this song now" - those little steps were HUGE steps for me.  So when I broached the subject with Nancy, she encouraged me to search for a reputable place and go for it.

September 8th, I made an appointment to go get my nose pierced.  I knew the wife of the man who owned the parlor; she was wonderful, and so was he, when I finally got there.  I got lost (if you know me at all, you know that this is nothing surprising), and I had a slight manic panic phase on the way there, but I got there, and went to sit in the chair that is deceptivly like a dentist's chair.  I also had my ear cuff repierced while I was there, and he did that first.  It hurt like a booger, but I knew it would.  I was talking to his wife, who was standing in the room with us, when he pierced my nose, and I can honestly say, I did not feel a thing.  I walked out of there so proud of myself, and so thrilled with my nose piercing (even if it was a little red the first few days).

I know that it's just a piece of jewelry.  And I get that it's a little controversial, especially in conservative circles.  However, I didn't do it to get attention or to be controversial; it's a teeny tiny diamond stud.  A lot of people know me, see me, and don't even realize I have it pierced.  But for me, it was a huge step in doing something that I had WANTED to do for so long, but the only reason for not doing it was not rocking the boat.  Turns out that when I finally did it, the boat didn't rock that much anyway.  It's a decision I have never once regretted.

I have an 8.5 year old daughter.  She is so bright, like scary smart at times.  She's funny, and beautiful, and talented.  I think she's fabulous.  Recently, however, she's been having a craptastic time.  A lot of this has been brought on by her own decisions.  She's been disrespectful, distracted, and sort of a know-it-all.  It came to a big head this week, when teacher and mom contacted each other and conferred and realized that the same things were going on both places.  After several long talks with my kid, the realization struck me that she does not feel smart. Or funny. She feels ugly.  And stupid.  And like she is the least liked person in the world.  She's insecure and panicky and she's lashing out in frustration and anger because she is afraid.  Some of that lays on my head.  Some of that lays in her past.  Some of it lays on her own decision making.  But all of it - ALL of it - I could relate to.

Back when Melanie was 5 years old, she started asking if she could have a few pink stripes in her hair.  When she was 5, I kept saying no because of the proverbial boat.  I didn't want to rock it, and I didn't want to hear the crap about it.  I shut her out and down about it.  She kept asking, though.  Not in a nagging way - but just occasionally in a, "wow, someday I'd really like to have some pink stripes in my hair" kind of way.  Eventually we got to the place where I was feeling more bold (I had my nose pierced) and I said we could do it.  Due to circumstances I'd rather not get into, we were sort of shut down again.  We've had that hair dye sitting in the closet for a long time now.

Well yesterday, she and I were talking (after the whole big mess with the school and everything went down) and we were both really kind if spilling it out there.  She told me how afraid she was at school - not like physically afraid, but just that she wouldn't be good enough, and that she felt this pressure to be like everyone else - to do things just the way everyone else does, and to be 'the good reader' because that's what she's been labeled as, and to panic when she didn't get it right the first time, because she didn't want the attention on her.  We talked about some ways to do better with things like that, i.e., listen to the instructions all the way through before she started on her work, and asking the teacher a question, even if it's in private, if she needs help.  To take her time to double check her work before she turns it in.  To not boast or brag or make fun of others who are struggling (the same way that she struggles).  It was a good talk.

Then she says to me, "I wish I could have the pink stripe in my hair, mom. Not because I want people to look at it or not look at it or anything like that, but just because *I* will know it's there. Even if it's not bright pink, or if it washes out in a few weeks, I will know I had the pink stripe.  That pink stripe will be a brave stripe for me."

I have a nosering that's brave for me.  It's a symbolic thing of a huge step in my life. 

It's just freakin' hair. It will grow out and wash out and be back to how it was 3 hours ago in a matter of weeks, or we'll do it again if she wants. 

She sat thru the entire process.  She looks grown up.  She was OVERJOYED at the pink stripes.  Like - tears of joy.  She didn't say "I can't wait to show the kids at school!" or "I hope grandma and grandpa like it" or "I wonder what ______ will say?" (Boy's name omitted to protect the innocent).  She said "I have my brave stripe!! I LOVE this!!"

This is going to be another one of those days that I do not regret it one bit.  I might even go polish up my nosering a little bit. 

(Pictures upcoming when we get better light.) 

Knitting and other deep thoughts

I've been doing a good share of knitting as of late. Even though my right eye still has that infernal twitch, it does seem to be relaxing me. Melanie has the casting on and the basic knit stitch down, and is currently working on a blanket for one of her stuffed animals. I have to be honest and say she did tell me which one, but as she has close to a hundred if them, and knows them all by heart (along with their personalities), I have a hard time keeping up with who's who!

It used to bug me that she always went for stuffed animals. They do tend to spread out hither and yon. It has slowly become more evident, however, that these things really are her friends and family. She has no siblings; she does not have any imaginary friends, except that is not totally true. THESE are her imaginary friends. They are no skin off of my nose, and she still gets hours of enjoyment from them each day. Who am I to scoff at that? Sooner than I want, she'll be talking or texting her "real" friends, talking about boys or makeup or other too grown up things. May the stuffed animals, and their knitted blankets, live long and continue to prosper her imagination!

Lots of other thoughts bubbling and brewing lately too. Perhaps I'll let them simmer a little longer. The realization about my awesome kid and her herd of pals was ready and worthy though.

Don't grow up too fast, little girl!

What happened to my bed?!

Mel hasn't been feeling great the last few days; she has a tooth coming in, and it has been affecting her ear and balance and she sometimes feels really nauseated and like she is going to pass out.  This is no fun to watch, and I'm sure in her case, no fun to experience.  So last night, she went to sleep in my bed, because she was just feeling icky.  

I didn't understand the full consequences of this decision. 

Observe Illustration.

1. This is the halfway point (approximately) of my full sized bed.

2. This is the amount of space that was actually split.  See how little my share of the space is? And see how I am sharing it with a 12 and a 9 pound cat with me? I'm just getting started, people.

3. This is my adorable, 48-pound daughter's pillow.  Her head should be in the middle of it, in my opinion, and the rest of her should be aligned properly below said middle. 

4. This is my pillow.  What you cannot see in the wonderful artwork (*sense sarcasm*) is that I normally sleep with two pillows.  That red pillow?  It's mine.  My kid stole it.

5.  That is Taz.  He's about 12 or 13 pounds, I'd say. And he stretches out, and lays half upside down so that his chin is in the air.  His front paws were actually stretched up across my arm that was tucked in under my head, and his back paws were pushed into my lower stomach.  He was purring, so he must have been comfortable.  

6.  That is Zaz. (Zazzles.) She is about 8 or 9 pounds, and with kitten.  She is laying on top of my thigh, and her head is flat down, chin on me, belly on me - and her legs are hanging over the sides of my legs - like a smooshed fly.  It was like she just gave out, and her legs dangled in the air.  I was impressed by her balance, truthfully.  However, this meant that I could not move my legs.

7. This is my child's elbow.  It is in the back of my head.  And she doesn't sleep peacefully, so she oftentimes jerks and moans, and sometimes that elbow hits me between the shoulder blades, or sometimes she just jabs me with it out of nowhere.  Elbows are deadly.

8.  This is my child's size 12 foot.  It is planted firmly up my buttocks.  (Refer to #7 for reference to jerks.)

9. This is the unused portion of the bed.  There could be human feet there.  Or cats.  Instead, what you can't see, is that ALL of the blankets are there.  They have been taken away and tossed by the girl child.

10.  These are my feet.  They are completely asleep, because I can't move my legs.

This is how I spent approximately 6 hours.  I wasn't asleep, note you.  I just laid there, if that is what you can call it.  

*Sigh*

Life with Melanie is NEVER boring!

Showing my age

I guess I'm not showing it in the typical ways.  I mean, I have a few grey hairs, but thankfully my haircolor (the dirty blond/light brown thing) makes it look like highlights (or so I continue to convince myself).  I don't have any creaky body parts, although I have what I have affectionatly deemed my "Grandma Knee" (the right one), as it sometimes likes to just....freeze.  Or give out.   I'm not too rinkly or saggy yet, and I'm taking care of my skin. 

But here is what is showing my age.

1. My eye will NOT stop twitching.  I don't know if it is because I'm looking at the computer screen for too long, or if I'm too tired from not sleeping well, or if I need to eat another dozen bananas, or what.  It's not the twitchy eye that is the sign of age so much as it is my COMPLAINTS about the twitchy eye.  I feel like a crotchety old woman giving an organ recital about the doggon thing.  But when your kid tells you that you look like an alien from the side because of your eye spasming, you've got good reasons.  Maybe Maxine and I should team up and make a cartoon about that.

2.  Friends is on Nick at Nite.  HOW did this happen?  Friends is my all time favorite show, so it should not be on this channel.  This is the channel for older people who can not sleep at night.  Do I fit into that category?  Well, yes.  But still.  Nick at Nite?!

3.  I am cold all the time.  Especially my hands and feet.  Which leads me to...

4.  I am kntting fingerless gloves because I'm on the computer all day every day.  I just need to learn how to knit socks next.  It's on my list. 

So, there are my aging difficulties.  I'm still young at heart, though. :)

Things I love right now...

...at 11:03 pm, Sunday, January 29th, 2012.

• My kid. She is ever and always my first place, even when times are sticky.

 

• Live music.  The more I listen to it and participate in it, the more happy I become!! 
• I still love my iPhone.
• I'm loving Ingrid Michaelson's newest album, Human Again.  She is always herself, but each album is different, too.  Hard to describe, easy to listen to! 
• I'm particularly lucky to have 2 close girl friends here in the area, and I am so very thankful for them.  (Thanks, Bettina and Linnie!)
• Zentangle.  If you haven't, you should.  Best brain yoga anywhere! 
• Photoshop CS5.  I think that I looked the other direction for so long, I forgot how much fun it is to work in this program.  By the by, my favorite tools right now are Brandy Murry's Ultimate Artist collection.  You need these.  Trust me.
• Nutella and pretzels.
• Being nice when people don't expect it.
• The Big Bang Theory.  Seriously, last week's episode had me laughing so hard.  Great show.  I have a huge crush on Sheldon.
• Pinterest.  Have you been THERE?!  Don't go.  You won't leave for hours.  (But it's soooo good!)
• Knitting.  (Even though I'm having a heck of a time getting those damn ear flaps to face the correct way...Ryan will eventually get his hat!)
• Blogging.  I have MISSED you, my blog!! It makes me happy to have somewhere to babble to!

Happy Monday now, people.  This week has lots of good things in store.  I can feel it!

Wonders never cease...

I just figured out that I can blog from my phone. Many of you probably have known this for eons, but sometimes I'm a little late to the party!

This should make it fun this weekend when I get to hang out with friends and hear live music and eat yummy food. Perfect timing!

Here's to a wonderful weekend! *fingers crossed*

Musical thoughts

Someone today on Facebook asked about what books to recommend teaching a beginning student with.  I immediately answered it, and then just sat there looking at my post.  It's been YEARS since I've taught a lesson  - at least 5 years seriously.  There was once a day where I taught over 50 students a week, vocal and piano lessons.  (That may have been what started my nervous breakdown *grin*.) Where did that time go? I don't know if I miss it or not, but I do wonder how I came to be so far FROM that.

Melanie and I listen to a lot of different music.  She likes a lot of the popular stuff that her friends at school listen to (dare I even mention JB?), and I can handle some of that, just not in large, whopping doses at once.  We both like pop/folk stuff too - Ingrid Michaelson (who has a wonderful new album out), A Fine Frenzy, The Weepies, Rosie Golan.  We are recently in love with Gotye, Kings of Leon, Mumford and Sons, Greg Laswell.  And then we like most classics:  Ben Folds, The Beatles (hasn't Ringo aged well?!), Fleetwood Mac, Chicago, Bread, Journey, etc.  I love that she has a taste of all of that and can recognize most of it.  There are tons of other bands that we listen to as well, but to list them all would be a really boring blog post.

One thing that we always come back to is Contemporary Christian music.  Even with my current distaste of organized religion, I still find comfort and encouragement in these songs of truth about who God is.  We can be found singing Praise & Worship stuff a lot, and then finding where that song comes from in scripture.  I love that I can go back to this music; that no one can take that away from me, nor the scripture that it is from.  

Kari Jobe has a new album that just came out this Tuesday called Where I Find You.  It is so great; I love how she writes about her love for who God is.  The songs are doggon catchy too - I find myself humming and/or singing them a lot of the day.  

I guess even stating that I still listen to music about God is kind of a brave thing for me.  I'm so afraid most of the time about what people think about me that I often filter.  Afraid of what they might think of me, or what judgements they may make of me because I am struggling with my faith.  But at almost 38 years of age, I think the time has come for me to be as real about it as possible.  If people don't like me because I struggle in this area, then they really aren't going to like me.  I am in flux.  I am still learning.  And I do a lot of my thinking and learning through music, always have, and always will.

Well, there you have it.  Musical thoughts on a dreary Thursday.  If you have the time and energy, check out that Kari Jobe album.  It's worth a listen to, bothy lyrically and musically. 

The rescue effort

Well, it's been a year since I've blogged.  A great deal of that time has been spent trying to recover from the mess that was UCWebhost and their immediate and dismal dissappearance from the world wide web; part is an ongoing mess with a new host service and my domain name, which floats around endlessly now and I can't seem to access it. 

The other part of it is that parts of this past year have not been things that I want to remember.  More on that later.

So you'll notice that my old blog posts are here; many are missing photos.  Thankfully somewhere on one of my hard drives, I do have the photos that were on my blog saved.  I just need to find which ones go with which post and realign the stars.  I'll work on that on an as needed basis.

Current events dictate that I should tell you that some things are still true in my life:

1. I still love my kid.  She's still an adventure every day.  There is always a new story to tell.
2. I still am addicted to Rock Band and Guitar Hero.  And yes, I am getting too old for that.
3. I still search several times a week for new music to discover. 
4. I still read avidly, except now I read on a nook.  Best. Thing. Ever.
5. I still design scrapbooking supplies and other assorted doodads.  
6. I still type medical transcription work.
7. I still am not finished figuring out who I am.
8. I still drink tea every day.
9. I still struggle with fibromyalgia and CFS.  (blah)
10. I still love to tell the stories of my everyday life.

I'm really looking forward to this becoming a part of my routine again.  I hope you'll follow along as I try to dismantal my filter and be real, and talk about things that are part of real life.  Lots of fun and thrills ahead, I'm sure!

 

We ' ve come a long way...

I've had a difficult day. I dread going to the doctor because I'm always going to get more bad news. Ick poo!

So I am taking a quick look back to this photo, and seeing how far we've come in the past 12 months as a family.

This was in the spring. Less than a year ago. I'd say late May. It was obviously after the hair that was incident, where Melanie shaved herself half bald because here hair was crunchy. It was when Brian was at his most sick, I think. These were hard months.

This was Christmas morning. Amazing, the difference.

She has hair. Not as much as she'd like yet, but it's coming. He has facial hair - more than he wanted, because either that day or the day after he swiped it all off with a razor. They're both healthy and happy and beautiful.

Today, I am thankful for these good things. One day at a time for now, and then in a year, I can look back and see the good changes. This is good.

A noble pursuit

I've often thought about what I'd like to do with my life. (Because you know, I don't really "DO" anything right now.)

When I was in highschool, I was going to do something with music. Performance, perhaps, or teaching. I thought also of musical psychology, or something else in a psychology field. I've thought about majoring in languages - French, Spanish, Japanese (the last one was rather fleeting). I thought about doing something with a degree in graphic design, which still niggles back and forth in my brains sometimes. I want to do something that will be fulfilling (my word for the year) and also help others.

This morning, I've figured it out.

I'm going to figure out what the hell is going on inside a cat's brain.

Think about it: the untold depths will be finally demystified!

Here are my current reasons for my new-found passion.

Sunny & Butch.

Butchy. Isn't he sweet?

Sundance. Awwww....

Butch. What a Christmas miracle!

Sunny and his new girlfriend, Victoria, in their cozy home-away-from-home. (Melanie does NOT love this, for what it's worth.)

Butch and Brian. Butch, especially, just wants some peace and quiet. Dangit.

Melanie & Sunny. He would like to stop the photo ops so he can rest with his girl.

See? They're SO sweet! They're wonderful. They're....

This is so wrong. These cats are delightful for about 3/10 of the day. The rest of the time they are PURE. EVIL.

I can't catch the evil on film. I think that's one of their mystic cat-powers that I'd like to discover.

They're terrors. They're spazzes. They're so...catty!!

I don't understand it, really. You'd think that when their humans are up and about and happy and energetic, they'd like to join in the partay and do their kitty thang at the same time. (I think right there is my first mistake - we are not their humans. They just live with us and make us think that they like us in order to get the good kibble.)

These boys though, if there is activity of any human sort, run and hide. Butch will go right under the couch. Sunny will hide behind the blinds in one of the windows.

However, when the humans calmo-relaxo, and it's time for quiet and peace, these guys decide that that is for the birds.

Birds? What? Where? RUN!!!

(See?! They're rubbing off on me!)

Our Christmas tree? It has been a cat playground. The bottom half of it is bare naked. The tree skirt looks like a rag in a pile. We have ornaments all over the house, and we'll probably find them by sometime around Halloween.

Their food bowl? It's not a bowl. It's just a vessel for them to empty all over my kitchen floor. Their water bowl? It's just a place for Butch to insert his paw, and consistently and repeatedly fwap out the water into the food bowl, so that the 5 pieces of kibble that are left in the bowl are all turned to mush, which neither of them will eat. They will sit there beside the bowl and meow at me until I empty it, wash it, and refill it with fresh kibble, so that they can dump and then mushify the new stuff.

Brian's new bathrobe? Totally Butch's bed.

My new basket? Totally Sunny's new resting place.

Melanie's everything? It's just an excuse for them to place their fuzzy butts and or paws on it all.

Butch is a dandy. He doesn't like to be mussed or fussed. He wants everything just in place, and doesn't like it when his way isn't had. He's long-legged with a perfect white bow-tie mustache. However, he snores and growls in his sleep and talks back like he thinks he's human.

Sunny is a big orange fuzzy meatloaf. He is like Al Bundy with a tail. He farts and sits with his legs wide open and eats all the live long day. He has to weigh 20 lbs.He looks at you with slitted eyes because he's too lazy to open them all the way up...unless there is perhaps bacon involved.

Some days, I want to string them up. They make me CA-razy! Then they go and do something cute.

And then I realize - they're just like me. They've got their quirks. Their weird times of day, and their normal times of day. They are sometimes lovable, sometimes annoying. They need loved up, and they need disciplined.

They need a Valium.

I guess in order to understand these guys, I need to probably understand myself a little more.

Ha! I just laughed out loud. Good luck to me!