Tourist Season

Photo Credit foto3116 (Flickr)

The tourists are coming to my mountain.
I apply a fresh coat of clean white snow.
I make my trees stand extra tall.
But all I feel is the muddy slush underneath.

Off!

Photo Credit ToastyKen (Flickr)

I made a promise to myself and Seth and others who love me that I will take care of myself. You can read about My New Rules if you are so inclined.

This morning, Ruth wanted to do some art, which included a baking project (twist my arm). SO...... I didn't get out to have my exercise until tonight.

When I exercise at night, I usually go down the street into my in-law's condo development. I feel very safe there, in part because it is a very well lit neighborhood. A light next to every garage. A lamp post at every corner, and others where the labyrinthine shortcuts through the neighborhood meander.

Another reason to exercise in my in-law's neighborhood is that the quiet of the place and the uniformity of the homes makes a walk there more meditative. I don't have any interest in what the homes look like - they are pretty much the same from the outside. Why is this? Well, of course! They have a homeowner's association (otherwise known as an HOA).

An HOA in most housing developments is supposed to look after your best interests by ensuring no one does anything interesting outside his/her/their home. OK - I will admit that at times, an HOA does have your best interests at heart - for example, by making sure everyone's roof is replaced on time. BUT, I have a bias against them, because they generally exist as a beaurocratic impediment to creativity.

Interestingly, however, on my walk this evening I noticed something completely different. Suddenly I was overstimulated in my in-law's neighborhood. It was as if the HOA said, "All bets are off from the day after Thanksgiving until January 1. Do whatever the hell you want around your house!"

Tonight, being there felt almost like Las Vegas without the smoking and casinos. There was an onslaught of decorations and lights, lights everywhere. A plethora of arrangements in the entire spectrum of the rainbow. And the entire technicolor nightmare was heightened by the rain which: (1) created a reflection of the spectacle on the black wet street; and (2) created droplets on my glasses (without which I cannot cope even during the day) which refracted the view.

There were giant lit inflated Santas. Windows filled with lights. Windows traced in lights. Artificial candles in windows. Lights randomly thrown on tree branches. Lights carefully placed on bushes. There were flashing, moving reindeer. There were flashing snowflakes and snowmen (some even tipping their hats). Wreathes lit up (some flashing).

As I walked, I became nauseous. Really, I did. I sat down on a bench and closed my eyes. I almost called Seth to pick me up. But I had made my promise for a real workout and I was not going to give up. I am one stubborn chick, that's for sure.

As I am learning to take care of myself, however, I am trying not to be too stubborn to make myself overly miserable, so I left the neighborhood as soon as possible and entered the neighboring housing development which appeared to have much more reasonable holiday light restrictions.

At least until New Year's, I'm going to have to exercise during the day.

Privacy on the train - Almost Friday Haiku

Photo Credit: Gustty (Flickr)

On the train reading
Amidst a group of strangers
An Unquiet Mind

I'm not sure why but
I clutched the book to my lap
To hide the title

Honest Scrap Project

My dear friend Sophie tagged me for the honest scrap project. Rules are as follows:
I have to tell you 10 true things about me and then tag 7 folks to do the same thing.

BIG PROBLEM HERE - I don't have 7 people to tag. I don't have a lot of time/energy, so I only follow a couple of blogs and they have already done this or have been tagged to do so. SO, I think I'll just make up my own rules (a good sign for me psychologically).

I'll just do the first part (10 true things about me). I'll skip that I'm bipolar - y'all all know that about me already.

1. I believe that Rimsky-Korsakov is a demon. Well, not exactly, but if Flight of the Bumblebee comes on the radio while I'm cycling, the shit hits the fan in a VERY BIG WAY.

2. For I'm not sure how many years, I never got my feet measured. I just figured I was a AAAA width because I always had been (as in since high school - and now I'm about to turn 40). Recently, I started to feel pain in my feet, so I went into a local independent shoe store just to see. OH MY GAWD. I am a 12 B!!!!!!! As in very big feet. I can/do wear my husband's shoes. All this time, I thought shoes were supposed to squeeze you that way.

3. My physical "type" (meaning the kind of look to which I'm attracted) is tall, skinny and nerdy-looking. Think Stephen Colbert. My favorite outfit on Seth is his birthday suit with his glasses. Woweeeeeeeee! :)

4. I am THRILLED that jeans that fit at your natural waist are coming back into fashion! As a holiday gift to myself (and because none of my jeans fit me), I bought 2 pair today. I'm hoping for after holiday sales and I'm going to stock up just in case the stupid low rise thing that creates muffin tops on almost any REAL body comes back into style.

5. My sister and I used to wear matching outfits. Not our decision - we were too young to care. But I have to laugh at the pictures now.

6. My hair grows up, out and down. Kind of like an afro on a Caucasian woman (only not so frizzy). So when I get a haircut, I become shorter.

7. I have terrible night vision but absolutely adore SCUBA diving at night. Everything is peaceful and I just love the phosphorescent sparkly stuff. Plus, you get to glimpse things that you don't get to see during the day (like seahorses).

8. In spite of my deep respect for sea creatures (pun intended), I must confess my delight in slurping raw oysters with horseradish sauce. This disgusts most folks I know because it is so slimy. But to me, YUM YUM YUM.

9. I love to watch HGTV and Food Network when I can (which isn't often). I really do believe that you can do-it-yourself (when you aren't cycling down). Once, when Seth was out of town, I redid our bedroom, including refinishing our dressers, painting the walls and making a headboard out of bookshelves. He was shocked. I thought it looked great, and I think he did, too.

10. I firmly believe that the American English language needs a second person plural and that "y'all" should be it.

Wow. I can't believe I made it this far. Sorry I can't tag anyone, but if you happened to land here and feel like doing it, by all means knock yourself out!

All this and the cops, too?

Photo Credit: Robin Hutton (Flickr)

Sometimes life hits you in the face with a bowling ball. That was today.

Things started off well. Before I even woke up, Seth dropped David and Ruth off with dear friends for a play date. The theory was I could do what I wanted with the morning (though exercise is mandatory) and then the kids would come home at lunch time. What a sweet gift of time.

So, after attempting push-ups and sit-ups, I sat by the fire enjoying breakfast, then tea and reading time (a rare treat -- in part due to kids and in part due to difficulty with concentration). My current book - An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison. Many folks have told me that this book will help me. Today, I am not sure.

Anyway, thanks to Seth and my good friend, today, I had my morning. I did not change clothes - Even at 10 pm, I'm still in PJs. I didn't even comb my out-of-control bed head from last night.

It turned out that my friend couldn't bring the kids home til 2 pm. At 1:45 pm, based on the anticipated 2 pm arrival, I took a pill Dr. Shrink Wrap gave me for when I need extra energy. I was proud of myself for thinking of this ahead of time.

Pill taken, I set out to read until they arrive. And silly me, I shouldn't have. But how was I supposed to know that just as the doorbell rang, I would read about how Dr. Jamison would attempt to take her life by overdosing on lithium? I opened the door with tears in my eyes.

David and Ruth arrived tuckered out (as expected). It didn't take long for them to start bickering over nothing. Problem was that I didn't have the energy that I expected/needed from my little friend the white pill.

When I told the two of them to work it out themselves, (translation, when I didn't mediate in Ruth's favor), Ruth said "I hate my family and I am going to run away." And off she went out the door, running away. This drama queen type behavior is not new. Usually, however, she only gets to the corner, crying and screaming, but well within David's sight (he is a very reliable spy).

Being of sound mind (or from the looks of me in PJs and baseball cap, maybe not), I walked across the street to talk to a neighbor/spy on Ruth. I got distracted by my conversation with the neighbor, and then David came running up to me crying at the top of his lungs. "Ruth is around the corner. She really is running away."

I looked in the direction of the intersection and could no longer see Ruth. BUT, I did see not 1, but 2 police cars on our little suburban street.

Good Lord have mercy. All this and the cops, too. And perfect timing -- if the cops saw Ruth, they'd have seen a huge bruise next to her eye from a fall 2 days ago.

Before you could say, "shit!" off I went running like a crazy woman (oh, yeah, I am a crazy woman). One arm under my breasts for needed support (heck, I wasn't wearing a bra - I was still in my PJs). Funky hair/cap. Tears dripping down my cheeks. Son crying his eyes out in front of me screaming, "Ruth, don't run away. Don't run away." Ruth crying, "Leave me alone! No one loves me! I hate my family! Get away from me!"

When Ruth stopped running, David caught up and tried to hug her and tell her that he loved her, and she screamed "Get away from me!" I encouraged David to come to me, about 15 feet away. David was way under dressed for the chilly day, so we sat and snuggled together on the sidewalk. To wait. And wait. And wait some more. Ruth can be damned stubborn. Like her mother.

I wept (I try not to cry in front of the kids, but I just didn't have the energy not to). I said, "Ruth, sweetie, please don't do this to me now. I can't handle it." And David said, "Don't ever run away. I love you so much." And we waited some more, all 3 of us on the sidewalk. David and I crying and huddling together for warmth.

Well, Ruth finally got over whatever she needed to get over and came back to go home with us.
We walked home hand in hand. The cops were still there. I'm still not sure why they even came in the first place. I hope I don't have to find out.

It seemed as if for little Ruth, nothing had happened. She was over it. She needed some distance/time alone. That was it.

But I could tell that David felt rejected by his sister. His head hung low as we walked home.

And I wish I could describe the feeling I have now, heavier than a bowling ball, sitting in my heart somewhere. It's hard to have publicly admitted to my kids and myself that sometimes I just can't handle it. I don't want them walking on eggshells around me. I don't want them to have the childhood I had.

STOP the music!

Photo Credit: tengtan (Flickr)

I've been meaning to write this post since the day after Thanksgiving.

Everywhere I turn, there is Christmas music. In grocery stores. In the mall. In Target. Even on the radio - any station except NPR (at least, I haven't heard it there yet).

I am upset by this.

Yes, I'm in a down cycle, but that's not it.

Many would assume that I am upset by this because I am Jewish and don't like to be caught up in a holiday in which I don't believe and never will. No. I'm used to all of the Christmas hullabaloo, and it doesn't faze me.

Truly, what upsets me is that this music reminds me of how much closer we are to the end of another year. The passage of time that I won't get back. Ever.

My New Rules

Photo Credit: givepeasachance (Flickr)

My New Rules (courtesy of Dr. Shrink Wrap)

• When I go to bed each night, place morning pills at bedside table with a water bottle.
  
• Take morning meds as soon as I wake up - when my eyes open.
• Get out of bed as soon as pills are swallowed.
• Take an hour's brisk walk (or have an hour of some other vigorous exercise) as soon as possible in the morning.
• Stop eating things that a pre-diabetic person should not eat.
  
• Stop blaming anything or anyone else on my inability to do the things I need to do to take care of myself.

Like 'em? Not sure yet if I do, but I'm willing to try (which is a good sign). I have printed out 4 copies to place around the whole house.

Before my diagnosis, I was very good with rules. If I made one for myself, I did not break it. End of story. Take for example this. I weighed over 200 pounds and was on my way to diabetes. My Dr. told me to cut carbs out of my diet and lose a significant amount of weight. And I did it - 50 pounds. No surgery. No Weight Watchers/Jenny Craig type of thing. Just me. My will.

Here's the problem. Lately, I am not so sure how much control I have over myself any more. I feel like I must regain my will to stick to my rules. To keep going up the mountain even if it's 2 steps forward and 2 back. And with bipolar, regaining my will is an even steeper mountain and heavier rock than I thought I faced when I began this cyber journey.

Well.

Since it's thanksgiving, I will end this post on a positive note. I am thankful to have found this community with whom I share my inner self. Most of my real life friends don't get it like you do. So thanks. Really.

Sleepwalking in the Fog

Photo Credit: luca:sehnsucht (Flickr)

It's a bit difficult to describe how I feel these days. People who know something is awry ask me. Sometimes too much (daily phone calls are difficult for me, and when I ignore them, they become more frequent).

The kids can tell something's up (or down as the case really is). David, in particular, is especially generous with his hugs these days. Ruth, usually the less demonstrative one, asked to snuggle me today. I have tried so hard to insulate them from the effects of my bipolar, but right now, I am too transparent.

When your mom gets out of bed and goes downstairs and immediately falls fast asleep on the couch, it doesn't take much in the brains department to know things are not exactly normal. This behavior has been mine since last Saturday. Never before then.

While on the couch this morning, Seth touched my shoulder and told me that his Dad (who has Alzheimer's) was here. "OK," I said and went right back to sleep. Luckily, my FIL didn't really need anything (or worse, like try to wander off) while I was crashed out. I woke up when I heard him saying aloud, "Is there anywhere to piss here?" And (thank heavens) I was able to get him on the toilet on time.

So.... back to how I feel... It's like walking carrying a heavy load of baggage into the fog while sleeping. I can't see where I'm going, but I lift up one leg with my arms. Put it down. Lift up the other. Put it down. Move the baggage along with me. And so on.

This sleepy ambling takes all the energy I have, and yet I don't really stop. I can't figure out where I'm headed, but something inside keeps me plodding along. At the risk of melodrama, I just don't know where on earth I will find the energy I need to keep this up.

I miss me. I know I'm not the only one, and that is what keeps me going - slowly - but going.

Child's Pose

Photo Credit Ignorrr (Flickr)

In yoga's child's pose
On my bedroom floor
Choking back tears (why, I don't know)
And praying to God for my next breath.

Collision

Photo Credit extranoise (Flickr)

Last night I had a girls' night. The first one in eons. I met up with two intelligent, witty and sweet friends and ate delicious food. NOT A CHILD IN SIGHT! Not even someone else's child at the restaurant.

We talked and shared and laughed and supported each other until the waiter (ever so politely) kicked us out of the restaurant. Then we talked and laughed some more out on the street (apologies from Bloglandia to the poor folk living nearby who thought they would have a nice night's sleep). Thank heaven for a warm night! We hugged as one friend got in her car to go home.

I then took the other friend to her next destination (she has more stamina than I). After a super car hug, I headed home - a half hour journey including mostly freeway driving. It was after midnight. My heart felt light (no, if you are wondering, not a drop of alcohol in my system). After a couple (OK more than a couple) of weeks in the Land Down Under, I felt GOOD as I headed home.

Less than 5 minutes into the freeway part of the journey is a piece of road that is extremely curvy and narrow, so much so that the speed limit is reduced to 35. To one side - cars completely ignoring the slower speed limit. To the other - a barrier with reflectors on top and dark lines etched in the concrete below where in the past, cars (perhaps ignoring the speed limit themselves, or perhaps victims of those in the lane next door) have had close encounters with the concrete.

As I considered my predicament, in an instant, my mood changed. I stared at the concrete with its reflectors and dark lines and thought to myself, "this is a really sharp curve - how quick and easy it would be to just drive my car head-on into that concrete. I'd just need to take my hands off the steering wheel. Poof. No more me."

Photo Credit: striatic (Flickr)

And then I focused on the road and safely arrived home and went to bed.

This morning at about 6, Seth lovingly stroked my head to let me know that he'd be heading off on his weekly bike ride with his really close friend (even though this friend may never again appear in my blog, I'll call him Morgan for the amusement of my girlfriends who dined with me last night). I grunted, knowing that soon, I'd need to get up to feed the kids.

When I needed to pee, I got out of bed. Took my meds, went downstairs and was told by the kids that they had dealt with their own breakfasts. I was shocked, looking at the clock, that it was already 9 a.m. Even so, I climbed onto the downstairs couch, pulled a quilt over me and went back to sleep. At around noon (must have been - he was back from his ride), Seth and the kids were playing nearby and a balloon popped. I opened my eyes and promptly closed them again.

Next thing I remember, I was dreaming that I was peeing. Thankfully, I woke up and that wasn't actually happening. I dragged my weary ass to the bathroom. It was 3 in the frickin' afternoon! I had slept until 3:00! I didn't even do that in my college days.

Anyway, I wanted desperately to get back on the couch, but my rational mind said, "Sis, you know you shouldn't do that." So I told Seth I wanted to get back on the couch but would instead get exercise by taking a walk. Gawdblessim, he's almost always willing to let me exercise, so he said OK.

Pulled on my clothes, shoes, i-pod and phone and off I went in the direction of my favorite hilly trail that doesn't require a car to access from my home. Head, heart and feet all heavy. Even the Gipsy Kings could not lift my spirits or quicken my pace. I realized less than halfway into the loop of the trail that I couldn't go the whole way, and that even if I felt up to it emotionally, it would be dark on the trail pretty soon. So I headed to the shortcut home. Well, it would have been a shortcut, but I got lost (this tells you where my mind wasn't because I've taken this shortcut MANY times).

Not far from home, I was waiting at a light to cross a very busy 6 lane thoroughfare. Speed limit 45. Tons of cars whizzing by. And I thought, "gee, I could just step off this curb into the traffic. Poof. No more me."

Photo Credit Lucia ! (Flickr)

Now we interrupt this blog entry, lest you get yourself too concerned in this moment and try to figure out who I am and where I live, (if you don't know this information about me already) and where the nearest inpatient psychiatric program is.

Let's be clear. These were just thoughts as stated. I didn't say to myself, "gosh, I'd like to..." or "maybe I should..." or "wouldn't everything be better if..." It was kind of like, "whoa. Life is so fragile. If (BIG BIG BIG IF) I wanted to, I sure could."

I'm writing now, so obviously, I held on to that steering wheel. And obviously, I stood on the curb until the light changed. But I don't know exactly what my head is doing to me right now. I have always known how people can take their lives. I know people who have tried. I know people who have. So yes, suicide has touched my life. But I've never connected those notions to me personally, not even obliquely like this.

I promise I'm not going to kill myself. Really, I promise. No matter how far in the Land Down Under I get, I do value myself to some degree and I love my friends and family too much to choose to leave them prematurely.

I am on the verge of creating a gigantic car collision in my life (obviously representative of big change) and I am scared out of my mind.

Thank goodness, Seth is upstairs in bed and will let me cry all I want on his shoulder (literally). Thank goodness I have an appointment with Dr. Shrink Wrap on Wednesday. And I'll be calling in sick Monday and Tuesday.

Folks, the rock is on top of me now. So I am going to take care of myself the best I can - I'm going to climb into bed and ask Seth to hold the rock up a bit so I can breathe.

Who needs therapy when you can bake?

Part 1: Cookies

Above you'll see results of some of my baking over the last couple of days. In case you can't tell because I'm not trained as a food photographer, these are coconut macaroons with dark chocolate spiderwebs piped over them. I made them for a Halloween party on Sunday. Perhaps I was channeling Martha Stewart.

Anyway, he wonderful thing about these cookies is that I wasn't manic when I made them. So often when I do a lot of baking, I do it because I need SOMETHING to do with the manic energy. This time, I did not double or triple the recipe. I did not make more than needed. Wow. That is an accomplishment for me, as abundance is usually my motto.

The other great thing about making these cookies was how the world slipped away as I piped the chocolate spider webs onto them. I love a project that can suck you into a zone like that. It was just what I needed. I didn't know that at the time I began the project, but I felt so refreshed when it was done that I became aware of it.

Part 2: Cake

This is a photo of a cake I made this evening to take to a friend (my age) whose sister died unexpectedly the day before yesterday.

As I turned the cake out of the pan, all sorts of thoughts and feelings came rushing at me with the heavenly smelling chocolate steam of the cake. Some were obvious. I feel so blessed and relieved to have my health and to have a healthy sister. I feel so blessed that Seth, Ruth and David are well. A few tears rolled down my face for my friend, who is really trying to be strong for herself and her family.

I looked at the cake and other things came to me. As I looked at its beautiful shape, I thought about the circle of life. I thought about how the circle of life's beauty contains all sorts of imperfections, like the nooks and crannies in my cake. And I realized (as if for the first time) that each cake will come out looking different every time even if you follow the recipe to a "T" without fail. So too with our lives. As we go around, all of us experience a slightly imperfect circle - each uniquely our own.

Naturally, I reflected on the nooks, crannies and imperfections in my life and realized that as difficult as they can be sometimes, they are also delicious.

L'chaim. To life.

The Pill Box: A Haiku

I have a pill box
Separate compartments each
Labeled with the days

My pill box comes with
Individual boxes marked
AM and PM

To ensure I don't miss
My morning or evening dose
Yet sometimes I do

My cocktails sit there
Under their translucent lids
Just waiting for me

Each day and each night
I dutifully take them
And I heave a sigh

My pillbox carries
Much more than my medicine
There are feelings, too

Every morning
I swallow away last night
No time to sleep now

At evening time
Readying myself for bed
Kiss the day good bye

A constant reminder
That time is rushing ahead
Lies in my pill box

What Tarot Card am I?

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

I took the test and here I am...

You are The Wheel of Fortune

Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of intoxication with success

The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.

--------------------

OK - come on. We're talking about a person who is BIPOLAR!!!!!

Yes, luck can change, but sometimes?????

Here I sat thinking, "yet another web quiz that doesn't work for me because I'm bipolar." But, I decided to do a little more research, because I know NOTHING about Tarot and was intrigued. I figured if Sophie sent me to the quiz, it had to be pretty darned cool. So off I went to Wikipedia. Here's some of what I found, and now it makes more sense:

"... the most common function of this card within a reading is to introduce an element of random interference or sudden and unpredictable change in the querant's life. Several key concepts are frequently associated with the card:

• Turning point; Opportunities; Possibilities

• Destiny; Fate; Superior Forces; Movement

• Development; Activity; Surprises; Expansion

• Sudden Events; Speed; New Developments; Life Cycles

...

Symbolism in the Mythopoetic Approach

In this approach, which views the Major Arcana as a journey through life taken by the character of the Fool (the Fool being the first card, or the zero card, of the Major Arcana), the Wheel of Fortune represents the intercession of random chance into the Fool's path. The card represents the forces that can help or hinder the querant suddenly or unpredictably."

OK... Now we're talking!

Just a little giddy....

OK - some little things in life just make you feel a little happy lump in your throat, right?

Tonight, I deleted 38 messages from my answering machine. Ooooh. I'm giddy! Not seeing that number glowing on the machine is pure pleasure!



Image credit: newchaos (flickr)

High Voltage

Photo Credit oskay (Flickr)

If you are expecting another post about the coming election, you're not getting one. Nope - I'm back to bipolar. Just so you know....

The rock is heavy on my shoulders. My legs are shaking under the weight.

I've got that feeling. That feeling in my gut. Anxiety. Tension. The lump in my throat that doesn't go away. The ease and speed with which I cry.

Thursday night, I made 5 dozen muffins for a school coffee - pumpkin cheesecake and whole wheat ginger pear. Did I have to make that many? OF COURSE NOT!!!!!!! The teachers were happy, though - they get what the parents don't eat. Never hurts to have the teachers on your side. ;)

Today, I've been cleaning lots more than I normally would on a Saturday, and I'm avoiding family and friends.

Another manic episode seems to be in my near future. Yuck. I'm already anticipating the crash down the mountain.

Of course, it doesn't help that every day, per Evil Boss's instructions, I'm training away more and more of my job.

It also doesn't help that my job interview yesterday went poorly (you pretty much know you are not going to be hired when they talk in the interview about how you are overqualified for the job). Funny - I don't think I even want the job, but the fact that they probably don't want me shakes my confidence in a way that it would not if I were doing OK.

DANGER - Seth will be out of town all week on business. I see lack of sleep in my future.

Thank you, Sara at MySadAlterEgo, for helping me see that this is coming. It's a reminder that I might need to get out some extra of what Dr. Shrink Wrap (bless him) calls my FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEND to help me through.

On a positive note, I'll probably have a really clean house. And maybe I'll get to read lots of blog posts I haven't gotten to read, but want to. For now, off to laundry and kitchen cleaning.

For now, I'm off to do laundry and clean the kitchen......

Exactly - This IS Important

Image Credit: Seattle Municipal (Flickr)

Apolologies in advance for making most of this post out of someone else's words. I wish I were so eloquent as Anna Quindlen. I can only urge you to read this article she wrote about the Presidential election. The point of the piece is that we're not getting enough substance out of the candidates or the media and we deserve and need that.

If you don't have the time or inclination, here's a bit or three to ponder:

"Both [McCain] and Senator Obama need to provide detailed and incisive answers, not rote snippets from their stump speeces. Perhaps this is the race in which voters will not be charmed by affect or riposites. After all, eight years ago, the American peopple embraced a good ole boy at the polls and wound up with a man neither insightful nor intellectual enough to manage the nation."

...

"It can't possibly be that we've become so insecure about our power, our primacy, our plce in the world that we can't bear a person who stands on principle. It can't really be that America has become a nation so small-minded that intellect must belittled. It can't really be about likability, can it? I don't need the president to be my friend. I have friends. What I need is someone to clean up the mess George W. Bush has made of the country I love."

...

"Here is the only thing about anyone's kids that matters now: every time you vote you make your kids a promise. It's a promise that you will look past cheap slogans and lazy alliances to try to find a way to make America worthy of a new generation."


Amen sister. Although I don't consider myself very patriotic and although I've made my choice already based on my research about the candidates professional lives so far, these words touched me. We owe it to our children to vote responsibly and to demand that the candidates give us what we need to make an informed choice. Because the average person won't or can't take the time to find out on his/her own.

Signs of the Times

Image Credit: Sisyphesse

I realized as I was driving today that I've never explained the photo I use when I blog. So here you go:

I took the photo of this sign one day during a bad manic episode. I was tired of being just a "B" online. I wanted to be me, so it helped ground me to have a concrete image to use out there in Bloglandia.

I drive by this sign almost every day on the way to pick up my kids at school (and often to drop them off as well). It's on a beautiful part of the road. It's an "S" for Sisyphesse. I love all those "S" sounds - and the S shape symbolizes the curvy road I'm taking on this trip called life. I also like that it points up. I hope to go up as much as possible, so I see the sign as hopeful.

Like the S, I'm curvy, too. Another way I identify with it.

I'm pleased with the photo because the image isn't merely the road sign. In addition to the verdant background, you can see abstract images (clouds? trees? I'm guessing both.) reflected on the sign's surface.

In real life, it looks a little different every time I drive by it. I look forward to seeing it for that brief instant on my way. Knowing that it's there reassures me, as it marks a definite place on my journey. At the same time, however, it symbolizes that life isn't always as it seems.

I lovingly call it "my sign" now. I claimed it as my own as soon as I started associating it with myself every time I post out there in Bloglandia.

So why this post today?

As I drove by my sign this evening, I noticed that it is SURROUNDED by political signs. Vote YES/NO on Prop. ___. Vote for _______. ______ for Supervisor. And I smiled. I want my sign to be involved in the discourse of the day. I didn't know most of the people or propositions standing proudly there (my sign isn't in my district), but I felt good to see them all.

If I find out they represent issue/candidates that I find abhorrent, I might have to do a little "cleaning up." After all, I wouldn't let litter build up near my sign. Or maybe I leave them there in the name of open discourse.

No Shrinking

Another indication that Dr. Shrink Wrap doesn't take things too seriously (and why he is great to work with):

Image Credit: Dr. Shrink Wrap

Fresh

Photo Credit: glennwilliamspdx (Flickr)

Yesterday, I was on a trail I always share with a dear, dear friend. This was my first time walking there alone. Without the wonderful distraction of my friend, I saw the trail in a completely different way. I noticed the other people and animals on the trail. I smelled the horse poop. I allowed myself to really FEEL the breeze against my skin.

About an hour into my journey. I felt a happy feeling at the pit of my throat. Perhaps you understand what I mean. It's the feeling you get when you know something good is coming. But you don't exactly know what that good thing is.

As if an invisible thread pulled my head towards the East, I turned and looked.

There was my mountain, looking majestic as it bathed in morning light. I stood and stared, shocked that I'd never noticed that I could see my mountain before. I had been so involved with my friend that I hadn't seen it before while on the trail chatting with my friend.

I walked on, looking at my mountain at every clearing. I was so enthralled that I could see my mountain from the trail that I missed my turnoff and didn't realize it until I'd gone 1/2 mile out of my way.

A mile well spent.

Debbie Sommerlot - Citizen of the Moment

Photo Credit: ItzaFineDay (Flickr)

As part of The Great Interview Experiment, I got to interview someone I never would have encountered in the real or virtual world, which is precisely why you should check it out if you haven't gone there to interview/be interviewed.

I was fortunate to have an opportunity to meet Debbie Sommerlot, a mom who blogs at http://realworldmartha.wordpress.com. Even if she weren't a presidential candidate, she's a fun and interesting gal. See below for our virtual conversation (my questions in black, her answers in purple, which I'm sure would look fabulous on her!).

At the risk of getting too heavy here, I really enjoyed your post about not fighting aging. From reading that post, it is clear to me that you believe that you will be going to a place called heaven (which I would expect from a Christian). I must admit that I have trouble envisioning the afterlife. What does heaven look like for you from here on earth? I mean in a tangible way. For example, you talked about angels being there - what is an angel to you?

Yes, I am a Christian. Heaven is everything God is: perfect, holy, no crying and no pain! It's also very beautiful; perfect sunsets, and mountains. God tells me that what I see here is just a glimpse. Just a glimpse? Holy Moly it's gonna be great!

I believe an angel is like God's right hand man or women :) I like this definition and hope it answers the question: The word angel comes from the Greek work aggelos- which means messenger. They are many Bible verses that talk about angels being comforting, guiding, strengthening, encouraging, and there to worship and praise God. ETC

In defining parenting you say (or maybe you found this elsewhere but posted it on your blog, but it is very interesting either way) that a parent is, "One with no particular training to be in charge of another human while not having a clue about themselves." What have you learned about yourself since having children that you did not already know? And what do wish you had known?

That is really what I have learned in a nut shell. I don't have a clue. That is why my faith is so important because I can't do it alone. I am not perfect and God's my mortar. I am praying I just don't screw them up too much and sometimes I think that's the key to parenting.

I see my imperfections via my kids as guess who they learned it from?

I guess there is things you wish you would have known but I would have made other mistakes anyways so I guess nothing. Because I will never be a perfect parent.

I loved reading about your vacation. If I only had a long weekend to explore somewhere you went on your trip, where would you say is the BEST place to go?

That's a hard one for sure. I just have to give two: Morro Bay, CA and anywhere in Oregon. I really love OREGON!

Your blog addresses so many areas of interest (which may be why someone thought you'd make a great president). In one of your posts, you indicated that you were a bit uncomfortable about not having a "theme" to your blog. Have you begun to feel more comfortable in your skin about this yet? (By the way, my blog is really self serving - it's kind of like journaling/therapy for me, which is why I don't get a lot of readers - you attract the masses).

You know what? I was just thinking about that, and I feel like I am in my own niche. I am in the Debbie-Uniquely and Wonderfully Made Category. I won't ever fit in anyone elses shoes. I feel another post coming on.

But also, the REAL Martha is a Jack of All Trades too right?

In one of your posts on homeschooling, you mention 2 side jobs. How do you manage the homeschooling, side jobs and your blog? I think lots of folks would love to know.

Well that was an older post. I only had one, a first grade-easier by far, at the time. I no longer have one of the side jobs (wedding coordinator) and my part time Pampered Chef is pretty slow as it is a lot schooling both kids right now. But my blog is a very important outlet for me, and I have to have time with it.

Speaking of side jobs, who do you think will get more write-in votes in the '08 presidential election - Ralph Nader or you?

That is also taking up my time. It's not easing running for President on the side.

Me of course :) But the way things are going I may not be a write in ..hahaha

How has this hoopla around you as a presidential candidate had an impact on your life, if at all?

It's tough because both McCain and I are from the same state. He takes up all the airport space. My pilots are struggling to put my plane down even as we speak. "No you tell him to go to another airport!" Sorry about that.

Has this strange course of events in your life (seeing your name on buses for example) changed your view of democracy or does it just seem like a blip on the screen?

My son thought it was pretty exciting and that's all that counts.

Finally, inquiring minds want to know... what does your lipstick say about you?

My lip color is a wand, and has been for sometime. But I guess if I had a traditional lipstick I would be a little Slant close to Original Shape, Wounded Tip to the Point, and a little Flat Top to boot. But I can't rule out the other traits at any given moment. :)

They Did!!!!!

Photo Credit: ComellMare (Flickr)

L'chaim! To LIFE!

Seth, David, Ruth and I just returned from an absolutely gorgeous wedding. Sitting among redwood trees on a beautiful day, we celebrated the union of two amazing people whom we love dearly and respect. They stood under the chuppah with their son and daughter. They circled each other. They spoke their vows. They said the prayers and drank the wine. They broke the glass. We clapped as they kissed each other and came down the aisle.

Hors d'eovres were passed. We ate a buffet lunch at circular tables with gorgeous floral centerpieces with burgundy, pink and ivory flowers. They danced their first dance as we all blew bubbles at them. The cake was gorgeous (and delicious). They cut it and fed it to each other, and then it was passed all around. We toasted with champagne (sparkling apple cider for the kids), and some of the folks went on and on, but we laughed during some of the toasts. We danced some more until the kids were exhausted, and then we came home.

Sound familiar (except maybe the kids under the chuppah)????????? If you've ever been to a Jewish wedding, you know what I mean. Heck, even if you haven't, a lot of this is probably familiar to you.

Well, this wedding was different. This was a Jewish lesbian wedding. So when the rabbi said, "by the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you married," there were resounding cheers. When my son David asked why everyone was clapping and cheering, I told him that it wasn't always legal for grown-ups to marry whomever they want, and that I hope if he ever decides to marry when he grows up, he can marry the love of his life. He looked puzzled. This seemed like a perfectly normal celebration to him.

Our friends have been together for 18 years, which in some ways seems like an appropriate time to stand under the chuppah and say your vows. It's a good omen because the number 18, after all, is significant to Jews, as it signifies life (the numbers corresponding to the letters in the Hebrew word for life add up to 18). But how many people do you know who waited 18 years into their relationship to get married? You figure by then, they realize that it isn't right, or they take the plunge.

One of the brides said today: "We didn't want to formalize our relationship until it was legal. We finally don't feel like we're not allowed to do this. We don't feel like we're not equal."

The tears streamed down my face.

Coincidentally, a young woman came to our house yesterday and my husband answered the door. She handed him materials about California's Proposition 8 and encouraged him to support it. In case you don't know, if passed, Proposition 8 would amend the California Constitution to declare that marriage is defined as between a man and a woman.

The Constitution? Does this have you scratching your head as much as it has me scratching mine? Why the heck do we need to amend the constitution this way. In this country where, in theory, we believe in equal rights under the law?

Aren't there more important things to be spending energy on than this?

If you haven't heard, MILLIONS of dollars are going into the campaign to support Prop 8. And some of those millions don't even come from California. What would happen if those dollars could go to truly important issues in California - let's say education?

Anyway, if I had answered the door, I would have asked those questions. Plus:

• The supporters of Prop 8 argue that domestic partnership is just as good as a legally valid marriage. Really? Was separate but equal OK for blacks?
• Interracial marriage was illegal not too long ago. Would that make sense in this day and age?
  
• If you had a child, wouldn't you want him or her to be able to marry the love of his or her life? Or would you stop loving him or her and support the denial of that right?
  
• How the heck does someone else's sexuality affect you?
• At the risk of offending the deeply religious supporters of this amendment, and as someone who believes in God, I could not believe that the kind and loving side of God that I know would encourage flat out discrimination of this kind.
  

The timing of this visit was great. Seth told the young woman that he believed in equal rights for everyone. He also told her that today, we'd be going to a marriage of lesbian friends of ours. She asked, "don't you think that is settting a bad example for your children?" And he replied, "we're taking them."

This was a bit too much for the young woman to handle, so she muttered something like, "Oh. OK," and left.

If that young woman could have been at the wedding today, what she would have seen would have felt very familiar to her. The redwood grove was full of love. Maybe if she had been there today, she'd think twice about what pamphlets to hand out from door to door.

I Do

We are about to go to an historic event. A LEGAL (as it should be) lesbian wedding. Hopefully, there will be many more legal gay weddings for years to come.

Will post later about it, but it should be fun.

Enjoy this, though....

NO ON PROP. 8!!!!!!!

Friday Haiku - Heat

Photo Credit: peasap (Flickr)

Sweat drips down my face.
Salty drops on my forehead.
Between my breasts too.

The heat surrounds me,
Envelops me, a cocoon.
My brain is melting.

Wish me luck!

Photo Credit: Kaibara87 (Flickr)

It's official! I've applied for a new job! I'm taking the "safe" road by applying for a position in my field, but I'm hoping that looking at the new opportunity will help me make decisions.

Of course, they have to decide to interview me so I can find out more, but I'm nearly certain that they will.

It's a job share and would involve a longer commute (unless I could telecommute some/most days), so it may not work for ME. But, gotta look into it.

Wish me luck!

Balance

Photo credit: jenny downing (Flickr)

Well, at the risk of ruining it again, I feel in balance. Good. Very good, even. Like I have pushed that rock up a bit more! Hooray!

I don't know, but it seems like my latest tweak in the drug cocktail is really helping. My brain feels less scrambled. I haven't totally reached my egg vision, but I'm getting there.

Enjoyed a spontaneous dinner with the in-laws this evening and had all the energy I needed to engage my FIL and give MIL a break. And I wasn't exhausted at the end.

Had a very hard chat with evil boss yesterday and let it go. THAT, my friends, is perhaps the biggest sign that I am getting better.

During my latest session with the wonderful Dr. Shrink Wrap, he mentioned that I always seem tentative. I say "but" and "we'll see" too much. I think that's because I've had the cocktails work for a while and then stop working. He understands.

This tentativeness is a a hard habit to break, so I will end this post by saying that I hope I can stay where I am for a good long time. However long it lasts, I'm going to enjoy it.

Haiku Friday - zucchini

Photo credit: benketaro (Flickr)

Out in my garden
Zucchini - so much of it
It's overflowing!

I am stuffing them
I am making bread from them
I'm roasting them too.

Zucchini in soup
Chocolate zucchini cake
Zucchini omelette.

How versatile is
the humble zucchini - oh
So underrated.

Like rabbits they are
Multiplying so quickly
Don't you want some too?

This is your brain on drugs.

Photo Credit - Aaron 13251 (Flickr)
Title: Broken Yolk

As I think about where I am in my life right now, I'm recalling that ad from the 80s that showed an egg in a frying pan and said, "This is your brain on drugs." In case you don't remember it (or want to relive that wonderful time in your life - I don't think anyone who reads my blog was born too late to remember that - in fact, I think only 2 people read my blog, but I digress), you can read about it and see it here.

Anyway, I'm on drugs right now.

I take 4 of them every day and an extra for emergencies (generic Ambien). All are prescriptions from my wonderful Dr. Shrink Wrap (thanks, Sophie for that great name!) Every day, I take 3 mood stabilizers and a sleep aid. We are trying to slowly wean me off of one or two of the mood stabilizers.

Using the egg analogy, what would the egg in my frying pan look like right now?

Scrambled. Or maybe like the one on the left in the photo above.

What do I want to be?

Photo Credit - Swami Stream (Flickr)
Title: Egg of Flowers in Farmer's Market

And this, too:

Photo Credit - Odolphie (Flickr)
Title: Egg Shaped Stone

It is so hard to be patient to feel strong and more regularly happy again. Oh yeah, and beautiful too.

But at least I have a vision. And now, a visual, too (or shall I say two?)! Maybe things are starting to look better after all. Hopefully, the feelings will catch up soon.

This AND That?!?!

Photo Credit - Dynamite360.com (Flickr)

Yesterday, I asked my shrink, "Can you be manic and depressed at the same time?"

His response: "Why do you ask?"

I told him that I felt really depressed that day, but that at the same time, I felt driven to do so many things that morning prior to our noontime session:

• get kids' haircuts
• grocery shopping
• laundry (including folding)
• kitchen cleaning, and
  
• bake cookies for him

He handed me a piece of paper. I filled it out. He showed me a scale and said, "You, my dear, seem to have a bit of ADHD on top of that bipolar of yours."

In that moment, I covered my eyes and cried, but as I think about ADHD, I can see myself in it. For example, while I was cleaning the kitchen and folding laundry, I went back and forth between the kitchen the dining/folding room over and over again, at random. I'd fold a couple of shirts, then wipe a section of counter, then return to the laundry - perhaps to fold, perhaps to transfer clean clothes to the dryer - then back to the kitchen or folding yet again.

At this moment, I need to open my eyes and learn a LOT more before I act. All sources of reliable information are more than welcome!

A thought to end this post:
"The greatest gift you can ever give yourself is a little bit of your own attention." - Anthony J. D'Angelo

Wake-up Call

Photo Credit: MShades (Flickr)

Earlier this week, I had a particularly difficult interaction with my Evil Boss. She told me that my job is at risk because I'm forgetting things, and because of my mood swings. She said that I have to act happy whenever I'm in the office.

Act happy whenever I'm there????? Hello? Does everyone act happy all day at work? I mean, even the nice folks at Starbucks probably don't do that even though they are supposed to (I know my buddies at Peet's don't, but I really like them anyway). And as for me, I'm not happy much of the time.

Anyway, I've left a lot of the conversation out, but to sum it all up, this interaction sent me reeling. Really far down. And damn it all, Seth is out of town on business again this week.

So my AMAZING shrink made some time for me today. We've been adjusting my meds because of the memory issues, and when we adjust my meds, things can get topsy-turvy in mood-landia.

I told him the whole story and sat there and cried. He asked a great question: "What if I saw you the day prior to this discussion?" How would you have said you felt? What about your relationship with this woman is generating these deep feelings?

Whoa. Psychological vs. Psychiatric????? That is the question.

And off we went on an exploration of my feelings. I left his office with my head spinning.

One thing that he really made me face head-on, and it has been right in front of me for the last 3+ years. My manager is toxic for me. I don't really like my work any more. I have to figure out what to do when I grow up. Or at least what to do next.

My close friends have been telling me this for years. My family has been telling me this for years. And I have weakly said, "yeah, I know," or "one day I will."

I am about to say something that terrifies me: I am going to figure out something new to do. I have NO CLUE what that's going to be. But I will do it.

Whew. I've put it in writing now, and so I have to do it. I think I'm going to have to give myself a deadline for it. Or at least a deadline for getting out of my work situation (once I do the financial math).

Anyway, I send out into Bloglandia a request to help me think through options. I will entertain any and all suggestions. I have tough criteria:

• I don't have the self-esteem right now to go into business for myself
• I need to earn $
• I don't want to be too far away from my kids' school
• My physical and mental health require me to work part time
  

So far (and I'm not joking), I've gotten the following suggestions:

• butcher (wise-ass and really funny friend)
  
• baker (shrink)
  
• cabinet maker (wise-ass and really funny friend)
  
• massage therapist (wonderful friend)
  

I feel compelled to extol the virtues of my shrink. He knew the impact of our chat today. And he called me at 8:30 this evening just to make sure I was OK.

In case you are wondering, I'm shaky, but OK. And for me, that's pretty darned good.

Thought to end this post:
Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the Phoenix. - Christina Baldwin

The banking crisis must be worse than I thought....

I'm going to digress from the main reason I blog here for a moment - bear with me...

Let me just begin my saying that we have an automatic withdrawal from one of our accounts that sends an EFT to our mortgage lender to ensure we pay our mortgage on time.

So it came as a surprise to me to get a call this evening from our mortgage company. I told the woman on the phone that she should put me on the do not call list because I don't want the bank to sell me anything. (I work for a bank - I know how they are).

She said that she didn't want to sell me anything - she only wanted to check in to be sure that our payment would arrive tomorrow on its due date.

Like we've ever missed a payment? Ever???????? That would be no. That's because our system (mentioned above) works. What a concept.

Am I missing something, or isn't this a little too paranoid on the bank's part? They're spending money on making sure I'll pay?

Wow. I know there are a lot of foreclosures out there, but, really, I don't need a reminder.

After all, I haven't quit my job yet.

Haiku Friday - Pills

Photo Credit: Sonictk at Flickr

Innocent question
Husband asks us at dinner,
"Share your life's best times."

Mother in law says:
"When my children were little.
You were all so cute."

Father in law says:
"I tried to take my life once.
The pills did not work."

An awkward silence
Descends on the family.
What can we say next?

My John Hancock

A couple of folks turned me on to mylivesignature.com, so I thought I'd investigate.

I created 2 signatures - one from their "wizard" and one by drawing it myself. The former is polished and the latter is not.


Trying to figure out which is best - the elegant one that shows where I want to be (really heading up, but showing some ups and downs on the way) or the homemade one that shows more of where I am, but looks like a kindergartner did it (well, maybe not my almost 1st grader who still reverses many of her letters).

All feedback welcome!

PS - just back from my first visit to the Grand Canyon. More on that to come.....

Epiphany

Meandering on the trail this evening,
I gaze at my mountain
Off in the distance.
Bathed in the sunset light --
Hues of gold, fuchsia and deep purple.

I stop dead in my tracks
As I notice my mountain
Reflected in the water
At my side --
Hues of gold, fuchsia and deep purple.

In awe, I take it in.
My mountain becomes part of me.
I am inspired by its power
And its beauty --
Hues of gold, fuchsia and deep purple.

Life is Tweet

Photo Credit: William Dalton on Flickr

I just don't get Twitter. I know so many folks who are on it, but I don't get it.

First off, who has the time? I hardly get to my blog, even though I find posting to it helps me psychologically. I hardly get to be in touch with my friends and family. To add something else -- I just can't imagine it.

Second, I'm a pretty darned private person. That's why I'm anonymous on this blog and share it with very few folks.

Third, why do we need it? We have e-mail, and instant messaging and blogs. We have land lines, cell phones and blackberries and iphones. We even have snail mail (though it's barely used by anyone other than advertisers), and the truly old fashioned in-person visit. Don't we have enough ways to be in touch with each other?

BUT, I must admit that I did get quite a thrill when I was noted in a "Tweet," a term I recently learned (for the uninitiated, it means an entry on a person's Twitter account).

Specifically, someone came to my house for dinner tonight and felt compelled to share with all of his friends in Twitterlandia that he had just enjoyed the best sorbet he'd ever had in his life, and that I had made it.

Truth be told (as if I'd have it any other way on this blog), I was a bit offended that he was typing on his blackberry at the dinner table while we were eating dessert, but when he told me what he'd done, I had to laugh. And feel all warm (in spite of the sorbet) and ego-boosted (OK - I know that isn't a word, but it fits me right now) inside.

In case you were curious, it was white nectarine sorbet, and it was both gorgeous to behold and delicious to eat!

Thought to end this post:
"Life is short. East dessert first." Unknown

I miss myself

Photo Credit - LollyKnit - Flickr

It's been too long since I felt like myself (although being bipolar and on meds, I often ask myself what/who "myself" is, really). But whatever/whoever that is, I miss her.

I'm glad I'll be seeing my shrink on Wednesday. Just being in his office makes me feel better.
It starts with the quirky music he has going on XM radio in the waiting room.
I flip the magic switch - the one that lets him know I'm there.
He opens the door, exposing his big smiling face, sunburnt from golfing, beneath a shock of curly white hair.
We exchange pleasantries in Spanish until I am no longer able to hold up my end of the conversation.
Followed by the serious stuff.
My thoughts tumble out between bouts of tears.
His words soothe me in a thick Argentine accent.
He sends me home with a piece of paper.
Instructions.
Because he knows I would probably forget otherwise.

Lately, I've been forgetting a lot of things. Part of why I miss myself. I've forgotten a date with a dear friend. I've forgotten an appointment with my shrink. I've forgotten to pick something up at my MIL's house (just 5 minutes after calling to say I was on my way). AND... for the last two or three posts, I've forgotten a thought to end the post.

So, before I forget this time, too...
A thought to end this post (and in an attempt to be optimistic during this down cycle):
"Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence." - Sholem Asch (1880-1957)

Relay race (a.k.a. tag team parenting)

I'm out of shape from blogging. I've been away from posting for a while and it is just hard to get back to it. But rather than daintily dunk my big toe into the water and walk back to my warm and comfy deck chair, I decided I might as well jump right in (duck - you might get wet).

Photo credit - ♥Sage - Flickr

Seth came back from a week on the other coast for business and having stayed as strong as possible for the week given the demands on us (for me as a parent and for him professionally), we both let down our guards and we BOTH GOT SICK! Bummer.

Peace seems to prevail at the moment, so here I am with the rare opportunity to blog about how we manage when both of us are sick.

I have to raise my hat HIGH to single moms. Because I am not creative enough (perhaps due to lack of necessity) to come up with a better solution to this kind of situation than tag team parenting. It goes something like this....

Seth wakes up with the kids and fixes them breakfast.
Tag.
He goes to work out. I keep the kids from killing each other (in part by making them eat the uneaten food on the kitchen table. That food that they insisted they wanted for breakfast). You come home.
Tag.
I go to the market. Seth sets timers for each child to play with certain lego pieces to ensure that everything is "fair."
Tag.
Seth takes David to a play date. I take Ruth to a birthday party.
Tag.
We meet at a park and I go work out (OK, maybe I don't work out as I should, but this is just for purposes of illustration anyway). We get home and work together on dinner (Seth is a true prince that way) taking turns mediating peace talks between the kids.

Back to reality... Seth has been napping a few hours. When he wakes up, it will be my turn. In the meantime, I feed the kids and myself and make sure the kids don't kill each other.

Oh, I will be SO READY for my nap.

Tag.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ