Of palms and breath ...

Have you had your palms read?

Back in Malaysia, I found out about someone who did deep intense readings. Unlike the image here, what she did was ink your hands, then press them onto paper, in order to properly see all the details. If you follow the image source link you'll see what I mean.

Image source here

I saw her twice.

Among the few things I remember:

• there were three children lines, but she peered closely at them I guess one of them was not like the others, since she speculated one of the lines signified my niece. She was newly born, I think? Maybe I was going to see her (niece) for the first time on the way back to the US via Switzerland? 
• success would come easily / I would be successful at a career that involved a lot of traveling and meeting people. At that point in time I harbored the thought that I might have a book to write. Crap, was it going to happen? Would the traveling be for book signings? Would the people be readers/fans? The socially awkward introvert me cringed. I ended up abandoning the book, for many reasons. In the back of my mind, I wondered about this part of the reading...

Almost a decade later, it occurred to me that the reading was pretty accurate, just... off by a few years. When did it occur to me? As I was driving to Springfield from BloNo, a trip I've done so often over the past two years, and even more so this year. I'd mentioned in the previous post that one of my sanity savers was getting into Shamanic Breathwork (TM). I threw myself into it, attending pretty much every workshop I could, most of them 3-day events involving making sure Kosh was NOT working / on call those days, making sure I had someone on standby in case the school "had issues." I would drop the kids off on a Friday morning then rush to Springfield then not be home till Sunday night. Oh yeah, after my first intense weekend where I found myself weeping within minutes of having left the workshop and facing a long commute home, I decided I needed to push past my comfort zone and ask for help from fellow attendees for a roof over my head / a place to crash for subsequent events.

Image source here

I'm not sure if this is my "career" but it's certainly my focus for the past couple of years; my mental health. And the biggest reason I've come as far as I have is not just the breathwork, but the community that practices it. My tribe, really.

Perhaps this is what was seen in my palms?

Part of me really wants to go back to Malaysia and consult her again. I would have to hope she's not moved office, though, because I can't remember her name, and her contact info is in a non-functioning phone. Who knows when my next trip would be, anyway. Lordy. THAT's another blog post right there... the big trip on 2013, which was the last straw of my mental health. Gah!

Here we go again...

Today is the first day of summer vacation.

My firstborn, known online as Nova or Thing 1, had an amazing 2nd Grade. It was his first year in a Special Education class and a different school than our neighborhood "home" school. My second-born, known online as Nev or Thing Two, had an incredibly tumultuous year, but also ended it on a great note, thankfully. It's amazing what the correct supports can do!

My last blog post was almost two years ago.

When I review my life, I tend to compartmentalize it all. For my childhood, I only have a feel for how old I am based on which house we lived in at the time. Adult life was defined by where I was working. Married life also defined by where we were staying. Then came kids, and it all became a blur: we were in Springfield, then moved to Bloomington-Normal, but I am hard-pressed to tell you when we made the huge ... considering we bought a house, you'd think I'd remember the year, right? Nope. Blur.

But.

May 2017, less than a month after that last blog post, I have seared in my head. Some things I had been squelching finally hit the fan. I was thrown into a major crisis. My mental health was severely taxed.

And.

I dug deep. Reached out. Dragged myself to one Shamanic Breathwork (TM) session, then another, then another. Interviewed therapist after therapist after therapist. Leaned in. And stubbornly took one step after another.

Today I am in a much better place, mentally, than I have ever been.

I still struggle, of course. I utterly suck at daily self-care type things. I am always buffeted and swept away by the kids and their needs.

But it's now summer vacation.

This blog post is one of my ways to get my daily self-care in.

I am determined to get a post a day in over the next couple of weeks.

Get the writing, and creativity, flowing again.

See you tomorrow?

It's been a while...

It's been so long.

Here's what's been going on. I had one kid, then another. Thing One / Nova was my first ever exposure to a kid. I'd never changed a diaper until he came along, and even then I deferred to the hubs or the NICU nurses before I forced myself to overcome that ?fear?.

He is my first. So I always wondered during tough times, was it just me? Or was it also him?

Turns out, it was us both.

Thing One and mommy, about a week ago

He starts First Grade this August. He's currently being (re-)evaluated for an IEP (Individualised Education Plan). ADHD. ODD. ASD. SPD. The journey to these labels was a long one. And still ongoing because I don't think we have it quite right yet. But the labels help. I fought against getting labels. But now I seek them. Anything to help understand. Never in a million years would I have foreseen me medicating my kids. Yet here I am, seeking new meds, getting him a genetic test that should help identify which medications should help him, since the usual suspects seem to lose effectiveness.

So we can help him figure himself out.
So I don't keep reacting to him.
So I can be calm and supportive and nurturing.

Instead of the momster I found myself to be.

Turns out, if you have unresolved issues from childhood, and you have kids, well, those issues are going to make themselves known. 

me today, crying on the kitchen floor

Long story short: I suspect I too have some of his labels. And that they were beaten out of me and/or slapped into submission. I now accept my own labels of depression and anxiety. I have been seeking help. I know I am healing.

But I sure wish healing could take place in a vacuum.

I have missed writing/blogging. It kept me sane(r) way back when. Been trying to get back into it. Damn Facebook gets most of my thoughts.

Today I will try to shift my attention here more.

I hope to see you again.

A scare!

That was so weird.

There was an email from Blogorama saying they indexed my recent post ""Morning Joe" cuts off painful interview with Florida Governor for avoiding questions about Trump and Muslims" - wha?

So I check this blog, and mis-type the address. It doesn't load, and the anti-virus program is flagging the site, and I am in So. Much. Anguish thinking I've lost my blog to hijackers..

Then I notice the typo!

PHEW it still exists (not used since August last year? Oooops!!!)

Deep breath.

I head over to Blogorama and find out the blogs they have associated with that email were the today dot com ones that don't exist anymore, and haven't existed for many years. So told them to delete me/them from their directory.

All should be fine now.

.... but sheesh. That scared me.

Once upon a time I juggled another personality -- or rather, I allowed a part of me out more. The "writer/alter ego" part of me. The one who published deeply personal look-backs on my past (well before I ever started therapy and found out I needed to work through many suppressed emotions, memories of my childhood). The one who was as creative as could be, and had fun with a Tooth Fairy peeing on kids' mouths (seriously) in order to make their teeth rot. The one who had a great book idea, but realised she was actually rewriting her childhood and whatever did get written was never going to be published. Peeks into peeks into my creativity when those juices were flowing pretty well and I dared entertain the idea of being a writer. A while back, in order to consolidate/reduce number of things in general, whatever I posted as that persona, I unpublished, saved as draft to THIS blog, and deleted her home.

So if I had lost THIS blog, I would have lost HER work.
My work.
Her work.
I've not thought about her in a long time.

Hi Willow.

Frozen, Inc

We are totally late to the fandom. On purpose. Only introduced the kids (3 & 4 yo now) to Frozen maybe 6 weeks ago.

Of course, they are now Anna and Elsa.

Last weekend, they got a fantastic treat -- they acually got to MEET Anna and Elsa :)

Then we introduced them to Monsters, Inc because, well, let's not keep watching Frozen, right??

So now they are *also* Kitty and Boo. Today Nova built a "door" (more like doorWAY), for Kitty and Boo to go through.

Gotta love their imaginations!

Bedtime

How the ideal evening has to go, for all our sanity's sake:

By 4.30: pick up Nev

By 5: home, potty

5.30/6pm : dinner

7pm: potty, jammies

7.30: storytime

7.50: last call (water, potty)/ last book

8pm: close the door 

Hard-learned schedule, that one. Leave a LOT of buffer. But try to have a good half hour of stories.

Unfortunately, ANYthing that threatens the above -- like beautiful weather that invites us to hit the park before dinner, therefore throwing it all off by an hour or so -- will make me all twitchy, even with the post-dinner buffer.

Yesterday I was prepared, so "pre-dinner" cheese, veggie pouch were part of the "get back to the car" enticement at the playground. Home at 6. Still closed the door on them at 8-ish.

Today, we have some family fun activities as Nova's school, smack in the middle of the dinner routine. Thinking to do something similar to yesterday.

May have to save my daily caffeination for the afternoon, rather than morning....!!!

Coulda been

Four years ago today, it could have been Nova's birthday. 

I was 31 weeks pregnant, only just starting to think about what we were going to need for his (its, at that point -- I'd been refusing to know) arrival, and the powers that be decided to make things ...exciting...

Thankfully he stayed put, until invited out 3 weeks later. 

Glad he wasn't this big then ;)