Author name: Sandra Tayler

Sleep debt comes due

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I gave up on trying to work when I snapped awake to discover that I’d laid my head down on my desk and fallen asleep while waiting for my computer to process. Since the process in question took less than a minute, I’m guessing sleep hit as soon as my head was down. I’ve been on a roll all week long, moving steadily and shorting myself on sleep. I guess my body decided to call in the sleep debt. Which is fine. I’m not exactly on vacation, but we’re definitely in a vacation rhythm around here. So this weekend will have extra sleeping in it. Then next week can have extra organizing and cleaning. Then there will be Christmas.

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Pictures from my dorm room walls

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Among the things I located in yesterday’s paper sorting was a file folder full of pictures that I once used to decorate the wall of my college dorm room. The walls of the dorm were painted cinder block and we were forbidden to do anything which would damage the paint. In order to make the room feel more welcoming than a jail cell, most of us plastered the walls with posters, clippings, and other cheerful things. I did the same during my first year. My second year of college was transformative for me. I was going through a conscious process of claiming adulthood and defining myself. I did not put just anything amusing on my walls. Instead I carefully sought out images which I felt were truly reflective of who I was. I collected pictures as the months progressed. Some came from magazines or cards. Others were carefully photocopied from books. I hung the pictures carefully, neatly. Then half way through the year I re-hung everything on diagonals creating dynamic angles. Howard had entered my life and completely rearranged the way I pictured my future. My dorm walls echoed my internal insecurity. At the end of the year I took them all down and carefully stowed them in a file folder. I married Howard and became absorbed in creating a communal life with him. He did the same. Our walls were hung with things that reflected us both.

Yesterday I opened the file and carefully flipped through the pictures. A wash of feeling wafted to me from the pages. The images stored echoes of that definitive stage of my life. The room I used to live in came back to me. I remembered the wooden crate I used as an end table, the way my roommate and I rearranged the furniture in a non-standard format that felt more home-like to us. I remember that for the first time I was sharing space with a roommate that I’d deliberately chosen rather than one to whom I had been assigned. We had a lot of fun and some over-stressed arguments, but it was a really good time. The pictures carried all that, and they spoke to me. “Remember. This is who you are. You were this person before you were a mother, a wife, a business manager. You still are this person.”

I have no desire to go back to dorm room days. I like who I am. I like everything I have learned along the way. Besides, a lot of the ground between there and here was really unpleasant to travel. I’d rather not cross it again. But in my heart and mind that dorm room exists and the things that happened there are a part of me. The self-definition I did there is the foundation of who I am now. Looking at the pictures helps me see that I’m at another point of self-definition. With this office reorganization I am going to have a space that is truly mine. I can arrange it and decorate it however I will. And I think I will pull out some of these college pictures and hang them again. The decision carries with it a little bit of fear. It was so joyous to find this pocket of memory. I want to hoard it away so that its power will not dissipate. But on the whole, I think that having a visual reminder on my wall will be good. “This is who you were, and still are.”

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Office Cleaning Continues

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I sorted through 15 years worth of filed papers today. I ended up with five boxes of paper that could just be pitched and a huge stack of paper which needed to be shredded before it could be pitched. It turns out that 10 years worth of bank statements fills four garbage bags when shredded. Part of my brain rebelled at the wanton destruction of data that the shredding represented. An analysis of all those papers would tell worlds about our life and habits during that era. The rebellious thoughts were squelched by remembering that during all of those years I have been entering all that data into Quicken. I have it all in digital form where it can rapidly be turned into reports. There is no reason to keep storing the paper.

Disposing of garbage paper was only part of the benefit of this project. I unearthed many hidden treasures and have now organized them so that I can find them again as needed. Memorabilia is all filed together as are health documents and contracts. I also have a big stack of file folders which are available for reuse. A piece of my brain is happy knowing that I’ve collected fragments of writing and family stories together. Someday I’ll put together a book out of it all. Not this year though. I need to finish cleaning my office and then use the space to continue working on all the other lingering projects in my life.

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Starting in the corners

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My front room is a mess. It has been a mess since some time before Thanksgiving. I don’t like it when my living spaces are a mess, and I’ve been sorely tempted to clean it up by shoving stuff elsewhere. I don’t because that is what I’ve been doing ever since school started and at this point “elsewhere” is full. Last week I finally had space in my brain to try to figure out how to clean up the front room. In order to do it, I had to start in my office. This makes sense when you realized that “elsewhere” is usually in the middle of my office. This continues until my office is impassible. Which it was.

So I began to clean my office. Unfortunately many of the things in the middle of my office had been stuffed there because they simply did not have other places to belong. All the stowing spaces in my office and storage room are full. Half of what they are filled with is the wrong stuff. Things I use regularly reside in piles and under other things while things I no longer need sit neatly on easily accessible shelves. Reorganization is in order. So yesterday I began. I am going through my office shelf by shelf and evaluating everything. I’m putting things where they will be readily useful. This is not going to be a quick process. I expect it to take weeks.

Yesterday I finally accepted that my office needs to be an office instead of also doubling as a guest room. I set up a permanent shrink wrapping and paper cutting desk. Now there is not room for me to put an inflatable bed in here for guests. I am sad, because I like being a good hostess and giving guests their own space, but this makes much more sense on a daily basis.

Today I began going through the four drawer file cabinet. All the drawers are stuffed full and I intend to look at almost every paper in there. I already have two garbage bags full of shredded out-dated documents. The world will not suffer for me shredding old utility bills. I keep the tax related stuff back 7 years, but I’ve saved so much garbage paper. It wasn’t garbage when I stowed it carefully away, but it is now. Soon I’ll be able to re-think the organization in those cabinet drawers. I’m hoping to be able to stow writing notes in the newly created spaces.

Onward I will head to the cubby holes and shelves. Then into the storage room. I will haul garbage bags out. I will have a stack of things to give away or donate. In the end I will have space and the supplies I need ready to be used. It is going to be good to have an office that I am able to vacuum.

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When slowing down is a mirage

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On Monday I wrote about how my life was slowing down just when most people are speeding up for the holidays. I was mistaken. I worked calmly and steadily through Monday and Tuesday. They were good days and I was able to feel happy about my life and the things that are in it. By Wednesday it became apparent that while “calm and steady” is a good emotional state, it was not keeping up with the deluge of tasks.

I gave last week to the Church Christmas party. This week was supposed to be about finding my balance and setting the house back in order. Instead the week was about hundreds of small things that had become urgent when I wasn’t looking. It was also about tripping over stuff and shoving it into odd corners so that I could pay attention to the task at hand. The result is all jumbled up. My office and work room are in such a state that I’m constantly having to move boxes (or papers, or packaging) in order to get to the books (or papers, or packaging) that I need. I need to do a thorough reorganization, but I’ve been too busy chasing urgent tasks.

Adding to the mix, my two daughters are each having a rough time this week. They each need my full attention to help them sort through and find solutions. And I have little energy or attention to spare.

We’ll sort it all out. I just wanted it to be sorted this week instead of next. I’m constantly hoping that a big effort today will allow me to relax in the future. I’m chasing a mirage, and I haven’t yet figured out how to stop. At least Howard met his achievement goals for the week. The buffer is healthy again.

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Things discovered in the last 24 hours

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Kiki’s teacher expects a lot more than Kiki thought on the major project of the year. There was panic.

When Kiki’s work on the major project is assembled, she has more than enough. Now she just has to fill in the gaps.

Having $1000 lay out and design tools is a major help for history projects.

Toasted London broil roast beef sandwiches dipped in broth are really yummy.

Our cat will pounce on dice if we roll them along the floor. Much giggling.

Gleek’s little fuzzy caterpillar on a string toy is a perfect cat toy.

Gleek loves her little fuzzy caterpillar on a string and has a really hard time sharing it with her brothers.

I need to stay focused on the kids before school rather than getting distracted by hauling boxes of books from the car.

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Clash of the Emotional Crises

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Today has been a fairly good day. True, Kiki was a little emotionally fragile, but she handled it well. This is often the case when one person is emotionally off balance. The real excitement begins when two or three or six of us are all teetering, trying to hang on to rationality with the tips of our fingernails, and crashing into each other. We’ve had more than our fair share of crashing emotional conflicts this fall. The feminist in me is frustrated to admit that most of them centered around one or more of the females in our house. I do not think that this is due to our female-ness. We’re just the ones struggling to find balance. Howard has struggled a bit too. My sons are both ensconced in secure places and I pray that they stay there until the rest of us get sorted out.

Kiki’s frustration this evening is centered around her art. She feels stuck and all the solutions she can see require time (which she does not have to spare) or money (which she does not have at all.) She curled up in my lap and spilled her woes. I sat and listened, doing my best to just accept her feelings without feeling guilty for not fixing the problem. The minute I begin thinking about how I ought to have done something differently so that Kiki wouldn’t feel stuck, I have preempted her emotional experience and turned it into something which is about me. (Yes I do that. Far too often.) The conversation wended around in circles for a bit. Then I said:
“You know, the fact that we’re having this conversation means that things have already begun to get better. You have time and energy enough to feel frustrated, which is an improvement over the way things have been lately.”
Kiki quirked her eyebrows at me the way she does when I’ve said something for which she has no context. “That’s a weird way of looking at it.”

I suppose it is, but it also feels true. I feel like I’ve finally reached a place where life can slow down a little. We have whole weeks where we don’t host Clash of the Crises Part N. I finally have space in my brain to anticipate and head off the imbalances before they reach crisis level. I can organize the house and plan. Though I confess that my plans did not start with defrosting the freezer that was left open over night by someone undetermined. My plans are destined to be rearranged and that is okay too.

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Savoring the holiday

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All around me are people whose lives have begun to speed up as the holiday season kicks into gear. They’ve got calendars filled with events and task lists full of things. My life has just done the opposite. I finally have time to catch my breath after the break neck pace I’ve been running. November was full of frantic must-get-ready-for-the-holidays both on business tasks and for the church Christmas party.

(ASIDE: I successfully planned, managed, and catered a dinner party with a program and activities for 280 people. This still blows me away. Also: 130 pounds of ham is a lot. The smell of ham lingers on hands despite repeated washings. And thank heavens for neighbors who have crockpots to help cook hams when it won’t all fit into the church ovens.)

Now all the hurry to get ready is done. There are still things to do. Our tree isn’t fully decorated yet. Not a single present is wrapped, although many of them were acquired during the November preparatory flurry. But the things that are left are things I’m content to savor.

Last year I stage managed the perfect Christmas for my family. I even mentally composed a blog post which talked about how to engineer a Christmas to maximize joy and avoid the tantrums and disappointments which often accompany the holidays. I had it all noted down, ready to write. But at the appointed writing hour on Christmas afternoon, supposedly the pinnacle of perfect Christmas triumph, I sat down on the couch and cried. Looking back, I recognize exactly what happened. It is the same thing that happened after the Halloween Carnival in October and last Saturday when the Christmas party was over. To run these events I extended myself, used up all my reserves of energy and then some. It caught up to me and I sat limply without any easy-to-see measure of success. When I run myself ragged for a book shipping, I know I have succeeded because of the packages. Creating an event for other people is far less tangible. So while I sit, too tired to move, my brain starts picking at the things I feel I could have done better. At that beyond-tired moment it is impossible for me to believe I succeeded.

This is why the only assignment I gave to Howard for the Christmas party was to take care of the kids and to tell me I did a good job when it was all over. He did exactly that, and it worked. I collapsed and he was rested, ready to take care of me.

I have another Christmas ahead of me. I’m going to use the lessons I’ve learned this year, particularly those about delegation. Christmas is a community-created event. Our family works together to bring it into existence. In years past I did all the planning and gave everyone their cues. I declare the day for tree assembly and decoration, then I exert energy to make it occur. I decide, then I make it happen. Most everyone else floats along on the current of my making.

I’m doing things differently this year. We put up the tree a week ago because Howard needed a Christmas tree. The ornaments came out yesterday because Patch wanted to do ornaments. Rather than declaring an official ornament time, I just opened the box and the kids have been putting them on as the mood strikes. The same has occurred with the other decorations. Rather than one big expendature of effort, we’ve had lots of pleasant little moments. We’re savoring the holiday instead of hurrying to get everything out so we can “enjoy it.” I spend too much of my life hurrying now with the intent to relax later.

I’m curious to see how long it will be before the kids ask to wrap the presents they’ve selected for each other. I wonder if waiting until they are concerned (rather than me wanting “wrap presents” out of my brain) will make a difference in how they feel about the gifts they are giving. I wonder if involving them more in the process of creating the holiday will result in something whole and good, without being picture perfect. It will certainly be interesting, and it sounds so appealing after all the planning and managing that I have been doing lately.

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Loose thoughts

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I have reached the point in Church party preparations where nearly everything is done. What remains is food prep, and due to the perishable nature of food, most of that has to be done tomorrow. In the absence of things to prepare, my brain has resorted to exploring possible ways that things could go wrong. This means it is time for distraction. So here are some non-party (or at least only tangentially party-related) things for the last couple of days.

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At bedtime Patch likes to spend some time talking. First I listen to him tell about his day, then he will ask about mine. Yesterday my brain was so full of planning that I couldn’t even begin to form a coherent story about my day.
“I’m sorry kiddo. My head is too full of things and I need to not lose them.”
Patch nodded in complete understanding and lay with me in contented silence. He knows exactly what it is like to have a head full of important thoughts.

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On Wednesday night I was triple booked with a junior high band concert, directing the young women’s group in decoration construction, and a writer’s group hosted at our house. I finished up the other things and finally was able to collapse in a chair for writer’s group. Then it was my turn to critique and I amused everyone greatly by having extremely fractured thoughts. The thoughts were good ones, once I could gather them together. But if anyone spoke while I was gathering my thoughts it was like a rock landing in the middle of a puddle. The thoughts fractured and scattered and I had to begin the process of collecting them anew. With much laughter I eventually was able to communicate.

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Yesterday morning I realized that once I manage to drag the kids out of bed, they get themselves ready for school on schedule. This represents a huge improvement over the many years when I had to constantly nag at each step of the process. I’m not sure why that is working this year when it never did before, but I am grateful.

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Link has been playing roller coaster tycoon. (or maybe Sim Coaster) His money making strategy is to lure lots of visitors into his park. Then he blocks the park exit with construction and removes all the bathrooms. When the park visitors are beginning to be a little frantic, he’ll construct a single bathroom. The visitors have to pay to use this bathroom. Also they can only get to it by first riding a very expensive roller coaster.

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My dreams have been full of party preparations, which makes sense since my days have been as well. I had one dream which hit upon every possible failure point for the event. When I woke up, I used the dream as a tool for re-checking my preparations. 28 hours from now I will know what worked and what didn’t.

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I’ve been watching Babylon 5 as a distraction. I haven’t seen it before. It definitely suffers from age a little, particularly in the first season. Everyone tells me that the first season is awful, but that it has useful information. I beg to differ. Any necessary information contained in the first season will be recapped later, save the pain and start at the beginning of season two. In season two I actually started caring about the characters and being interested in the story that the series is building. It definitely does some things which are not often done in an ongoing television series.
Two annoyances:
1. back story is handled badly, usually by having a character sit down and tell it to another character “I have a back story, let me tell you it.” This is getting better, hopefully I’ll stop rolling my eyes on this by Season three.
2. Anger is an over used emotion. No matter what happens, someone gets angry and shouts about it. I much prefer a more nuanced emotional landscape, particularly from people who are supposed to be diplomats.
We’ll see what the second half of season two and onward provide.

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