A rambling examination of the current state of my life

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When people ask how I am doing, I tell them “fine.” It is a true answer, but it is also incomplete. The full answer to how I’m doing is very complicated and takes a long time to tell. So I distill my life down to a single word, because taken on the whole my life is fine.

Harder to answer is when someone asks what I have been up to lately. I have been doing so many things lately that it is hard for me to pick anything to say. They’re all tangled up together and I have trouble articulating what is filling my days so completely. All of my days are full. Even the days when I spend most of my energy avoiding the things I really should be doing. My brain is full. My hours are full. Things I thought would be done by now keep bouncing back, and there are still things I want to add.

On Friday night and Saturday morning Howard and I fell into conflict. He was grouchy because his week had gone awry and his grouchiness impacted me. I went spiraling into the pit of “I can’t do this” where in I lament how I have too many things and I can’t possibly manage it all. One of the things I find highly annoying about emotions is that they have to be expressed and felt, even when a piece of my brain knows that it will all be fine. My meltdown was nicely magnified by knowing that dealing with meltdowns only add stress to everyone involved. Which is why I try not to have them. I know I am doomed to fail. Meltdowns are pretty inevitable, but I do my best to steer, alleviate, and schedule them.

There are people in my life who want more complicated answers when they inquire how I’m doing. They know that I expected September to be a little crazy. We’ve entered October now and I’ve started hearing “So have things settled down for you yet?” I want to be able to give a positive answer. Our family has made so much progress from where we started six weeks ago. We’ve come a long way, and some things really are settling in to nice patterns. Some things have gotten really good and nothing is truly bad. However I don’t feel settled. I don’t feel like my schedule has spaces in it that I can count on. I’m still adjusting and reacting on a daily basis. Some days have lovely spaces of time in which I can contemplate new projects, but the list of projects I have queued up is very long and the projects which are just for me keep getting bumped down the list. I need to qualify that last sentence. All of my projects are mine. I love them all. The projects which get worked on most are the ones who benefit other people as much or more than they do me. I think this is a good way to prioritize and a good way to spend my life. It is just that I am constrained by many simultaneous projects. I don’t want to give up any of them and I want to do more.

Mostly I manage this by suppressing thoughts of the projects for which I don’t have time. My garden is a mess and it will stay that way. I try not to think about writing projects unless I come upon a space in my schedule. Unfortunately writing projects thrive upon back-of-the-brain simmering and the simmering space in my brain is full of other things. I hardly dare hope that I’ll be able to free up the back of my brain. I can think of nothing so likely to cause an emotional meltdown than hoping for something and having it snatched away. So I’m doing the work in front of me.

As I was writing this Howard came into the room to discuss schedule for the evening. I told him that I would start snack time soon. Then I said “And we’ll get to have another week tomorrow.” I meant “start another week” but the way it came out is rather apropos. Each day is so full of things that it feels like a week.

On Saturday Elder Uchtdorf spoke about slowing down and taking time for what matters most. He gave a really good talk. I’m trying to do that. I feel like I’ve been trying to slow down for about two years now. I’ve had some measure of success, but I often feel like I am digging in my heels and being dragged along by all the events I am expected to steer. Some times I have to cut loose and skip things. I am grateful to live a life so full of good social events and friends that I can’t keep up. This has definitely not always been the case in my life.

So how am I doing? Fine. Really. I’m very busy, but most of the busy things are good. I only end up worn out by quantity not by difficulty.

What have I been doing? Stuff for the kids, mostly homework support, and scheduling. Stuff for the business, maintenance work, some revamping of old systems, preparations for upcoming events, and book layout. I’ve also been managing accounting, managing the event booking for both family and business, making new friends, reconnecting with familiar friends, and spending time on family.

Do I have space for calm contemplation or writing? Yes. Sometimes. Those times arrive randomly. I can’t expect them or hope for them. All I can do is try to take advantage of them as they arrive.

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LDS General Conference

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Our church had general conference this weekend. It is ten hours of topical speeches given by the church leadership. These talks are spread out into five two hour sessions over two days and we can view/listen via radio, television, or internet. Today we gathered all the children and hooked a computer up to the big screen so that we could watch. Gleek and Patch cheered out loud when the learned it was conference. They love the feeling of having all of us gathered in one place, listening to good messages, while quietly engaged in various activities.

I still have much to ponder from the things I heard. I’ll need to read the text when it comes out in the church magazine next month. I may also re-watch some of the talks on the internet at LDS.org. The process will help me gain inspiration about my own life. I could use some inspirational clarity. My perspective has felt muddled of late.

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Things going well

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In an effort to look for things which I actually want to find instead of focusing on the things I wish would go away, this entire post will be about the things which are going well.

The before school rush has been chaotic and often frustrating for years. This year it settled right into a regular routine. I do have to expend effort to get Link out of bed, but the other three are getting up fairly quickly and pleasantly. They’ve each picked a breakfast food which they eat every day, removing thought from cooking. Gleek takes a bath every morning without requiring assistance and then gets dressed. In fact all the kids are getting themselves dressed without prodding or intervention from me. They often have significant time to play before it is time to go. This leaves me free to focus on backpacks, lunches, and dishes.

Link makes up for the extra help needed in the morning by requiring no extra help in the afternoon. He comes home and does his clarinet and typing practice. Most days I don’t even have to remind him. He short-cuts on German practice, but is willing to work harder when I point this out.

Gleek has been requesting an earlier bedtime because she wants getting up to be easier.

Kiki has been loving Japanese class and constantly comes home with tales of fun Japanese treats she got to eat. Today she came home with a handful of seeds. They come from a Japanese pear tree and she wants to grow one.

Patch came to me one day and declared that he wanted to buy some lego accessories from an online store. In an effort to earn money, he combed through all his belongings to find things he was willing to get rid of. He also sorted and cleaned. He earned all the necessary money and is now eagerly awaiting the arrival of a package in the mail.

I went out for the evening last night and only got one phone call from the kids at home. They had no major arguements or disagreements. They followed instructions and the two younger children were both in bed asleep before I got home. To top it off, the house was in approximately the same state that it was when I left. They did not make a mess.

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Wildlife at the park

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We expected to find ducks at the park. I’d brought a spare loaf of bread for the purpose of feeding them. We did not expect the full fleet of ducks who converged upon the kids the moment bread was in evidence. Apparently this pond is a favored pit-stop for migratory ducks. The bread disappeared quickly and the children were lured to the table by pizza. However the realization was quickly made that pizza crusts are made of bread and so the children flocked back to the pond for another round of duck feeding.

The adults all sat at the table watching the children and the ducks. We also observed several large dragon flies dive-bombing clouds of midges. The aerial acrobatics were fairly impressive. All wildlife was forgotten for a time when the marshmallow blow guns and stomp rockets were brought out. There was a battle royale, although many of the smaller combatants were observed eating their ammunition.

The evening waned and the sun was retiring when the mice made their presence known. One scurried across the concrete pad and disappeared into a crack far too small to admit a living creature. We set out a small piece of pizza crust near the crack to see if he would emerge again. He did and we were all quite entertained to watch the tiny mouse pull the crust through a too-small hole. The rocks surrounding the duck pond proved to be alive with mice, and so some of the kids went hunting. Many mice were sighted but none were captured.

The mosquitoes made their appearance and that was the cue for the humans to leave. As we loaded the cars, pairs of ducks winged over head toward the sunset. They were headed for the lake to sleep. They’ll be back at the pond in the morning. We won’t be back tomorrow, but we’ll come again sometime soon. The evening was lovely and we need more lovely evenings.

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Seeing Gleek clearly for the first time in weeks

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Gleek entered the kitchen with a purposeful stalk. I worried that somehow the play with friends had gone wrong and she was angry.
“You okay?”

She looked at me, and her face transformed into calm interest. “Just thirsty.” She answered.

I watched her grab her cup and fill it with water. Her hair was windblown, but not rat’s nest tangled. Her clothes marked with the evidence of today’s play and stains from games past. Her calm and confident manner of drinking struck me.

In that moment it was as if a film was stripped from my eyes. My brain was stripped bare of all the speculations of how today’s behaviors will impact her future. All the parental responsibility and worry peeled off. With a sudden and clear sharpness, I suddenly saw Gleek not as a child who needs to be nurtured into an adult, but as a person with a whole personality and existence right now. I really saw her with her oval face and bright eyes startlingly dark compared to her light hair.

She finished her drink and turned to leave.

“Hey.” I said putting my hand out to forestall her departure.

She turned back. And I explained “I think I need a hug.” Gleek tipped her head to the side and then jumped into my arms to give me a Monkey hug with both arms and legs. I held her tight and breathed the scent of her. Then she jumped down and dashed back outside to her friends.

I trailed after and watched for a moment out the window. I tried to find words to encapsulate the wordless gestalt I had in that moment of clarity. My child’s worth is not measured by her future. She is priceless now. Had someone told me this, I would have nodded and said “of course.” It was quite different to have the wordless knowledge resonate through me. To know that I must fully love this person for who she is, despite my ongoing responsibility to help her grow. It is a hard thing. Because in the moment I love a child fully as they are, I am always struck by the knowledge that this person I love will be gone in a year. The nine year old Gleek will be replaced by a 10 year old who will be much the same, but also different. In my heart I hold a small measure of grief for the toddler Gleek who is forever gone.

And so I need to repeat and elaborate upon the statement I made before.

My child’s worth is not measured by her future or her past. It is separate from my hopes and fears. She is priceless just as she is.

I want to sear the words into my brain so that I will not forget. And I need to apply the same statement not only to all of my children, but to all people. My love should not be contingent or come with expectations attached. It is a frightening and beautiful thought. I shall endeavor to try.

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Link’s Clothes

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On Sunday morning Link’s pants did not fit. They were tight the week before, but this Sunday Link could not make them button. Not even remotely. A flurry of clothes testing determined that he’d outgrown all of his jeans as well. We didn’t notice because he wore shorts all week. This kind of growth is not unexpected in a 13 year old boy, but it presented something of a problem only 20 minutes before church. In the end wore a pair of Howard’s pants and a belt to cinch in the bagginess.

Pants shopping was imperative. Link had been wanting new clothes anyway. He has decided that the most appropriated attire for junior high school is a red shirt and blue jeans. He declared that I should get him ten pairs of jean shorts, ten pairs of jeans, and ten red shirts. As it was he was wearing the same red shirt and jean shorts a bit too often. I declined to promise clothes in that quantity, but planned a shopping trip.

Most of my kids clothing growing up has been hand-me-down or purchased by me when they were not present. I just don’t like taking kids into stores when I need to browse and ponder. It gives them too much time to want things that I don’t want to pay for. Link’s new-found interest in what he wears meant that it was time to begin involving him in the purchase decisions about his clothing. In the process of walking him through the aisles to select clothes, I realized how overdue his education in clothes shopping has become. He was fascinated and a little confused to realize that I expected him to try on the clothes before we bought anything. After the first set of ill-fitting clothes he could see the importance.

We emerged triumphant. Two pair of jeans, 1 jean short, 2 church pants, and 3 red shirts. It is a far cry from his original plan, but has a chance of actually fitting into his drawers. I love that he is growing up and developing an understanding of the social nuances of clothing and personal hygiene. And we bought the pants a touch long, because then next thing he’ll do is grow two inches when my back is turned.

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Scheduling next year

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About two weeks ago Howard and I took a good look at all the events scheduled for the next 18 months and realized that 2011 is full. When I say “full” I do not mean that we have things scheduled for every week or every month. Some months are entirely empty. However the empty months are either preceded or followed by a decidedly not-empty month. For the sake of our sanity we declared that no big events, such as conventions) could be added.

Our resolve is already being challenged. New opportunities have begun to pop up and we are sorely tempted to add them to the schedule. So I stare at the calendar again to see if the new thing can fit. Next year’s calendar has fixed points like conventions we have already committed to, or the family vacation which has a definite date. The calendar also has probable fixed points, which are events we want to do, but have not actually committed to yet. What is not on the calendar are book releases. I know that next year will contain two within the first 6 months, but I do not know exactly where they will fall. This is another reason to keep those empty spaces.

So I stand in front of the calendar and I discuss with Howard. I list the concerns. Howard lists the advantages. We talk about how the new event will affect all the currently scheduled events. We discuss similar events in the past and what would be required to do this one the same or better. It is our little prognostication ritual by which we attempt to peer into the future and decide what is best for us, for the business, for our family. The decisions are not easy.

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Finding what I look for

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Sometime last week I read a news article which talked about how Justin Bieber had started a fashion trend of bangs swept to the side. I read the article with amusement because I had never seen this particular hairstyle anywhere else. In the week since reading the article, I’m seeing that haircut on heads all over town. I’m pretty sure that the incidence of Justin Bieber haircuts has not increased dramatically since last week. What changed is that I started paying attention and knew enough to recognize what I was seeing. This phenomenon is common and happens to me all the time. I study literature and the world is more filled with literary references. I start researching a certain type of car, or phone, or bicycle, and it seems that everyone else already has one exactly like it.

I’m pondering this today as I consider all the focused attention I’ve been giving to parenting. I’ve been looking for areas that need work, and, not suprisingly, I’ve found them. The truth is that no matter how much I plan, schedule, and work there will always be things I could do better. The more I focus on those things which are slightly askew, the more of them I see. It spirals in closer and closer until the problems obscure the joyful things about my children.

I need to figure out ways to take a step back and get some perspective. I need to back off and see if the problems really are as big and omnipresent as they have been feeling lately. I suspect they aren’t. I suspect I am seeing mountains when what is actually present are foothills.

I’ll find what I am looking for. I need to make sure that some of what I am looking for are reasons to feel joyful in the amazing children I have.

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The child who is fine 90% of the time

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I like reading articulate and thoughtful blogs from mothers whose kids are going through challenges similar to mine. I like knowing that Howard and I are not the only ones who struggle. Today over at wouldashoulda.com Mir said this:

Both Otto and I explained the constant heartbreak involved in keeping him [her son with Aspergers] okay. The judgment from others, because 90% of the time he looks like every other kid, and when the 10% of situations where he simply cannot keep himself together hit, it’s obvious that onlookers wonder what egregious failure of parenting has resulted in such unacceptable behavior. It’s better, I assured them, than when he struggled more often. Of course it is. But the less he struggles, the harder the remaining struggles are, simply because others believe he “should” be able to handle it. After all, he’s fine most of the time, right?

I think Mir’s son’s issues are more severe than Gleek’s but that is exactly how it feels. Everyone in our family has learned how to adjust and manage. Her teacher and I communicate regularly. Most of the time it all works. Except when it doesn’t. Out of all of us, I think Gleek works the hardest. I want to cry on the days when I know exactly how impossible it is for her to keep it together, but I still have to apply consequences. Skipping the consequences does no one any good. She needs to know where the limits are. She needs to know that nothing she does will move those limits. Firm limits are reassuring and make the next incident less likely to happen. Knowing these things does not make the hard day any easier.

Today has not been a hard day. So far it has been a good one. Over the last weekend we’ve been going through a book about ADHD together. The resulting conversations have been very illuminating for both of us. It is just that this post from Mir made me look and see how much effort has become invisible through long habit. Parenting Gleek is a frequently exhausting task, but not nearly so exhausting as being Gleek. She constantly amazes me with her strength and endurance.

Edited to add: After writing this post I did some reading of blogs written by mothers with autistic and disabled children. Now I feel compelled to note that on the grand scale of things I have nothing to complain about. My fatigue is nothing compared to theirs.

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Getting the hang of Saturdays

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Nearly the first thing I did yesterday morning was to jot down some notes for a blog entry about how I’m having trouble getting the hang of Saturdays. But the day proceeded and I never had time to write it out. In fact I got all my stuff done in time for Howard and I to escape the house and have dinner with some other local writers. It was a wonderful event full of laughter and good conversation. As a result I wrote nothing at all and left a semi-discouraged note up for a whole extra day even though the day itself turned out quite well. Oops.

Since the analysis contained in my notes about getting the hang of Saturdays is still valid and interesting to me, I am going to do a write up from the notes anyway.

The first problem with Saturday morning is that I want to sleep late. I actually need the extra sleep since I tend to run on a sleep deficit during the rest of the week. My desires to sleep hit the first snag when the iPod alarms go off with their wake-up play lists. The one in our room is not much of a problem because we have a remote. However I’ve also set one on the iPod in the kitchen. On school days the play list helps the kids time their mornings so that they’re on schedule. In theory we can turn these off, but I always forget to. I think part of my brain is afraid that if I turn them off on Saturday, I’ll forget to reset them for Monday.

The morning music is the least of the troubles. I want to sleep in, but I want the kids to wake up on their regular schedule. If the younger two sleep late, it is harder to get them to go to bed that night. I’ve worked really hard to get their bio rhythms adjusted and I don’t want to send it askew. So in theory I should just get up at the same time as I do all week so that our schedule remains intact. But I love the sleep in. In the end the kids usually wake up about an hour later than normal and then they go play video games while I sleep longer.

This pattern does not generally include breakfast except what the kids decide to feed to themselves. Usually they do a pretty good job, no one goes hungry, but without an official breakfast no one has a marker for the beginning of the day. The kids don’t have a set point for when they should do their chores. When I groggily wander down stairs half the morning is gone and the kids are all fully engaged in activities where they will object to being interrupted. Chores are easier to swallow if you don’t have to stop doing something fun in order to do them. At this point I usually decide not to interrupt happily playing children to fight over chores. Instead I wander into my office to do a “little bit of work.”

Then suddenly it is noon, I’m still in my pajamas, and kids’ friends are knocking on the door to ask if my kids can play. (Their parents got them up, fed them breakfast, and focused their mornings so their chores are all done.) I look at the kid on my front step and I have a bare moment to decide whether to just let my kids go or to enforce chores first. The easy path is so easy. It really is. But I feel a vague guilt as I look at my not-so-clean house and worry that I’m not teaching them the housekeeping habits they will need.

I look at my Saturdays and feel that I ought to plan something better, more structured. Then I turn it all upside down and look at it again. The weeks are made of structure. Every day (except Saturday) I know exactly when to get them up in the morning. I have songs to measure out when breakfast should be, when Kiki leaves, when Link leaves, when Gleek and Patch leave. Even while they’re gone I’ve planned my days and run them by task list. Then they come home at we all hit schedule marks for play, homework, dinner, and evening stuff. Saturdays are all squishy and free-form. And maybe we need that.

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