The rain is pouring down right now. It makes for a cozy and quiet feeling. The kiddos are all watching movies, DH is working (from home YAY!) and I am looking for things to fill the hours today. I am still trying to recuperate from the trip to the museum day before yesterday. I really wanted to get to the library today but, alas, it wasn't in the cards. We still have a few hours left until dinner and the library happens to be open late tonight, so maybe we will have an evening field trip. Who knows?
I do know that I need to make sure the girls get out of the house as much as they can. Since I have been having a high pain/low energy week, the girls have had to be extra patient and understanding about finding things to keep themselves occupied. This has led to the typical problems you'd expect from a group of girls like them. When you are dealing with a case of Cabin Fever, all the little aspects of each others personalities are amplified - especially the ones that get on your nerves. LH is more antsy, impatient, and possessive of her personal items ("GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF!) TD is full of energy that doesn't have an outlet so she seems to be a bundle of waving arms and legs - even when she is sitting "still." (MOOOOOOOM! She kicked me! No I didn't! I was just stretching!) EG has been keeping things (especially her bedroom) as clean as possible, even checking on her room several times a day to be sure nothing is out of place. Believe me, I am not complaining. It's just that it can be hard to referee an argument when one girl wants to clean the room while the other wants to play with the toys she just pulled out. She also has more time to think and for her, that means more time to worry. She is at the "What If?" stage and she is having a hard time handling the way she imagines the outcome of things.
Last night was a perfect example. DH and I were getting them into bed and kissing them all goodnight when he asked them please to be careful of the left side of his face. He has an abscessed tooth that is causing quite a lot of pain, not just in his mouth but all the way into his ear and all across the side of his head. When he explained this to the girls (in an effort to request more quiet and less arguing at bedtime) EG burst into tears. She was so overcome with worry for her Daddy that she couldn't keep it in. What DH said was, "My tooth hurts a lot and it is causing the rest of the side of my head to hurt too. I have been to the dentist and it will be better soon, but I will have to have the tooth removed and I won't be able to chew for awhile."
What EG HEARD was that he would not be able to EAT so he would not have any energy and he might die. No sooner had I calmed her down about that when TD (trying to help) mentioned that when the dentist removed Daddy's tooth, they would put him to sleep so he wouldn't feel it. That started a whole new spout of waterworks. Apparently, she had heard a bad association with the term "put to sleep" and while I don't know if she really knew why, she was even more fearful. "No, no, " I told her. "They will probably just give him a few shots that won't hurt much at all and then they will take out his tooth when he is numb."
Now she was choked up because Daddy would be losing a GROWN-UP tooth, and don't you know, Mommy, you only get one set and he won't grow a new tooth! Amazingly enough, she didn't really calm down until I described, in detail, exactly what would happen during the tooth extraction, recovery, and after he gets a replacement for his tooth. She wanted to be sure that no one would hurt Daddy and that he would be able to act normal after everything was done. How do you look into those gigantic blue eyes overflowing with tears and say, "Just go to bed already! I'm tired!"
Now, I understand the melt down was due at least as much to fatigue and too much time on her hands as it was real concern for her father, but it is still so moving to know how much she worries. It isn't just about her father, either. Last year, her class was talking about feelings and how they affect us. They talked about happy and sad, and they also talked about concern, worry, and fear. Every child wrote a sentence and drew a picture of something they were worried about. It was the most revealing assignment any of my kids has ever been given. EG's sentence was simply, "I worry that my big sister will die." and she drew a picture of LH in a hospital bed with a bandage on her chest. Whew! Talk about a tear jerker!
Of all the emotions my kids show to me, Worry is perhaps the hardest to deal with. Fear is usually about the Fantastical, so it is easy to dismiss or explain it away. (The monster under the bed will not be there if you clean your room because they like to eat dust bunnies. No dust bunnies = no monster.) Worry is about the Unknown Future - What If? It is much bigger and harder to manage. My kids (because of their scary analytical brains) started the worry stage of the What If's a lot earlier than they should. LH has a hard time trying new things - What if I don't like it? TD is more of a specific worry wart - What if BBD gets lost when he runs out the door and can't find his way home? EG has the most broad What If skill of all of them - What if something happens to my family?
One one hand, I really wish they would stop being such worry warts. Did they learn it from me? Do I worry too much and that habit rubbed off on them? Is it just because they are as scary smart as they are? Should I be concerned about it? What if it is a sign that they have some sort of OCD problem? Will this get worse and prevent them from living a normal life?
Ok, fine. You got me. I guess I know where they get it from after all. I guess I need to lighten up a bit?
Debbie "Worry Wart" Lollar
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
In the eye of the beholder....
When I took my girls to the Dallas Art Museum yesterday, I was surprised (as I always am) at what they liked and what they didn't. Keep in mind, they have all been to this same museum at least once before, so most of what they saw was what they had already seen before. This time, I really wanted to find out what they thought of the art instead of just pointing, "Look at that!"
Yesterday, the museum was a very different place from what I remembered. I have never been there during a "Free on 1st Tuesday of the Month." It was very crowded with families who normally would not have been able to go. Large families, families with toddlers, families with lots of kids... it was a zoo - and that was just the courtyard! In the garden there were guards constantly asking kids not to run under, over, and through the exhibit pieces. I can't really blame the kids, though. Most of the art is gigantic, bronze, and just perfect for climbing and hiding in.
I mean, seriously! Look at these things! I can't imagine a more fun thing to play on, except, you know... they're ART, and you can't do that.
My favorite piece out there was a new one. I didn't see who it was created by or what it was named, but it looked to me like an Ode to Construction (or something like that.)
Once we got inside, it was even more loud and chaotic than the courtyard was. The noise and crowds were mostly centered around the Center for Creative Connections. This is also known as the "Kids Room." It is the only room in the museum where you are allowed to touch anything. It is actually a huge section of an entire floor dedicated mostly to letting kids create art. There are bright colors and textured walls and interactive displays everywhere. One area has a few dozen giant building blocks, and another area has buckets full of cloth and paper and just about any other material you can imagine and kids are encouraged to glue, tape, staple, tie, and connect whatever they want to build two and three dimensional art.
I have to admit, this place is pretty cool. It is also geared towards children slightly younger than mine. As much as I wanted to give them a chance to create, I took one look at the people pouring in and spilling out of the area and I knew there was no way I could handle that. Being in downtown Dallas in an open access museum already had my Kid Safety Alarms going nuts. Crunching into a mob like that would likely have caused a conniption of some sort. All it would have taken would be for me to lose sight of one of my girls or see some creep "accidentally" brush by them and I would have brought the whole place down on our heads.
So, I carefully steered my girls in a different direction and they took the bait. We headed toward the summer exhibit devoted to coastline art from many different artists. Half way there, my knee gave out. Now, I have been having a lot of trouble lately with my right knee and I have had to walk slowly or take long sitting breaks before, but this was not the sort of pain that was going to go away quickly. Both knees are in pretty bad shape. When the pain starts kicking in, usually it hits me in the knees first. Unfortunately, that causes me to limp slightly, which causes my back to hurt right across my hips. This causes walking of any sort extremely painful. I had a tough decision to make. Leave or stay? Put up with more and more pain throughout the day, stopping for long periods to rest? Take enough pain meds to knock out a horse and push through (making it unsafe to be responsible for all three girls, let alone drive home)? Leave and disappoint my girls? I didn't like any of these solutions, so I found a compromise. I went to the front desk and politely asked to borrow a wheel chair.
I admit, riding instead of walking was embarrassing, but I would rather be embarrassed than have to cancel a trip like this. I thought my girls might be embarrassed too, or even start to worry about me more. It turns out they are smarter and cooler than even I thought. All they were concerned about was who got to push me around first. They all took turns wheeling me from gallery to gallery, in and out of the elevator, up and down the halls. When they got tired, I wheeled myself for a bit, and then one of them would take over again. As much as I have to admit it, it made the trip so much better than I anticipated. Instead of leaving when I got tired, the girls wore out before I did!
One of the activities I asked them to do (to make the trip a little more exciting) was to take down or at least notice the names of the artists that they especially liked. I told them that we would be going to the library to research more about the artists and then Friday, they can recreate one of their works in a different medium (take an oil paint and sketch it or use watercolor to paint a sculpture.) This also let me get a good idea of what kind of art they really liked so I would be able to find more things to interest them. Again, they surprised me with what they liked and what they wanted to steer clear of.
The ancient artifacts and statues seemed to freak them out the most. Something about the little statues of men and the masks created to scare away spirits gave them the willies. While they seemed to like the Native American Art, they asked to leave the Pacific Islands Art exhibit in the middle. They wouldn't even walk through the African Art. They seemed mostly bored by the European and Early American Art and Sculpture. Although, the furniture that was displayed alongside many of the portraits was really beautiful.What they all seemed to get the most excited about was the Modern and Contemporary Art. They liked Georgia O'Keefe and Jackson Pollock, as well as anything that was a photograph - even the ones that looked like nothing more than a black and white blur (until you got close enough to see it was a picture of the ocean without any landmarks whatsoever.) The new exhibit called Through the Eyes of Our Children - Something Beautiful is a collection of photographs taken by Dallas area students and it is both moving and inspiring.
By the time we made it through the last display and headed for home, the museum had started to empty out considerably. Most of the activities for children ended about 30 minutes before so we were just in time to see the last weary moms drag their exhausted toddlers out to the parking lot. We were fortunate enough to get a spot right outside the museum door at a parking meter and we got out to the car just as the the meter ran out.
I was very stiff an sore on the way home. Sitting still for two and a half hours will do that. I wasn't exactly still, but I didn't move my legs at all, and I am still feeling the strain of it now. I have been tired and sore all day. I still think that the wheelchair was a wise choice. Without it, we would only have been able to enjoy half the museum before heading home.
Today was supposed to be a day for swimming, but the rain in the forecast made us find other things to do. Apparently, they didn't want to wait for the library to start their personal recreations. LH made her own mini-replica of some of the sculptures from the courtyard. She used whatever was on hand and today, it was copy paper, tape, a shoe box, a wooden dowel, and some extra playing cards.
LH was still inspired to create so she kept building with the playing cards and created a wearable vest with a button closure and everything! EG is here modeling it.
EG said she felt like Harper from Wizards of Waverly Place.
Tomorrow I hope to feel good enough to actually take them to the library so they can look for more information on their chosen artists. Who knows what they will decide to create tomorrow?
Debbie "Artist" Lollar
Yesterday, the museum was a very different place from what I remembered. I have never been there during a "Free on 1st Tuesday of the Month." It was very crowded with families who normally would not have been able to go. Large families, families with toddlers, families with lots of kids... it was a zoo - and that was just the courtyard! In the garden there were guards constantly asking kids not to run under, over, and through the exhibit pieces. I can't really blame the kids, though. Most of the art is gigantic, bronze, and just perfect for climbing and hiding in.
I mean, seriously! Look at these things! I can't imagine a more fun thing to play on, except, you know... they're ART, and you can't do that.
My favorite piece out there was a new one. I didn't see who it was created by or what it was named, but it looked to me like an Ode to Construction (or something like that.)
Once we got inside, it was even more loud and chaotic than the courtyard was. The noise and crowds were mostly centered around the Center for Creative Connections. This is also known as the "Kids Room." It is the only room in the museum where you are allowed to touch anything. It is actually a huge section of an entire floor dedicated mostly to letting kids create art. There are bright colors and textured walls and interactive displays everywhere. One area has a few dozen giant building blocks, and another area has buckets full of cloth and paper and just about any other material you can imagine and kids are encouraged to glue, tape, staple, tie, and connect whatever they want to build two and three dimensional art.
I have to admit, this place is pretty cool. It is also geared towards children slightly younger than mine. As much as I wanted to give them a chance to create, I took one look at the people pouring in and spilling out of the area and I knew there was no way I could handle that. Being in downtown Dallas in an open access museum already had my Kid Safety Alarms going nuts. Crunching into a mob like that would likely have caused a conniption of some sort. All it would have taken would be for me to lose sight of one of my girls or see some creep "accidentally" brush by them and I would have brought the whole place down on our heads.
So, I carefully steered my girls in a different direction and they took the bait. We headed toward the summer exhibit devoted to coastline art from many different artists. Half way there, my knee gave out. Now, I have been having a lot of trouble lately with my right knee and I have had to walk slowly or take long sitting breaks before, but this was not the sort of pain that was going to go away quickly. Both knees are in pretty bad shape. When the pain starts kicking in, usually it hits me in the knees first. Unfortunately, that causes me to limp slightly, which causes my back to hurt right across my hips. This causes walking of any sort extremely painful. I had a tough decision to make. Leave or stay? Put up with more and more pain throughout the day, stopping for long periods to rest? Take enough pain meds to knock out a horse and push through (making it unsafe to be responsible for all three girls, let alone drive home)? Leave and disappoint my girls? I didn't like any of these solutions, so I found a compromise. I went to the front desk and politely asked to borrow a wheel chair.
I admit, riding instead of walking was embarrassing, but I would rather be embarrassed than have to cancel a trip like this. I thought my girls might be embarrassed too, or even start to worry about me more. It turns out they are smarter and cooler than even I thought. All they were concerned about was who got to push me around first. They all took turns wheeling me from gallery to gallery, in and out of the elevator, up and down the halls. When they got tired, I wheeled myself for a bit, and then one of them would take over again. As much as I have to admit it, it made the trip so much better than I anticipated. Instead of leaving when I got tired, the girls wore out before I did!
One of the activities I asked them to do (to make the trip a little more exciting) was to take down or at least notice the names of the artists that they especially liked. I told them that we would be going to the library to research more about the artists and then Friday, they can recreate one of their works in a different medium (take an oil paint and sketch it or use watercolor to paint a sculpture.) This also let me get a good idea of what kind of art they really liked so I would be able to find more things to interest them. Again, they surprised me with what they liked and what they wanted to steer clear of.
The ancient artifacts and statues seemed to freak them out the most. Something about the little statues of men and the masks created to scare away spirits gave them the willies. While they seemed to like the Native American Art, they asked to leave the Pacific Islands Art exhibit in the middle. They wouldn't even walk through the African Art. They seemed mostly bored by the European and Early American Art and Sculpture. Although, the furniture that was displayed alongside many of the portraits was really beautiful.What they all seemed to get the most excited about was the Modern and Contemporary Art. They liked Georgia O'Keefe and Jackson Pollock, as well as anything that was a photograph - even the ones that looked like nothing more than a black and white blur (until you got close enough to see it was a picture of the ocean without any landmarks whatsoever.) The new exhibit called Through the Eyes of Our Children - Something Beautiful is a collection of photographs taken by Dallas area students and it is both moving and inspiring.
By the time we made it through the last display and headed for home, the museum had started to empty out considerably. Most of the activities for children ended about 30 minutes before so we were just in time to see the last weary moms drag their exhausted toddlers out to the parking lot. We were fortunate enough to get a spot right outside the museum door at a parking meter and we got out to the car just as the the meter ran out.
I was very stiff an sore on the way home. Sitting still for two and a half hours will do that. I wasn't exactly still, but I didn't move my legs at all, and I am still feeling the strain of it now. I have been tired and sore all day. I still think that the wheelchair was a wise choice. Without it, we would only have been able to enjoy half the museum before heading home.
Today was supposed to be a day for swimming, but the rain in the forecast made us find other things to do. Apparently, they didn't want to wait for the library to start their personal recreations. LH made her own mini-replica of some of the sculptures from the courtyard. She used whatever was on hand and today, it was copy paper, tape, a shoe box, a wooden dowel, and some extra playing cards.
LH was still inspired to create so she kept building with the playing cards and created a wearable vest with a button closure and everything! EG is here modeling it.
EG said she felt like Harper from Wizards of Waverly Place.
Tomorrow I hope to feel good enough to actually take them to the library so they can look for more information on their chosen artists. Who knows what they will decide to create tomorrow?
Debbie "Artist" Lollar
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Short Update
Some days just don't get moving like they should. In spite of all plans otherwise, what needs to happen, just doesn't. I am beginning to wonder why I make plan or have any sort of expectation for the day when I wake up.
Instead of spending the afternoon at the library (like I planned) we spent the whole day being bums at home. The girls were wiped out (and still a little scorched) from yesterday's swimming pool adventure. They had no problem at all taking a day to recoup by parking their blond, skinny butts in front of the Hypnogourd and losing themselves in marathons of Cake Boss and Clean House. One the one show, they enjoy watching the amazing cakes this New York bakery makes and the owner of the place is, well ... colorful to say the least. Thankfully, it's a "family" show so the language doesn't reflect the true beauty of The City. The other show is a lesson in "What Not To Do" and I enjoy watching it myself. Part of me compares the disastrous messes to my own Humble Abode (at least in my head) as a measuring stick to make sure I haven't let things get out of control. The other part of me likes to see the makeovers. From Ultra Classy to Fun and Exciting, the designers on that show have some real talent. The Hostess isn't my favorite TV Personality, but the rest of the crew is usually fun to watch. The realization and the growth that these crazy, messy families go through can be really heartwarming. Watching the Before and After shots flash across the rooms makes me gasp every time.
I really wanted to get outside today because the weather cleared up and we had sunny skies all day (in spite of the Weatherman's warning to the contrary.) But, my desire for anything more fun that living vicariously through the bakery owners on TV was cut short by the realization that the headache I woke up with was the same headache I had been dealing with for almost three days. 48 hours is usually my limit when it comes to headaches. If the cocktail of OTC's and prescription pain killers can't kick the pain in two days, I have to up the power level and head for The Migraine Arrest Medication.
I hate taking this stuff. While it never fails to stop the headache (at least temporarily) it had some of the nastiest side effects of any medication I have ever taken. When it first kicks in, I can feel my head swim, my stomach lurch, and my body get heavy all at the same time. I usually nod off for about 30 minutes at that point. When I wake up, my head is usually pretty clear, but I feel like the headache moved down into all my muscles. The stiffness and soreness feel similar to what I deal with almost every day, but they are much worse. I just want to crawl back under the covers and not move until it all goes away. The positive side is that they DO go away. It may take a few more hours, but by the time the aches fade away, I feel like a new person. I have been known to clear out the laundry bin, vacuum all the floors, and scrub the kitchen top to bottom in the rush that I get from this stuff. As I said before, I don't think the meds actually give me more energy, I think that the relief from the pain is so amazing, I just want to jump up and down and run around.
I probably would have had another super cleaning fit today if it hadn't been for the lovely burn I have across my shoulders. I have been treating it with fresh Aloe and a spray that is mostly Aloe with a few extra goodies mixed in. By tomorrow I won't be in any discomfort at all, I'm sure. Today though, I remembered just why I don't like to wear racer-back anything in the sun. When you get burned with a racer-X on your back, your bra (for those of you don't know) does not fit in with the burn pattern. What you get from this is rough, painful, peeling, shoulders from where the bra straps rub - even if the rest of you is healing nicely.
Instead of putting up with all of this, I decided (probably not wisely) to go Commando today. For awhile I was able to wear a cami with a built in bra because the straps are loose and soft. While it serves the general purpose of keeping you from being completely embarrassed while answering the door to a stranger, it really doesn't give the "protection" you need to go walking around and moving a lot. 40DD's have a gravity all their own and without steel-belted-radial-style support, it's much smarter to stay put and holler across the house for someone else to bring you your bonbons.
So, here it is almost an hour into tomorrow morning and I have gotten exactly Zip accomplished for the day. I managed to get all three girls moving to do their daily chores (EG showed more enthusiasm than even I expected!) but DH was the one who cooked dinner and wrangled them all into their beds (finally!) tonight. I only feel a touch guilty about everyone else pitching in while I sat on my derriere all day. The mess, of course, is mostly theirs, after all. Besides, DH is an excellent cook when it comes to French Toast and bacon for dinner (who would have thought Hot Fudge would make a decent topping?)
By 9:00 I had all three girls convinced that an early bedtime was necessary to have enough energy for tomorrow's new activities. As usual, it still took another hour to get them all actually asleep (this is why I start the bed time routine at 8:00 during the school year.) DH took that opportunity to flip on the recorded broadcast of the Tour De France and pull out the long-neglected Indian Craft that has been ordered by a friend (and paid for) and should have been delivered mid April. Knowing I can be his biggest distraction, I really wanted to stay out of his way to let him work on it, so I decided to do something that I, too, have been avoiding. I logged on to the Jr College website and I finished choosing my classes for next semester.
I am terrified to finish the registration process. I just know that as soon as I officially register for class, I will get an amazing job offer over the phone and I will have to cancel my plans to return to school, once again. Right now I have secured Financial Aid (for the second time) and I have even chosen my degree path and my classes for the next semester. All that is left is for me to register and pay for the classes once the money comes through. That is such a scary thought right now! Paying money (even if it isn't mine) means that I have committed to this school thing. Once the tuition is paid, I have to attend because I am not allowed to drop classes (until I have actually taken a few courses.) If I skip out or cancel, it will affect my GPA, which is a 4.0 right now and I would like to keep it that way.
I have been waffling about what degree to take and what career I want to pursue. When I look at all the choices, I have decided to go for a teaching degree, at least for now. I have had a few bad experiences in the past, but perhaps they were more situational than personal. I would like to think that I have grown as a person since then and that I am more able to handle those kinds of stresses than I was before. Besides, if I agree to teach for just four years, I will have my entire college degree paid for. Texas is cool like that because we need teachers so desperately. After spending four years teaching what they need me to teach most in the school that I am needed most in, I am free to go my merry way with my college degree and my teaching certificate.
Four years as a reading teacher (or an ESL teacher, or a math teacher ... okay, maybe not MATH) seems a small price to pay for four (or more) years of education. If I suck at it, well... I only have to do it for four years. I'll be able to say I helped out my community and I will hopefully have learned something more from it (besides the fact that I don't like mouthy, pre-teen, hormone-crazed girls.) Maybe during that time I will find my niche and my true calling in life. It certainly is worth a try. If I don't know what I want to be when I grow up right now, I really don't have anything to lose, do I?
I can't wrap my brain around it yet. Is this really the First Summer of The Rest of My Life? Will I be heading back to school at the same time my daughters are? How will I handle having homework and assignments while trying to help them with their school as well? Am I completely crazy for thinking I can do this? What will it be like sitting next to girls that are barely older than my daughter while trying to take my REMEDIAL MATH course. (Yep, LH comes by her Math troubles honestly.)
Currently, I have planned on taking two online courses and two lecture courses. I will have one on-campus class every day of the week (one M, W, F and one Tu, Thu) plus two more classes that I can take whenever or wherever I can. 12 hours is a full class load. There is no realistic way I can work more than part time while I do this. I don't even know if I can keep the workload straight for Math, History, Music, and Education courses all at the same time, let alone remember a part time job schedule. How the hell am I going to keep the bills paid and the papers done on time?
I had better become the world's most dedicated Budget and Schedule Master or I will end up back in front of a monitor Transcribing names and addresses five nights a week. Hmmm, there are some tough choices I need to make.
Debbie "Schoolgirl" Lollar
Instead of spending the afternoon at the library (like I planned) we spent the whole day being bums at home. The girls were wiped out (and still a little scorched) from yesterday's swimming pool adventure. They had no problem at all taking a day to recoup by parking their blond, skinny butts in front of the Hypnogourd and losing themselves in marathons of Cake Boss and Clean House. One the one show, they enjoy watching the amazing cakes this New York bakery makes and the owner of the place is, well ... colorful to say the least. Thankfully, it's a "family" show so the language doesn't reflect the true beauty of The City. The other show is a lesson in "What Not To Do" and I enjoy watching it myself. Part of me compares the disastrous messes to my own Humble Abode (at least in my head) as a measuring stick to make sure I haven't let things get out of control. The other part of me likes to see the makeovers. From Ultra Classy to Fun and Exciting, the designers on that show have some real talent. The Hostess isn't my favorite TV Personality, but the rest of the crew is usually fun to watch. The realization and the growth that these crazy, messy families go through can be really heartwarming. Watching the Before and After shots flash across the rooms makes me gasp every time.
I really wanted to get outside today because the weather cleared up and we had sunny skies all day (in spite of the Weatherman's warning to the contrary.) But, my desire for anything more fun that living vicariously through the bakery owners on TV was cut short by the realization that the headache I woke up with was the same headache I had been dealing with for almost three days. 48 hours is usually my limit when it comes to headaches. If the cocktail of OTC's and prescription pain killers can't kick the pain in two days, I have to up the power level and head for The Migraine Arrest Medication.
I hate taking this stuff. While it never fails to stop the headache (at least temporarily) it had some of the nastiest side effects of any medication I have ever taken. When it first kicks in, I can feel my head swim, my stomach lurch, and my body get heavy all at the same time. I usually nod off for about 30 minutes at that point. When I wake up, my head is usually pretty clear, but I feel like the headache moved down into all my muscles. The stiffness and soreness feel similar to what I deal with almost every day, but they are much worse. I just want to crawl back under the covers and not move until it all goes away. The positive side is that they DO go away. It may take a few more hours, but by the time the aches fade away, I feel like a new person. I have been known to clear out the laundry bin, vacuum all the floors, and scrub the kitchen top to bottom in the rush that I get from this stuff. As I said before, I don't think the meds actually give me more energy, I think that the relief from the pain is so amazing, I just want to jump up and down and run around.
I probably would have had another super cleaning fit today if it hadn't been for the lovely burn I have across my shoulders. I have been treating it with fresh Aloe and a spray that is mostly Aloe with a few extra goodies mixed in. By tomorrow I won't be in any discomfort at all, I'm sure. Today though, I remembered just why I don't like to wear racer-back anything in the sun. When you get burned with a racer-X on your back, your bra (for those of you don't know) does not fit in with the burn pattern. What you get from this is rough, painful, peeling, shoulders from where the bra straps rub - even if the rest of you is healing nicely.
Instead of putting up with all of this, I decided (probably not wisely) to go Commando today. For awhile I was able to wear a cami with a built in bra because the straps are loose and soft. While it serves the general purpose of keeping you from being completely embarrassed while answering the door to a stranger, it really doesn't give the "protection" you need to go walking around and moving a lot. 40DD's have a gravity all their own and without steel-belted-radial-style support, it's much smarter to stay put and holler across the house for someone else to bring you your bonbons.
So, here it is almost an hour into tomorrow morning and I have gotten exactly Zip accomplished for the day. I managed to get all three girls moving to do their daily chores (EG showed more enthusiasm than even I expected!) but DH was the one who cooked dinner and wrangled them all into their beds (finally!) tonight. I only feel a touch guilty about everyone else pitching in while I sat on my derriere all day. The mess, of course, is mostly theirs, after all. Besides, DH is an excellent cook when it comes to French Toast and bacon for dinner (who would have thought Hot Fudge would make a decent topping?)
By 9:00 I had all three girls convinced that an early bedtime was necessary to have enough energy for tomorrow's new activities. As usual, it still took another hour to get them all actually asleep (this is why I start the bed time routine at 8:00 during the school year.) DH took that opportunity to flip on the recorded broadcast of the Tour De France and pull out the long-neglected Indian Craft that has been ordered by a friend (and paid for) and should have been delivered mid April. Knowing I can be his biggest distraction, I really wanted to stay out of his way to let him work on it, so I decided to do something that I, too, have been avoiding. I logged on to the Jr College website and I finished choosing my classes for next semester.
I am terrified to finish the registration process. I just know that as soon as I officially register for class, I will get an amazing job offer over the phone and I will have to cancel my plans to return to school, once again. Right now I have secured Financial Aid (for the second time) and I have even chosen my degree path and my classes for the next semester. All that is left is for me to register and pay for the classes once the money comes through. That is such a scary thought right now! Paying money (even if it isn't mine) means that I have committed to this school thing. Once the tuition is paid, I have to attend because I am not allowed to drop classes (until I have actually taken a few courses.) If I skip out or cancel, it will affect my GPA, which is a 4.0 right now and I would like to keep it that way.
I have been waffling about what degree to take and what career I want to pursue. When I look at all the choices, I have decided to go for a teaching degree, at least for now. I have had a few bad experiences in the past, but perhaps they were more situational than personal. I would like to think that I have grown as a person since then and that I am more able to handle those kinds of stresses than I was before. Besides, if I agree to teach for just four years, I will have my entire college degree paid for. Texas is cool like that because we need teachers so desperately. After spending four years teaching what they need me to teach most in the school that I am needed most in, I am free to go my merry way with my college degree and my teaching certificate.
Four years as a reading teacher (or an ESL teacher, or a math teacher ... okay, maybe not MATH) seems a small price to pay for four (or more) years of education. If I suck at it, well... I only have to do it for four years. I'll be able to say I helped out my community and I will hopefully have learned something more from it (besides the fact that I don't like mouthy, pre-teen, hormone-crazed girls.) Maybe during that time I will find my niche and my true calling in life. It certainly is worth a try. If I don't know what I want to be when I grow up right now, I really don't have anything to lose, do I?
I can't wrap my brain around it yet. Is this really the First Summer of The Rest of My Life? Will I be heading back to school at the same time my daughters are? How will I handle having homework and assignments while trying to help them with their school as well? Am I completely crazy for thinking I can do this? What will it be like sitting next to girls that are barely older than my daughter while trying to take my REMEDIAL MATH course. (Yep, LH comes by her Math troubles honestly.)
Currently, I have planned on taking two online courses and two lecture courses. I will have one on-campus class every day of the week (one M, W, F and one Tu, Thu) plus two more classes that I can take whenever or wherever I can. 12 hours is a full class load. There is no realistic way I can work more than part time while I do this. I don't even know if I can keep the workload straight for Math, History, Music, and Education courses all at the same time, let alone remember a part time job schedule. How the hell am I going to keep the bills paid and the papers done on time?
I had better become the world's most dedicated Budget and Schedule Master or I will end up back in front of a monitor Transcribing names and addresses five nights a week. Hmmm, there are some tough choices I need to make.
Debbie "Schoolgirl" Lollar
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Happy Independance Day
Today was not at all what I planned (once again) but I should really be used to that by now.
DH and his Indian Drum group decided to get together for a potluck/cookout and drum practice today. The whole family was invited so we bought enough hot dogs for 20 people and headed out to a suburb on the other side of town. I don't normally have a lot to do at these get-togethers. The drum is loud, so I have to wear ear plugs to prevent a headache. It also means that casual conversation between songs isn't really possible. I attend these things because I like to show support for the things that DH is into, but they really aren't my thing. The people are nice enough, but they have much more in common with DH than they do with me. Today, we brought MIL and FIL with us so I would at least have MIL to hang out with. I can think of worse ways to spend the holiday.
Anyway, the meeting today was somewhere new. The house belonged to one of the drummers that had never hosted a practice before. That was probably why we were surprised that there was a pool and everyone was swimming when we got there. We didn't bring swim suits, and I don't even own one that fits. One look at my little girls faces and I knew what I had to do. I left everyone else there, and took MIL to the big, cheap, super store that is in every little town these days. Having bought swimsuits for my girls recently (twice, actually) finding something for each of them was actually pretty easy. I eyeballed a few suits and grabbed some that I decided were there sizes. Then, I snagged a pair of trunks for DH and the easy part of the trip was done.
Now, it was time for me to find a suit.
I can't remember the last time I really went swimming. I haven't worn a tank top in public for a long time, let alone a swim suit, certainly not since I gained the last 40 pounds. Finding a swim suit in my size was both humiliating and depressing. Finding one that not only fit, but didn't also make me look like a large, brightly flowered, pear was near on impossible. Since, I had MIL with me and she was suit shopping, too, I at least wasn't alone. MIL is roughly my size, so we were aiming in the same direction. It actually helped because we were able to make suggestions and criticisms of the suits without fear or embarrassment. We have different tastes, as well as comfort levels, but it was still nice to have the camaraderie. In the end, she chose a sporty and flattering one piece suit, which I also happened to think looked good on me. However, I refused to show up in the same suit as my Mother In Law, no matter how cute or flattering it was.
I tried on several other suits and made three trips to the fitting room. Two piece suits didn't have the, uh... support I needed on top, or bottom. One piece suits were better, but it was hard for me to find anything that was nearly the size on top that was needed. The embarrassing part came when I realized I was shopping from the wrong department. I needed to shop in the Women's section. This is also known as the Hefty or Plus Size section. This was where there were suits that had a little more coverage and a lot more support. Even though I decided long ago that the day I wore a dress in the swimming pool is the day I would drown myself, I found myself considering the style. The benefit of this style is that the suit has the style of a one piece with an extra added skirt around the hips. They are also a little more forgiving around the middle and a lot more supportive around the top. I have always associated them with older ladies or very large sizes. This is still the case, but the suit makers have been making them much nicer and in much smaller sizes these days so they are losing the label of "old lady wear" that they used to have.
So, after much deliberation, I found one that wasn't too frumpy, was one of my favorite colors (turquoise), and didn't have a skirt that went down to my knees.
While I was still nervous heading back to the party and donning my suit, I was a little comforted by the rest of the group that was swimming. I know it shouldn't really matter, but I was encouraged by the fact that everyone else who was swimming was at least the same size as I am, if not larger. If all these guys can sport their bare beer bellies and the other girls can swim around showing off their cellulite, so can I. So, I squeezed into my suit and walked out confidently to the pool.
There was another reason I decided to swim today. It was actually three reasons. None of my girls know how to swim. This is primarily due to the fact that I am such a terrible swimmer, which leads me to fear having my little ones around me in the pool. With DH nearby, it isn't so bad because he is a great swimmer, but there is still only one of him and three of them. I tend to hover around whoever isn't right next to DH and keep them trapped in the shallow end with floatees instead of letting them experiment and learn and gain confidence. As a result, I have a (nearly) 13 year old (as well as a 9 year old and an almost 7 year old) who can't swim or even float by themselves.
Today, I was determined I would not let my fears prevent them from enjoying themselves and missing out on a valuable part of their lives. I had already decided to visit the pool once or twice a week this summer. Now, I am realizing that is a much more important endeavor than I originally thought. I have changed my plans to include the regular pools instead of just the shallow, splash pools. It means letting all three girls in the deeper water all at the same time, but that is something I need to do. They need to learn to sink or swim.
This is much easier to say than to do, but it was still not as hard as I thought it would be. First of all, there were several other life guard trained, life time scouters swimming with us today. Secondly, there was a plethora of pool noodles for the girls to cling to. As long as they were gripping the noodles, they would be (for the most part) safe. For those who have never seen one, a pool noodle is a long, hollow, foam tube that are usually four foot long, and as big around as your forearm. They are also extremely buoyant. One of these noodles will support a fully grown (or overgrown) man completely. As far as fun pool toys go, these are top. The best use if them, in my option, is as a swimming aid. They can be used sort of like training wheels to let a new swimmer practice the movements and learn how to float without a teacher hovering over them.
I know they are not life-saving devices and that they should only be used with supervision, especially by non-swimmers. However, my girls were able to "swim" from the shallow end, to the deep end, and back again without any assistance other than the noodle balanced under their arms and across their chest. Letting them go that far away from me was more painful than I can actually describe. At least, at first it was. As the other adults in the pool encouraged them and kept a sharp eye for any signs of struggle, I was able to slowly relax. By the end of the afternoon, all three girls were happily kicking their way, fearlessly around the pool learning how to use them to blow fountains of water at each other.
The only issue that cropped up was from LH. Apparently, the drop off into the deep end was more steep than she realized and the confidence she had gained from paddling around with the noodle did not totally translate into true swimming skills. All I heard was a small splash and yell and she was bobbing under the surface of the water. I lunged for her at the same moment I realized that if she was drowning, I wouldn't be much help. Thankfully, within three seconds there were three sets of hands helping her out of the water and she was even carried carefully out of the pool.
She was safe. She never swallowed or inhaled water, so she never actually choked. In fact, she nearly didn't need any help at all. She had already managed to get her head above water at the same moment she was "rescued." As soon as she realized she was in too deep, she held her breath and started to kick. This was exactly what I had been telling her to do all afternoon. If you get scared, hold your breath and just keep kicking. You will make it to the surface and you will be alright. I know I kept repeating this to her and her sisters as much to make myself feel better as to impart some wisdom to them, but for once, it was well placed advice. In fact, had no one been there, I bet she would have continued kicking until she grabbed the edge of the pool and she might have rescued herself.
After she was safe on the ground and I made sure she was okay, I gave her a hug and backed off. She was still a little shaky, but the last thing I wanted to do was baby her and feed into her fear. Gramma was there to do that, which I had no problem with, but I wanted to try to show her that I was not as worried (as I truly was) so that she would not associate the water with more fear. I felt so awful staying in the pool while she recovered. How could I abandon my baby right after a near-death experience. I know it wasn't that bad, but in those first minutes after she got out of the water, my mind worked things up to be much worse than they had been. She sat with her Gramma for awhile, and I was a little afraid that she was going to sit pool-side the rest of the afternoon. However, she proved me wrong and impressed me when she was back in the water within 15 minutes. In spite of nearly drowning (in her mind at least) she returned to jumping in off the side and doggie paddling across the pool just as if nothing had happened.
My heart was breaking in my chest, and it killed me to see her shaking and crying and being comforted by someone else, but I am still confident I made the right choice. The fact that she came away from the afternoon with happiness and enjoyment instead of fear tells me that letting go a little made her stronger. She still can't swim on her own, but maybe she will have the confidence to try now, where she wouldn't have before.
That is, after all why we are parents, isn't it? To raise children who become adults who are confident enough to go out into the world on their own.
It could be that today was just a day at the pool for LH. For me it was a much bigger step as a parent. Today I was able to show confidence and hopefully pass a little of that on to my girls.
Debbie "Waterbaby" Lollar
DH and his Indian Drum group decided to get together for a potluck/cookout and drum practice today. The whole family was invited so we bought enough hot dogs for 20 people and headed out to a suburb on the other side of town. I don't normally have a lot to do at these get-togethers. The drum is loud, so I have to wear ear plugs to prevent a headache. It also means that casual conversation between songs isn't really possible. I attend these things because I like to show support for the things that DH is into, but they really aren't my thing. The people are nice enough, but they have much more in common with DH than they do with me. Today, we brought MIL and FIL with us so I would at least have MIL to hang out with. I can think of worse ways to spend the holiday.
Anyway, the meeting today was somewhere new. The house belonged to one of the drummers that had never hosted a practice before. That was probably why we were surprised that there was a pool and everyone was swimming when we got there. We didn't bring swim suits, and I don't even own one that fits. One look at my little girls faces and I knew what I had to do. I left everyone else there, and took MIL to the big, cheap, super store that is in every little town these days. Having bought swimsuits for my girls recently (twice, actually) finding something for each of them was actually pretty easy. I eyeballed a few suits and grabbed some that I decided were there sizes. Then, I snagged a pair of trunks for DH and the easy part of the trip was done.
Now, it was time for me to find a suit.
I can't remember the last time I really went swimming. I haven't worn a tank top in public for a long time, let alone a swim suit, certainly not since I gained the last 40 pounds. Finding a swim suit in my size was both humiliating and depressing. Finding one that not only fit, but didn't also make me look like a large, brightly flowered, pear was near on impossible. Since, I had MIL with me and she was suit shopping, too, I at least wasn't alone. MIL is roughly my size, so we were aiming in the same direction. It actually helped because we were able to make suggestions and criticisms of the suits without fear or embarrassment. We have different tastes, as well as comfort levels, but it was still nice to have the camaraderie. In the end, she chose a sporty and flattering one piece suit, which I also happened to think looked good on me. However, I refused to show up in the same suit as my Mother In Law, no matter how cute or flattering it was.
I tried on several other suits and made three trips to the fitting room. Two piece suits didn't have the, uh... support I needed on top, or bottom. One piece suits were better, but it was hard for me to find anything that was nearly the size on top that was needed. The embarrassing part came when I realized I was shopping from the wrong department. I needed to shop in the Women's section. This is also known as the Hefty or Plus Size section. This was where there were suits that had a little more coverage and a lot more support. Even though I decided long ago that the day I wore a dress in the swimming pool is the day I would drown myself, I found myself considering the style. The benefit of this style is that the suit has the style of a one piece with an extra added skirt around the hips. They are also a little more forgiving around the middle and a lot more supportive around the top. I have always associated them with older ladies or very large sizes. This is still the case, but the suit makers have been making them much nicer and in much smaller sizes these days so they are losing the label of "old lady wear" that they used to have.
So, after much deliberation, I found one that wasn't too frumpy, was one of my favorite colors (turquoise), and didn't have a skirt that went down to my knees.
While I was still nervous heading back to the party and donning my suit, I was a little comforted by the rest of the group that was swimming. I know it shouldn't really matter, but I was encouraged by the fact that everyone else who was swimming was at least the same size as I am, if not larger. If all these guys can sport their bare beer bellies and the other girls can swim around showing off their cellulite, so can I. So, I squeezed into my suit and walked out confidently to the pool.
There was another reason I decided to swim today. It was actually three reasons. None of my girls know how to swim. This is primarily due to the fact that I am such a terrible swimmer, which leads me to fear having my little ones around me in the pool. With DH nearby, it isn't so bad because he is a great swimmer, but there is still only one of him and three of them. I tend to hover around whoever isn't right next to DH and keep them trapped in the shallow end with floatees instead of letting them experiment and learn and gain confidence. As a result, I have a (nearly) 13 year old (as well as a 9 year old and an almost 7 year old) who can't swim or even float by themselves.
Today, I was determined I would not let my fears prevent them from enjoying themselves and missing out on a valuable part of their lives. I had already decided to visit the pool once or twice a week this summer. Now, I am realizing that is a much more important endeavor than I originally thought. I have changed my plans to include the regular pools instead of just the shallow, splash pools. It means letting all three girls in the deeper water all at the same time, but that is something I need to do. They need to learn to sink or swim.
This is much easier to say than to do, but it was still not as hard as I thought it would be. First of all, there were several other life guard trained, life time scouters swimming with us today. Secondly, there was a plethora of pool noodles for the girls to cling to. As long as they were gripping the noodles, they would be (for the most part) safe. For those who have never seen one, a pool noodle is a long, hollow, foam tube that are usually four foot long, and as big around as your forearm. They are also extremely buoyant. One of these noodles will support a fully grown (or overgrown) man completely. As far as fun pool toys go, these are top. The best use if them, in my option, is as a swimming aid. They can be used sort of like training wheels to let a new swimmer practice the movements and learn how to float without a teacher hovering over them.
I know they are not life-saving devices and that they should only be used with supervision, especially by non-swimmers. However, my girls were able to "swim" from the shallow end, to the deep end, and back again without any assistance other than the noodle balanced under their arms and across their chest. Letting them go that far away from me was more painful than I can actually describe. At least, at first it was. As the other adults in the pool encouraged them and kept a sharp eye for any signs of struggle, I was able to slowly relax. By the end of the afternoon, all three girls were happily kicking their way, fearlessly around the pool learning how to use them to blow fountains of water at each other.
The only issue that cropped up was from LH. Apparently, the drop off into the deep end was more steep than she realized and the confidence she had gained from paddling around with the noodle did not totally translate into true swimming skills. All I heard was a small splash and yell and she was bobbing under the surface of the water. I lunged for her at the same moment I realized that if she was drowning, I wouldn't be much help. Thankfully, within three seconds there were three sets of hands helping her out of the water and she was even carried carefully out of the pool.
She was safe. She never swallowed or inhaled water, so she never actually choked. In fact, she nearly didn't need any help at all. She had already managed to get her head above water at the same moment she was "rescued." As soon as she realized she was in too deep, she held her breath and started to kick. This was exactly what I had been telling her to do all afternoon. If you get scared, hold your breath and just keep kicking. You will make it to the surface and you will be alright. I know I kept repeating this to her and her sisters as much to make myself feel better as to impart some wisdom to them, but for once, it was well placed advice. In fact, had no one been there, I bet she would have continued kicking until she grabbed the edge of the pool and she might have rescued herself.
After she was safe on the ground and I made sure she was okay, I gave her a hug and backed off. She was still a little shaky, but the last thing I wanted to do was baby her and feed into her fear. Gramma was there to do that, which I had no problem with, but I wanted to try to show her that I was not as worried (as I truly was) so that she would not associate the water with more fear. I felt so awful staying in the pool while she recovered. How could I abandon my baby right after a near-death experience. I know it wasn't that bad, but in those first minutes after she got out of the water, my mind worked things up to be much worse than they had been. She sat with her Gramma for awhile, and I was a little afraid that she was going to sit pool-side the rest of the afternoon. However, she proved me wrong and impressed me when she was back in the water within 15 minutes. In spite of nearly drowning (in her mind at least) she returned to jumping in off the side and doggie paddling across the pool just as if nothing had happened.
My heart was breaking in my chest, and it killed me to see her shaking and crying and being comforted by someone else, but I am still confident I made the right choice. The fact that she came away from the afternoon with happiness and enjoyment instead of fear tells me that letting go a little made her stronger. She still can't swim on her own, but maybe she will have the confidence to try now, where she wouldn't have before.
That is, after all why we are parents, isn't it? To raise children who become adults who are confident enough to go out into the world on their own.
It could be that today was just a day at the pool for LH. For me it was a much bigger step as a parent. Today I was able to show confidence and hopefully pass a little of that on to my girls.
Debbie "Waterbaby" Lollar
July 3, 2010
Today we went to a boy scout camp just south of town and held a small memorial for DH's grandparents. It helped his father by recalling his parents in a peaceful way and at a place that they held dear to them. I know it helped LH achieve some closure, herself. She has had a very tough time dealing with their loss. TD was too young to remember either of them very well and EG was not even born when Granddaddy died. (in fact, I found out I was pregnant with her the morning of his funeral.) Granny passed away less than five years later, but it was still long enough ago that they don't feel the loss as strongly.
In any case, we all were there and DH had some personal items that were his and we were all able to say a final good-bye to him and to Granny as well.
After the memorial, I decided to take some shots of the scenery. It was just too pretty for me to ignore.
There were butterflies everywhere and the weather was beautiful (if a bit muggy.) By the end of the afternoon, the girls were all smiles. I am so glad we took the day to do this. I know my heart is lighter and I believe everyone else feels the same way.
Rest in peace Bill and Nell Lollar. Until we meet again.
Debbie Lollar
In any case, we all were there and DH had some personal items that were his and we were all able to say a final good-bye to him and to Granny as well.
After the memorial, I decided to take some shots of the scenery. It was just too pretty for me to ignore.
There were butterflies everywhere and the weather was beautiful (if a bit muggy.) By the end of the afternoon, the girls were all smiles. I am so glad we took the day to do this. I know my heart is lighter and I believe everyone else feels the same way.
Rest in peace Bill and Nell Lollar. Until we meet again.
Debbie Lollar
Pictures
I am going to try my hand at photography. I have been dabbling at it for awhile. My Cool Mom (CM) bought me a really awesome camera a while back and I use it all the time to capture snap shots of the family. I have recently developed this desire to take it up a notch. Take some photos that might really be considered art. Instead of bustling around (trying to avoid getting photographed) I want to be the one behind the camera, cataloging events as they happen. Along the way, maybe I will produce something worth framing and hanging on the wall.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. That isn't always the case. I have seen lots of pictures that left me questioning, "What the heck is THIS?" or "Why on earth did they decide to capture (and share) something like THAT?" Then there are the photos that DO say a thousand words, or at maybe just a few important ones. I would love to take pictures that evoke an emotion and give the viewer the same feelings I felt when I took it. I got a huge compliment from CM today. She told me that one of my photos made her want to walk right into it. That gave me the same feeling I get when someone tells me that my writing inspires or uplifts them.
I saw a photography exhibit at the DMA http://www.dm-art.org/index.htm a few years back. I don't remember exactly who was displayed, but I remember at least one who was a fellow Texan. The subject matter she chose was usually landscapes of small towns or of highway crossroads. At first, I was a bit confused. Other than being black and white, I didn't see anything especially moving about any of the photography. I always felt that photographs with buildings and roads are simply not as pretty as flowers or trees. Nature is beautiful to me and technology (while desirable and often attractive) is not. It took me awhile of staring at this collection before I finally 'got it." Finally, I SAW what she wanted me to see. It wasn't immediately apparent or especially breathtaking, but nonetheless, it was there - the way an image of a crossroads evokes the feeling of a decision waiting to be made, or a closed down gas station gives feelings of nostalgia.
I don't really think architecture is my thing, but I can understand how someone might find it inspirational. Nature, specifically flowers, is more what I am interested in capturing. Flowers on the bush are beautiful for only a short time before they whither and release the seeds they are protecting. It isn't sad to me that their beauty is fleeting because they are part of the life-giving cycle of the seasons. Still, to be able to look back at that flower in middle of winter, and see it exactly how it was in the sun on a summer afternoon, now that is something I would like to see.
In the same vein, I think a picture of a child is especially beautiful when they are caught off guard or when they think no one is looking. There is a difference, though, between a simple snap shot and a beautiful photograph of a child laughing at bubbles. I am striving to make that difference apparent. I want to be able to capture LH in her moment of pre-teen angst, or TD as she whizzes past, or even EG in one of her overly serious moods. I want so badly to take down every moment of their childhood so I can look back and remember each smile, tear, scream, and giggle.
It occurs to me that my new fascination with photography might have something to do with the illness I have been fighting. For one thing, when I am in pain or asleep, I miss out on what is going on around me. I have lost six years to naps, oversleeping, or simply lying alone in the dark. That is six years of missing memories that I should have. For another thing, the medications I have taken, and still take, have ruined part of my short term memory. I can remember big things, but not always the details. Some times I remember details of things, but I can't remember of what. If it weren't for my constantly writing down lists and appointments, I believe I would be completely useless sometimes. I hope to soon be rid of the meds and their side effects, but until I can safely do that, I am stuck wishing I could remember just what I had for breakfast.
I feel like I missed out on a major part of my children, and my husband's lives. Even though I was physically there, I can't say I was an active part, and I certainly don't remember much of it. If only I had been able to capture it and file it away somewhere. Maybe I might remember more clearly the rolls on their chubby little legs or the mess they made with leggos. I do have many pictures already. DH was always very good at remembering the camera and capturing the good moments. We have the screen saver on the family computer set to cycle through all the family photos. Whenever he steps away from the keyboard for a moment, I am blessed with the faces of my family from every event we've ever had. The only issue I have is that they are HIS visions, HIS versions of what happened. When you take a photo yourself, it becomes YOUR memory and you remember things the way you saw them at that moment. I want my own catalog of events. Memories frozen the way I saw them and felt them.
I have decided to join the 365 Project where you post a photograph every day for a year. I think it would be wonderful to have a picture to commemorate every day of my life. I also think the habit of taking pictures daily will help to inspire creativity and expand my field of vision. Maybe I will be able to look back and see a progression of talent or at least of skill. I am sure I will be able to look back and recall something I wasn't able to before. With the kind of year I am planning on having, a documentation of the days is probably a pretty good thing to have.
Right now I am two weeks into a summer at home with my girls. As I have said before, this isn't something I have done before, or at least not planned to do. If I actually accomplish all that I have scheduled, it will be a busy and interesting time, indeed. Photo ops galore. Also, this is a really important time in all of my girls' lives and as fast as they are growing and changing, I would love to be able to look back and actually see the progression they make from day to day. LH is almost 13 and that means she is growing from a girl to a young lady. TD is 9 and is changing from a child into a big girl. EG is morphing daily into this strange mix of young child and old soul. There is no telling how different they will be in three months, let alone a full year.
On top of this, I have made the decision (which is always the first and most important step) to really and truly go to school and get a degree. DH has decided to change careers and focus on becoming a teacher so he is planning on enrolling in the fall. We thought that maybe taking classes together, or at least at the same time would be good for us. Taking the same class might not be wise because of the competitive streak I can sometimes get. Perhaps if we take the same classes but at different times, we can help and encourage each other. It would make us a little more accountable and a lot more understanding of each other while we are going through this ordeal. While this is going to be a lot of hard work, it is also going to be exciting, and possibly fun. Who knows what kind of things I will be exposed to on the college campus?
On top of the 365 project, I will post pictures here as I feel the need. I hope you will come along with me on my journey. As disjointed as my life has been, I hope that I can find some continuity here. I doubt it will help me feel and more stable or any less confused. On the other hand, that's part of what makes me who I am.
Let the confusion continue!
Debbie "Who?" Lollar
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. That isn't always the case. I have seen lots of pictures that left me questioning, "What the heck is THIS?" or "Why on earth did they decide to capture (and share) something like THAT?" Then there are the photos that DO say a thousand words, or at maybe just a few important ones. I would love to take pictures that evoke an emotion and give the viewer the same feelings I felt when I took it. I got a huge compliment from CM today. She told me that one of my photos made her want to walk right into it. That gave me the same feeling I get when someone tells me that my writing inspires or uplifts them.
I saw a photography exhibit at the DMA http://www.dm-art.org/index.htm a few years back. I don't remember exactly who was displayed, but I remember at least one who was a fellow Texan. The subject matter she chose was usually landscapes of small towns or of highway crossroads. At first, I was a bit confused. Other than being black and white, I didn't see anything especially moving about any of the photography. I always felt that photographs with buildings and roads are simply not as pretty as flowers or trees. Nature is beautiful to me and technology (while desirable and often attractive) is not. It took me awhile of staring at this collection before I finally 'got it." Finally, I SAW what she wanted me to see. It wasn't immediately apparent or especially breathtaking, but nonetheless, it was there - the way an image of a crossroads evokes the feeling of a decision waiting to be made, or a closed down gas station gives feelings of nostalgia.
I don't really think architecture is my thing, but I can understand how someone might find it inspirational. Nature, specifically flowers, is more what I am interested in capturing. Flowers on the bush are beautiful for only a short time before they whither and release the seeds they are protecting. It isn't sad to me that their beauty is fleeting because they are part of the life-giving cycle of the seasons. Still, to be able to look back at that flower in middle of winter, and see it exactly how it was in the sun on a summer afternoon, now that is something I would like to see.
In the same vein, I think a picture of a child is especially beautiful when they are caught off guard or when they think no one is looking. There is a difference, though, between a simple snap shot and a beautiful photograph of a child laughing at bubbles. I am striving to make that difference apparent. I want to be able to capture LH in her moment of pre-teen angst, or TD as she whizzes past, or even EG in one of her overly serious moods. I want so badly to take down every moment of their childhood so I can look back and remember each smile, tear, scream, and giggle.
It occurs to me that my new fascination with photography might have something to do with the illness I have been fighting. For one thing, when I am in pain or asleep, I miss out on what is going on around me. I have lost six years to naps, oversleeping, or simply lying alone in the dark. That is six years of missing memories that I should have. For another thing, the medications I have taken, and still take, have ruined part of my short term memory. I can remember big things, but not always the details. Some times I remember details of things, but I can't remember of what. If it weren't for my constantly writing down lists and appointments, I believe I would be completely useless sometimes. I hope to soon be rid of the meds and their side effects, but until I can safely do that, I am stuck wishing I could remember just what I had for breakfast.
I feel like I missed out on a major part of my children, and my husband's lives. Even though I was physically there, I can't say I was an active part, and I certainly don't remember much of it. If only I had been able to capture it and file it away somewhere. Maybe I might remember more clearly the rolls on their chubby little legs or the mess they made with leggos. I do have many pictures already. DH was always very good at remembering the camera and capturing the good moments. We have the screen saver on the family computer set to cycle through all the family photos. Whenever he steps away from the keyboard for a moment, I am blessed with the faces of my family from every event we've ever had. The only issue I have is that they are HIS visions, HIS versions of what happened. When you take a photo yourself, it becomes YOUR memory and you remember things the way you saw them at that moment. I want my own catalog of events. Memories frozen the way I saw them and felt them.
I have decided to join the 365 Project where you post a photograph every day for a year. I think it would be wonderful to have a picture to commemorate every day of my life. I also think the habit of taking pictures daily will help to inspire creativity and expand my field of vision. Maybe I will be able to look back and see a progression of talent or at least of skill. I am sure I will be able to look back and recall something I wasn't able to before. With the kind of year I am planning on having, a documentation of the days is probably a pretty good thing to have.
Right now I am two weeks into a summer at home with my girls. As I have said before, this isn't something I have done before, or at least not planned to do. If I actually accomplish all that I have scheduled, it will be a busy and interesting time, indeed. Photo ops galore. Also, this is a really important time in all of my girls' lives and as fast as they are growing and changing, I would love to be able to look back and actually see the progression they make from day to day. LH is almost 13 and that means she is growing from a girl to a young lady. TD is 9 and is changing from a child into a big girl. EG is morphing daily into this strange mix of young child and old soul. There is no telling how different they will be in three months, let alone a full year.
On top of this, I have made the decision (which is always the first and most important step) to really and truly go to school and get a degree. DH has decided to change careers and focus on becoming a teacher so he is planning on enrolling in the fall. We thought that maybe taking classes together, or at least at the same time would be good for us. Taking the same class might not be wise because of the competitive streak I can sometimes get. Perhaps if we take the same classes but at different times, we can help and encourage each other. It would make us a little more accountable and a lot more understanding of each other while we are going through this ordeal. While this is going to be a lot of hard work, it is also going to be exciting, and possibly fun. Who knows what kind of things I will be exposed to on the college campus?
On top of the 365 project, I will post pictures here as I feel the need. I hope you will come along with me on my journey. As disjointed as my life has been, I hope that I can find some continuity here. I doubt it will help me feel and more stable or any less confused. On the other hand, that's part of what makes me who I am.
Let the confusion continue!
Debbie "Who?" Lollar
Friday, July 2, 2010
Three day weekend? Really?
I'm beginning to realize that for us that stay home with the kiddos all summer, the days run together so much that it is hard to tell a week day from a week end, let alone a three day weekend. I have to constantly look at my calendar and count days to make sure I know what day of the week or even month it is. This weekend, because the official holiday is on a Sunday, it has my sense of time all messed up. There are celebrations going on tomorrow, Sunday, and then many people get Monday off, just because. Yep, if I was a full-timer, I would be partying hard core. Since I'm not, I'm just thankful to have an extra day where I can pawn the kiddos of on DH every now and then.
As I suspected, things haven't gone completely as planned, but then again, my plans were pretty loose to begin with. The rain has been here pretty steadily all week. Normally the rain doesn't give me much pause. It is, after all, just water that happens to be falling out of the sky. Here in TX we don't usually have to deal with it for very long stretches at all. Storms whip through this part of the country pretty quickly. Most of us don't own rain boots, or even raincoats. We just wait until the worst of the storm passes and run between the drops.
This storm has been pretty bad, though. There have been reports of tornadoes and flash flooding that can sweep cars, trucks, pets, and people away. My cargo is too precious to take that kind of risk. The only time they have been out of the house was to go to the library on Wednesday. Yesterday they got to play outside for about 30 minutes, but I think it only made the cabin fever worse. Today, I really wanted to visit some Farmers Markets, let the kids run at the park, maybe get to swim (finally.) No such luck. The only thing I was able to do was take them to a certain red and white spotted logo store to use the gift cards they got for their birthdays.
Don't get me wrong, shopping of any kind is fun, and when you don't have to spend your own money to do it, it is even better. Besides that, I love hanging around this particular store. They have a really nice deli/snack bar thing ($2 popcorn and a drink and $3 organic mac and cheese!) and the store is always clean and nice. I have fallen in love with their dollar spot, too. It never fails to amaze me what they manage to come up with that I never knew I needed! The kids love to be able to pick out one or two things that they can afford with their tooth fairy money. I love stocking up on hand towels, tote bags, water bottles, seasonal socks, note pads, hair bands, and a thousand other cool things (who even knew they made extend-able marshmallow roasting forks?) It can be a little dangerous because a dollar here and there can add up, but it is always fun anyway.
What I loved most was seeing how each of the girls decided to spend their money. They all have such different personalities and their spending (or saving) habits really reflect this. LH is an impulse spender of little bitty silly things. She will spend $10 on ten $1 things, most of which won't last the day. She tries to save her money, but it won't last long if she sees a pack of gum or some collectors cards that she wants. TD likes to spend her money more carefully, but she still spreads it out. She will pick out one or two things that she wants, but usually at least one of them is something she will share with her sisters. EG has a difficult time spending money at all. She is the best "saver" in the family and when she finally decides to spend, it is always with the utmost care and after a lengthy debate to make sure it has been spent "wisely."
So, after two hours spent browsing, LH came out with a little throw pillow for her bed, a water mister, a pack of cards for her collection, a bag of fruit chew snacks, and a jumbo sized stick of beef jerky. TD debated back and forth for a long time but finally decided on a new Barbie (because after all, 50 isn't nearly enough, is it?) more of the beef jerky (that she split with EG) and some cotton candy (that she shared with everyone.) EG had more money than anyone because she decided to add her tooth fairy money to her gift card so she was able to get a whole set of Polly clothes with a new Polly (I think they are going for a solid 100 of these things.) Of course, I can't pass up the chance to hit a clearance rack or two, so I found a few things for myself and a thing or two for DH, as well.
At this point, I was more than wiped out for the day and I decided that I was not going to do a single thing until I could get some relief from the aching that has set in to my knees. The rain causes every joint in my body to get stiff, swell up, and ache like they never want to quit. I feel like such a grouchy old hag sitting around, "My bursitis is acting up again! Oh my aching back! Get me an ice pack, will you dear? Where are my pain pills?"
I don't even want to get into the ordeal that I have gone through the past few days trying to actually GET the pain pills. Okay, maybe I do, because I am just so frustrated about it. I hate sounding like a junkie and being a nuisance to the doctor's office and the pharmacy. Seriously, though, it took THREE DAYS to get the prescription filled. The doctor kept saying they had approved it, the pharmacy kept saying they hadn't heard from the doctor's office, and I was out of meds completely for more than two days. It took something like eight calls to get them to figure things out. I hate to admit it, but I was starting to get panicky thinking I was going to have to be without relief for another three days. Again, I hate sounding all, "I need the drugs!" but when there is a certain level of pain relief that you have come to expect, and now you are having to deal with the full force of the pain, it's not a good place to be. I have said it before, and I still believe that the medical staff seriously underestimates the amount of pain I have to deal with on a daily basis. The roller coaster of pain and relief is just exhausting.
Being without pain meds for the last few days was a strong reminder that I AM still sick and I DO have limitations. For the last two days I haven't wanted to do much more than lie down and whimper. I did push through and attempt to be a normal human, but I was just not capable of what I normally should be. My energy level is pretty much shot because I am fighting against the pain all the time, and of course I get grouchy and irritable. Once I was able to get the prescription filled this afternoon, I was feeling much more like myself. I used to think that the pain meds gave me a bit of an energy boost. They really don't. They simply keep me from having to waste what energy I do have on fighting through the aching and stiffness. Now, that I have been able to get a few doses in my system and I am feeling much more myself. I am glad I am able to take such a small dose that I can get relief without any loopiness or ill side effects.
In any case, that is my stream of consciousness for the day. On the whole it has been a good day. Tomorrow we get to have some fun and maybe see some fireworks. I am going to skip out on the parade this year and let DH take the girls instead. I think we will all enjoy the day more if I am not forced to bake in the sun and watch the same 85 classic cars pass that are in the parade every year. Besides, they will be able to enjoy the floats and candy being thrown at them without me fussing all over them. I think we will even be skipping the live concert in the evening. The traffic is such a horrendous mess and sitting right under the fireworks is so loud that I have a feeling we won't miss out by not being there. I might look for another spot to take the kids to watch them from afar and have a late night picnic. There will be more tomorrow night as well, I am sure.
Happy Three Day Weekend to all of you not working this holiday. And to those of you on call (like DH) here's hoping you have a moderate amount of OT for as little as possible work!
Debbie "The Patriot" Lollar
As I suspected, things haven't gone completely as planned, but then again, my plans were pretty loose to begin with. The rain has been here pretty steadily all week. Normally the rain doesn't give me much pause. It is, after all, just water that happens to be falling out of the sky. Here in TX we don't usually have to deal with it for very long stretches at all. Storms whip through this part of the country pretty quickly. Most of us don't own rain boots, or even raincoats. We just wait until the worst of the storm passes and run between the drops.
This storm has been pretty bad, though. There have been reports of tornadoes and flash flooding that can sweep cars, trucks, pets, and people away. My cargo is too precious to take that kind of risk. The only time they have been out of the house was to go to the library on Wednesday. Yesterday they got to play outside for about 30 minutes, but I think it only made the cabin fever worse. Today, I really wanted to visit some Farmers Markets, let the kids run at the park, maybe get to swim (finally.) No such luck. The only thing I was able to do was take them to a certain red and white spotted logo store to use the gift cards they got for their birthdays.
Don't get me wrong, shopping of any kind is fun, and when you don't have to spend your own money to do it, it is even better. Besides that, I love hanging around this particular store. They have a really nice deli/snack bar thing ($2 popcorn and a drink and $3 organic mac and cheese!) and the store is always clean and nice. I have fallen in love with their dollar spot, too. It never fails to amaze me what they manage to come up with that I never knew I needed! The kids love to be able to pick out one or two things that they can afford with their tooth fairy money. I love stocking up on hand towels, tote bags, water bottles, seasonal socks, note pads, hair bands, and a thousand other cool things (who even knew they made extend-able marshmallow roasting forks?) It can be a little dangerous because a dollar here and there can add up, but it is always fun anyway.
What I loved most was seeing how each of the girls decided to spend their money. They all have such different personalities and their spending (or saving) habits really reflect this. LH is an impulse spender of little bitty silly things. She will spend $10 on ten $1 things, most of which won't last the day. She tries to save her money, but it won't last long if she sees a pack of gum or some collectors cards that she wants. TD likes to spend her money more carefully, but she still spreads it out. She will pick out one or two things that she wants, but usually at least one of them is something she will share with her sisters. EG has a difficult time spending money at all. She is the best "saver" in the family and when she finally decides to spend, it is always with the utmost care and after a lengthy debate to make sure it has been spent "wisely."
So, after two hours spent browsing, LH came out with a little throw pillow for her bed, a water mister, a pack of cards for her collection, a bag of fruit chew snacks, and a jumbo sized stick of beef jerky. TD debated back and forth for a long time but finally decided on a new Barbie (because after all, 50 isn't nearly enough, is it?) more of the beef jerky (that she split with EG) and some cotton candy (that she shared with everyone.) EG had more money than anyone because she decided to add her tooth fairy money to her gift card so she was able to get a whole set of Polly clothes with a new Polly (I think they are going for a solid 100 of these things.) Of course, I can't pass up the chance to hit a clearance rack or two, so I found a few things for myself and a thing or two for DH, as well.
At this point, I was more than wiped out for the day and I decided that I was not going to do a single thing until I could get some relief from the aching that has set in to my knees. The rain causes every joint in my body to get stiff, swell up, and ache like they never want to quit. I feel like such a grouchy old hag sitting around, "My bursitis is acting up again! Oh my aching back! Get me an ice pack, will you dear? Where are my pain pills?"
I don't even want to get into the ordeal that I have gone through the past few days trying to actually GET the pain pills. Okay, maybe I do, because I am just so frustrated about it. I hate sounding like a junkie and being a nuisance to the doctor's office and the pharmacy. Seriously, though, it took THREE DAYS to get the prescription filled. The doctor kept saying they had approved it, the pharmacy kept saying they hadn't heard from the doctor's office, and I was out of meds completely for more than two days. It took something like eight calls to get them to figure things out. I hate to admit it, but I was starting to get panicky thinking I was going to have to be without relief for another three days. Again, I hate sounding all, "I need the drugs!" but when there is a certain level of pain relief that you have come to expect, and now you are having to deal with the full force of the pain, it's not a good place to be. I have said it before, and I still believe that the medical staff seriously underestimates the amount of pain I have to deal with on a daily basis. The roller coaster of pain and relief is just exhausting.
Being without pain meds for the last few days was a strong reminder that I AM still sick and I DO have limitations. For the last two days I haven't wanted to do much more than lie down and whimper. I did push through and attempt to be a normal human, but I was just not capable of what I normally should be. My energy level is pretty much shot because I am fighting against the pain all the time, and of course I get grouchy and irritable. Once I was able to get the prescription filled this afternoon, I was feeling much more like myself. I used to think that the pain meds gave me a bit of an energy boost. They really don't. They simply keep me from having to waste what energy I do have on fighting through the aching and stiffness. Now, that I have been able to get a few doses in my system and I am feeling much more myself. I am glad I am able to take such a small dose that I can get relief without any loopiness or ill side effects.
In any case, that is my stream of consciousness for the day. On the whole it has been a good day. Tomorrow we get to have some fun and maybe see some fireworks. I am going to skip out on the parade this year and let DH take the girls instead. I think we will all enjoy the day more if I am not forced to bake in the sun and watch the same 85 classic cars pass that are in the parade every year. Besides, they will be able to enjoy the floats and candy being thrown at them without me fussing all over them. I think we will even be skipping the live concert in the evening. The traffic is such a horrendous mess and sitting right under the fireworks is so loud that I have a feeling we won't miss out by not being there. I might look for another spot to take the kids to watch them from afar and have a late night picnic. There will be more tomorrow night as well, I am sure.
Happy Three Day Weekend to all of you not working this holiday. And to those of you on call (like DH) here's hoping you have a moderate amount of OT for as little as possible work!
Debbie "The Patriot" Lollar
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