Sparks and Butterflies

So, I’m updating the look of the blog, and as part of that had to check on my feed for something.  I went to Feedburner and discovered that apparently my feed ended… Oh about a year ago.  I have now fixed it.  So those people I show up for out of the blue in your reader?  Yeah.  I’ve been around.  You just didn’t know it.

Anyway – In case you’re curious, here the official “real” feed.  Sheesh.  Talk about Blogging 101.

Reality is tough around here.

Reality – my husband, if he’s home, is usually asleep.  Because he’s working while we sleep.  It’s tough.  He (and we) do it anyway.

Reality – my mother’s in the hospital.  Again.  It was touch and go for a while.  Again.  I helped my dad decide on a DNR, should it come to that.  It’s tough.

Reality – my son takes mental health medication.  He’s been off his meds for 6 days due to a medical insurance/Cobra payment  company snafu of Ginormous Proportions.  “Just pay and we’ll reimburse you.”  Sure!  Let me just grab that $900 I have lying around.  Not.  And yes, that’s what my son’s meds cost per month. It’s tough.

Life is tough.  There’s not a lot that one can actually control.  That’s rough on a control freak like myself.  I’m trying to do what I can to control what’s in the realm that I can.  So I’m organizing the household, decorating, cleaning out, trying to make sure it’s a peaceful place from the crazyness.  I’m trying to learn how to do things from scratch to save money.  I make my own laundry detergent now.  I’m learning how to make bread.  Little steps one at a time.  I’m learning more about emergency preparedness.  Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of money right now, so certain things need to wait, but it’s on the list.

Control what you can to prepare for what you can’t.  I’m trying to do that.

I’m sitting here clipping my coupons in preparation to marathon grocery shop tomorrow.  On one sheet there are three different coupons:  Prilosec (which I use due to my GERD and ulcers), diapers, and toilet paper.

It is perfect.

A ton of diapers, a whole lot of shit, and ulcers.

Welcome to parenthood.

I was a band geek…  No, I was a Super Band Geek!  I was in color guard (parade, field show, winter guard) and band (parade, field show, concert, and drum circuit.)  Competition was had, trophies won, new songs and moves learned, and trips taken.  Judges, and medals, uniforms, and more…  It was interesting how I pulled it off.  I truly don’t know that I would have survived high school had I not had that focus and, well, forced community.  It was an important part of my life, and a lot of things surrounding it effected the person I became today.  My family life wasn’t good at the time, and I was able to be a part of something and learn how to participate in a team.

My guard coach, Chuck, passed away recently.  I’m awaiting details, but since he was local to me, I’ll make every attempt to go to his services.  I’m sad.  Another person gone who was a part of my history.  I know that death is part of life, and I know that I wasn’t close to the man.  But still.  I knew him then, he influenced my life then, and that makes him a human being that had an effect on someone during the course of their life.  It’s okay to be sad he’s gone.

So, I started therapy last week.

Friday was therapy day.  I slogged through the morning chores etc. feeling like crap.  I figured it was my sinuses – Logan and my allergies have been acting up lately.  Major fatigue and moving really slow.  Then I had therapy in my home, which she’s doing both to keep Joseph and my therapy separate in different places, and to save me on gas.  I already go to the other therapy center 5 times a month, sometimes more.  The effort is appreciated.

I won’t discuss the content, except to say that she’s focusing a lot on my relationship with God.  This is both needed and really quite surprising considering how I know her.  I’ll take it.

After, I was just basically good for nothing.  I ended up taking what I consider a “depression nap.”  Whenever I’m mentally overwhelmed past capacity, my body shuts down and needs to sleep.  It’s not an escape hatch, it’s like it needs it.  I was even slurring my words.  I only had Joseph at home, so I was able to explain what was going on (having mental issues himself, I can word it in such a way that he gets it) and take a 2 hour nap.  I wasn’t any good the rest of the day either, but at least I was no longer slurring and was functional.  The whole weekend passed in a blur of feeling lazy and like crap and needing to sleep a lot.

Poe says that it’s my body’s way of dealing with crap I haven’t been dealing with just in order to go from one day to the next.  Now, I’m dealing with it, and my body – which has always had pronounced reactions to stress – is reacting.  Poe basically said go with it – don’t fight it – and let it do what it has to do.  In the meantime, don’t fight what’s going on in therapy, just do the work to go through rather than around.

Hmph.

I hate saying the words, “I’m in therapy.”  It feels both cliche and shaming all at once.  But I’m not letting that stop me from doing what’s needed to keep me healthy.

How is it even possible that it’s been this long since I wrote? I don’t have an excuse. The bottom line is I have so many balls up in the air that I’m having trouble juggling.

We went to church last Sunday. It was good. The kids enjoyed Sunday School. I want to get involved again. And yes, there may have been tears during worship. Music is something that connects me very much with God. We attend a denomination that is very demonstrative in their worship of God. I myself am not. It’s a very private thing for me, and I’ll admit I sometimes feel uncomfortable with the demonstrations of faith. HOWEVER – I feel blessed that our church is a place where those who feel the Spirit move them in that way are welcome, and comfortable, and able to express themselves. My discomfort is just that – my problem, not theirs.

We plan on going again this Sunday.  But there’s a hitch coming.  Why do we always have to have a hitch?  Poe’s current job is going away.  I know. But they’re apparently going to keep Poe out of everybody, and put him somewhere else.  For less money.  Again.  And this time his days are going to be Sunday – Thursday.  His hours are such that he’ll miss all the services.  Sigh.  I’m just going to have to buck up and make sure I round up the kids and go by myself when this happens.

I’m going in a different direction at Vineyard Virtual Services, which means I’m in the process of revamping that site, and doing some schooling in order to learn some of the finer points of the new direction.  Basically, I’m nitching myself into being a Virtual Author’s Assistant.  I love books, I enjoy working with authors, and I enjoy the minutia of things like editing and source lists.  It’s a good fit for me.  I knew something needed to change.

Joseph starts school Monday.  That will add some structure to our days.  Today, however, we have back to back therapy sessions, which totally sucks.  It just seems a lot longer than it actually is when there are two sessions close together.  And his therapist suggested that maybe I might want to consider separate therapy for myself.

This is the part where I laugh maniacally and ask her when would I have the time for that?  I have too many meetings for work and the kids and doctors and therapists and school pickups and grocery shopping and cleaning and billing and invoicing and work to day.

And this is the part where she says: Exactly.

She thinks I may have too much on my plate with too little a support system – especially now that Poe’s working full time.  She has a point.  We’ll see where it goes.  I start tomorrow.

I’m having a problem.

I’m not going to church.

It’s very bizarre.  It’s like I have a mental block or something.

My prayer life is better than it was.  I’m reading my Bible every day.  I’ve read it cover to cover, and now I’m reading it in chronological order.  I’m involved in an online Christian bookclub that does Bible studies.

Why can’t I go to church?  Literally, on Sunday, I don’t think of it.  We have a church.  We like the church.  It’s one of the few near us that actually lists the Bible in their Statement of Faith (which is just sad, in my opinion.)  We don’t feel it’s doctrinely unsound.  The pastor hasn’t said anything hinky.  The people were lovely and welcoming.  Joseph liked the kids’ church.

I can’t understand it.  Any thoughts?

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Check out Butterviews for BlogHer…  What caregiving is to me.  There’s a chance for a cruise at BlogHer’s roundup page – so you might want to check it out!  The post is Full Plates and Everything Else.

Well.

Brace yourself.

Poe got a job!

Now, the caveat…  He’s making less than half his previous salary – which also means he’s making less than unemployment brings in.  But – benefits kick in in 90 days, and they promote from within.  We’re hoping he’ll continue to be promoted over time.

This is a very good thing.  It’s good for our finances, it’s good for his state of mind, and frankly, it’s good for me.  Having room to breathe and do my thing has been good.

However.  I don’t deal with change well.  We’re having to learn a new routine because he has a very odd shift.  So, I’m scrapping my whole routine and starting over from scratch.  And then I’ll get to do it again when the kids go back to school.

That’s okay.  He got a job!

I don’t know that we’re going to make the in-laws, Poe’s seeing if he can trade shifts once in a while.  I may take the kids on our camping trip by myself.  We’ll see – automobiles might be an issue there.

Sigh.  These are good problems to have.

Now, I’m going to need to fix our budget.  That’s going to take some time.

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Check out Butterviews for BlogHer…  What caregiving is to me.  There’s a chance for a cruise at BlogHer’s roundup page – so you might want to check it out!  The post is Full Plates and Everything Else.

A quick update around here…  Poe has been on 4 interviews in the past week – all in relation to security and his guard card and firearms permit.  To put that in perspective:  He had 4 interviews prior to this in the entire year and a half he’s been out of work ranging from landscaping to pizza delivery to his educational career (architectural drafting.)  Perhaps this career shift was a smart move on our part?  We shall see.  His interview yesterday he really really wants.  It’s for a major museum, and he said the employee atmosphere was “like family – like WB used to be.”  We shall see.  Please keep us in your prayers, as I think his unemployment ends pretty soon.  Like in the next two weeks.  But we’re trying our best and I guess that’s truly all we can do.  Do our best and give it up in prayer.

The boys are okay.  Driving us crazy being out of school.  Annoying each other has been their pastime.  We’re going camping again in a couple weeks.  That’ll be a good distraction for them.

I’m having a terrible time getting motivated to do anything.  I was sick for a couple of days, and coupled with the major heat, it just has drained me.  I’m trying to get back in the swing of my routine, but it’s been rather difficult to do.  Everyone else has that “summer vacation” attitude and it’s making it difficult for me to be in work mode.  But I’m trying.  My supplemental income is keeping us in food.

Anyway…  I’ve been writing for one of my clients at the Fun and Function blog.  I write under “MicheleW” so those posts are mine if you’re interested.

I’ve also written a post over at Butterviews for BlogHer…  What caregiving is to me.  There’s a chance for a cruise at BlogHer’s roundup page – so you might want to check it out!  The post is Full Plates and Everything Else.

I have realized something. Summer is not my friend. No, not the heat. For southern California, it’s been rather mild. I’m talking about the whole relaxed atmosphere.

On school days, I get up between 5 and 6 am. As a result, I get quite a few things done before the kids wake. Once they’re at school, I have the preliminaries out of the way and I can work. Getting up late, and then the kids getting up means everything takes twice as much time. Alas, this means I have to start getting up at the normal school year time.

I hate being a grownup.