Or maybe they're just "resting their eyes."
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Creative Laundry Solutions of the Week
Apparently Pippi still hasn't put together the "logic" of bringing her laundry to me on the weekends to be done. Or maybe she's making fun of me. I guess I'll never know
"Mom," Pippi says, "Hunter and I are ready for a walk." And so we went.
Can I just keep her like this forever? She is SO much fun.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Jilting of Granny Weatherall
It was strange opening that box and finding my old report cards and a bunch of my highschool English papers from Junior year. One essay in particular caught the Warlock's eye. He thought it very strange that I would write an essay about death a decade and a half before losing my daughter.
At age 16 I don't think I understood half of what I read. The Jilting of Granny Weatherall is about loss. The losses of life of health of independence of a groom, a husband, a baby... I couldn't see at 16 how brilliant Katherine Ann Porter was when she wrote this story. She unifies all loss showing what it does to us and how we must push through it, with faith.
For example, tonight Pippi "lost" her backpack. She wandered around the house in her pajamas, fatigued, but emotional, and searching. "Mom there's important stuff in there. Stuff about my field trip. " And then Pippi proceeded to tell me about it, all the things she will need Friday. Part of her expectation was her showing me this paperwork so I could help her get ready for this exciting field trip.
This is an example of something small that was lost for a moment. The loss caused much frustration and confusion. Granny Weatherall remembers telling her children, "I want you to pick all the fruit this year and see nothing is wasted. There’s always someone who can use it. Don’t let good things rot for want of using. You waste life when you waste good food. Don’t let things get lost. It’s bitter to lose things..."
No matter what the loss is, it is bitter. I know loss. I feel the panic of losing my keys almost everyday. I've lost my wallet in a NYC gypsy cab. I've lost my daughter for a short time to death. And I see the losses of others. And I ache for them.
As a sixteen year-old I really thought that nothing really terrible would ever happen to me. It couldn't because...stuff like that didn't happen to me. And I didn't worry. I never could have anticipated the sorrow that I would feel in my adult life. But I like Katherine Anne Porter's abruptness, "Wounded vanity, Ellen, said a sharp voice in the top of her mind. Don’t let your wounded vanity get the upper hand of you. Plenty of girls get jilted. You were jilted, weren’t you? Then stand up to it. " Though I feel sorrow deeply for myself, and for others, it is my hope that I will never feel lost in sorrow, lost in fear. Just like Granny after her first loss, I have a lot of work to do and life to live. I don't want to waste it.
At age 16 I don't think I understood half of what I read. The Jilting of Granny Weatherall is about loss. The losses of life of health of independence of a groom, a husband, a baby... I couldn't see at 16 how brilliant Katherine Ann Porter was when she wrote this story. She unifies all loss showing what it does to us and how we must push through it, with faith.
For example, tonight Pippi "lost" her backpack. She wandered around the house in her pajamas, fatigued, but emotional, and searching. "Mom there's important stuff in there. Stuff about my field trip. " And then Pippi proceeded to tell me about it, all the things she will need Friday. Part of her expectation was her showing me this paperwork so I could help her get ready for this exciting field trip.
This is an example of something small that was lost for a moment. The loss caused much frustration and confusion. Granny Weatherall remembers telling her children, "I want you to pick all the fruit this year and see nothing is wasted. There’s always someone who can use it. Don’t let good things rot for want of using. You waste life when you waste good food. Don’t let things get lost. It’s bitter to lose things..."
No matter what the loss is, it is bitter. I know loss. I feel the panic of losing my keys almost everyday. I've lost my wallet in a NYC gypsy cab. I've lost my daughter for a short time to death. And I see the losses of others. And I ache for them.
As a sixteen year-old I really thought that nothing really terrible would ever happen to me. It couldn't because...stuff like that didn't happen to me. And I didn't worry. I never could have anticipated the sorrow that I would feel in my adult life. But I like Katherine Anne Porter's abruptness, "Wounded vanity, Ellen, said a sharp voice in the top of her mind. Don’t let your wounded vanity get the upper hand of you. Plenty of girls get jilted. You were jilted, weren’t you? Then stand up to it. " Though I feel sorrow deeply for myself, and for others, it is my hope that I will never feel lost in sorrow, lost in fear. Just like Granny after her first loss, I have a lot of work to do and life to live. I don't want to waste it.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Chopped
That's what I did to my hair. Little life changes, like chopping hair, seem to draw attention. Everyone has to acknowledge that they noticed, even if they haven't figured out whether or not they like it.
Here are the most common responses:
"You cut your hair!"
"Cute!" (in a squeal)
"It looks good."
"Do you like it?"
"How does it feel?"
Here are some unique responses:
"You look...all grown up. No. Really. Very sophisticated.":-) (Thanks Tamany.)
"That works on you."
"You look like my Aunt Deb, twenty years ago. Deb was always my favorite." (Only the Warlock would be so bold.)
"You look like the kind of woman who's ready at a moment's notice to pick up and go backpacking. You look like you." (This was also from the Warlock.)
Here are the most common responses:
"You cut your hair!"
"Cute!" (in a squeal)
"It looks good."
"Do you like it?"
"How does it feel?"
Here are some unique responses:
"You look...all grown up. No. Really. Very sophisticated.":-) (Thanks Tamany.)
"That works on you."
"You look like my Aunt Deb, twenty years ago. Deb was always my favorite." (Only the Warlock would be so bold.)
"You look like the kind of woman who's ready at a moment's notice to pick up and go backpacking. You look like you." (This was also from the Warlock.)
Experiments with Love and Logic
Recently I read Love and Logic Magic for Early Childhood by Jim Fay and Charles Fay. I realized that I have been protecting my children from natural consequences and depriving them of lessons that they are ready to learn.
For example, after reading this book, I decided that I would stop nagging Pippi. I vowed that I would only remind her once to do a chore and then I would do them for payment. For awhile, I found myself getting quite the collection of wigs, and I even earned ten dollars (all of Pippi's money) for cleaning up the yard. I was worried that I would have a closet full of toys and be left doing all the housework for myself. But it didn't happen that way. Pippi started asking me, "How can I help you Mom?" I realized that Pippi doesn't really like working ALONE.
I decided that I would not take Pippi's laundry down to the laundry room for her. I reminded her once, and I waited--ten days. We had a couple nights of tears because she was out of jeans for then next day. She ended up finding ways around actually carrying her laundry baskets downstairs. For instance one day she spot cleaned the catsup off her jeans so she could wear them out of the dirty clothes. She also discovered that she liked a couple of shirts that she said she didn't like before. She begged her Dad and me for oversized shirts to wear for pajamas. It was comical to watch her function with bare drawers. Finally, one night she broke down. She needed clean jeans. I gently told her that I was much too tired to do laundry at night but I would be happy to do it in the morning if she took it down. Not satisfied, she took her own laundry down and asked me to show her how to work the washer. She must not have liked the chore (she is really much too short to reach the detergent) because she's been much better about bringing me her laundry lately.
I have to admit it was hard not to take up nail biting as I waited for Pippi to figure out that her life really does go much better when she does what she's told. But I like being patient way more than I like being a stressed out screamer.
Bardo is also responding well to "love and logic." I've been disciplining annoying behavior the first time rather than giving 1, 2, or 3 thousand chances. Bardo is very determined to be "sweet" and really only requires a 2 second time out (most of the time).
I've also used constant questions to get Bardo to do things. All day long I give him alternatives. I have to use my imagination a little and I'm sure I sound really stupid with the constant questions (Do you want me throw you into bed or do you want to crawl into bed?), but man, it's worth it to get this little boy to go with the flow.
And Noel? She's training me. As long as I feed her, play with her for a little bit, and change her diapers, she's a happy camper.
For example, after reading this book, I decided that I would stop nagging Pippi. I vowed that I would only remind her once to do a chore and then I would do them for payment. For awhile, I found myself getting quite the collection of wigs, and I even earned ten dollars (all of Pippi's money) for cleaning up the yard. I was worried that I would have a closet full of toys and be left doing all the housework for myself. But it didn't happen that way. Pippi started asking me, "How can I help you Mom?" I realized that Pippi doesn't really like working ALONE.
I decided that I would not take Pippi's laundry down to the laundry room for her. I reminded her once, and I waited--ten days. We had a couple nights of tears because she was out of jeans for then next day. She ended up finding ways around actually carrying her laundry baskets downstairs. For instance one day she spot cleaned the catsup off her jeans so she could wear them out of the dirty clothes. She also discovered that she liked a couple of shirts that she said she didn't like before. She begged her Dad and me for oversized shirts to wear for pajamas. It was comical to watch her function with bare drawers. Finally, one night she broke down. She needed clean jeans. I gently told her that I was much too tired to do laundry at night but I would be happy to do it in the morning if she took it down. Not satisfied, she took her own laundry down and asked me to show her how to work the washer. She must not have liked the chore (she is really much too short to reach the detergent) because she's been much better about bringing me her laundry lately.
I have to admit it was hard not to take up nail biting as I waited for Pippi to figure out that her life really does go much better when she does what she's told. But I like being patient way more than I like being a stressed out screamer.
Bardo is also responding well to "love and logic." I've been disciplining annoying behavior the first time rather than giving 1, 2, or 3 thousand chances. Bardo is very determined to be "sweet" and really only requires a 2 second time out (most of the time).
I've also used constant questions to get Bardo to do things. All day long I give him alternatives. I have to use my imagination a little and I'm sure I sound really stupid with the constant questions (Do you want me throw you into bed or do you want to crawl into bed?), but man, it's worth it to get this little boy to go with the flow.
And Noel? She's training me. As long as I feed her, play with her for a little bit, and change her diapers, she's a happy camper.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Skinny Witch...er...Warlock Chronicle
An unnamed somebody recently told me about addiction and the stages addicts go through in breaking their addiction. They will try, and fail, and fall down, and try, and fail, and fall down, and so on. Except every time they fall down, they don't fall down quite as far as the place they were before (mentally, at least), until they are able to get enough traction to break free.
Sometimes, the breaking free requires a major life event. In my case, it required somebody else's event.
One of my closest friends, to whom I owe a great emotional debt (and a greater one now), broke free from his own addiction a short time ago. Oh, he had help along the way, but (and he will deny this, perhaps) it was his own willpower and desire that gave him strength to succeed after years of trying.
And it is his strength and willpower that has given me the will to face my own addiction.
Most people who know me don't think I'm overweight. But I am. Most people don't realize that food is an addiction to me. But it is.
There are many reasons for this: the time that I broke my leg and was abandoned to my own devices and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups; the late nights at the office with food for company in my loneliness; the medication with food when I was sad when Stacy passed away; the social nature of lunches with coworkers and friends; the general thrill of being a "foodie". None of them are really important now.
I've tried to lose weight before. But it never worked. I'd lose a few pounds, gain a couple back, and then just give up when I cheated that first time because I was discouraged. That's happened three or four times a year.
But this time has been different. My friend has inspired me to break my own cycle of addiction.
On January 23, I was 250 lbs.
Saturday I was 224.
I don't know exactly why I'm posting this for all to see. Maybe it's because I'm proud that I've finally gained some traction. Maybe it's to make myself a bit more publicly accountable (although the cynic in you - and me - will point out that I only chose to do so after I'd already lost a bunch. Coward.). Maybe it's because the catharsis of doing so is a necessary part of the recovery process (Step 5 of AA, anyone?).
For the record, I considered doing a Silly Witch style post with naught but a title and before and after shots in my skivvies. But you really don't want to see that.
Sometimes, the breaking free requires a major life event. In my case, it required somebody else's event.
One of my closest friends, to whom I owe a great emotional debt (and a greater one now), broke free from his own addiction a short time ago. Oh, he had help along the way, but (and he will deny this, perhaps) it was his own willpower and desire that gave him strength to succeed after years of trying.
And it is his strength and willpower that has given me the will to face my own addiction.
Most people who know me don't think I'm overweight. But I am. Most people don't realize that food is an addiction to me. But it is.
There are many reasons for this: the time that I broke my leg and was abandoned to my own devices and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups; the late nights at the office with food for company in my loneliness; the medication with food when I was sad when Stacy passed away; the social nature of lunches with coworkers and friends; the general thrill of being a "foodie". None of them are really important now.
I've tried to lose weight before. But it never worked. I'd lose a few pounds, gain a couple back, and then just give up when I cheated that first time because I was discouraged. That's happened three or four times a year.
But this time has been different. My friend has inspired me to break my own cycle of addiction.
On January 23, I was 250 lbs.
Saturday I was 224.
I don't know exactly why I'm posting this for all to see. Maybe it's because I'm proud that I've finally gained some traction. Maybe it's to make myself a bit more publicly accountable (although the cynic in you - and me - will point out that I only chose to do so after I'd already lost a bunch. Coward.). Maybe it's because the catharsis of doing so is a necessary part of the recovery process (Step 5 of AA, anyone?).
For the record, I considered doing a Silly Witch style post with naught but a title and before and after shots in my skivvies. But you really don't want to see that.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
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