Wow - this is the worst day ever. And I've seen some bad days.
My little guy is trying to cheer me up by making me faucets (that don't look like faucets at all) with Legos and playing the theme song to Star Wars repeatedly. Cute.
I told him I need to pay the bills. He said I should pay them in candy and Popsicles. Good idea.
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Relaxation Done My Way
Today is the day my husband leaves for Africa. The morning before he leaves is normally complete stress and chaos. The weather never cooperates until the weekend before his flight, so we have two days to do all of the outside work that has accumulated over the last two months. This weekend was the same, and I'm grateful the weather was so perfect over the weekend. It's October and my kids are wearing shorts to school - I think that's the only thing I love about living in Ohio - the weather is never what it's supposed to be. It's always a surprise.
To reduce my stress, which has had my blood pressure in the stroke zone over the last week, I did what most people wouldn't consider to be stress relieving. I pressure washed my front porch, cleaned the rail, repainted the rail, and put a five year stain on the floor boards. I finished at 8 PM last night - my husband held a flashlight for me so I could finish the last two boards.
While I painted, I listened to my favorite Bread CD. My husband is younger than me and had never heard of Bread when we got married. Their music relaxes me and instantly sends me back to my first year of college, when life was easy. I went to college in the late eighties, not the early 70's. My friends and I loved 70's music in the 80's. I still do.
While I painted the porch, the troupe of little boys came down the street. They paused, trying to get eye contact - permission to come up and ask me a million questions about what I was doing and to see if they could help. I just wanted to be alone yesterday, so instead of talking to my little friends who often stop to hang out, I sang out loud with my Bread CD. That did drive them away quickly. I do not sing well, but yesterday I didn't care who heard me sing - it bought me privacy.
While I painted, I thought about writing. I came up with a game plan for finishing up the novels I've started. It's a low stress plan, one that made me happy with no pressure to publish, just inclusion of writing in every day because it is meditation for me, it's what I need.
I also decided to take a road trip on my own, or with some writing friends if I can convince them to come with me. I'm going to go to my favorite hotel in North Carolina and sit on the balcony to write while listening to the waves crash on the shore.
To reduce my stress, which has had my blood pressure in the stroke zone over the last week, I did what most people wouldn't consider to be stress relieving. I pressure washed my front porch, cleaned the rail, repainted the rail, and put a five year stain on the floor boards. I finished at 8 PM last night - my husband held a flashlight for me so I could finish the last two boards.
While I painted, I listened to my favorite Bread CD. My husband is younger than me and had never heard of Bread when we got married. Their music relaxes me and instantly sends me back to my first year of college, when life was easy. I went to college in the late eighties, not the early 70's. My friends and I loved 70's music in the 80's. I still do.
While I painted the porch, the troupe of little boys came down the street. They paused, trying to get eye contact - permission to come up and ask me a million questions about what I was doing and to see if they could help. I just wanted to be alone yesterday, so instead of talking to my little friends who often stop to hang out, I sang out loud with my Bread CD. That did drive them away quickly. I do not sing well, but yesterday I didn't care who heard me sing - it bought me privacy.
While I painted, I thought about writing. I came up with a game plan for finishing up the novels I've started. It's a low stress plan, one that made me happy with no pressure to publish, just inclusion of writing in every day because it is meditation for me, it's what I need.
I also decided to take a road trip on my own, or with some writing friends if I can convince them to come with me. I'm going to go to my favorite hotel in North Carolina and sit on the balcony to write while listening to the waves crash on the shore.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
How to Reduce Stress When You're in Over Your Head?
I went to the doctor yesterday about my blood pressure. Just as I got there, my husband sent me a cryptic text letting me know that something was wrong with one of my children. I could feel the effect of the stress of his message in my face and eyeballs. No one needed an ambulance, so I'm thinking it could have waited - at least until they took my blood pressure.
It was 160/110, which prompted the nurse to ask me if she could get me something - that's never a good sign at a doctor's office.
My doctor, whom I've known for 24 years, flipped through the paper version of my chart rather vigorously. Nope, nothing leading up to this. His theory was stress, same as mine.
So he gave me a prescription for blood pressure medicine, a temporary thing just until I somehow manage to get the stress in my life under control.
The question is how do you suddenly control stress after reaching the point that your body wants to check out rather than deal with it anymore? After the point that you haven't controlled it for so long that it's making you sick?
I know sleep and exercise will help. Getting enough sleep is a tricky thing when you have chronic insomnia and your alarm clock starts chiming at 5 AM to wake up the kids. Exercise is hard for me because I have a foot and back problem. Those two things I definitely need to work on.
Today, now, I'm going to take my ten-year-old outside, the one that never gives me a headache (sorry to say that out loud, the other two of you). I'm going to take him out to work on the garden, waterproof the front porch, and paint the rail. Hopefully I can do that with a smile on my face and without hurting my foot or back. I know that sounds crazy, like that isn't relaxing, but it is to me - and it will make me feel better to have it done.
I also committed to going back on my uber-healthy vegetarian diet (plus fish) that I was on before I got married - at a time when I was healthy, in the best shape of my life. It's too much to cook differently for me and four other people, so my family will be getting healthy too. They'll get used to it, right? I love cooking (unless it gets to the point where it makes my foot hurt) - today I will cook - it will be beans and vegetables, but it will be fun.
My husband is off to Africa again for another two weeks, the first of three trips between now and January. Part of my stress is his procrastination in getting things done. I think it's time to outsource the work. I'm not sure if having people in the house and handing them money will up my stress or make everything magically better. I guess I'll find out - one handyman, house cleaner, or contractor at a time.
When my husband comes back, maybe I can disappear alone for a couple of weeks. Somewhere with ocean (it's OK if the water is too cold - I don't like to get wet anyway). Maybe I can plan a girl-trip with some of my writing friends, and we can write and laugh and drink and be peaceful for as long as we can afford it. Anyone in?
It was 160/110, which prompted the nurse to ask me if she could get me something - that's never a good sign at a doctor's office.
My doctor, whom I've known for 24 years, flipped through the paper version of my chart rather vigorously. Nope, nothing leading up to this. His theory was stress, same as mine.
So he gave me a prescription for blood pressure medicine, a temporary thing just until I somehow manage to get the stress in my life under control.
The question is how do you suddenly control stress after reaching the point that your body wants to check out rather than deal with it anymore? After the point that you haven't controlled it for so long that it's making you sick?
I know sleep and exercise will help. Getting enough sleep is a tricky thing when you have chronic insomnia and your alarm clock starts chiming at 5 AM to wake up the kids. Exercise is hard for me because I have a foot and back problem. Those two things I definitely need to work on.
Today, now, I'm going to take my ten-year-old outside, the one that never gives me a headache (sorry to say that out loud, the other two of you). I'm going to take him out to work on the garden, waterproof the front porch, and paint the rail. Hopefully I can do that with a smile on my face and without hurting my foot or back. I know that sounds crazy, like that isn't relaxing, but it is to me - and it will make me feel better to have it done.
I also committed to going back on my uber-healthy vegetarian diet (plus fish) that I was on before I got married - at a time when I was healthy, in the best shape of my life. It's too much to cook differently for me and four other people, so my family will be getting healthy too. They'll get used to it, right? I love cooking (unless it gets to the point where it makes my foot hurt) - today I will cook - it will be beans and vegetables, but it will be fun.
My husband is off to Africa again for another two weeks, the first of three trips between now and January. Part of my stress is his procrastination in getting things done. I think it's time to outsource the work. I'm not sure if having people in the house and handing them money will up my stress or make everything magically better. I guess I'll find out - one handyman, house cleaner, or contractor at a time.
When my husband comes back, maybe I can disappear alone for a couple of weeks. Somewhere with ocean (it's OK if the water is too cold - I don't like to get wet anyway). Maybe I can plan a girl-trip with some of my writing friends, and we can write and laugh and drink and be peaceful for as long as we can afford it. Anyone in?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Stolen Guns
My dad called yesterday morning to tell us his house was broken into the night before while he wasn't home. His guns - many guns - were stolen. He didn't know the serial numbers - most of the guns he's had since I was a kid. He thought there would be no use in calling the police if he didn't know the numbers.
My ex husband was a cop. I know that someone has your numbers even if you don't - and they will be knocking on your door if someone uses your gun in a crime even years down the road. That did convince him to call the Sheriff's Department - I was ready to call for him.
I think the thing they don't reveal on TV shows like Law and Order and NCIS is that people desperate enough to steal guns (to presumably sell) are often kind of stupid. It may not take much police work to catch them. A simple knock on the neighbors' doors to ask if anyone saw anything may be all it takes. Unlike the people on police shows, real people in rural Ohio have no tolerance for criminals (which is why they have guns) - I am sure they will be very helpful. The criminals came in through an old, heavy garage door - unless they wore gloves on a hot evening, the prints are there somewhere - it definitely takes two hands to open and lift it.
He has been worried lately about the neighbors and about his house being broken into. I thought his fears were unfounded. He lives in a little neighborhood about an hour from the city. There are horses meandering in the field behind his house - he has owned the house for more than forty years and until now knew all the neighbors.
I admit I had the creeps when I lived at his house when I was a kid, mostly because it was so quiet at night you could hear the crunch of grass under a kitten's foot. I am certain it would take at least 30 minutes for a 911 response - so you are kind of on your own if something goes bad.
After I got off the phone with my husband, we pondered why anyone would know he had guns. Then it hit me - it's the plethora of NRA stickers on his car. They are an advertisement.
I feel very uncomfortable this morning - my mind can't help but spin plot around this. I see what could happen - not what has. I see my dad living alone, sleeping with a gun in his hand, waiting for the intruders to return. I see him as a much older and less coordinated Clint Eastwood in Grand Torino - and not as good of a shot. I fear the people who did this will come back for more, or the stress of anticipating their return will up his blood pressure to the point he literally dies of worry. I imagine the same thing he does - the thieves are living next door and are cleaning his guns, waiting to use them.
My ex husband was a cop. I know that someone has your numbers even if you don't - and they will be knocking on your door if someone uses your gun in a crime even years down the road. That did convince him to call the Sheriff's Department - I was ready to call for him.
I think the thing they don't reveal on TV shows like Law and Order and NCIS is that people desperate enough to steal guns (to presumably sell) are often kind of stupid. It may not take much police work to catch them. A simple knock on the neighbors' doors to ask if anyone saw anything may be all it takes. Unlike the people on police shows, real people in rural Ohio have no tolerance for criminals (which is why they have guns) - I am sure they will be very helpful. The criminals came in through an old, heavy garage door - unless they wore gloves on a hot evening, the prints are there somewhere - it definitely takes two hands to open and lift it.
He has been worried lately about the neighbors and about his house being broken into. I thought his fears were unfounded. He lives in a little neighborhood about an hour from the city. There are horses meandering in the field behind his house - he has owned the house for more than forty years and until now knew all the neighbors.
I admit I had the creeps when I lived at his house when I was a kid, mostly because it was so quiet at night you could hear the crunch of grass under a kitten's foot. I am certain it would take at least 30 minutes for a 911 response - so you are kind of on your own if something goes bad.
After I got off the phone with my husband, we pondered why anyone would know he had guns. Then it hit me - it's the plethora of NRA stickers on his car. They are an advertisement.
I feel very uncomfortable this morning - my mind can't help but spin plot around this. I see what could happen - not what has. I see my dad living alone, sleeping with a gun in his hand, waiting for the intruders to return. I see him as a much older and less coordinated Clint Eastwood in Grand Torino - and not as good of a shot. I fear the people who did this will come back for more, or the stress of anticipating their return will up his blood pressure to the point he literally dies of worry. I imagine the same thing he does - the thieves are living next door and are cleaning his guns, waiting to use them.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Back in the Game
I am definitely back in writing mode, a place I haven't visited much over the last eight weeks. I wrote two chapters this week and did some edits to the first four of my new story. The exciting thing is this: when I was in the shower today, I found myself spinning plot and dialogue and writing the next chapter in my mind, the ending chapter for the first of five sections of my new novel. Yay! It feels very good, although everything else in my life feels very difficult - with no end in sight until the last day of school - 11 or so school days away.
I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait. I need a summer break.
I wonder why the teachers can't maybe schedule the concerts, parties, Right to Read week, field trip after field trip, to be spread out over the last quarter instead of all in the last 12 days. My son's teacher had to send two spreadsheets home explaining the daily craziness and what they need to bring with them to school every day. One involves a costume. She said it was no big thing - we could buy the costumes at a thrift store if we want. I say she should take them on a field trip to the thrift store. I got no time. Note: I have three kids, not just one. I know am not alone.
I am alone in that I have a foot problem that makes it nearly impossible to shop even for groceries, and my husband will be out of the country the next two weeks and has been in workaholic mode for more than a week - instead of the more desirable errand-running mode.
My older children seem to have lost their hearing. The babes is in full two-year-old mode and apparently has forgotten how to sleep in his bed. When I say, "Lay down in your bed," he says, "I don't know how." The problem is he believes it. So he doesn't sleep. "Close your eyes," I say. Him: "I don't know how."
Yesterday this climaxed to the point that I felt like an aerosol can that was squeezed in a vice and then punctured. Those who squeezed and poked it didn't seem to realize it would explode.
I wish I had time to write a chapter today - no chance of it. And my favorite notebook where I could have written my notes from the shower is missing. Writing would make me feel less stressed.
I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait. I need a summer break.
I wonder why the teachers can't maybe schedule the concerts, parties, Right to Read week, field trip after field trip, to be spread out over the last quarter instead of all in the last 12 days. My son's teacher had to send two spreadsheets home explaining the daily craziness and what they need to bring with them to school every day. One involves a costume. She said it was no big thing - we could buy the costumes at a thrift store if we want. I say she should take them on a field trip to the thrift store. I got no time. Note: I have three kids, not just one. I know am not alone.
I am alone in that I have a foot problem that makes it nearly impossible to shop even for groceries, and my husband will be out of the country the next two weeks and has been in workaholic mode for more than a week - instead of the more desirable errand-running mode.
My older children seem to have lost their hearing. The babes is in full two-year-old mode and apparently has forgotten how to sleep in his bed. When I say, "Lay down in your bed," he says, "I don't know how." The problem is he believes it. So he doesn't sleep. "Close your eyes," I say. Him: "I don't know how."
Yesterday this climaxed to the point that I felt like an aerosol can that was squeezed in a vice and then punctured. Those who squeezed and poked it didn't seem to realize it would explode.
I wish I had time to write a chapter today - no chance of it. And my favorite notebook where I could have written my notes from the shower is missing. Writing would make me feel less stressed.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Escape into Motherhood
I have had a very rough week at home this week with lots of pressure and parenting issues coming up. As I have mentioned in some of my previous entries, I have a couple of medical problems that lately are restricting me to the house and have limited a lot of the activities I can do. When I'm stressed out, I can't put on my gym shoes and go for a run to combat the stress because of a nerve injury in my foot. I can't get on the phone and chat it up with old friends to forget about my week or get their input - I have a nodule in my neck - it hurts when I talk more than a few quiet words. On top of that, none of my friends are at the same place I am. I don't know anyone that has children with the age range of mine, and most of my friends don't share my parenting style, so I don't think that talking with them would minimize my stress at all.
When I was younger before I had kids, I had so many opportunities to escape. I could read a book all night long and escape into the plot and characters. I could go to a concert on the fly, have a few drinks, and meet new people. I could go to college and divert my mind from my life by learning new things.
Before my last pregnancy, my kids were old enough that I could take a road trip with them, take an impromptu vacation to the beach. I could opt to drive 12 hours overnight to our favorite hotel in North Carolina and hang out at the beach or the pool and laugh and relax for hours with two children who still loved to just hang out with each other and me. We would go to the ice cream shop by the pier and check out the strange catch of the day from the fishermen at the end. Every day you could count on someone catching a baby shark, a crab, or something completely unexpected. Thinking about it now I can almost smell the chocolate ice cream melting all over my son's hands, the sunscreen slathered on our too pale skin, and the salt in the air. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face as I sit quietly here in my bed with my laptop on my lap while I rest my injured foot.
Before my last baby, and honestly before my last marriage, I could happily escape with my kids - to a movie, to laser tag, to a restaurant, to anywhere. Every moment wasn't perfect, but we had the freedom to do whatever we wanted, and they were at an age where they wanted to go on adventures with me.
Now that I am re-married, have a two year old again, and my oldest is getting too old to completely enjoy our company, I am suddenly struck by the fact that I have no real opportunity to escape except to write. And writing I can never do uninterrupted. Just now my husband walked in, saw clearly that I was taking five minutes out of my life to write, and chose to not respect that need. If I were working, I could leave to go to work. He gets to leave. If I were working, I would have the satisfaction of people, someone, anyone, telling me I am important and useful at least once in a while. If I were working, I would have a change of scenery, other adults to say hello to. I just want him to understand that I am giving that up. He doesn't understand.
I actually am at the point of giving up on needing the understanding of others - OK, I need it, but I know now I'm not going to get it and need to carry on. I need to find another way to cope, to feel like I'm not completely restrained. Writing is definitely good. I think starting today, I need to leave the house, grab my cane and some pain meds and just go to a coffee shop, a library, or the cafe at a local bookstore and have a change of scenery while I write. I need to go alone and not bring my kids. They are usually done with the scenery in exactly one hour. I would like two. Two hours for me can't be that much to ask for.
I realized yesterday as I smiled watching my toddler prepare for me pretend food in his pretend kitchen and bring samples to me to pretend to taste, that I do get so much satisfaction from hanging out with him - just the two of us. I feel the same with my big kids too. I try every day to have a bonding moment with each of them. It really is the best thing - even if it's only laughing together about what happened in gym class or about something on tv.
I no longer have options to check out for hours or stay up all night to read a book. I have to get the laundry done and prepare meals. I need to make sure the house is at least clean enough. I need my big kids to know I am there to support them, that I am a big warm blanket for them always. I can't leave town for a few days, I can't do any sports right now, and I can't go to the bar like many of my friends and get lost in a pitcher of frozen margaritas. The season for escaping in the garden is over. What I do have is what I have - my kids, my house, cookies and wonderful meals to bake, holiday fun to plan, and my writing.
I wanted to go to graduate school soon, but I think my medical issues are going to delay that more than I would hope. No one seems to be handling things if I leave one night a week for writing class. I think I definitely need to plan on going to graduate school during the day once my small man is in kindergarten. I think that's the best I can do. Time goes by quickly, so that day should be here soon.
When I was younger before I had kids, I had so many opportunities to escape. I could read a book all night long and escape into the plot and characters. I could go to a concert on the fly, have a few drinks, and meet new people. I could go to college and divert my mind from my life by learning new things.
Before my last pregnancy, my kids were old enough that I could take a road trip with them, take an impromptu vacation to the beach. I could opt to drive 12 hours overnight to our favorite hotel in North Carolina and hang out at the beach or the pool and laugh and relax for hours with two children who still loved to just hang out with each other and me. We would go to the ice cream shop by the pier and check out the strange catch of the day from the fishermen at the end. Every day you could count on someone catching a baby shark, a crab, or something completely unexpected. Thinking about it now I can almost smell the chocolate ice cream melting all over my son's hands, the sunscreen slathered on our too pale skin, and the salt in the air. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face as I sit quietly here in my bed with my laptop on my lap while I rest my injured foot.
Before my last baby, and honestly before my last marriage, I could happily escape with my kids - to a movie, to laser tag, to a restaurant, to anywhere. Every moment wasn't perfect, but we had the freedom to do whatever we wanted, and they were at an age where they wanted to go on adventures with me.
Now that I am re-married, have a two year old again, and my oldest is getting too old to completely enjoy our company, I am suddenly struck by the fact that I have no real opportunity to escape except to write. And writing I can never do uninterrupted. Just now my husband walked in, saw clearly that I was taking five minutes out of my life to write, and chose to not respect that need. If I were working, I could leave to go to work. He gets to leave. If I were working, I would have the satisfaction of people, someone, anyone, telling me I am important and useful at least once in a while. If I were working, I would have a change of scenery, other adults to say hello to. I just want him to understand that I am giving that up. He doesn't understand.
I actually am at the point of giving up on needing the understanding of others - OK, I need it, but I know now I'm not going to get it and need to carry on. I need to find another way to cope, to feel like I'm not completely restrained. Writing is definitely good. I think starting today, I need to leave the house, grab my cane and some pain meds and just go to a coffee shop, a library, or the cafe at a local bookstore and have a change of scenery while I write. I need to go alone and not bring my kids. They are usually done with the scenery in exactly one hour. I would like two. Two hours for me can't be that much to ask for.
I realized yesterday as I smiled watching my toddler prepare for me pretend food in his pretend kitchen and bring samples to me to pretend to taste, that I do get so much satisfaction from hanging out with him - just the two of us. I feel the same with my big kids too. I try every day to have a bonding moment with each of them. It really is the best thing - even if it's only laughing together about what happened in gym class or about something on tv.
I no longer have options to check out for hours or stay up all night to read a book. I have to get the laundry done and prepare meals. I need to make sure the house is at least clean enough. I need my big kids to know I am there to support them, that I am a big warm blanket for them always. I can't leave town for a few days, I can't do any sports right now, and I can't go to the bar like many of my friends and get lost in a pitcher of frozen margaritas. The season for escaping in the garden is over. What I do have is what I have - my kids, my house, cookies and wonderful meals to bake, holiday fun to plan, and my writing.
I wanted to go to graduate school soon, but I think my medical issues are going to delay that more than I would hope. No one seems to be handling things if I leave one night a week for writing class. I think I definitely need to plan on going to graduate school during the day once my small man is in kindergarten. I think that's the best I can do. Time goes by quickly, so that day should be here soon.
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