November 26

One of Sarah’s teachers told me that Sarah spontaneously came over and kissed her on the head. The teacher said her heart just overflowed.

Amy saved Thanksgiving. I seem to have a thing with turkeys. A few years ago I ordered two heritage turkeys. My turkeys arrived in a brown box with no instructions to open immediately. I put it to the side with some other boxes that I knew were early Christmas presents. And by “to the side” I mean next to the radiator. After a couple days I opened the box and realized my error. Luckily the turkeys had been frozen and inside styrofoam so they were actually still ok, as if they had been in the fridge because they had defrosted to that point. When I complained to the company about their lack of a large label they said I was the first person to ever not open the box right away. Well then. This year I picked up the turkey on Tuesday from a farm-share coordinator. Tuesday was a go go go day from start to finish. Got the kids to school, taught, got the turkey, put the turkey in the trunk, got Sarah from school, zoomed to vision therapy, zoomed to get Amy, went home for them to relax while I got ready for the next day and for my second round of teaching. Luckily Amy happened to ask me how many turkeys I got this year. ACK! Turkey in the trunk!!! Luckily it was still cold and had only leaked a little blood into my car and onto my kitchen floor. Next year maybe I won’t pre-order a turkey from anyone but will go to a store and go directly home without any distractions.

Vision therapy went well enough but I think we may need a different time slot than immediately after school. Firstly, I am stressed to get there on time and then we must leave exactly on time to get Amy. Secondly, Sarah was screaming in protest when we arrived. Sarah’s equilibrium returned when she had a surprise snack of bunny grahams (no other snacks that were offered were considered and she didn’t even know I had the bunnies). She asked repeatedly to go home. She used the potty twice in the 50 minutes we were there. She also played with some toys and did a few things that the therapist set up for her. We have things we can do at home. So I think it went well but I hope I can help it go more smoothly in the future.

Amy sang a song about how much she loves Sarah. One line included “Sarah, you’re the best in the family.” This morning Amy sighed contentedly while saying, “I love you, Mom. And I love Sarah even more.” Carl and I know where we stand! Actually, I think Amy’s heart just overflows with love for lots of people. What two little sweethearts I live with! Sometimes whiny, messy, and obnoxious, but loving sweethearts just the same. 

Sarah asked Carl what he was thankful for. I know that is a question we had been asking and maybe was asked at school, but the fact that she could whip it out spontaneously, appropriately, clearly, and fully is something I am grateful for!

My headache beast is stalking, circling, assessing. I still think I can manage. The whispers don’t go beyond a level 1 and they don’t last for more than about 10 or 20 minutes. The more relaxed I can be the more easily I can let go of the beast. I am still on a bit of medication but it is the lowest dose. I don’t want to increase it. Neither am I ready to go all the way off. Probably not until the holiday season is over. One’s first mountain should not be Everest. With every Jenny-Rise session I get clearer about which specific areas to remember when I am going through noting every taut fraughtness and encouraging ease. It is almost like mapping out which cells to speak to. Last week some of the massage work was around my eye, as close as one could be to my eyeball. There was one little spot that referred to the knife that I feel when I have a headache. So now when I feel a whisper I go to those cells around my eye in that one spot and remind them to sit down and rest. I never thought I would daydream about someone basically sticking their finger in my eye, but here I am doing just that.

While postponing cleaning and cooking on Wednesday, I wrote these poems. My head really hasn’t been bad, but some whispers have been strong enough to inspire these feelings. 

the beast roars with silent teeth

to puncture from the inside

tearing pressing pushing bruising

mouth tightly tautly open wide

panic fills my head, my soul

i cannot fully breathe

I cannot do this one more time

i’m slipping underneath 

a gentle hand tames the beast

holds my fear, looks in my eye

finds the locks and every key

wipes my tears while I cry

I climb slowly, steadily

wrestling my shell

silently praying

grasping upwards out of hell

Those hands again

it will be alright

i’ll make it through,

and sleep sweet sleep tonight.

--------------------------

I am stalked by a silent beast

shadowing my every move

then disappearing so fully 

i wonder that it was ever there

then it clamps down again

teeth gently sharp and waiting

the less i breathe the sharper they are

the beast is me

it is in how I move and live 

i have to love it into oblivion

running makes it stronger

like trying to outrun a bee

it gets caught in my windstream and we cannot part

I have to be so still

so calm

so unhurried

impossibly unbusy

————————————

Happy Thanksgiving. I love you all (and I love Sarah even more!) I send you kisses on your heads.

November 19

I have had some strong feelings this week. 

It is as if there was a party and people had to vote on what food to serve and only one food could be chosen. One option was gluten-free on a paper plate and so a lot of people were not very enthused. The other option was banana bread on a china plate. Everyone who voted for the banana bread said, “the great thing is that the baker tells you all of the ingredients!” The ingredients include walnuts. Over half the country clamors loudly that they are either mildly or severely allergic to walnuts. Those who vote for the banana bread say, “don’t worry, he probably didn’t actually mean he would include walnuts. Go ahead and have some.”  This was not politics as usual. This was under half of the country saying, “we don’t really want gluten-free” while over half of the country was screaming, “for the love of God walnuts are poison to us! Please do not poison us!” and the Trump voters saying, “well, suck it up, you’ll be ok, why are you all so mad?” I may not personally have a walnut allergy, but I care deeply about those who do. Sarah has a literal, anaphylactic allergy to actual walnuts. I have such a sympathetic allergy that I no longer eat walnuts and I nearly drop packages when I see walnuts in the ingredient list. I considered being a walnut for Halloween some year because I find them so scary, thus the choice of walnuts for my analogy. 

Now, moving on…

I was noticing when I was working that I was getting too narrow in my focus, and I was no longer caring for my own body in my effort to help the body under my hands. I redirected my thinking and my movement so I was back in my usual zone of being able to use my body well while still doing effective work. This felt so much better. I realize that I have been moving through life lately with a narrow focus. I have been feeling so much anger. This isn’t all bad, but neither is it all good. I’ve made lots of calls to my representatives. Usually I squirm at the very thought of making a call. Now the numbers are on speed dial. But. I think I can redirect my focus to think good thoughts and have general good use of myself while still taking action.

Last night I felt like I had a rock of anger and terror in my belly and no amount of reasoning would make it budge. So I let myself collapse crying on the kitchen floor (you know I love that floor). This morning I feel much better and clearer than I have in a while. I am also attempting to stay away from the thoughts that created the rock in my belly, but if the feelings are there then I don’t want to ignore them or belittle them for that is the worst of all.

I debated for a while about whether or not to include the first part of this update. Every time I decided I shouldn’t because this should be more kid focused and more upbeat, then I felt even worse because that felt like a lie and the biggest reason I started these updates was to share my actual experience.

I read an essay in which this statement was attributed to F.M. Alexander. “All the damn fools in the world believe they are actually doing what they think they are doing.” I hope I am doing a fraction of what I think I am doing.

As for the girls…

When I picked Sarah up from school on Wednesday I asked her how it was and she said good. I usually don’t ask because I know she will always say good. That is the answer she has learned to say. It doesn’t actually give me information. I then asked her what she did in gym class. She said, “I runned.” This is so beautiful! The imperfection of it tells me that it is her original thought and construction, not just a rehearsed answer that she has learned to say.

Sarah will start vision therapy on Tuesday. It may be that the concussion she had when she was 4 is still having an impact on how she functions and how fatiguing certain things are for her. Her first therapy sessions will be on her way home from school so I hope she won’t be too tired. 

It takes some serious scrubbing to remove craypas from the legs of a child.

In the past we kept a list of Sarah’s rules to live by. I forget them now, but this morning she added a new rule: Don’t get saliva on mom. Right! I often have to give reminders that if they spit on me, lick me, bite me, or otherwise get saliva on me then I will put them down. 

I will close with Amy’s words of wisdom, “When we are mad we forget we love each other. After we get our mad and sad out then we remember that we love each other.”

Thanks for listening.

November 12

This week has to go day by day. You all know how deeply I wanted Hillary to win (I know many of you did too). This update isn’t very much about anything else. When I see my hopeful pre-election picture I want to cry. I’m not ready to take down my yard sign.

Sunday. Monday. Is it Tuesday yet??

Tuesday. Oh my goodness! This is the most amazing, exciting, history-making day. Let me listen to Cyndi Lauper’s “Sisters of Avalon” and feel joyfully empowered. 

Tuesday night. Oh my God. I am going to be sick. Literally sick. I need to calm my adrenaline or I will actually vomit.

Wednesday night. I feel hollow, clenched, sick, and so very sad. My nose is raw from how often and deeply I have cried. My successes for the day include somehow miraculously getting the girls ready and to school on time. Sometimes it is a blessing to have a tight time schedule and a very set routine. I didn’t have to think much, just prodded myself through each next step. There were moments of the day when I even felt ease and joy, especially when I was at work and could just focus on what I know to do in the realm of helping someone else’s body. And then there were moments when it hit me again and I felt like I reawakened to the nightmare. There were many minutes where I couldn’t fathom making dinner. And yet, kids must eat. Thank goodness for my soup order. I had healthy, homemade soup, which seemed extra perfect for my battered heart. I know that there is a possibility that some readers of my writing support Trump. Knowing some people I esteem as friends and family support him has been so inconceivable. At the moment I cling to what I know and love about them and hope that somehow things will not be as bad as so many of us fear. Thank goodness for term limits. Maybe we can take the next few years to push for preference ranked voting and for an increase in polling places and fixing the gerrymandering crap that occurs.

Thursday. Well, I feel better than I did on Wednesday. 

Friday. I want to roar with rage until my soul is raw. For all of those reasonable, smart, loving, thoughtful people who voted for Trump… did you really not understand that some people would use this as a license to do horrible things? REALLY?!?!?!?!?! This is not just that someone in a party other than mine won. At this moment I would gratefully accept Romney or another 4 years of Bush, and that is seriously saying something.

Then there was Leonard Cohen’s passing. I didn’t even know about it when I decided his music was just the thing for me to listen to (after repeat listening to REM’s “Everybody Hurts” so I could sob my heart out.) I love “Hallelujah” and especially this line, "And even though It all went wrong I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah.” So, with that in mind, I am so grateful for the good people in my life. I am grateful to know some people who supported Trump because I can cling to my knowledge of their good, loving selves. Not everyone who voted for him agrees with the parts of him that are so hurtful. There is a lot of good in the world. 

Saturday. Today. My voice is actually raw from yelling. Yelling at my kids. Yelling just to yell. Yelling because our house is full of too much stuff. Being at a party Friday night where everyone had to speak loudly to be heard. My voice is raw. My soul is raw. Raw and battered. I feel like I am on my knees after being punched in the stomach, looking up at almost half of the country and saying, “how could you?” I have conversed now with friends who did vote for him and I know the reasons even if I disagree. None of their reasons are any of his awfulness. But still. His awfulness is out there, was clearly out there, was and is a model, and many horrible things are happening in his name. This is not ok. This is not at all ok. And yet I love my friends and I know they are good. Most of the country is actually good. So how do I reconcile all of this?

On a positive note, in pre-election days I had unfriended someone on Facebook because on our political differences. But I missed her. It didn’t feel right. Also, where is my walking my talk about inclusiveness and listening? If I want to understand those who think differently from me then by all means I want to start with people that I know and love, people that think very much like me about some other things such as the Son-Rise approach for helping our kids. So I refriended her and sent an apology for the unfriending and we have had some conversation. It feels good to have her back. 

And now here are a few non-election moments of wonderfulness...

Amy has been writing that she loves Sarah in as many different ways as she can think of. Amy heart Sarah. A heart S. 5 loves 9. peas love carrots. red loves pink. cat loves bear. (oh my serious goodness! Does it get any sweeter?)

Sarah got evaluated by a vision therapist on Monday. After 75 minutes she was worn out. I offered that she could have a break and listen to dog music (the album has a picture of Pluto) on my phone, which is one of her favorite things in this world, and she said no. She just wanted to go home and go to bed. That is what we did. I like the therapist very much and I do think Sarah needs the therapy. I have a meeting with the doctor on Monday to discuss what she deduced and what the plan is for the future. I feel good to have started this process.

Amy learned how to button and unbutton buttons! She sometimes seemingly takes a long time to learn a skill, but not really. It is just that she has no interest in learning it until she is ready. Once she decides to learn something she gets it right away.

Writer loves readers. Jenny loves friends and family. Chocolate loves whatever your favorite foods are. 39 loves whatever your ages are. 

November 5

On Halloween the girls were super excited all day about going trick-or-treating. I had loads of stuff ready to trade for whatever Sarah brought home. There was a ton from school, most of which she couldn’t have so I swapped it and re-gifted it to trick-or-treaters. Getting ready involved some yelling by the ladies of the house. Any endeavor involving time and kids not listening to me and wrestling with each other when one doesn’t want to wrestle is not the scenario that shows off my best qualities. Still, we made it. We were all dressed and ready by the designated start of trick-or-treating. I stayed outside for a while to hand out treats but then decided it was too cold and I could just be inside and take off my big shoes. At precisely that moment I was informed that Sarah was coming home and was done with trick-or-treating. She was eager to have a treat. I swapped goods and let her have two treats. Then she wanted to go back out! By that time Carl and Amy were far afield, relatively speaking. Sarah, by her own admission, is no good at waiting. There was lots of screaming and crying. I was gruff. When Carl returned he took Sarah out again and Amy stayed home to have some of her treats. Then Amy helped hand out our little bags of Bunny Grahams to the kids who came to the door. Amy was the most earnest hander-outer I have ever seen. My heart just about couldn’t handle the strain of adorableness as she sat on the top step on the porch just waiting, packet of grahams in her hand.  The thing I am most proud of in the whole evening was noticing when I was starting to label myself as the worst mother ever because of how grumpy and gruff I had been with Sarah. The thing is, to follow such moments with beating up on myself doesn’t actually help matters at all. Neither does being grumpy-gruff but let’s keep it to one emotional u-turn at a time. I felt good that I regrouped and gave the girls snuggles and apologized for being on the wrong ball (that is what we say when one has been in a foul mood). They snuggled back and we were all in good shape together. I realized again that I don’t need to be the perfect never-yelling mom. I just need to show them that it is ok for a person to have emotions and that I still love them and the world is still ok. This is good because I don’t expect to become the perfect mom anytime soon so it is a relief that apparently good-enough might actually be good-enough. And, while I have not yet not yelled in certain moments, I do have a different voice in the back of my head occasionally pointing out that when I yell I really don’t at all get what I want and it is not serving my purpose. (but are you sure? maybe if I just try it one more time…)

About a week ago I backed off my headache medicine another notch. By now my body is at the new level. I am having some stronger whispers, which is good or bad depending on how you look at it. Through the lens of fear, then ACK!!!! Through the lens of love and hope, then this is good information about what I am doing with my body. During my Jenny-Rise time on Tuesday I felt like I began the time all tight everywhere and by the end I could breathe again. I also was aware that my right shoulder blade on the outside edge is where I have some control battles with myself. While J held his hands there I could witness my muscles having a conversation about what to control and what to let go and when. It is so exciting and humbling to continually discover how much my thoughts are expressed through my muscles. After my session on Thursday the whispers have been very wispy and almost not there. Until this morning when I was thinking about all of the various food things I have committed to and trying think about how to be organized and what to actually make. Voila. WHISPER of a headache to a notable degree. This is so wonderful to notice the immediate correlation between my thinking, planning, and being organized and my headaches. I think I can still be organized, but I do need to be careful about when my thinking is actually productive and when it might be harmful.

There was another moment of learning. After Thursday’s Jenny-Rise session I felt so deeply good, calm, and healthy that I absolutely was not tempted by the small pile of Halloween candy for the grown-ups. Then something happened Friday afternoon where I was hungry at the same moment I felt a tiny bit grumpy so I reached for one piece. I know already that crap chocolate makes me sneeze. This time the correlation of my feeling worse physically and emotionally was so obvious I couldn’t possibly ignore it. I also yelled at my kids more loudly afterwards than I had in the previous 24 hours. Hmm. Embarrassing to notice and admit but freeing for my future self. No more crap chocolate. Because, you see, if I eat the stuff that I make then I don’t feel sick and I’m not extra grumpy. Problem solved.

Thursday night I witnessed the beautiful parenting art that is Carl. I love these small moments so hugely. He was encouraging the girls to get ready for bed and they were being slightly recalcitrant. He started singing the Boyton “pajama time” song but with a few different words. This evolved to everyone adding different things that were wearing pajamas. It was word association at its finest. I loved getting a window into how the girls think. I love that in this house when someone says “pajamas on a forehead” it is followed by the actual chin press and “pajamas on a chin press.” I love how Carl can take moments where something needs to happen and use play to achieve the desired goal. He does it so calmly, easily, and truly.

Sarah loves pretending to be a t-rex attacking Carl. Amy often joins in too. This morning he said the t-rex had cold claws. Then Sarah started pretending to be a sticky eyeball that she got for Halloween. She pretended to stick to Carl. There was much snuggling and laughter by all. And then I had two kids clambering on me and realized that while part of me loved it, there was all sorts of bracing and tension going on in my body to help protect myself from unintended injury. It is so good to notice because then I can let it go more quickly. 

My SR time had lots more kisses and I love you’s and snuggles. I love that this is our new thing. I felt like we just really had an easy time being together overall, including when we were both snapping and unsnapping a pair of tear-away pants that have snaps for the entire length of the legs. It had been a while since I joined her in an ism. It is such a nice experience.

During Sc’s SR time, Sarah went to read the words on her Klean Kantine bottle. What she came up with was “Clinton Kaine.” I like the way her brain works! (Remember to vote on Tuesday if you have not already!)

Sarah has been reading out loud from Owl Moon, by Jane Yolen, and We Had a Plan, written by Carl Wellington and illustrated by Jenny Briggs, much more than I have heard her doing in the past. She knows both books by heart, but she was still following along with the printed words or at least using what she saw to cue her memory.

Sarah did beautifully on her spelling test at school! She got all of the words right! These are simple 2 and 3 letter words. Still. Still. How incredible to be at this moment now.

I have started the wheels in motion (ahem) to get Sarah on a bus to and from school. ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This feels scary. Exciting too. This will mean she probably has to be ready 15 min earlier in the morning, so that part is no picnic, but it means that Amy and I don’t have to be as hurried. It also means that in theory I could see more clients or teach an afternoon class. So far I have only been able to teach the afternoon classes where it is ok if I show up over an hour late. To teach would still mean getting a sitter but that is much easier than arranging to have someone go get Sarah from school. This means she won’t get her preferred tunes to and from school or the snack she eats on the way home, but I’m assuming she can survive that. I feel like we have graduated to the next level. 

When something is exquisite I want to revel in it and enjoy it as much and as often as possible. Why not? Life is limited. Let's fill up. This means two Jenny-rise sessions per week when scheduling allows. This means snuggling with Carl and laughing together while eating delicious food, whether gourmet or pizza or the best coconut cake from the co-op. This means getting my favorite eclair. This means reading for fun and listening to music of my choice as often as I am on my own (I give the kids preference in general when they are around). This means going to a bakery with Amy when she has an early dismissal. This means taking the time to walk, to breathe, to do constructive rest or stretching, to sit in my fairy glen, to revel in being alive. I want to fill up my soul with the exquisiteness of the people in my life. My life is overwhelmingly abundantly full of amazing people. How did I ever get so blessed?

I hope you all may find some exquisiteness in which to revel.