Category Archives: health

Report is in.

1 Reply

Final diagnosis of the original biopsy:

Malignant melanoma, superficial spreading type, invasive to level II and a measured thickness of 0.5mm arising in association with a compound nevus, margins free but close.

Final comment:

This lesion is indeed a fully evolved malignant melanoma, superficial spreading type, invasive multifocally to 0.5mm. The radical growth phase is composed of prominent melanoma cells both spindle and epithelioid. They are present in very large nests and show focal pagetold spread. There is evidence of a pre-existing nevus at the site. There is no evidence of regression, ulceration or mitoses. Re-excision is recommended with a 1.0cm margin. SOX-10 and HMB45 support the above interpretation.

Positive and negative controls for all immunohistochemical stains and/or special stains prepared by the outside laboratory were reviewed, and they are considered appropriate.

From the NHS website:

Around 7 out of 10 (70%) of all melanomas in the UK are superficial spreading melanomas.

They’re more common in people with pale skin and freckles, and much less common in darker skinned people.

They initially tend to grow outwards rather than downwards, so do not pose a problem.

But if they grow downwards into the deeper layers of skin, they can spread to other parts of the body.

From Melanoma International:

Here is an explanation of terms that may appear in your pathology report:

  1. Type: description of the particular variety of melanoma you have—superficial spreading melanoma, lentigo maligna melanoma, nodular melanoma, and so on. The superficial spreading type is the most common.
  2. Growth phase: designation that shows whether the melanoma has reached the step where it can grow as a lump below the epidermis. In the radial growth phase, as we have seen, it is unlikely that the cancer has begun to metastasize. With the vertical growth phase, there is at least some chance that the disease has spread elsewhere in the body.
  3. Mitotic count or mitosis: measure of how many melanoma cells are dividing below the epidermis. Only in the vertical growth phase do cells divide in the dermis. The higher the mitotic count, the more likely the tumor is to have spread.
  4. Tumor-infiltrating lymphocytes: immune system cells (lymphocytes) whose presence in the vertical growth phase are a positive sign. Presumably, lymphocytes show that the immune system has recognized the tumor and is attacking it.
  5. Greatest thickness: the Breslow thickness. A measurement of a millimeter or less is considered thin—and means a favorable prognosis.
  6. Site: location of the melanoma. Patients with a vertical growth phase melanoma located on an extremity have a relatively more favorable prognosis than those on the trunk or head and neck (a subtlety is that a rare subtype of melanoma that, unless the lesion appears on the palms, on the soles of the feet, or under the nails acts like trunk lesions).
  7. Sex: gender of the melanoma patient. For unexplained reasons, women have a better prognosis than men.
  8. Regression: An attribute that may be either absent or present in the radial growth phase (which is adjacent to the vertical growth phase). Regression is evidence of destruction (probably by immune factors) of some of the melanoma cells in the radial growth phase. Immunologically mediated regression of this sort is a weakly negative factor.
  9. Level of Invasion: the Clark level. Mine was a level IV tumor—that is, the melanoma had penetrated to just above the fatty layer of the skin.
  10. Precursor Lesion: Evidence of a pre-existing ordinary, dysplastic, or congenital mole from which the melanoma might have developed. My melanoma came from a dysplastic nevus. Although dysplastic nevi are the most common precursors, common moles and congenital moles may also be culprits. For many melanomas no evidence of a precursor shows up.

So what I’m getting is that I definitely need to have a larger chunk of skin removed, but it probably didn’t get very deep or spread to other areas.

Thank you, Noah for telling me I had to check this out.

Cancer. Again.

Leave a reply

I can’t sleep. Future will eat me.

It’s not a very aggressive form of cancer. Malignant melanoma. But I’m basically freaking out. I had cancer before, when I was 19. Then it was from HPV and on my cervix. It was burned off. This time it will be carved out with a knife and I get to pray I don’t have to undergo radiation.

I’m scared and sad. I don’t want more pain.

I’ve told myself for many years that if I get cancer… I get to just let go and stop trying. I get to die. It’s my right.

But I look at my little 20 month old baby and my 9 year old and my 11 year old… they are not ready for me to go. If it’s worse than expected… I have to fight. I have to fight with everything I am. And I’m told I am a whole lot of extra.

I promise that if I am fighting cancer I will hire house cleaners. Stop bugging me.

Tonight I miss my mother so much I feel like I could collapse under it. I’m crying on and off.

My baby is downstairs crying too. She wants me. I am being selfish. I need to look into my brain and at my feelings right now.

If I have to have radiation, we must wean. That would be hard on so many levels. She loves nursing so much. But she’d prefer to have me whole and alive than to nurse for a few extra months. I know.

It is hard knowing that I can’t give up because I have to keep supporting my kids. I mean, Noah would miss me and that would be terrible. I went to the doctor in the first place because Noah asked me to. Noah told me that I should keep hanging on because after all… he bought me my dream house… I haven’t even put art in it…

I CAN’T DIE WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT THE FUCK LUCREZIA IS DOING AND AT THIS RATE THE GOD DAMN FOGLIOS ARE GOING TO TAKE ANOTHER 20 YEARS TO WRAP UP THIS STORY LINE. (Girl Genius comic book reference.)

But Noah. I have to stay for Noah. He’s even treating his eczema so it can be more fun to rub on him. That’s a lot of effort on his part.

He is trying so hard to be pretty for me. I like the way his hair is growing out. I like how he is trimming his beard. He is working hard on exercise so he can be healthy and strong.

I’m just… really scared of more pain. I feel like I am a coward, a whiner, a pathetic person who just needs to suck it up. Everyone suffers, Buttercup.

Just… fuuuck. I could have used a break for a few years form bad things.

 

I swear I am trying.

Leave a reply

But sleep deprivation is a bitch to catch up on. I went back through my activity tracker (I know it is not perfectly accurate for stuff like sleep) but between travel and anxiety and overworking I am down about 8 full nights of sleep over the past month. This is why I am currently struggling with paranoia, negative thoughts about myself, irritability, and frustration. I also hurt really badly.

But I am trying to reverse the flow. The past three nights I’ve gotten nine hours of sleep. Yesterday while walking home from the community center I just about fell down from exhaustion and dizziness. Trying to catch up is showing me just how deep the reservoir of sleep deprivation goes. I need to try to spend all of this school holiday sleeping as much as I possibly can; my health requires it.

A full night of sleep for me is ~7.5 hours. I’m down over 64 hours of sleep over the past month. That’s a lot.

This move is the hardest of my life and I have moved waaaaaay more than average. Folks in the military are usually dumbfounded by how much I have moved because they feel a lack of stability in their lives and I’ve moved many multiples of times more than them. Not so much recently, but over the long run. This is my first international move and I can’t understand people who do this repeatedly. This is so hard.

We moved into a house that was more than twice the size of our old house with no furniture coming with us. We have had to acquire everything from scratch and mostly build it because we can’t really afford to buy nice stuff, we are buying flat pack. Which means I have spent multiple full days just on building furniture. Noah has helped with this way more than he usually does with building furniture and for this I am deeply grateful. Noah has spent at least six, maybe up to eight solid days building furniture if you add up all the hours. I’ve done at least as much maybe more. It’s all getting fuzzy.

We finally have consistent, good wifi thanks to Noah’s continual efforts at handling the bureaucratic mess. It is still a mess with regards to electricity. All of the advice “Just do A, B, C” has failed entirely. I think Noah is handling the stress of people lying and being deceitful far better than I could. (The main electricity company keeps saying they have done what they need to do for us to move on with the process. When the other company we want to work with checks… nope hasn’t happened. It takes eight weeks before we are allowed to complain. We seriously suspect the first company is going to drag their feet for seven weeks and five days.)  Noah has been on the phone and filling out paperwork just about daily trying to handle the electricity/internet/bank/credit card situation. Now that we have internet and we found out we literally can’t get a credit card until we’ve been here six months and we have a (JOINT) checking account and three savings accounts (grown ups + kids who are redepositing their stuff from the states) we can chill on figuring out financial stuff for a few months.

Oh, also we had an appointment with a couple of truly lovely accountants and that’s going to be a whole messy process that will take many hours of labor over many weeks. The UK tax year doesn’t run their cycle from January-December, they run April-March so we will be trying to sort out tax stuff for like six months straight. Hopefully after the first year it will get a little more clear? At least our California accountant used to work at the IRS handling international taxes?

Trying to acquire stuff for the house has been endless frustration. Between not having a car, not having reliable internet, and our US credit cards getting constantly denied for fraud… everything is taking two, three, four, five times as long to get done and the hand strain is absolutely unbelievable.

And I keep hearing my fucking mother’s voice in my head saying that you don’t go out and socialize until your house is company ready. Thus long working days and not sleeping.

Last night I made a list on the whiteboard of the chores the kids hadn’t gotten to this week. I told them they need to finish by bed time. They got it done. I supervised and didn’t help. I’m trying to reduce my arm strain.

They did a great job and they are currently playing with Her Sweetness so Noah and I can each have some quiet down time in our separate rooms.

We have a house phone number and an actual physical phone will be delivered in a few days. I have a sim card in the house for a UK phone number for my mobile and I will be setting it up once I can put the UK house phone number down on forms. I will be going through and replacing my US phone number on all of my accounts. I will be shutting down my US phone number in December after 19 years of service.

I am having so many feelings about that.

The plan with the accountants is to start moving our money out of the US. I don’t feel super ethical investing in a country that moved its slavery from the cotton fields to the prison industrial complex and is currently running concentration camps. Where freedom means the freedom to get shot at school. Where freedom means that thousands of people can be homeless so the uberwealthy can hoard a little more. Where freedom means ruining your entire future if you get sick. Where freedom means eternal debt if you want an education.

I know getting out isn’t an option for everyone. I know it is cowardly to run instead of fighting to change the system. I know.

My children are already walking to school and home from school alone sometimes. It’s so safe here. I spoke to a mom who is terrified of her kids being alone and that’s why she pays for them to have cell phones from really young so they have to text her all the time to prove where they are and she tracks them on her phone.

We will have a house phone. I’m giving up full service internet on my phone and downgrading to a pay as you go plan that I don’t want to use much. I will be deleting most apps so I’m not tempted to be idle on my phone out in the world.

My kids will be fine here. I am not worried about their safety. We have an agreement: you ask before you take off and you are given a time to be home. You have a watch (without the ability to receive phone calls on) and if you are late, for every minute you are late you owe me a push up.

That’s as much enforcement as I want. That’s as much control as I want. They are big kids. They are responsible. I trust them. The neighbors aren’t going to call the police if they are out walking to the park. I have anxiety about stuff. I am overly controlling in some ways, but I’m trying hard to back off. They will be ok. And frankly the push ups won’t hurt them.

EC forgot her school computer at home one day this week. Noah asked if we should bring it to her at school. Nope. She can accept the consequences for her behavior like a big girl.

It will be good for her.

I went to a couple of activities with Her Sweetness this week aimed at her peer group; these are the kids she will know in school. These are the kids in our neighborhood. It’s good to start getting to know them. She will make friends over time and I will get to know the mothers.

This move is the hardest of my life. Let me write down just how painful this is so that hopefully I remember and never want to do this again. Some day as an empty nester I might want to move to the downstairs apartment with Noah and rent out the big house, but that’s different.

Solstice is going to be interesting. EC has a bunch of needs still. MC has a bunch of wants. YC (I should shift to this at some point soon here because goodness Youngest Child is more fair than just always referring to her as the sweet one–not to mention that she is sassier by the day) has few needs and can’t speak any wants. I am going to start wrapping presents soon just because we don’t have many good stash spots in the house where unwrapped presents won’t be seen.

Oh, and to put the cherry on top of the moving process, we are all learning how to ride bikes as our mode of transportation. This has resulted in at least one, often three or more major crashes per person. We are all sore and wincing and moving slowly. My knee still hasn’t healed from my crash and every time I get up or down to help YC with something I hiss because it forking hurts.

At least MCs lip has healed and they no longer look like an abused child.

It’s a process…

Hardest fucking move of my life. But the house is basically company ready. I want another couch for the down stairs apartment before guests come. I want a real kitchen table for the main dining room with actual chairs we don’t fall off of on a regular basis. EC still needs a bed frame. Then we are done acquiring stuff.

Mostly because I found a tutorial on Pinterest for making bookshelves out of uniform moving boxes and that’s what I’m doing with the books that arrive. I’m not buying bookshelves any time soon. I want artistic fancy-pants book shelves and I don’t want to pay for them now. So I won’t really get all of the boxes out of the house by the end of November, but the stuff in boxes will be out and in use and the boxes will be semi-permanent (until they give out) furniture.

I am struggling with the fact that I need to give myself approval for how hard this move has been because I won’t get it from anyone else. No one but Noah can see what I’m doing and I’m an asshole about not accepting his approval as much as I should. He will give me approval whether it takes me a month or five years. He isn’t judging me based on what I care about. His priorities are different. (He wishes I would slow the fuck down and rest more.)

I have a ridiculous drive to get this done. This is important to me. I need to see this progress so I can sit in the mostly finished house and dream about the art I want to add. I can’t start painting until after my next birthday, but I can make sketches. I can figure out what kind of mosaic backsplash I’d like to make for the kitchen wall where we keep splattering the shit out of it with food. (Did the previous owners cook?! How in the fuck did they keep the wall so white?!) What would I like to do in the upstairs bathtub bathroom?

Art will come, but not until all of the other pieces are in place and I can dream around them.

We still have a few entirely empty cupboards in the laundry room and main kitchen and the downstairs kitchen is basically empty. But we have the stuff we need finally. Those bits will fill in over time as we figure out what other things we want or need.

Realistically it is going to take me many years to finish this house. But I feel moved in now. The art will come. The guest kitchen will come. It’s ok that it isn’t all instant.

I needed to feel settled. Those bits are extra. And I have my name on a bank account so that I can build my own credit. That’s a big deal. Being dependent is hard enough without also being vulnerable.

And proper locks are on the way for every door in the house.

Sick babies are so much work.

2 Replies

Welcome to Scotland! Here is your first illness. It’s predictable. But I would sure like a full night of sleep one of these nights. Between general discomfort, getting kicked in the head, nightmares (mine and other peoples’), waking up to change underwear because I can feel the OH MY GOD GUSH OF BLOOD, and a baby with a fever who wakes up crying while needing to nurse…

I am so tired. I could really use a solid week to just sleep through life. But I have three little kids so suck it up buttercup.

The head teacher (basically the principal for the USians in the audience) for the school we are going to will be leaving at the end of this term and then the school starts the search for a new head teacher so the school suggested we probably should get started now instead of waiting and trying to enter amid the chaos. Fun! We went and toured the school yesterday. I will bring back the filled in paperwork on Monday and the kids will start on Tuesday.

I have to say: the school sounds super fun. There are a ton of community-building programs that to my ear sound like “We know that not all of our kids have all of the support that might be ideal at home so we just provide this to make sure everyone has what they need.” Awesome. I’m happy to be part of it and I will be eager to see how we can donate/contribute/volunteer to help these programs go well for everyone.

We were sent home with three free school shirts so we don’t have to go buy them. That was quite nice.

We met the teachers the kids will be with (well, 2/3 of them because Middle Child’s class has two part time teachers) and briefly waved at the upcoming classmates. I’m excited.

I’d be more excited if I could sleep.

I am still elated to be here but I’m really really weary.

The house continues to come along. I now have 30 baby locks installed. I should have bought 40. We have agreements in place about what will happen if you lock your sibling into a room with a baby lock. (Lines. Lots of lines.) I was pretty harsh with the kids this morning about my feelings about how they have been only doing chores under great pressure lately; it makes my life suck tremendously and then I have no desire to spend fun play time with you. Is that what you want? No? Then don’t make me ask you ten times to do your chores.

The kids have fewer chores right now than they have had in years so I’m feeling pretty cranky about how hard I have to work to get them to do anything. This is not working for me.

I have a bank account. I learned things about Scottish banking and how it differs from the US. We had a really fun chat with the lady at the bank about credit and investments and politics and technology. She says she wants to get in touch with us outside of work and have coffee because she is a recent immigrant to this city too. I think she is also looking for friends. She is from Poland and she had a really refreshing point of view about the world. I’d love to hang out with her again.

I have been pleasantly surprised by how many immigrants I have run into already. This is a vibrant city full of imports. That’s fun.

I am spending so much time talking about the nitty gritty of Silicon Valley company politics. This is my tired face. Lots of folks want to talk to me about Facebook and Google and why social media is complicated. I understand now why my brother told me 20 years ago that I was a very advanced computer user then. I know so much more now. I have these gut level panic reactions to a lot of computer security conversations.

That was a good thing I got from Sarah. I have to acknowledge how much that woman taught me about how to keep myself safe. Life is so complicated.

I am tired. I want to hang out with Jenny but I am exhausted, snippy, bitchy, and this baby won’t get off my boob. (Plus I am super against sharing illness if it can be avoided.) This is one of those times when parenting is not convenient.

Mattresses will arrive in 4 and 6 days. (Two separate shipments.) My super comfy wonderful chair for my bedroom will arrive then too. This chair is awesome for reading and I intend to use it for that as much as possible. (If I miss deleting random periods I apologize; I don’t know why they are happening.)

Internet is still flaky and inconsistent. No video chats yet. We aren’t on proper wifi. Thank goodness for the Skyroam.

I am strongly considering a dog. This is a massive change for me. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy you might. ask. A few reasons: I could seriously use an exercise buddy, sexual assault is just about the only crime on the rise in this country and I do not feel secure that if I kicked someone like I did my old neighbor things would go well for me, also Her Sweetness tries to follow every dog we see home. She is utterly enchanted with dogs. Additionally: a dog can’t be left for travel. I’d have to stay home! My kids are separating from me in a way they have not done so in the past and I have to stop micromanaging them; it is considered good dog ownership to control a dog. Cats won’t put up with that shit. I literally would have to go outside every day, which would be good for both physical and mental health.

Lots of reasons. I’m still in the considering stage. Not this month. Not next month. Maybe not this year. But it’s on my mind a lot. Maybe after Her Sweetness potty trains? I don’t know. Feelings.

For now I am curled up on the toddler bed with my sick baby. Bless the strong slats.

Housekeeping and illness

1 Reply

I am sick. I am producing buckets of green snot and I get dizzy whenever I walk down into the heat. That means the remaining 57 hours of being in Bangkok are not going to be much more festive than the last few days. That’s a huge bummer because Thailand was the only Asian country I was dying to see. My body is just not that fun.

To keep myself busy in the apartment I have gone back and changed the password on all of the posts that had a password. I am going to slowly go through everything “private” and put it behind a password. Only 3600 posts to go… In the future I will probably put a variety of topics behind a password because my children deserve more privacy than I have shown over the last few years. As we are establishing ourselves in a new country it is better for their classmates to not be able to find my more extreme topics. Not to mention the parents….

That means that if you want to read all the juicy stuff you need to out yourself. No more silent stalkers.

Every single one of those posts requires a minimum of 5 clicks so it may take me a few days to get all the archives updated. It’s hard on my arms. Minimum of 18,000 clicks, y’all. Hundreds of my early blog entries were one or two sentences long. That many stupid clicks to update that shit. LJ was such a mess. I have been on and off Twitter since September 2008. Staying off seems smart for my mental health.

I really don’t have much to report about Bangkok to my sadness. We are mostly eating from stuff we can get from 7-11.

I haven’t reread everything I have updated but I am skimming a lot. So many years of begging for attention, for love, for validation. I am really glad that I have stopped most of that. I am a lot more stable emotionally. I am much more appropriate in my behavior. I am a lot closer to who I want to be.

I am only going to share me with people who deserve me going forward. I feel like moving to Scotland is time for a rebirth. I have a family who adores me, friends who love me and respect me and put effort into maintaining their end of relationships, and enough projects to last the rest of my life.

I’m excited.

Well this sucks; ok not everything sucks

2 Replies

We were just about over jet lag. Then illness strikes. Her Sweetness has a fever and she is super cranky; I assume she is in pain too. Eldest Child is having intestinal problems. I have full body pain (as someone with chronic pain this is enough pain to make me want to sit very still in a chair and cry–I am medicating for pain with tylenol and ibuprofen alternated), a low grade fever, and I am producing a river of snot with the associated coughing, sneezing, and sore throat. If you have followed me for long you know it has to get BAD before I medicate with these drugs because I am so afraid of my tolerance level going up.

I don’t think we will see much of Bangkok and I am very disappointed.

The food has tasted great. The garbage is omnipresent and overwhelming. The traffic patterns are reminding me of Kuala Lumpur only they are very different? It’s closer to KL than Japanese traffic patterns. The gridlock is massive. I can understand why the advice around driving here is don’t.

We are right next to RCA (Royal City Avenue) which is the designated clubbing/entertainment/tourist area. It’s a short walk down a relatively safe stretch of sidewalk. Relatively safe because the motorcycle taxi service has a stand in front of our building so they have to go back and forth on that stretch of sidewalk. If you pay attention and get out of their way it’s ok. And all the motorcycle drivers love Her Sweetness. They want to cuddle and hang out with her.

Her Sweetness is my most reserved child. I used to think Middle Child was incredibly reserved because I compared them to Eldest Child. Holy sauce buckets was I underestimating the amount of reserve a child of my blood can display. When people try to touch HS she cries. She wants her people and that’s it.

I am going to have to stagger downstairs and do laundry today because I am about out of hankies. Dude. I travel with more than a dozen hankies. Hankies are life. (We also have a full laundry basket. But the hankies will be the motivation.)

I was a serious bitch yesterday and I feel kind of embarrassed. I am sick and the kids were pushing me for attention and to do work for them. I blew up about how unfair it is that when they are sick I let them lie still and do nothing until they feel like doing things and I am not allowed any rest. I sort of feel like I “should” have found a nicer way to express this. But I tried a variety of “I’m not feeling well” and “I can’t do that” before I started getting harsh. There is this complicated balancing act where I try to be as nice as I can be to them until they just refuse to recognize that I have boundaries too and then I’m really not so nice. Because fuck that. I get to have rest when I am fucking sick and you can go in your room and play and stop bothering me. No I don’t have to pay attention to you today. You can bloody well cope with me taking care of myself today.

It’s weird. I feel guilty and proud of myself? I need to set these boundaries. I set them as softly as I could. I escalated ,when they completely refused to allow me boundaries, to being more forceful in my language. I did use the word fuck a lot. “I am fucking sick and I need to fucking rest. You don’t fucking need me to play with you. You can fucking play by yourself.” That was after a couple of hours of using soft language and having MC continue to head butt me and be rude and demanding and aggressive about wanting to play.

MC has asked me to use the word fuck less and I’ve been doing pretty well so this flood of fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck was definitely a sign of degrading ability to communicate. But I feel like my head is in a vice and if you don’t leave me alone and stop talking to me I am going to literally melt down and start screaming which would really suck in this tiny apartment. I have limits. I don’t talk to you like this even once a year. But I am sick and I need to be left alone to take care of me.

My kids genuinely think I am a river of love and support and work and they can’t understand when I can’t do that. It’s a weird dynamic. I feel both good and bad about it. I am not sure I am presenting them with a healthy, balanced view of what parents should be like. My mother under-responded and neglected me. So I half kill myself doing the martyr schtick so they never know a minute of boredom or want. I am hurting myself so they never have to be bored. That’s not healthy either.

I really can’t wait to have my own bedroom and for them to go to school. We need to start separating. I feel like a mother bird who is exerting more and more pressure to get the baby birds to get the fork out of the nest. I need some space, kiddos. I love you. I need some space for me too. I matter too. I am not the most important person in our family but I am not the least important person either. We need balance. If we sacrifice my health on the altar of “Happy Family” then this family is going to fall apart soon. I have to be healthy enough to carry my side of things.

I suspect this is related to just how hard I pushed my body over the past few months culminating in the last week. I have done a lot of work. We leave Bangkok on the 9th and we arrive on the 10th because it is another 30 hour travel day with getting to and from airports. Today is the 5th. So close yet so far.

The former owner of the house and Jenny’s Super Spiffy Husband (JSSH) both sent us long explanations of how to set up utilities and services. We are so incredibly lucky that we are following Jenny. She has helped in ways big and small that blow my mind. I feel like we are sliding into Scotland on greased rails. This could have been a nightmare. Instead it is a series of steps. Yes, we feel tension and stress as we go through the steps because lots of things are out of our control… but things are actually going as fast as they possibly could. We made the decision to move to Scotland, got absolutely everything done, and now we are returning in less than three months. That is miraculous in terms of government bureaucracy. Greased. Forkin. Rails.

And once we arrive… we have no deadlines to hurry up and get anything done. There are no foreseeable sprints in my future. We don’t need to hurry up and get anything done. We need to get things done as quickly as we get them done. I mean, utilities getting set up might be the most “Uhhh do that now” step. But furniture and cookware and all that stuff can trickle in. We will probably go shopping on the 11th to get some things, but not a lot. Realistically we will go to the store every day for a while and we will get what we get. Sometime in the first week we will probably hire a van and clean out the charity shop of anything we can use and do a massive grocery shop but it’s not a big rush. If it happens on our second day or our fourth day or the seventh day… whatever. We are right between three stores that are all dandy for supplying us with food we can eat without stress. I’m just not worried. It’s a lovely feeling. I will slowly acquire the things we need to keep house. Drips and drabs. It will be easier to do most of this shopping after the shipment of our belongings arrive so I have the big double stroller.

I got a double bike trailer that can be used as a stroller so that I can pull the baby AND groceries. This is my compromise on not having a car. I am already aware of how awesome Tesco’s delivery service is (THANK YOU JSSH!) but I really like going to the store. And I want to experiment between Tesco and Aldi and Asda. I will get a little notebook for comparing prices. We are going to be trying to be that tight with our budget.

I’m not sure if I told y’all this. Noah’s current obscene California salary is going to last till January. Then he’s going to work on books, teaching, and maybe a wee bit of contracting on the side. We have enough money in petty cash for 2-3 years of run time if we are very conservative and we hope we can figure out him working for himself. This is part of why we decided Taipei is not wise at the moment. If we are trying to live on £40,000/year all of a sudden spending $6000 on a trip to Taipei seems… uhhh not in the budget.

I have lived on much less. While snowballing our debt we lived on a similar amount of money at the beginning of our marriage. We will see!

On the money front: I was watching a session of Scottish Parliament yesterday and there was a lot of hand wringing over how they can’t get enough people to work with mental health care for children. The waiting lists are long and they are incredibly stressed out about it. Do you know what I have a unique background on? Helping kids with mental health problems. Sure, I’ll have to hit up the local university for some specific training and degree hoop jumping but that doesn’t scare me. Maybe when Her Sweetness starts nursery in a year and a half we will have four people in school in the house. That would be kind of cool.

I would like to have a job. I would like to have a job specifically because I dream of a conservatory added to the house and if I don’t figure out how to earn the money for it myself Noah will feel like he needs to get a remote job from California for ridiculous money and then he will work 60 hours a week and I will be very sad.

I don’t need to earn the money in the first couple of years. In my head I wouldn’t be ready to start that kind of project for at least 3-5 years. That gives me time to go to school and get started in the field. I will be 100% hiring out the work and the former owner gave me the name of the person who could probably build it for me because he did all the other remodeling in the house.

This is not abandoning the idea of IDB (Incest Database) but it is helping to keep me busy until then and helps me gain qualifications that will help with the research and it helps pay for retirement stuff so Noah doesn’t have to supply 100% of our retirement safety on his own. I still think I couldn’t really get going on IDB for almost 20 years. Not the way I want to. 20 years is a long time and I could do a lot of valuable work between now and then.

I want to be part of the community. This would be a really great way for me to meet people and find a place for myself.

I don’t have a plan yet. I am not rushing. I am waiting to see how things shake out. I am coming up with ideas, potentials, hopes, and dreams.

And nothing is in a big rush. No sprints. Settle in slowly. Exercise. Establish house. Help the kids adjust to school. Wait for HS to be old enough for nursery. Enjoy the next year and a half of extra alone time with my precious last baby. I feel lucky and blessed.

I won’t be doing much today. Noah has a speakers dinner tonight. We have instant noodles in the apartment that will probably be most of our food while he is doing his conference. I should go down to the 7-11 (holy shit these things are ubiquitous internationally) and get some yogurt and juice and maybe other snacky foods. Maybe I’ll do that run while I’m dealing with laundry.

I feel so bad. I did more yesterday than I probably should have. Today I can’t. As I plan to go to the laundromat and do grocery shopping. I am such a twit.

These things have to get done. It’s not optional. Being the mom is not always fun. But it is always worth it. I did not have children because I wanted convenience. I am so very loved. It’s worth it.

Even if sometimes I have to say fuck fuck fuck fuck to be allowed to rest.

I think it is kind of useful that EC is reading these Warriors books because the mama cats take no shit and that is causing her to change how she views me. It’s hilarious.

I have been dizzy on and off for days. My body is so unhappy. Her Sweetness is waking up every two hours to nurse and I don’t feel like it is fair to complain given how sick she is.

Miss Jenny picked up our keys. The solicitor has been paid off. We have a home to go back to. A home that pretty closely matches drawings I’ve been making about my dream home for years. I am so lucky.

We are going to be highlanders! We start this next phase of our lives on the day I turn 38. Seems like a good time for a rebirth.

And the book is gone.

Leave a reply

I seem to have lost the poop book. Given that I’m on day 12 of solid poop and I had gluten last night… I may be just stopping. I got up to day 66 or 67.

I think that having to lawyer up just made it so that the elimination diet is too many spoons. It seems to be over for a while and I don’t have any physical or emotional ability to pursue it right now. Just… no. I am going to be completely flipping out and all of a sudden my anxiety will be spiked so high I won’t have “true” responses anyway.

Near as I can tell the main thing I did to make my body happy was fast. Next time I have multiple days of diarrhea that may play in to how I handle it. I’m also going to play fast and loose (ha-ha-ha) with anti-diarrheals now that I’ve read a bunch of books on IBS. From what I read you can pretty much live on the stuff and it isn’t a big deal.

Illness and packing and life oh my.

Leave a reply

This is a sick house. Which means so much laundry I am losing my marbles. The tiny washing machine can wash a twin sheet + a twin comforter cover or a twin sheet + 2 towels. Or about a day of everyone’s clothing at a time. This means I am doing 2-3 loads every day right now. Each load takes about 5 hours. But when folks are having to wash bedding nearly every day + going through a week of bottoms in a day… it adds up fast.

I am trying to feel gratitude that my kids got sick like this with over a week to go before we left. Now we are at 6 days to go until we fly and I am biting my nails with worry. Oh, and I’m on day 28 of my cycle. Cheers. Just waiting until my malaise turns into bleeding. Just my luck that is when I will get my turn to start vomiting with terrible diarrhea at the same time. Two thumbs up, would bitch about again.

My kids are trying to maintain a positive attitude, but feeling like this sucks. We haven’t had a proper fall-like-dominoes illness in a very long time so I guess we were due. I think one way or another we are traveling with breathing masks on so we don’t infect other people. Ugh. ALL THE HAND SANITIZER (in addition to washing our hands hourly). I am hoping Her Sweetness misses the worst of it. But I ordered carpet cleaner from Tesco because she had a diaper leak because she’s not in a perfect place right now in terms of her functions. I think this is her first poop diaper leak… maybe ever? My older kids had them but she’s been so normal and regulated it just hasn’t been an issue. Illness sucks.

I caught up on ancient emails from my inbox. I’m down to 10 emails and the oldest one is from May. Huzzah! I feel embarrassed about how far behind I get, but that’s life.

I am so glad I mostly packed stuff up already. I feel like a wound down clock. I’m still ticking but its coming slower and slower. Being sick sucks. I don’t have a fever, but I’m weary and depleted. At this moment our household stuff bag is around 40 lbs (a little bit more will go in here, like the laundry basket) and I think it will absolutely max out at 45 lbs. Maybe even more like 42 lbs. My personal checked bag is 33 lbs and I only have a little left, I think it will be around 35/36 lbs. Noah’s bag is sitting at 33ish lbs too. Eldest Child’s bag is about 25 lbs. Middle Child’s first carry on bag is under 20 lbs. Her Sweetness’ carry on suitcase is under 20 lbs. Noah’s backpack is greatly reduced in weight/objects but I haven’t checked it yet. I suspect it is going to be in the 15 lb range. My back pack is still going to be annoyingly close to 20 lbs (I have all the kid electronics). Middle Child’s rolling backpack is practically empty, it weighs under 5 lbs. Eldest Child is just carrying a purse onto the plane. I am shoving my purse in Middle Child’s backpack for the sake of not carrying anything more than necessary in my hands. And we have a stuffed diaper bag.

THAT’S SO MUCH LESS STUFF. Thank you for the loan of your garage, Jenny. This will be so much easier. Also: we will have room to get some stuff in the States where prices are lower. Yayyyyy. Such as: the thigh seam in my long johns gave up on me last week. I have been wearing them for like three years almost constantly. We picked up some Keen walking/waterproof sandals through the REI sale because walking in Bangkok in monsoon season is going to be festive. (My leather sandals hurt like a motherfucker in the wet.) I should probably leave them here to wear on the handful of days when they will work out. Ok, maybe I’m going to find another backpack worth of stuff to leave. I am trying as hard as I can go lighten the load. Every ounce counts, yo. 3.5 months of maxing out the weight limits has gotten stressful. Now I will KNOW that I don’t have to spend time frantically crying trying to rearrange where everything goes. I have space. I have 10-20 lbs of space left in a bunch of bags. That’s so easy!

I am happy that I have a waterproof heavier coat, and a warm baby-wearing coat in storage for when we come back. We have a coat that will probably be inherited by Middle Child by then in terms of size. Noah has a mid-weight coat that is not at all good for rain.

Eldest Child, Her Sweetness and I already have lightweight rain coats that are coming with us to monsoon season.

I think we need to acquire: a proper set of rain gear for Noah and Middle Child that is lightweight for the heat. Noah could use a jacket that is a bit heavier that will keep rain off him, but Inverness rarely drops below freezing so he isn’t going to need a super heavy coat almost ever. He’s just not the sort. We will need a slightly heavier water proof coat for Eldest Child for when she comes back. Long johns for everyone except for Her Sweetness? Luckily we have gotten/will get so many more hand me downs from our little cousin that Her Sweetness will mostly be set. I don’t think that will remain an option long term because my children are huge and Jenny’s children are fairly petite. But she hasn’t quite passed up the little cousin yet.

I might look for a pair of serious rain boots in Portland. I suspect my children should wait and get them after we see what size they are come next winter here. When I can talk Noah into wearing shoes at all it is a victory so he will probably not get real boots for walking in the rain. He just likes to leave me things to worry about. He’s kind like that.

I am sorta hoping that buying things off season means I’ll find some deals. *Cross fingers*

A bit less than 7 months until we move into our next forever home. Will this one actually last forever? I don’t know. Jenny is already talking about moving away for retirement. Maybe I’ll have to follow her again. But this is going to be decades of peace and security.

I’m tired. I’m going to go lay down again.

 

PT

1 Reply

I did it. I haven’t done the dilation yet. It takes privacy. I should have done it in the bath tub but frankly I am feeling overwhelmed with all the “must do” stuff. I made seven phone calls today. Only four of them turned out to be useful. (Two important confirmations; two appointments with solicitors.)

I feel on the verge of tears. I go through cycles of dealing with my feelings around disability. But the plain truth is I have been in pain for almost 30 years. I need to give zero fucks what anyone else thinks about how I live with that. But I’m not there. I feel ashamed. I feel like I am stupid and pathetic and I should shut up and just work harder.

But I would be this degraded if I had stopped working harder years ago.

It’s a Catch 22.

When Her Sweetness wakes up we will walk over to Jenny’s. I will put one, maybe two plants in the ground because that makes my soul feel better. I will decide after the first one how my arms feel. Middle Child will get to play with his cousins. We will get in our daily walk going one way and we will take a taxi back. We shouldn’t stay very many hours. Tomorrow will be an incredibly long day going to Aberdeen to meet a solicitor. But, this is the process.

Do it.

Rough morning.

Leave a reply

Go to sleep crying, wake up crying. Why not.

Noah wanted me to listen to a chapter of this Buddhist book he gets a lot of value from. The point (very roughly) is that pain and discomfort are lessons and you shouldn’t hide from them you should face them.

But I can’t really get over hearing this from the point of view of being a person who has degenerative, chronic health problems. If I spend all of my time thinking about how much pain I am in I am going to spend my life walking around weeping. And then I am very unpleasant and uncomfortable to be around and people won’t like me very much. I made breakfast pretty shitty because I couldn’t stop crying.

Noah is very much looking forward to retirement. It will mean that he no longer has to do boring work for a pay check and he can instead do fun work for free. He can help people who cannot afford to pay him.

I am looking forward to decades of decreasing ability where I can do less and less of tasks that are basic to keeping me alive and I definitely can’t do any fun extra work because it will hurt my body and decrease my longevity.

I would kill a dog who was in as much pain as I am in. It would be cruel to keep them alive to suffer.

But I need to do everything possible to extend my life. Which means I need to do less work that gives me any pride in myself. I need to do less work that has any physical cost. My coach person was going through lists of things including moving wet laundry from the washer to the dryer and talking about how I need to weigh these costs and think about whether it is worth decreasing my long-term functionality so I really just shouldn’t do any of these things.

But I should spend a lot more time being fully present with how much pain I am. Watching stupid tv to pass time and distract myself from crying… somehow makes me a lesser person. I’m on a full on self-pity trip today, lemme tell you.

I am on palliative care until I die. Most people don’t enter palliative care until they have a few months to live. I am supposed to be doing everything I can to turn this into 30 or 40 or 50 years of life.

Because I owe my family that.

My buddy is right that it’s pretty stupid for us to look at big pretty houses with room for enormous gardens and lots of space to pick up and tidy and clean.

That will shorten my life.

When we have a house I do need to immediately hire help. Or I will shorten my life.

She asked me how many years I think I have left at this functionality. I don’t know. I am in a much worse place than I was 10 years ago. I already demur a lot of activities. I need to spend less time with Jenny than I have so far because it wears me out.

Not because she is bad. I really love her and I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I will get to spend my declining years getting as much of her company as I can physically handle. But the amount I can handle is lower than what I’ve been doing. My pain levels are absolutely through the roof right now.

And I feel ashamed. I feel stupid. I feel bad. I feel useless. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I am supposed to work and I am supposed to not work. I am supposed to do things that make me feel good about myself and I am not supposed to waste spoons.

When we go to Portland I can’t bebop around spending lots of time with everyone I love. I need to see people once or twice a week and that’s it. Especially for the first three weeks when I am alone with the kids and I have to do all the grown up work. I don’t have anything left over to give to friends and that hurts.

Yeah, I need to do the PT exercises more religiously so I preserve what strength I have left. But there is no more regaining of strength. I’m not really ever going to improve. I’m just trying to slow the rate of decline.

I am feeling incredibly bad about myself today. What is the point of spending this much money on help and being this idle so that I can extend my life?

I would kill a dog who was in this much pain.

PT

Leave a reply

I did most of the non TRX stuff yesterday and all the TRX stuff today. I punted a little on the inverted row with knees bent. I did one rep instead of three. It was my last one and I haven’t done these exercises in months.

I am so fucking tired.

But my joints feel slightly less locked than they did when I first got started. I know I need to do this. It hurts. It is hard.

But. I did it. The only PT exercise I haven’t done at all yet is dilation. I will try to do it in the morning. I’m only going to do that one every three days. It’s really emotionally hard.

I do want to live as long as I can to stay with my family. I know I have to do this.

Let me find my crystal ball.

Leave a reply

“How long do you think you have at the current level of physical function, and are you taking that into account as you look at the next x years of your life. That house seems to have a lot of steps, for example. Besides getting more rest because you consciously rest, are you thinking about how your environment impacts you in the long term? For example- in our new house we put a 3/4 bath on the main level, and planned a path to retrofit an elevator if necessary in the future. The doorways were planned to be wheelchair friendly on the main level. We’ve had enough short- medium term health things that have required avoiding stairs to know how important that is. Are you planning for the house to help you be in less pain?”

This is a hard one. I have absolutely no way of predicting when my body is going to fail. But yes, I need to be planning around a ground floor bedroom for me even if everyone else is up stairs. No doctors have been able to give me a timeline on my failing body. Frankly mostly they express shock that I am still moving.

I’m not planning around this how I should be.

I need to be honest that the reason I can handle coping with this apartment only being cleaned to the level the kids and Noah want to clean it is because it is half the space we are used to and we are leaving soon so the corners of muck aren’t my problem.

I am way past the point where some rest is going to restore my vitality. My vitality is gone. I am playing a losing game until I die. But will that be a fast five years or thirty years of a slow but steady decline? Will I last fifty years?

I don’t know. I know that my great grandmother was considered too mean to die. I like to think I will live long enough to be a torment to my grand children. I’ll be the grandmother who says no and means it. Ha.

I’m actually finding this upsetting to think about. I don’t know how long I will have this level of functionality. I know that keeping as much movement as possible in my day to day life will increase how long I keep this level of function. Any movement in the direction of being sedentary causes me problems. The more I sit the more I hurt. Stairs are a mixed bag but walking upwards of three miles a day really helps. My hips hurt, but they hurt more when they are locked.

I’m really sad thinking about the ticking time bomb of my body.

I travel like I do right now because I will almost certainly not be able to do this when I am old.

PT

Leave a reply

I did all of the band exercises. I’m jimmy rigging one of them because the original band broke and I’m using the one I have left for all of them. So now I can do one arm at a time instead of doing them in tandem. My shoulders are in bad shape. The grinding was absolutely gross to hear. Adhesions R Us.

Bird dogs

Rock backs (I don’t know what this is actually called.)

Wall sits

Squats

Other yoga-tastic stretches to loosen up my hips and shoulders.

Neck stretches

My wrists are in absolutely terrible shape. Bird dogs hurt.

I can’t list stretches. I am bad at remembering the names. But I spent half an hour working out my body after we did about 2.6 miles walking today. (My tracker shut the fuck off so I don’t know precisely how far we went but I know how far the store is.)

Medication and medical care.

Leave a reply

It was occurring to me this morning that I’m doing surprisingly well for the level of medical care I have been receiving. It helps that I am very consciously doing less. There is less cleaning on the road. I am not gardening much. I am not running around socializing as much as I did in CA and I don’t feel the internal pressure to be helping my neighbors. (I loved my neighbors–don’t get me wrong. But I put a lot of pressure on myself to show up for them when I should have been sitting at home resting.)

Noah agrees that I am doing very well at not exploding. I am not crying all the time. That’s really good.

I am in tremendous pain. But instead of continuing to do lots of work anyway I am going limp. My arms are doing quite badly. My back and hips hurt so much that I am gritting my teeth a lot of the time. That’s not great.

But I am doing incredibly well at not taking it out on anyone else. Given how poorly I feel… I am proud of myself. I am doing quite well at keeping my poop in a group. I have not been screaming. I have not even been shouting much. I am quiet a fair bit. I alternate between mild exercise (I need to be doing my PT and I’m not) and a lot of resting/talking to the family.

The apartment is absolutely always less tidy than I would like. I am choosing to watch extra Netflix instead of cleaning it up because I need to not do more to wear myself out.

I am being a grown up. It’s kind of weird.

I am having some mood swings. I absolutely always feel like I “should” be doing better. But all in all I’m not doing shittily. How long have I been doing ok? I don’t know. Hard to judge.

Homework (what do I need to work on)

Leave a reply

This morning I am waking up feeling gooey, schmoopy, overwhelming love for my family. Ok. Time to think about the stuff I need to work on about myself.

What are the whack a mole problems that come up? Many of them are problems in me and related to my thinking as much or more as they are rooted in anyone else’s behavior. Like: I really struggle with feeling like I want/need my kids to be more self motivated than they are. Then I get these reminders that they are actually really doing exceptionally well for their ages and developmental levels and my expectations are almost certainly out of whack. My kids have different things they struggle with: my son tends towards passive aggression and my daughter tends towards executive function failures. Ok. That’s not out of line with fairly normal stuff for kids. What I need to work on in myself is feeling more patience with the fact that they struggle in these areas and I have chosen to not put them into school where there would be teams of other adults teaching them how to manage these issues. I choose to be the one who must solve these problems or it is my fault they still exist. Sometimes I struggle with feeling overwhelmed about the magnitude of difficulty of work I have assigned myself. But it isn’t my children’s fault that I assigned myself this role.

The thing is, even though I struggle with some of their behaviors sometimes… I truly like my children and I feel like I have done well turning them into little people to be proud of. It has been the result of massive, overwhelming work on my part. I watch my children night and day and give them little course corrections, assistance, reminders, and help. NO FUCKING WONDER THEY TREAT ME LIKE THEIR EXTERNALIZED BRAIN. I can look at my Eldest Child and tell what she is thinking about with a greater than 90% accuracy rate. “You are having x feeling about y thing. Do you think maybe you should do z?” Her response is always “HOW CAN YOU DO THAT?!?!?! That’s a good suggestion…..”

I only guess my Middle Child’s thoughts and feelings with a more like 40% accuracy rate and he and I both feel a sting because of that. He consciously and deliberately shields his thoughts more. He works on having a blank facial expression. He works on projecting feelings he is not having. He got that from me. I feel like I am letting him down by not being able to read him better. He feels misunderstood and less appreciated. But he works on making it hard. He wants me to find a way to work harder and still read him so that he can feel as understood as EC. That’s complicated.

He got in trouble this week. He set his assignments on Monday. I didn’t add extra shit. He picked what he wanted to do for the week. He needed to get his work done on Thursday so we could go have a visit with the cousins. He didn’t get his work done. I was pissy and impatient because he really didn’t come close and he spent the whole day dawdling and I lost out on a visit too. (I can’t just leave him home and go without him for a list of reasons.) So I told him that since he wanted to just sit around and not get his work done during work time that he could just sit around and do nothing during play time and he could do it in his room without toys. He didn’t have a fun day.

The next morning when he woke up he had a fire in his belly because he didn’t want to miss out on any of his plans or on EC’s birthday fun. He got up super motivated. He got a bunch of his chores done before I even saw him in the morning. The first time I saw him in the morning was when I was waking up and still sitting in bed. He came in timidly and I smiled at him and invited him into the bed for morning snuggle. (We have much better days as a family when we start out with everyone snuggling for at least a few minutes.) He talked about his plan for getting everything done early so that he had a buffer in case he planned poorly and it took longer than he intended.

He got everything done with time to spare.

We walked over to Jenny’s instead of going on a family walk and taking a taxi. On the way we had an hour to talk to each other. The conversation was wide ranging and interesting. I asked him what he thought about the day before when he was in trouble. He said he spent most of the time trying not to think. I said, “So kind of an extended meditation practice?” He said yeah. He didn’t use the word, but he was trying to not catastrophize. He said (barely paraphrased), “I was so grateful that the first thing you did when you saw me this morning was smile at me. It showed me for sure that I was right to try not to think all the super bad thoughts. I made a mistake and I’m going to be able to get over it and you will get over it and we will move on.” I told him that yeah we will move on. He’s a great kid and I love him very much and I need him to trust me. So when I say “Do x so you can have y” if he doesn’t do x he can’t have y.

He said, “I know. It’s part of why I respect you a lot. I know you work really hard at being someone who is honest with me every day.”

I have a lot of fear that part of his passive aggression is an attempt to get back some control from just how controlling I am. It’s not a healthy way to try to get back some of that control. He has a lot more control over his schooling now, but I think he needs to have just a little bit more. I think that when we get a house again he and EC are going to be allowed to shut me out of their rooms for a full year so they can figure out their own tidying habits without me needing to be so fucking controlling because we are packing over and over.

I truly literally have to be this controlling right now or we won’t be able to get packing done with the travel. It’s rough.

When this is no longer necessary I need to give them a bunch of space to try things for themselves and fail.

I really struggle with the fact that they don’t have much in the way of long-term planning skills… but that’s my problem because they are age appropriate or a bit above. I need to control *myself* more, not them in this area.

We have done a lot of work on getting them to see me as an independent person. Frankly, having Her Sweetness has helped. They can see when I need to not take care of them because I have other obligations and both of the big kids are super mature about understanding that they got to be the whole center of my universe for many years and it is wildly uncool for them to not let Her Sweetness have a similar amount of time and energy. We are still struggling on getting them to let me rest without interruption, but they are better than they used to be and if I were willing to set more boundaries I think they would fall into line.

The struggle is I hate setting boundaries with them because that feels like I am doing a mean/punishing thing. I’m not. I’m valuing myself.

I really struggle with valuing myself. I really struggle with saying, “I need to not do anything for anyone because I have to take care of myself.” I think I went to so many doctor visits because every time I walked into an office the medical practitioner would freak out about how badly my body was doing and give me a tiny little bit of support so I could go back and do more work than I am truly physically capable of doing. I’m not going to have that medical team keeping me on life support here.

I have to value myself enough to say no way more and that’s hard. I get so much of my self esteem from doing things for people. From doing work and supporting people I gain the sense that it’s ok for me to keep taking resources for myself because I am sharing as much as I get or more. But this isn’t sustainable.

I don’t actually think the problem is with my kids behaving badly. They are really amazing children. I think the problem is me valuing myself and my need for rest. I absolutely literally require more down time than I give myself. I have to exercise in a fairly regimented way and I haven’t been doing it because I am exhausting myself providing emotional care for other people. That’s not healthy or a good way to be a role model.

I don’t want to teach my kids to be how I am. Which means I need to change.

I need to spend more time resting. I need to spend more time with just adults not taking care of children. I need to turn down opportunities to do labor (emotional and physical) for people. Not because I hate anybody. Not because I am angry and throwing a tantrum. Because I need rest. Because I need to love on me the way I love on my children. Because I need to spend as much time paying attention to my needs as I do to my children’s needs.

I learn a lot from my kids. They work to set boundaries for themselves. They understand that limits exist in their lives for their benefit. They do better and feel better if they exercise and eat healthy food and turn off the screens at night and get good rest.

I need to learn from my children.

That figures.

Leave a reply

I booked us one night in Aulani using time share points. So the big kids could go to child care and play and have fun. We booked 4 hours of babysitting for the little kid. We booked spa services so we could have access to the fun water area of the spa.

But my kids woke up sick. And the babysitting service is not ok with exposing their sitter to sick children. Well, at least our spa services only overlap by 15 minutes. The two big kids can be alone with the baby for that long.

And we will otherwise spend all of our time there in our room.

Fucking cheers.

At least I get to do laundry?

Growing pains and mistakes

1 Reply

Many of my friends are traumatized people. When they respond to me or give me feedback… they are not taking careful stock of what I am doing and reacting to my actions. They are responding from a place of wounding. That’s not wrong and it’s not bad and it’s not always irrelevant… but it’s important for me to keep in mind so I don’t flagellate myself to death because they are upset at what I am doing. Their reaction is more about them than me. But I take it hard.

I try hard to ask a lot of different kinds of people about my behavior for that reason. I try to ask people with a wide range of backgrounds and experience. I try hard to regulate myself more strongly off of people who have actual relevant experience in whatever issue I am trying to deal with at the moment.

Sometimes I really fail at that and I spend days raging at myself and feeling like there is absolutely no hope of me ever being better because I have triggered a traumatized person. That’s not very useful for me, my husband, my kids, or even my friends.

I’ve been reading more psych books. Because I’m trying to find the middle path.

No, offering my children a variety of not-so-comfortable inducements that they can try and reject at will is not the same thing as spanking them for being bad. It just isn’t. We are trying things because I am out of cope and some of the things we try are going to be less than optimal and they will fail.

That’s fucking life and it isn’t the same thing as child abuse.

We tried it. The first day they thought it was very useful to them and they wanted to try again. The second day they didn’t like it and they felt kind of bad about it and they said they didn’t want to do that again.

Ok. We won’t do that again. My goal was not to inflict pain or punishment on them. It was to create a less comfortable environment.

The fact that folks would be totally ok with me drugging the shit out of my kids to have a similar kind of behavioral impact is utterly bizarre to me.

I am trying to figure out what lines need to be held. I am going to mess that up sometimes. We renegotiated academic goals about a month ago. We halved the work load. I tried to hold the kids to what they agreed to because that is my job. But it may be that once again the goals we set are not the right ones and we will have to adapt.

I am freaking out partially because I have not stood next to people who did this well. I am faking it. I don’t know what the hell I am doing. All my classroom experience did not prepare me for this part. In a classroom, the standards are arbitrarily set by the state and the students measure up or they fail. I am not setting arbitrary standards for my kids. I don’t have “You must be x proficient” goals for them and thus we are flailing really hard as we figure out what our goals should be and how hard I should insist on meeting the goals the kids claim they want to reach.

This is a process.

But I need to stop screaming.

I don’t have rest. I don’t get much support. Almost everyone who says, “I will help you by doing x” has turned out to be fucking lying and I need to stop allowing anyone to claim they will help me with my kids. It just results in me hating my friends with the fire of a thousand suns because almost no one follows up on what they say they will do.

The people who have absolutely rigorously met the standards they set for me are rare. I can pretty much count them on my fingers. I think that the fact that they go off of one hand is something that I should be celebrating instead of being so upset that the number of people doesn’t reach my toes.

But people keep making promises and not keeping them and that hurts me.

I don’t feel entitled to that hurt and that’s part of the problem. I don’t let myself admit to myself just how much these people are hurting me until I am exploding with rage all over the place because I can’t suppress my feelings anymore. I try hard not to get angry about people saying “I will do x with the kids” and then never doing it because I want to honor that people mean well. They want to be helping me. But the reality is that most of the time they want to feel helpful not be helpful and I need to stop looking to those people. Really almost any people.

We need to find a way to balance this so we can be self sufficient. That is not what I have been trying for…. ever.

The psych book I’m reading right now Born To Be Good talks about how in the US people define themselves as individuals (I’m an artist, a runner, a dancer, a writer) and people in other countries tend to define themselves through their relationships (I’m a daughter, a mother, a wife, a friend, a cousin) and a lot of my problem has been that I have been trying as hard as I can all of my life to define myself through my friendships because the daughter/sister/niece roles failed so abjectly for me.

But my friends have not been able to turn and be stable for me the way that family relationships do for other people and that’s been really destructive to my entire mental health.

Leaning this hard on my friendships for my identity and my self worth has resulted in decades of feeling worthless and like I should kill myself because no one is ever going to prioritize me like I do them. I hurt myself showing up for friendships when I should be selfish and care for myself and that’s stupid.

For the last couple of days I have been trying to process for myself that 50% of all people who hit grade 12 in school are below proficiency. My 5th grader is already writing essays that rival many of the 17 year olds I taught.

Maybe I don’t need to be so worried about them being “at grade level” and doing all the busy work of going through school. My kids have a very solid grasp of grammar and math. They are approximately at grade level. They would probably be B students if they went straight into school right now for the last few months of this school year.

Why am I so freaked out every moment of every day about failing them as a teacher and not preparing them for what they need to know? Because nothing I did was ever good enough to make my friends show up for me in the ways they constantly claimed they would so how can I know if what I am giving my kids will be enough for their future so they can show up and do what they want to do?

Maybe that isn’t entirely my battle to fight.

My kids have been digging in their heels and doing less and less. They were told weeks ago when we reset the metrics that they had to be current in order to go hang out with the babysitter. They then messed around on the boat and did nothing and got a week behind. They have not been interested in catching up since they got here.

Why am I wearing myself out trying to force them through the work necessary to earn the free time they want to have? This is so stupid.

I know that they can get all of their work done in 2 hours a day with time to spare. Maybe I need to give them two hours to do it then kick them out to play outside by themselves while I have down time. If you don’t get your stuff done so you can go with your friend, sucks to be you. Play by yourself and get out of my face. I act like I owe them constant stimulation and entertainment and so do they. And it is turning me into a psycho harpy. This is not working. I can’t be 24/7 stimulation for 3 kids and have anything left for my own health.

I don’t think we should lower the standards to nothing and completely unschool. But I also think that if they want to fail and not earn rewards…. I should let them. I have not been letting them. I have been hurting myself dragging them to their rewards.

Why. What am I teaching them?

That I care way more about their happiness than they have to. I care more about their happiness than my happiness or Noah’s happiness or my health.

Why.

Because I am afraid that if I don’t they will treat me like my friends.

You know what? I am leaving the fucking country because I am so angry about how my friends treat me. I have chased people for years begging for their love. I’m doing the same thing with my kids.

This is stupid.

Maybe if I write it down I can put it down.

2 Replies

I heard the end. I kind of recognized it as it happened and I kind of recognize it in the rear view mirror.

I like doing things for people. I like feeling useful and valuable and like I am of service. It’s a pretty overly core part of my identity. Many of my relationships involve a lot of me doing work for benefit of other peoples lives. I like being a supporting character in your story. I love you and I want you to have a glorious story arc that has nothing to do with me. So I’ll show up and clean your house.

I’ll drive across state lines to unpack and repack you while you are too depressed and in pain to do it for yourself.

I’ll take you with me on major vacations, even to other countries.

I’ll buy a fucking time share so you can have the vacations you want that you can’t afford.

But when you spend a week ignoring me on the week that was supposed to make up for you ignoring me for a year and you turn to me and casually say, “Oh by the way I need to talk to you about using next years points for a trip with my family” that I am clearly not invited on….

I just because an ATM to you.

No. Done. Stop. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Nobody gets to treat me like an ATM. Especially not a rich white person. I don’t think so.

That right there is my line. I can see it very clearly. You stopped seeing this as a relationship where you have to give back. I’m supposed to keep giving to you no matter how shittily you treat me. No matter how much you cancel plans with me because everyone and everything else is more important.

It was a solid year of you canceling 80%. You wanted me holding time open for you so that you could cancel at the last minute. That makes you feel wanted and loved and connected. You could show up if you felt like it. I feel like you very rarely fucking prioritize me while expecting me to prioritize you greatly physically, spiritually, and financially.

Never make someone your priority when you are their option.

I wanted to be as important to you as you are to me. I was an important source of labor and money. You didn’t show up to be support for me.

You promised me that you would have strong relationships with my kids. I can count how many times you’ve seriously spent time with them in the last three years on my fingers.

Stop acting like I can’t track things and notice patterns. I’m not stupid. You make promises you won’t deliver on and you broke my fucking heart.

And you told me that you dropping me was all my fault because I got too angry. A lot of why I was angry is because you make promises and don’t keep them. So this cycle is all my fault.

Ok. I will step out of it. I don’t need to be in it. Then it won’t continue. Then it won’t be my fault. That is the power I have.

I know. It is never your fault you cancel. You are disabled. Hi. According to the very expensive team of people I pay I am disabled. And I am hurting myself by trying to show up for people who have no regard for me or my limits.

When will I decide that I am worth treating like a person of value? Because as long as I keep getting myself into situations where I believe I must stay in the relationship because I have known them for X time and I need them to stay in my life or it means I am bad and unworthy of having relationships…. that’s not a good dynamic. I should keep people in my life if I feel better about myself with the relationship instead of worse.

I turned hard to her when the cheating debacle went sideways. I was not allowed to pour myself into romantic relationships. I tried to have a major non romantic relationship.

It was never as major on the other end. I am very optional. That’s healthy! I need to… understand that this is very optional.

And stop picking the option that makes me cry. Cause hey dumbass, if you keep doing the same thing over and over hoping that someday someone will finally treat you well… fuck it. Move on with your life. There are 7 billion people. Don’t chase people who are going to treat you like an ATM. That’s not psychologically healthy.

Why don’t you take some vitamins?

Leave a reply

As a person with chronic health complaints I get stupid comments from people about what I should do to fix my body. Trying vitamins is always high on the list. Well, today I finally got the bill for allllll of my treatment last year with the pain management doctor. I paid well over $4,000 fucking dollars for fucking vitamins last year.

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. With. Your. Stupid. Advice.

I paid more than that for the doctor visits. But that’s a low ball estimate for the shots plus all the god damn pills I take. I supplement all the things.

I will say that I noticed a difference from the magnesium when I was pregnant. Holy tomato that made a difference. Otherwise… I’m not sure I can feel it. But I’m bouncing back incredibly quickly.

Ugh. I’ve still not been given my blood results from November. Crank. Whine. Fuss.