I dream of…
…Marie!
Ever the vivid dreamer, I had a dream last night that I chuckled about upon waking.
I dreamt I was in the mall at a little boutique stand looking for the perfect diaper bag. Because, wouldn’t you know, every diaper bag I’ve ever owned has fallen apart long before it’s time.
The stand was hopping with business and was being manned by 5 different women. I made my diaper bag selection, paid $40 for it and walked back to the food court to meet my husband.
When I opened the box to show my husband, I discovered that I had been given the wrong order. I went back to the stand where an employee handed me a different box. Again I went back to my husband, opened that box and found the wrong bag inside. I went back to the stand and was given another box. The same scenario played out twice more.
Upon returning to the stand a fifth time I was rather aggravated and demanded to speak to the manager. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the lovely Marie.
My demeanor softened and I told her that I had ordered the dragonfly bag and had yet to receive it. She then said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t entirely honest with you earlier, but we’re all out of that bag.”
Though I wondered why her employees hadn’t just explained this, I decided to let it go and asked what bags were available.
“Do you have the aquamarine butterfly bag?” I asked
“No,” came the answer.
“Do you have the butterflies and chocolate ribbon bag?” I asked
“No,” came the answer
Hmmm.
I pondered.
I didn’t want any of the other bags. So I asked her when she would be making some more dragonfly bags and she said not until next Tuesday. I was prepared to demand my money back but instead said,
“It’s ok. I’ll come back. I know how busy you are with three…well, almost three kids and all.”
She smiled and smoothed the shirt over her still flat belly. Then she looked up at me with a look of wonder and slight fear. It was then I realized she had absolutely no idea who I was. I smiled, turned and walked away and into consciousness.
Let me just say to you, Marie, that my dream of your less than satisfactory customer service, has in no way affected my good opinion of you. :)
So, what about the rest of you? Have you ever had a vivid dream about a fellow blogger you’ve never met?
Forty Six
As a 17 year old teenager, I never would have predicted that by age 26 I would have been married 7 years and born 3 children. I would never have predicted that I wouldn’t have a college degree or that I wouldn’t be married to the boyfriend I had at that time.
My plans seemed so certain, and so unlike the way my life has turned out.
I always knew I would marry, but didn’t think I would be barely 19 when it happened.
I always knew I wanted to have babies, but didn’t anticipate the part where they grow up.
I always knew I would change both physically and emotionally, but I didn’t think it would be so hard.
When I think of my children I look forward to the next twenty years with joy. In addition to Mother, I might carry the titles of Mother-in-Law and Grandma when I’m forty six.
When I think of my husband I look forward to the next twenty years with joy. Each year I’ve been with this man, has been better than the last.
When I think of my Grandmother, I look forward to the next twenty years with hope and determination. If she has survived 50 years of panic attacks, then I can do it too. If she can call me in a pleasant mood while telling me that all of her hair has fallen out and that the chemotherapy makes her so ill she can’t move, then I can also choose to practice calm thoughts and hope in the face of darkness and pain.
There is much to fear, and much to hope for in the next twenty years. While I can’t choose what will come, I can choose how I will react to what comes. One thing is certain, all the good things I envision for myself in twenty years, can only be reached by taking one persevering step at a time.
This post inspired by Scribbit’s March Write-Away Contest
Anatomy of a Panic Attack
The following information is presented according to Summer. I am not a physician, nor do I claim to have any answers. Always seek the advice of a medical professional if you think you are struggling with any ailments
A panic attack is defined as the abrupt onset of intense fear that reaches a peak within a few minutes and includes at least four of the following symptoms:
* a feeling of imminent danger or doom
* the need to escape
* heart palpitations
* sweating
* trembling
* shortness of breath or
a smothering feeling
* a feeling of choking
* chest pain or discomfort
* nausea or abdominal discomfort
* dizziness or lightheadedness
* a sense of things being unreal, depersonalization (like an out of body experience)
* a fear of losing control or “going crazy”
* a fear of dying
* tingling sensation
* chills or heat flush
Panic attacks often occur unexpectedly, sometimes even during sleep. I’ve had this happen.
There are two aspects of a panic attack. The physical and the emotional. Either one can show up first or they can show up together. Usually, if the physical symptoms present first, then I can keep myself emotionally under control. I can realize that my body is having a panic attack or “fight or flight” response, and therefore not get, well, panicked that is something is horribly wrong. That doesn’t always mean I can stop the physical symptoms right away, but I won’t aggravate them further with fear about what could be happening.
When the emotional symptoms present first, it’s a lot harder for me to realize I’m having a panic attack, therefore easier to panic and swirl into a downward spiral of negative thoughts.
I had a beast of a panic attack Wednesday evening, the likes of which I haven’t had for about 18 months. I honestly think it was some depressing thoughts that triggered it this time, due to the book I had just finished, The Giver. I’ve never read that book before and as it unfolded I became more and more horrified at the society that was represented and the things people were doing. I got waaaay to into it you might say and put it down feeling very depressed.
Depressing thought led to depressing thought and somehow I found myself scrutinizing my own behavior, focusing on every negative aspect of my mothering and suddenly things became very wrong. I began crying uncontrollably and feeling an awful sense of doom. I felt intensely depressed and intensely afraid that I would do something to myself because of it. I called a friend to get some perspective but she (well meaning though she was) brought up some things that made me more terrified of what could happen because of the way I was feeling. I was also terrified that I would feel that way forever, become a basket case and not be able to be there for my family. My mind raced through every possible reason why I might be feeling this way so strongly and so suddenly. Not coming up with any answers made me panic even more.
I hung up and sat at the dinner table, sobbing and gasping for breath. That’s when I realized I was shaking badly. And suddenly I knew what was happening. With the knowledge came the will to stop the sobbing, and breath. Slowly, terrorizing warmth spread through my body, but with that I knew, came the peak of the attack. And it began fading away. Leaving me to wonder, why I had been such a mess in the first place.
When you’re in the middle of a panic attack, it is nearly impossible to see clearly, to think clearly, to realize the despair you feel won’t plague you the rest of your life.
These feelings were even harder for me, because at one time a few years ago, despair and panic attacks did plague me for weeks. My only respite was sleep, my only focus, survival. Somehow I got through. But I pray to God I never have to go through weeks of hell again.
And if I’m not visiting all of you or posting as much on here I hope you’ll understand. I think I need to up my meds a bit as this wasn’t the first sign of depression and anxiety issues returning.
Absence has made my heart grow fonder but it hasn’t changed my mind
Five and a half years. That’s how long we’ve been out here, in graduate school.
Thousands of miles away from family, our kids hardly even know their relatives. The last time we saw them was 2 1/2 years ago, when Count Dooku was 4 and Obi-Wan was 3.
In some ways, I love being far away from my family. There are lots of…things, of a stressful nature happening constantly. And it’s good to be distanced from it. But at other times I’m sad about it.
Like when I think of my littlest sister, who I use to dream of driving around to the mall with her friends as she got older, and us dying our hair together and maybe even me being her confidante. She was only 10 when we moved away, and she’s growing up without me around. Her most crucial years and I’m missing them.
Or like when I think of my mom, who has always been my good friend and who I’ve only grown closer to and developed more respect for as I’ve become a mother myself. I wish she could see her grandkids whenever she wanted.
Or like when I think of my littlest brother, who is preparing to serve a mission for our church. I hear he’s six foot two now. But I wouldn’t let that go to his head of course. He’s still my little brother.
For as much as I love my family, and want my children to be near them and really know them, I don’t have any desire to move back to where they are right now. And it doesn’t all revolve around family issues. The culture in Utah is… well, when you’re a Mormon who has lived most of your life in Utah, it’s easy to confuse the culture and the gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been so refreshing to separate the culture from the gospel and gain a better perspective of the simplicity of the Church’s teachings. I really don’t want my kids to grow up in Utah for that reason and for some others. I want them to have more clarity than I did. To not waver in their testimonies of the gospel because of the unkindness or poor examples of members they will inevitably meet who don’t fully live what they claim to believe in. Of course this happens in all religions. And could happen even outside of Utah, but it’s a worry for me all the same.
And I don’t even know when Hubby will graduate or where we’ll move.
We started out on the same page, neither of us having any desire to go back to Utah. But absence has made his heart grow fonder. And he would like to live near his family again. So I’ve been pondering my feelings since I figure the possibility of moving to Utah may come into play in the near future. He’s been told he’ll graduate this year. Yet there is still no end in sight…
Adorable
It’s simply adorable,
when you tell your four year old son he is adorable
and he says in reply,
“I not adowable, I Obi-Wan!”
It’s simply adorable,
when Count Dooku scarfs his dinner without complaint
and flex’s his arm muscles,
commenting that they’re bigger already.
It’s simply adorable,
when Angel girl scrambles toward the piano
every time someone starts playing,
so she can play too.
Some days, I just can’t get enough of these kids.
Let’s Party!
Hello to all of you who are hopping over from the Ultimate Blog Party
This is me:
What’s that? I’m so young and beautiful? Oh, thank you thank you!
What’s that? Erm, yes that’s a current picture, why would you think… Oh fine! You caught me, That was me 3 years ago. This is me 2 weeks ago:
See where even the smallest amount of added weight goes? The dreaded double chin. But I’m working on it people. I’ve been exercising consistently for a month now and soon I’ll post a current picture of me without the evil double chin. Now, going on…
If I had to sum myself up in one sentence it would be this: Moving through life at the speed of light
Here are some of my hobbies:
* I am also an avid genealogist. If you’re interested in learning about it, email me. I will tell you all about getting started, or help you with your brick wall, free. It is my passion.
* I play the piano. My favorite books to play from are Yanni In My Time, Pride and Prejudice 2005 score and The Piano movie score.
* I am an avid reader and I also like to write. Poetry is my number one medium, but I’ve also written some short stories and essays and am currently working on a Fantasy genre novel.
* I run a small blog design business and just started up a review blog to talk about the things I like and the things I don’t.
Well, I could add a few other things but I best stop there. Point is, if I’m not teaching myself something new or doing something productive on a regular basis I just don’t feel very fulfilled. I am a visual learner, usually I see something once and I can figure out how to do it. I’m fairly certain I can do anything I really want too. Except for math. Math and I are not friends.
I often get asked by people how I find time to “do it all.” Well, I certainly don’t “do it all” but I can attribute my ability to have many different hobbies in addition to being a stay at home mom and wife to being an excellent multi-tasker, and to not working on all of them at once. I work on them in shifts. I focus on one for a few months or a few days and then work on another.
Another thing you should know about me:
I struggle with depression and anxiety. Both of these stem from a deeper illness, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Sometimes people joke about being “so OCD”. Well, this is the real deal, the kind that if you have it, you don’t make jokes about it because sometimes you’d rather die than live with it. It sucks, but it has helped shape who I am and I kind of like me these days. It’s part of why I busy myself with so much. It’s to escape the hell that can be my mind at times.
My blog is, I think, very true to my real life self. I don’t follow any rules. Sometimes I post recipes because I’m on another baking kick. Sometimes my posts are downers because I am depressed. Sometimes my post are happy because I am feeling hopeful and optimistic, sometimes my posts are funny because I’m feeling clever and confident. You never know what you’re gonna get because I never know how I’m going to feel on a particular day.
If that sounds like you’re idea of a good blog read, stick around. I’d love to get to know you better.
Now, for a party game!
Let’s play the word chain game. Here’s how you play:
The object of this comment game is to post one word, and the next player posts a word that is somehow connected to the first word. For instance, the first person might post the word “dog.” The next person might choose the word “poop.” The third person could post the word “diaper” and so on. So here is the first word: First commenter gets to start by posting a word that is connected to this one:
SUGAR
Calling all LOST Fans
Come talk about tonight’s episode over here!
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