one garbage bag

4:00 a.m. It is raining. The rain from Dorian.  It may be coming in the basement and may be wetting the two boxes on the bottom of the cardboard box pile that I should have put on a pallet.  Oh, the basement is a mess.  It is an unruly pile.  I tell myself, no pile is too big or too messy once I dig in.

I joined a Facebook declutter group a few years ago that doesn’t get much traffic these days, but every so often someone, usually new, pitifully asks for help with the big, impossible pile of junk somewhere—attic, basement, room with a door that can be closed, dining room table that is never used for food, etc.  And the answer is always, grab one garbage bag and fill it with whatever is garbage.  Take it out of your house.  Don’t look at the stuff that needs boxing or selling or putting away.  Just do one garbage bag today. Continue reading

morning pep talk

Julia finished two days.  She has come home happy both days.  I’ve gotten no frantic phone calls, emails or texts from anyone at school.  She lost her binder on the first day (found yesterday) and her new to her jacket on the second (she will look for it today).  There is a strict phone rule in her physics class—if the phone comes out in class, you lose it.  First time, until the end of class, second time, it goes to the house office with unknown consequences.  Good black line rule for Julia, nice that it is for everyone. I’ve driven her to school these two days and I will do so tomorrow as well.  Buses are messed up (Did I bring that challenge with me?).  Interestingly, the bus dilemma is not confined to sped buses and there was a general email from the principal about it yesterday.  He admitted that the primary reason for the problem is not enough planning and he has an idea about what to do for next year. For the present, more parents are driving kids to school.  Just like West, Newton North sits in the middle of a suburban neighborhood and as such does not have the roads to support school drop off traffic.  Our 6 minute drive takes 20 and getting out of melee takes more. The buses will help.  I think Julia appreciates our time in the car.  High anxiety yesterday, a slightly lower level this morning. Continue reading

purpose

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Art by Duy Huynh

I open my eyes this morning knowing what I want to write about today.  Purpose. Considering that it has been weeks since I woke up wanted to write anything, I resolve to jump out of bed, leave everything, save the making of coffee, for later and start tapping at my keyboard.

However, before I sit and open the laptop, there is the cat to let in and feed, fans to move from bedrooms to kitchen and living room, the mouse trap in the kitchen cabinet to check (before Julia gets up) and the coffee to make with a few fleeting thoughts given to whether the papaya on the countertop is ripe.  Another few thoughts go to whether I text Cheshire before or after I write. Julia gets up and immediately turns on the tv and gets on her iPad.  She grabs a pop tart (unfrosted to ease my mother guilt) and says, good morning. I wrestle for more than a moment with the urge to engage with her and begin the enriching work of the day. Shouldn’t that be my sole purpose— To spend every waking moment purposely and actively engaged in Julia’s growth and maturity? Continue reading

the goo of ambiguity

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Freeform by Duy Huynh

Last night, I was watching a youtube video entitled “Understanding Spirited Away: Consumption and Identity.” The author, Margarita, describes herself as a lifelong cinephile with an MA in film and philosophy who make video essays.  Spirited Away, an animated film by Hayao Miyazaki, is one of my favorite movies and tells the story of a 10 year old girl whose parents are moving her to a new city just as she is moving from young childhood to girlhood.  I haven’t watched the whole movie in a long time but the first bars of the soundtrack can strike an emotional cord at any time.  In her video essay, Margarita highlights the liminality of the story and of course, that peeked my interest.  Continue reading

liminality

a3288989-70cb-4510-a4d7-ae7eed0af2a6.jpegAnother liminal stage of this unexpected life.  Ah, nothing like a perfect word.  (Thank you, Anne, for giving it to me.)

First note, when we moved to Madison twelve years ago, it was to be our permanent home.  David and I had given up an east coast replant and saw Madison as the just about perfect midwest place to be for-almost-ever.  Okay, there were the winters (100 inches of snow our first winter here) but other than that, it has been pretty perfect place for the three of us.  Continue reading

just today’s scribbles

So much change, so fast, none of it bad but all of it pushing over the edges of comfort.  I start and scribble and then leave it.  And then, change again, making what I scribbled about before irrelevant.  Compassion, especially for myself, is my current practice.  I need to go to the gym, pamper myself some, we need to go to the movies and indulge in ice cream.  I can understand Julia’s ups and downs; I need to understand my own.  

Julia, by the way, has good and bad days, needs to check every day that we are taking all of her books and stuffed toys, and that she will finish the school year at West High, but she is doing pretty splendidly.  

Right now, I am always tired.  Transition is exhausting. Continue reading

of big snow flakes and natal days

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More Aboriginal Art that I did not buy.  Next time!!

When I go to open the journal/blog file and it is not in the “most recent” list, I know for sure it has been too long.  My fingers ache with my scribbling deficiency but my head is stuffed with Earth Science facts, easy algebra and a lesson on loving myself from James Baraz.  

Lately, I have not been happy.  A bit overwhelmed and second guessing myself about my big decisions.  Dissatisfied and pining for a different life. This morning, life is good! Continue reading

2019 resolutions

Sarah-Kaufman-And-Then-There-Were-ThreeI make resolutions.  I have know people who have not approved of this habit, some pretty vocally.  And I still do it.  I like setting goals and I am not undone failing to reach them.  I’ve lived in Julia’s therapy world for a long time and when she does not meet a therapy goal set within the prescribed time, it is either carried on or modified.  So too, my resolutions.  Certainly, the resolution to consider or contemplate home which has been on my resolution list long before I began posting resolutions is a perfect example.  From the time I left NYC for the midwest, I’ve puzzled over the idea of home.  NYC was home.  Now, the pieces fit. Home is simply where the love is—family and friends and warm community.  Madison has been home, first because it was where David and I lived together and then because I was determined to reclaim life and be a part of the community.  Of course, I’ve known this intuitively for a long time—such a Dorothy moment.  And these days, my eyes are fixed on Boston as home, a home as precious and satisfying as Madison has been.   Continue reading

warming up. again.

BC8FA5F7-ED3A-4854-9098-537273D16D76I meant to write a few days after the last entry, again last week, again during the weekend. But I did not. Funny thing about that.  Not writing, that is.  Use it or lose it.  How many abilities, gifts, talents is that true for?  On a day like today, it feels like everything!  Today, the ability to catch a thought, to fashion a phrase and to punctuate is a labor like getting on the treadmill months after the last gym visit.  Use of imagination, like a good run, will take warming up for a few days.  Or weeks.  Continue reading

evolution

It was cold last night, only a few degrees colder than it was the night before.  At least, I think so.  And the thermostat was not set particularly low.  But we shivered through supper and homework.  Julia had had a moderately challenging day—she was late for study hall, her stomach hurt during reading and she still couldn’t present her earth science project due to some IT problem with her powerpoint.  She had math and earth science homework and a Death of a Salesman test to study for, and it was admittedly harder than usual to catch her attention. Once she was working, she was fine, though her processing speed slowed to a half crawl at times.  But we got through it all. She was incredibly tired which has become the new normal more than half her days.  I’m not sure if it is that without the ADHD meds, her body runs down sooner, or that she is exhausted from working harder to concentrate on any form of work throughout the day, or something else.   Continue reading