I got a 38 out of 40 on one paper (it was returned today) and turned the other two in. The paper for Abnormal Psych really psyched me out. I didn’t notice, until almost too late, that all my research articles needed to be peer-reviewed. Uh…none of them were. That was 3am yesterday. Then I realized,around 5pm tonight after finding 5 others, that they ALSO weren’t reviewed. I went with a book and one of the seminar articles but kept my list of long websites on the reference page. At least I turned it in. That’s half my battle sometimes...okay, most of the time!!! I got a 46 out of 50 on the first test, and this class only really has 3 items that are graded - midterm, final and paper. This is only my 3rd psych paper since returning to school, so I'm willing to accept the learning curve. :p
I'm not ready for Thanksgiving....wait, it's past.....I'm not ready for finals...they're in two weeks....I'm not ready for my birthday...that'll be in 2.5 weeks. Can we just start the year over? Guess that happens in a month, huh?
Someday I'll catch up with myself. I think I'll sleep then.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
The deliberate torture...
The college I'm attending starts registration for spring classes next week. It's deliberate torture, I tell you, and here's why - I'm just now finishing the second of three tests in one class, have 3 papers due in two weeks, finals are in a month...and they want me to start thinking about next semester?!?!?! Huh????
I did survive my Anthropology test, and feel I did well. I hope to work on the two papers Friday and Sunday (with Saturday devoted to my Abnormal Psych test, maybe - that's the class that's on the web so it's easier to fall behind!)
My dad seems to be continuing an uphill swing while Scott's dad continues to swing downward. At the same time, Timothy now has 7 phone numbers memorized - more than Hannah! This was his whim, not something we even encouraged, really. If I tell someone my cell phone number, he'll point to it on his paper, or say "That's mommy's number." He's an amazing child.
Hannah is also! She's doing so much better in first grade than she was in kindergarten. I think she likes school more, right now, too, which is good.
If you have the National Geographic Channel, keep your eyes open for the "ManMade" series and their show on "The South Pole Station." One of the evil people that comes to the South Pole at the end of the program is Scott. Look for the interesting sweaters! We still don't know if it will ever be on DVD, but we've watched it twice with family and friends.
I did survive my Anthropology test, and feel I did well. I hope to work on the two papers Friday and Sunday (with Saturday devoted to my Abnormal Psych test, maybe - that's the class that's on the web so it's easier to fall behind!)
My dad seems to be continuing an uphill swing while Scott's dad continues to swing downward. At the same time, Timothy now has 7 phone numbers memorized - more than Hannah! This was his whim, not something we even encouraged, really. If I tell someone my cell phone number, he'll point to it on his paper, or say "That's mommy's number." He's an amazing child.
Hannah is also! She's doing so much better in first grade than she was in kindergarten. I think she likes school more, right now, too, which is good.
If you have the National Geographic Channel, keep your eyes open for the "ManMade" series and their show on "The South Pole Station." One of the evil people that comes to the South Pole at the end of the program is Scott. Look for the interesting sweaters! We still don't know if it will ever be on DVD, but we've watched it twice with family and friends.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A moment of good...
My dad was released from the hospital Thursday evening. His surgery, last Friday, went well, and he has had a good and quick recovery. He is feeling better than he has for quite awhile, he said today. That's so good to hear.
Here in Alaska, the prognosis is not heading in a positive direction, yet, though the Assisted Living home owner/nurse is planning on talking with one of the doctor's about dad's medicine. He seems to be having too many side effects to the medicines, possibly. Continued prayers would be appreciated.
Overall, life is still stressful, yet good. I'm really enjoying the snowglobe with the butterfly net image still. It has really helped me feel more "in-control" of what I can do at the moment.
Glad to be able to share a moment of good news,
Here in Alaska, the prognosis is not heading in a positive direction, yet, though the Assisted Living home owner/nurse is planning on talking with one of the doctor's about dad's medicine. He seems to be having too many side effects to the medicines, possibly. Continued prayers would be appreciated.
Overall, life is still stressful, yet good. I'm really enjoying the snowglobe with the butterfly net image still. It has really helped me feel more "in-control" of what I can do at the moment.
Glad to be able to share a moment of good news,
Monday, October 15, 2007
Not so long ago...
As a new email this morning reminded me - "Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
(2 Cor. 12:8-10 NIV)
A moment to remember, and share, God’s provision. I felt very strongly that this visit with my parents in August was an important time to get professional pictures taken. It was August 26th when they were taken. Merlyn was hospitalized on September 8, and now we have my dad’s health taking a turn.
Here’s a picture from only a month and a half ago, really. Life is not how society says. We can’t live that way! Cherish each moment, and each person in your life, and remember that God with us, and His power is made perfect is our weakness.
Carrie
(2 Cor. 12:8-10 NIV)
A moment to remember, and share, God’s provision. I felt very strongly that this visit with my parents in August was an important time to get professional pictures taken. It was August 26th when they were taken. Merlyn was hospitalized on September 8, and now we have my dad’s health taking a turn.
Here’s a picture from only a month and a half ago, really. Life is not how society says. We can’t live that way! Cherish each moment, and each person in your life, and remember that God with us, and His power is made perfect is our weakness.
Carrie
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Time passages...
(thinking of the song from years back!)
We have two ailing grandpas in our family. I have written, a bit, about my husband's dad, but now my dad is in the hospital facing brain surgery for a blood clot in the frontal lobe.
waaaaaaaa.
They say "when it rains it pours." Whoever they are got the wrong rain phrase for what's happening at my place!!!!
Life, overall, seems pretty overwhelming. My image of life in general, right now, is having two boxes of 5000 piece puzzles thrown up into the air. The trick is, I'm also in a snowglobe that keeps shaking! Well, this week, the new portion of the "snowglobe" is an addition of a butterfly net. It's small, but it has really been instrumental in helping me feel a sense of "piece" (I meant peace, but that's how I spelled it! Really!) and "control" in the middle of the snowstorm. That's a good place to be.
We have two ailing grandpas in our family. I have written, a bit, about my husband's dad, but now my dad is in the hospital facing brain surgery for a blood clot in the frontal lobe.
waaaaaaaa.
They say "when it rains it pours." Whoever they are got the wrong rain phrase for what's happening at my place!!!!
Life, overall, seems pretty overwhelming. My image of life in general, right now, is having two boxes of 5000 piece puzzles thrown up into the air. The trick is, I'm also in a snowglobe that keeps shaking! Well, this week, the new portion of the "snowglobe" is an addition of a butterfly net. It's small, but it has really been instrumental in helping me feel a sense of "piece" (I meant peace, but that's how I spelled it! Really!) and "control" in the middle of the snowstorm. That's a good place to be.
the eating issue
Eating disorders are a complicated horrible subject to discuss with anyone, and even among a group that has the same issue, there are differening opinions.
As someone who struggles with anorexic tendencies and overeating tendencies, here’s my responsibility…to make a food plan (which I’m still trying to find) and feed myself appropriately. I cannot have trigger foods around me, and if I take the first bite, it’s a downhill spiral!!!!!
Food is alcohol for me. I can abstain and be a "dry drunk" (anorexic) or I can overeat and have the problems to show for it. Since I’m a tad overweight, which is mostly due to metabolism shutdown (starvation mode) from anorexia and med reactions, I do not look anorexic. My intake, most days, is between 500-1000 calories, which is not enough and impacts my diabetes. My m-i-l, within the last few months, asked me what was going on, and I was honest. When I told her that much, she said, “Well, but then you overeat, based on your size.” I wanted to implode! I’m surrounded by people who just don’t get it, and that's just where things are.
I cannot explain my thinking or eating patterns to anyone, truly, but God. I am struggling to find an OA sponsor, and to find a food plan that I can legitimately make work with our food allergies and my illnesses, but I am stuck. It’s a hard place to be. I had a therapist visit this week where I felt heard yet invalidated. Not exactly a fair space to be in!
As far as definitions, I have to believe myself. I cannot go to someone else for validation. I have to be mindful – in the moment – when I eat, or it will not be reasonable. No one really considers me anorexic, or an overeater. Every professional in my life says I have an eating disorder. Period. That’s the truth! I keep telling myself that when my stress is lower it will be easier…that’s bunk!!!!! It’s been 23 years since my anorexia started, and the time to do what I can is today. I can’t change my thinking, but I can have one thing for breakfast and take my blood sugar.
One of the next blogs, probably, will be about my dads. Stress is pretty high around our houses right now, and will be for awhile, potentially. That doesn't help the eating issues, either.
Glad for this venue to vent.
As someone who struggles with anorexic tendencies and overeating tendencies, here’s my responsibility…to make a food plan (which I’m still trying to find) and feed myself appropriately. I cannot have trigger foods around me, and if I take the first bite, it’s a downhill spiral!!!!!
Food is alcohol for me. I can abstain and be a "dry drunk" (anorexic) or I can overeat and have the problems to show for it. Since I’m a tad overweight, which is mostly due to metabolism shutdown (starvation mode) from anorexia and med reactions, I do not look anorexic. My intake, most days, is between 500-1000 calories, which is not enough and impacts my diabetes. My m-i-l, within the last few months, asked me what was going on, and I was honest. When I told her that much, she said, “Well, but then you overeat, based on your size.” I wanted to implode! I’m surrounded by people who just don’t get it, and that's just where things are.
I cannot explain my thinking or eating patterns to anyone, truly, but God. I am struggling to find an OA sponsor, and to find a food plan that I can legitimately make work with our food allergies and my illnesses, but I am stuck. It’s a hard place to be. I had a therapist visit this week where I felt heard yet invalidated. Not exactly a fair space to be in!
As far as definitions, I have to believe myself. I cannot go to someone else for validation. I have to be mindful – in the moment – when I eat, or it will not be reasonable. No one really considers me anorexic, or an overeater. Every professional in my life says I have an eating disorder. Period. That’s the truth! I keep telling myself that when my stress is lower it will be easier…that’s bunk!!!!! It’s been 23 years since my anorexia started, and the time to do what I can is today. I can’t change my thinking, but I can have one thing for breakfast and take my blood sugar.
One of the next blogs, probably, will be about my dads. Stress is pretty high around our houses right now, and will be for awhile, potentially. That doesn't help the eating issues, either.
Glad for this venue to vent.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
The journey of the toileting toddler...
disclaimer to young moms - read ahead with awareness that not all families have multiple problems in this area. We are blessed, some would say. I personally feel cursed.
Timothy, before August, was never attached, really, to anything. Then Grandma and Grandpa brought mommy's Curious George to Alaska. Timothy's new best friend was Curious George, and George has gone everywhere that Timothy was going! Well, this week, Timothy found a new "attachment". Scott started working with him on our phone numbers and address this week - just because the teachable moment seemed to be there. He's mastered 'em, and not only that, but when I wrote them down, he was so pleased that they are now his "replacement" for Curious George. George is still on the bed, or nearby, but he needs George [i]and[/i] his phone numbers.
Let me start on Friday. He had so much urine in him that the pullup did not hold it. I was so mad. I asked him, as I frequently do, "Timothy, where do we go potty?" "In the toilet," he answered. He was wet from waist to ankle. A kind mom from Hannah's class happened to have two extra pairs of pants in her car - in the give away box. The child in the class is a girl, but they found a pair of black legging-ish pants and some Land's End Jeans. We went for the jeans. Mommy was NOT happy. I felt like an evil mommy for making him walk into the school in the wet pants, especially with how cold it was, but I also refused to carry him. He thanked me by screaming all the way to the reasonably sized toilet in the teacher's lounge.
About three hours later, he deliberately went poop in his pants. While I was watching. I was LIVID. "What are you doing?" I tried not to break my teeth while gritting them. He pointed to his bottom. I pointed (forcefully) to the bathroom. He stood up and went there. This time, I made him take the poop, with toilet paper, and put it into the toilet. (and tried, personally, not to retch on him or the floor in my own nauseousness!) The next part of the conversation went as follows - "Timothy, where do we go potty and poop?" "In the toilet." "Where did you go poop?" "In my pants." "Timothy, you're going to get a spank this time." "On my hand." "No, your hand is not what decided to not go poop in the toilet." He giggled, and 'accepted' his swat.
Today. ugh. I had about 7 hours of very interrupted sleep followed by driving to Eagle River and sitting at a craft bazaar till this afternoon. When I arrived home, I was greeted by a warm hug from my husband and a nice dinner... which was interrupted by a child who needed me to hold her hand in the bathroom. She ended up [i]asking[/i] for a suppository (EEEEEEWWWWW!) I was willing to comply, and did, screaming internally as I did. We had a pleasant conversation and I only made her wait five minutes before encouraging her to sit down again (not that I felt like going back to my dinner anymore, but I was famished!!!) I get back to the table, finally, and am greeted by a little boy pretending to burp. I don't know why. Body noises are rampant at our house, currently. Then he said, "Say Eeeeewww, mommy. Tell me I stink." I looked at him with my eyes above my glasses. "You didn't!" "Yes, I went poop in my pants." "Then I'm going to cry," I said, and literally thought the tears would roll! "And I will hold my ears while you cry!" "Timothy, I will cry quietly. I'm very sad and mad that you chose to go poop in your pants again." He covered his ears, then went to his room. I followed him and told him that he would be losing his numbers [b][i]and[/i][/i] George, and that he would not get George back until after school on Monday. I took his arm, and led him to the bathroom, put the pullup in the diaper pail and went downstairs to trade places with daddy (who was now reading a bedtime story to Hannah.) He encouraged me not to trade, but that he would take care of Timothy in a minute.
I walked back upstairs and went into the bathroom. Timothy reminded me that I said he'd get George back since he'd gone potty. I told him today was Saturday, tomorrow was Sunday, and the day after [i]that[/i] was when he'd get George back. If, and I mean if, he goes to the bathroom tomorrow, he might earn the numbers back. Timothy said he wanted a hand spank instead of a bottom spank (and I'm normally not a spanker at all!), and his hand got sad for not getting spanked. (of all things!!!!) Then he went in our room to ask for George. About that time, Scott came upstairs, and heard mommy say something about not getting George or his numbers back. Scott's lips did an "o" and he said "mommy's MAD!" He agreed with me, though, and I feel like an evil minion for depriving my child of a stupid piece of paper and his favorite animal, but what am I supposed to do here!?!?!?!?! He does NOT mind being wet, he [i]does[i/] supposedly understand the process, but there's a real disconnect here, and I'm tired of this. grrrr. I am really not wanting this in the midst of everything else, right now, but it's where we are. I just needed to vent, and am glad I can.
end of diatribe (for now)
Timothy, before August, was never attached, really, to anything. Then Grandma and Grandpa brought mommy's Curious George to Alaska. Timothy's new best friend was Curious George, and George has gone everywhere that Timothy was going! Well, this week, Timothy found a new "attachment". Scott started working with him on our phone numbers and address this week - just because the teachable moment seemed to be there. He's mastered 'em, and not only that, but when I wrote them down, he was so pleased that they are now his "replacement" for Curious George. George is still on the bed, or nearby, but he needs George [i]and[/i] his phone numbers.
Let me start on Friday. He had so much urine in him that the pullup did not hold it. I was so mad. I asked him, as I frequently do, "Timothy, where do we go potty?" "In the toilet," he answered. He was wet from waist to ankle. A kind mom from Hannah's class happened to have two extra pairs of pants in her car - in the give away box. The child in the class is a girl, but they found a pair of black legging-ish pants and some Land's End Jeans. We went for the jeans. Mommy was NOT happy. I felt like an evil mommy for making him walk into the school in the wet pants, especially with how cold it was, but I also refused to carry him. He thanked me by screaming all the way to the reasonably sized toilet in the teacher's lounge.
About three hours later, he deliberately went poop in his pants. While I was watching. I was LIVID. "What are you doing?" I tried not to break my teeth while gritting them. He pointed to his bottom. I pointed (forcefully) to the bathroom. He stood up and went there. This time, I made him take the poop, with toilet paper, and put it into the toilet. (and tried, personally, not to retch on him or the floor in my own nauseousness!) The next part of the conversation went as follows - "Timothy, where do we go potty and poop?" "In the toilet." "Where did you go poop?" "In my pants." "Timothy, you're going to get a spank this time." "On my hand." "No, your hand is not what decided to not go poop in the toilet." He giggled, and 'accepted' his swat.
Today. ugh. I had about 7 hours of very interrupted sleep followed by driving to Eagle River and sitting at a craft bazaar till this afternoon. When I arrived home, I was greeted by a warm hug from my husband and a nice dinner... which was interrupted by a child who needed me to hold her hand in the bathroom. She ended up [i]asking[/i] for a suppository (EEEEEEWWWWW!) I was willing to comply, and did, screaming internally as I did. We had a pleasant conversation and I only made her wait five minutes before encouraging her to sit down again (not that I felt like going back to my dinner anymore, but I was famished!!!) I get back to the table, finally, and am greeted by a little boy pretending to burp. I don't know why. Body noises are rampant at our house, currently. Then he said, "Say Eeeeewww, mommy. Tell me I stink." I looked at him with my eyes above my glasses. "You didn't!" "Yes, I went poop in my pants." "Then I'm going to cry," I said, and literally thought the tears would roll! "And I will hold my ears while you cry!" "Timothy, I will cry quietly. I'm very sad and mad that you chose to go poop in your pants again." He covered his ears, then went to his room. I followed him and told him that he would be losing his numbers [b][i]and[/i][/i] George, and that he would not get George back until after school on Monday. I took his arm, and led him to the bathroom, put the pullup in the diaper pail and went downstairs to trade places with daddy (who was now reading a bedtime story to Hannah.) He encouraged me not to trade, but that he would take care of Timothy in a minute.
I walked back upstairs and went into the bathroom. Timothy reminded me that I said he'd get George back since he'd gone potty. I told him today was Saturday, tomorrow was Sunday, and the day after [i]that[/i] was when he'd get George back. If, and I mean if, he goes to the bathroom tomorrow, he might earn the numbers back. Timothy said he wanted a hand spank instead of a bottom spank (and I'm normally not a spanker at all!), and his hand got sad for not getting spanked. (of all things!!!!) Then he went in our room to ask for George. About that time, Scott came upstairs, and heard mommy say something about not getting George or his numbers back. Scott's lips did an "o" and he said "mommy's MAD!" He agreed with me, though, and I feel like an evil minion for depriving my child of a stupid piece of paper and his favorite animal, but what am I supposed to do here!?!?!?!?! He does NOT mind being wet, he [i]does[i/] supposedly understand the process, but there's a real disconnect here, and I'm tired of this. grrrr. I am really not wanting this in the midst of everything else, right now, but it's where we are. I just needed to vent, and am glad I can.
end of diatribe (for now)
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Autumn and the fading colors...
Autumn is one of my favorite times of year, usually, but this year is particularly difficult.
I've always loved the fall leaves, and have always enjoyed taking time to drive through areas where the leaves change. Growing up in the mountains of Colorado, there were numerous paths we could take, and so many trees that were painting the scenery in a lush and surreal tapestry of colors. I still feel amazed as I drive into an area that has green, gold, yellow and red at the same time. It's inspiring and restful and sad. The sad is where I am this evening.
As someone with a melancholic personality, prone towards sadness and depression even, it can be difficult to deal with life changes. I was reading another blog about being part of the sandwich generation, and I tell ya, I do NOT like being the ham and cheese in the middle!
My father-in-love is now in an assisted living home as of last week. He has dementia (probably Alzheimer's) and some days knows us, but some days doesn't. He's also been dealing with possible seizures (which looked like a stroke.) It's so hard to see this wonderful man fade in such a horrible way, yet there's nothing that can be done. In the meantime, my 3.5 year old is asking me to draw 3 digit numbers that he can trace, learning essentially 3 languages, and wowing pretty much everyone he meets. It's a wonderful dichotomy of spring and fall - one life shooting into the atmosphere as another begins to wobble and descend. Just a month ago, thankfully, we had pictures taken of all four grandparents with the grandchildren. We have a picture to remember of the sandwich that is....with all its various flavors and tastes and colors.
Right now, I just want to rest. I want to hibernate. I want time to process the changes happening with dad and spend some time grieving the grandparent my children will not know - the brilliant man that is slowly fading from our view. I also want to spend every waking moment with my brilliant children who seem to radiate each grandfathers' love of learning and knowledge. It's such a strange place to be - right in the middle of life and death with the understanding that both are part of the life cycle, and in particular, my life cycle at the moment.
A particularly wonderful irony of my time right now is my class this fall - abnormal psychology. I had the wonderful opportunity to pay the university to learn more about dementia and bipolar and depression and various other stuff that I live with already, but can always stand to learn a little more about. :) Thankfully, it's one of my bright spots within the weeks.
I've always loved the fall leaves, and have always enjoyed taking time to drive through areas where the leaves change. Growing up in the mountains of Colorado, there were numerous paths we could take, and so many trees that were painting the scenery in a lush and surreal tapestry of colors. I still feel amazed as I drive into an area that has green, gold, yellow and red at the same time. It's inspiring and restful and sad. The sad is where I am this evening.
As someone with a melancholic personality, prone towards sadness and depression even, it can be difficult to deal with life changes. I was reading another blog about being part of the sandwich generation, and I tell ya, I do NOT like being the ham and cheese in the middle!
My father-in-love is now in an assisted living home as of last week. He has dementia (probably Alzheimer's) and some days knows us, but some days doesn't. He's also been dealing with possible seizures (which looked like a stroke.) It's so hard to see this wonderful man fade in such a horrible way, yet there's nothing that can be done. In the meantime, my 3.5 year old is asking me to draw 3 digit numbers that he can trace, learning essentially 3 languages, and wowing pretty much everyone he meets. It's a wonderful dichotomy of spring and fall - one life shooting into the atmosphere as another begins to wobble and descend. Just a month ago, thankfully, we had pictures taken of all four grandparents with the grandchildren. We have a picture to remember of the sandwich that is....with all its various flavors and tastes and colors.
Right now, I just want to rest. I want to hibernate. I want time to process the changes happening with dad and spend some time grieving the grandparent my children will not know - the brilliant man that is slowly fading from our view. I also want to spend every waking moment with my brilliant children who seem to radiate each grandfathers' love of learning and knowledge. It's such a strange place to be - right in the middle of life and death with the understanding that both are part of the life cycle, and in particular, my life cycle at the moment.
A particularly wonderful irony of my time right now is my class this fall - abnormal psychology. I had the wonderful opportunity to pay the university to learn more about dementia and bipolar and depression and various other stuff that I live with already, but can always stand to learn a little more about. :) Thankfully, it's one of my bright spots within the weeks.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
As summer fades...
I've been doing more scrapbooking, and am discovering that I like the "mini-scrapbook options available on the web every so often. I put this together this early morning as a gratitude of my kiddos and the smiles they have.
Walking through life is hard enough, but put depression and small children together and it's just not pretty some days. I'm so lucky to have been given the family I have, and we're making it through. Thank you for sharing a moment of the journey with us.
Walking through life is hard enough, but put depression and small children together and it's just not pretty some days. I'm so lucky to have been given the family I have, and we're making it through. Thank you for sharing a moment of the journey with us.
  |   |
Monday, July 30, 2007
Putting myself out there...
As a mom and a music teacher, sometimes I lose sight of myself and where I am on my journey. Unfortunately, part of my journey has been a long battle with depression and I've been hunting (and pecking!) for a way to help myself with that. Rather than journaling here or there on the various "spaces" I have out there, I jumped into the water here today and created not one, but two blogs for myself. The other is specifically to get myself thinking and writing about my teaching styles and ideas to solidify what I believe, why I believe it and just to share my musical journey too. There's no way to say how often I'll blog, but I hope to make it a healthy and enjoyable effort.
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for reading.
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