The Artist's Brain

This morning I attended a Relief Society activity that taught art therapy as a form of self-care. I went because my friend was teaching it and because I'm a social creature. But I was anxious.

Confession: creating visual art is not relaxing for me.

I've never been a doodler. The few painting classes I've attended end up being stressful. I cannot for the life of me figure out water coloring. I hear it's super easy, but I feel like a kindergartener among college level artists when I try. I love to look at art, I appreciate what others do, but I don't enjoy doing it myself. My hands feel awkward and clunky, like the hand-eye coordination required to make something pretty skipped me.  I don't even like coloring.

I planned to keep all of this inside my head. I just wanted to support my friend.

But somehow I let all these feelings come out of my mouth. I was lighthearted in the way that I said it, but I still said that I didn't enjoy the very joyful activity that she was sharing. And I felt pretty lousy about that. However, my oversharing of my insecurities actually led to a great conversation and I left with some soul searching questions about why I feel this way.

I've thought about it for most of the day.

I think part of the issue is that so much of my brain is used for cleaning up after other people, the mess required for visual creativity is not appealing to me. Sometimes I simply don't have the energy, or the time, or the mental space. I make so many decisions for other people all day long, I don't want to make any artistic decisions. And yet I built bookcases and paint the walls of my house. I know those are creative, but they feel more functional. I'm talking about art for art's sake.

I wonder why writing and music and theatre, all incredibly creative and artistic pursuits, don't scare me the way drawing a picture does. Rather, they fill my soul.

This reminds me of my feelings about the color pink. I used to hate the color pink. I mean HATE it. And then almost sixteen years ago we found out we were expecting a baby girl and I was hit with the realization that she might love the color pink, and of course I would want to support her in that. So I had to untangle why I hated pink. It turned out there was a lot to unpack and it took a few years to realize I don't hate pink, I just really disliked the connotations my brain had connected to pink.

I wonder if creating visual art falls into that category for me. Perhaps it's not the art itself, but all my feelings that are connected to it. Maybe it has more to do with my recovering perfectionism, I don't know how to make messy, terrible, in-process art, so I don't make it at all. Maybe I'm wound so tight from everything else I have going on that I can't let my brain relax enough to let it be a peaceful activity. Maybe my constant need to be productive to prove my worth keeps me from sitting and creating. Maybe the brain fog that threatens to follow me wherever I go makes the thought of learning a new skill exhausting.

Maybe I'm not going to solve this in one day.

I know the purpose of the activity was to relax and make something creative. I did participate and I made the art project. But I think the therapy portion of the art therapy session went a lot deeper than I was expecting.

And I think that's a good thing.

If I Only Had a Brain

I haven't written much (or at all?) about my autoimmune disorder. Most of the time I kind of pretend like it doesn't exist. I take some medicine for it first thing in the morning, can't eat dairy until four hours later, and have had to become (mostly) gluten free. Those are the things I deal with daily. They're annoying, but manageable. I'm aware of the symptoms, but, when my medicine is at the correct dose, they're also annoyances. Yeah I'm cold and my skin is really dry, but I can wear slippers and a jacket in my house and apply extra lotion.

But sometimes it shows up more than I'd like. When I've overworked myself and neglected the basics of caring for myself (regular exercise and sleep), the disorder arrives in force. These are called flares. I've been in a flare for most of the last week. 

Profound exhaustion is one of the symptoms that sent me to the doctor initially and led to the diagnosis. I've had to nap nearly every day this week to try to counter the feeling of my head being too heavy to hold up and the realization that I probably shouldn't be driving. I thought I was feeling better yesterday because I didn't need a nap, but today proved otherwise. And I do feel silly complaining about needing to nap. Naps seem like they should be a luxury, a welcome activity. But when they're a necessity and keep you from other things that need to get done, they're not as fun.

I think the worst symptom this time has been the brain fog. My thoughts are sluggish and difficult to put into words. It kind of feels like the hangover I get after a migraine; thinking hurts for about a day. I was thankful this week that the kids provided enough blog material because I couldn't have come up with anything on my own.

Bryan is amazing and encourages me to rest when I need to. He picks up the slack, and there's a lot of slack when flares hit. I am not so good about resting. I've trained myself to constantly be productive and lying in bed with no energy feels more like torture than rejuvenation. Bryan reminds me that rest is productive, but I struggle to convince myself of that.

The good news for tonight is that the brain fog has cleared enough for me to write this post. Maybe the other symptoms will begin to calm down as well.

Full Speed Ahead

You know those days where you seem to be running at top speed and there's little time for anything else? I've had a few weeks like that. I'm looking forward to our Easter long weekend (our spring break was eaten up by snow days) and maybe a chance to rest. Maybe.

Breathe In

Sophie finished her second round of antibiotics over a week ago. She seemed to be getting better. Then yesterday during dinner she started coughing again. It continued through the evening until she went to sleep. She woke us up around one in the morning because she was coughing and having trouble breathing and couldn't sleep. I gave her cough medicine and sent her back to bed. She came in again two hours later, this time wheezing and panicked that she couldn't breathe.

That's what prompted us to spend a few hours in the ER in the early hours of the morning. It was dark when we arrived. They took her back right away and put her in a room. A doctor came to look at her, they ordered a chest x-ray, then swabbed her for strep throat, RSV, the flu, and COVID. She said they would likely give her an inhaler to help her breathe.

Then we waited.

They did the x-ray.

And we waited.

And watched the Disney Channel.

And waited.

And waited.

The doctor finally came back and said she had tested negative for strep and the x-ray looked clear. I thought they would offer a breathing treatment. But they didn't. Other than running tests, they didn't do anything. They didn't treat her at all. In fact, they decided to send her home before any of the other tests were done, they would call with the results.

I was surprised and frustrated that they weren't going to help her at all. They said since the other possibilities were all viruses nothing could be done. I asked about the inhaler and was told that they didn't want to give her an inhaler because that would show up on her medical record. That might cause a doctor in the future to think she has asthma and misdiagnose her or misread her symptoms. I told the doctor that some of my other children had been given inhalers for isolated illnesses and hadn't had the problem she described. She was apologetic and I discovered that she had been overridden by her supervising doctor who had only seen Sophie for about a minute.

The sun was up when we drove home. She and I were both sad and frustrated at the lack of help.

They never called back with any test results.

We'll see how tonight goes.

Sooooo Close

Here we are again, limping our way to the end of the schoolyear. I'm ready to put aside the role of taskmaster (at least regarding school). The kids in school are ready to be done with assignments. Topher is ready to have siblings that have time to play with him again. Peter has one week left, the others have two.

We can do it.

I'm pretty sure we can do it.

I really hope we can do it.

Oh the Weather Outside Is Frightful

The insanely cold weather that's been sweeping the nation has finally reached us. Bryan put tape around the edges of one of our back doors to help keep the chill at bay. The tape froze, on the inside of the house. It's currently 4 degrees outside with a windchill of -16 degrees. That's crazy cold.

I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and are able to stay warm!

O Holy Night

I'm still serving as the choir director in my church congregation. For the last two months I've been organizing an interfaith Christmas concert with a local Lutheran congregation. The person in charge of music in our ward has a demanding job, so most of the planning has fallen to me. Thankfully other people volunteered to oversee the decorations, refreshments, and the printed program. That's left me with the music, narration, and related logistical matters. Oh, and directing our choir for three of the numbers and overseeing three others, plus two congregational hymns. A friend stepped in to organize rehearsals for the two small group numbers, which freed me up to drop in and give feedback, which is my favorite part of the job. I've loved getting to stretch my creative muscles, but it's been a time consuming process.

The concert is this coming Sunday evening. I would appreciate any prayers and positive thoughts you can send our way, because we'll need them.

Furry Friend

Do you ever have those days where you discover that some of your kids think you are responsible for their homework and chores? And that they aren't responsible for getting those things done? Yeah, those aren't my favorite days.

In happier, unrelated news, Topher got to live out his dream of having a dog for about an hour this afternoon. He loved it. I think the dog loved it too.

'Twas the Night Before People

Today a friend sent me a text that said, in part, "Day of Freedom Eve is here!" The day we've been counting down to for two and a half years is tomorrow. Topher will finally be fully vaccinated and we will rejoin society.

And I'm not sure how I feel.

We've all missed:

• people
• especially family
• in-person church that doesn't lag or skip
• visiting the Temple
• participating in extracurricular activities
• handshakes and hugs with people that don't live in our house
• staying at parks, even when other people show up
• libraries
• museums
• adventures
• traveling
• going inside other people's homes
• inviting other people into our home
• fully serving in our church callings
• many other things that have happened over the last two and a half years that we've had to skip

All of that was hard. But now that it's time to go back, I'm anxious. Will we remember how to interact with other people? Will we remember how to carry on conversations with people that don't know our particular shorthand? How long will it take for someone to bring COVID home? Are we prepared for that? Am I ready to be crazy busy again? Am I ready for the influence of the kids' friends to suddenly be much louder and stronger? Have we done enough to prepare Topher for how to behave in church? Will I suddenly be called to serve in the Primary as his shadow to help him be calm and reverent?

There are so many more concerns floating through my brain. At the same time, I'm giddy to be back in person. Our reentry celebration tomorrow consists of Peter and Cooper attending seminary in person, me taking Topher and anyone else who is caught up on school to a park that is never totally empty so we haven't been since the pandemic hit, and taking the three older kids to YW/YM tomorrow night inside the church building. On Thursday I might even take the kids to the library.

That would be wild.

Homebodies

Remember last Friday when I wrote about all the parks we'd been to? Want to know how many parks we visited this week?

Zero.

None.

Zip.

On Tuesday we drove to a friend's house to pick up some extra produce she had. When I pulled out of our garage the van felt like it was driving a little funny. I even got out of the car to check the tires. On the way home from our errand the van began to feel less responsive, then the check engine light came on. I pulled over to check the manual to make sure I was okay to keep driving, then prayed and willed us home as the van became more and more unresponsive. It was an exciting six minute trip.

So now the van isn't working and the shop can't get us in until the week after next. Bryan's car is fine, but it only fits five. It's tricky to get to the park when we can't all fit in the available vehicle. So we stayed at home. We played in the backyard and went on walks, so we still got outside, just not to any parks.

If we had realized we would be stuck at home for the foreseeable future, we probably would have found even more parks to visit last week.

Awake

A few nights ago I was asked about my sleep habits. I said I don't get much sleep, and that I have trouble falling asleep, but I'm pretty good at staying asleep.

That was dumb, I should not have said that.

On Sunday night Topher reminded me that he often will wake up in the middle of the night because he wants to snuggle. And then sometimes it takes him a long time to go back to sleep. Monday was a long day because of our middle of the night hangout.

On Monday night I was in bed by 10:32, the earliest I've gone to bed in ages. I stayed awake for awhile, but I think I finally drifted off. I think. Maybe. Around 2:00 in the morning I was wide awake (even before Topher called to snuggle) and not very rested. I was a very grumpy human. And I stayed awake until 7:00 in the morning. It was not a pleasant experience. When Sophie and Topher woke up I invited them to eat bagels while sitting on my bedroom floor and watching cartoons on a phone. Maybe I've trained myself to only sleep while Paw Patrol is playing quietly in the background?

Today has also been a looooong day. Bryan and the kids keep asking me what's wrong. My answer has consistently been, "I'm really tired." I guess I make weird faces when I'm crazy exhausted.

Here's to hopefully sleeping tonight.

Returned

I've got a backlog of books that I've been listening to recently. I've burned through a few series (Phoebe wanted new recommendations, so I tried them out first), read an excellent book about personal revelation, and am looking forward to those in my queue. I always love adding another title to my ever growing list of books.

Something I don't love? Dedicating time to a book and having to stop partway. Usually I have a good sense if a book is going to cross my appropriateness threshold soon after I start reading. Occasionally one slips through. Last night I had to stop reading a book after I was more than halfway through. And I was annoyed. I didn't think the story was well served by the addition of material that made me blush and say out loud, "Nope" while I returned it to the library. I'm mostly annoyed that I gave almost three hours (listening to the book at double speed) to a book that I'm not going to finish. But I'd rather return it than add that kind of material to my brain.

Oh well, on to the next one.

Getting Some Zzzs

It's been a long time since I was well rested, so I've decided to make sleep a priority. I got a whole eight hours of sleep last night, after a two hour nap on Monday and another long nap on Sunday. This morning when I woke up I remembered that sleep is miraculous. Seriously, I could feel this great everyday. All I need to do is convince my children to go to sleep early, sleep all the way through the night, and not wake up early.

Yeah, I can totally do that.

Coolsville

I keep thinking about the heat of last June. When the AC stopped working we pulled out all our fans and borrowed even more. We would open the windows each morning and position fans in front of them to draw in the cool morning air, then shut them once it got too hot. The temperature inside the house during the afternoon was often in the mid-to-high 80s, sometimes higher. Then later in the day, usually while I made dinner in a sweltering kitchen, we would open the windows back up and let the hot but flowing air back in. We were sweaty almost all the time. It was miserable.

This summer we have a fully functioning AC, it's lovely. Also this summer? The temperature has been moderate. We've had a handful of hot days, but most often we keep the windows open all day and the house stays between 75 and 78, which is just about perfect for me. We haven't really needed the AC this month.

I suppose if we hadn't gone through the melting torture of last June we wouldn't be so thankful for the cool breezes and optional air conditioning available to us this summer.

What Is In My Brain

Kids are hard.

That is all.

The Countdown

A perk of our cyber school is that, for the first time since we moved to Pennsylvania, we have an actual spring break. For the entire week before Easter and the Monday after, we have no school. I am unreasonably excited about it.

Let me be clear, we're still staying home. We have no big plans, no fun places to go, no people to see. But, my oh my, I am looking forward to the rest from schoolwork.

Maybe it's because we're so close to the break, maybe it's because we're still adjusting to the time change, maybe it's because it's officially spring and we've got cabin fever (despite all the walks we've taken), but the first two days of this week have felt so long. Sooooo long. Getting through school for a few of the kids has required much more work from me than usual.

Just a few more days...

My Brain Hurts

We made it through the first day.

We got up reasonably early at 7am, though much too late if we'd been rushing to catch the bus. I made blueberry muffins and we turned on the computers around 9:30. The first two days are called Onboarding, they're all about how to use the software that the school uses for assignments and assessments. I read that it would be good for me to sit with each child and watch all the tutorials with them.

This did not happen.

After getting everyone set up and realizing that there simply weren't enough hours in the day, I let the older three work independently (except for the occasional question) while I sat with Sophie. And by sat with, I really mean ran around chasing Topher while listening to the instructional videos and coming back to read whatever wasn't in video format. She's a strong enough reader that she could read most of it, but there were a few words that she needed help with.

Topher seemed extra energetic today, probably because I couldn't shadow him like usual. He made it all the way upstairs twice today. I don't think that's ever happened before. Both times I found him snuggled in Peter's bed, surrounded by stuffed animals. I think he was out of my sight for maybe thirty seconds? That kid is fast.

From all the research I've done, once this onboarding is done, school will be much more fun. I sure hope so.

The Final Month of the Year

I told someone recently that we're essentially done with our Christmas shopping and that I have several gifts wrapped and under the tree. It came off as bragging. I quickly explained that I wasn't boasting about how prepared we are. Nope, I was trying to reassure myself that it's okay that I have a ridiculous amount of stuff to do this month because at least that one thing is done.

December is trying to swallow me whole.

That is all.

Running

This week has been, well, crazy. It's the busiest week we've had in my recent memory. Each afternoon, Monday through Thursday, has been full of driving and doing. Tomorrow won't be any different. I'm glad that we're giving the kids the chance to participate in these activities, but I'm glad that they have an end date.

On a related matter, I'm glad that my kids eat leftovers, even when they don't want to.

The Melting Point of Sophie

Today Sophie threw a tantrum in Walmart. No, that's not true. Today Sophie threw several tantrums in Walmart. It was the first time we'd been to that store in ages. Before we left the house she asked if she could have one of the small, fifty cent cakes from the bakery. She even attached the caveat that she had to be well behaved to earn it. I agreed.

She did pretty well for the first half of the trip. She stayed with me better than usual and didn't demand to visit the public restroom when she didn't actually need to go. (Does anyone else have kids that prefer public bathrooms to those at home? Peter was the same way at her age.)

Then her good choices began to be outpaced by poor choices. I chose mercy and did my best to redirect and remind her of our deal. Finally, with her cinnamon cake in hand, we headed to the registers.

And that's when Sophie's world unraveled.

Because of long lines, we often go to the self checkout at Walmart. But our store recently installed two huge banks of self checkouts, thus freeing up space in the regular lines. I decided to go old school and have someone other than me ring up our purchases. Apparently Sophie really had her heart set on the other registers. This was the start of the first big tantrum. She plopped onto the floor, imploring me to go to the other register, then demanding.

I listened while loading our items onto the conveyor belt. I was watching Sophie and Topher out of the corner of my eye. I saw Sophie walk up to Topher as he sat in the shopping cart. Then I heard Topher cry out in pain.

I looked at Sophie and caught her "Oh that? No, that wasn't me. I didn't do anything wrong." facial expression. Then her eyes widened in realization and she hid her cake box inside her coat. I walked over and gently (or as gently as I could and still wrestle it from her tight grip) pulled the treat away from her. I handed it to the cashier and said we wouldn't be buying that.

That's when the next tantrum started.

This one was much bigger, much louder, had much higher stakes. She begged and pleaded. She squeezed Topher's feet (probably the same thing she'd done initially to make him cry out) in bursts of anger, she threatened. As I tried to pay she got between me and the counter and informed me, tears in her eyes, "Mom, if you don't give me my cake back I won't be your daughter anymore."

I assured her she would always be my daughter, no matter if she threw a tantrum or if I gave her the cake.

During this whole episode the woman ringing up our groceries made little eye contact with me. I was calm and kind to Sophie, but I didn't give in and I worried about the scene we were making. As we finished our transaction I took the receipt, said thank you, and started to walk away. Sophie refused to follow me. She stood at the end of the lane with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, glaring. That's when I heard the cashier call me back.

"Oh, ma'am!"

I turned to her. "You forgot your pasta." She handed me a neglected grocery sack.

"Oh," I responded, "thanks. I thought you were going to say 'You forgot your five-year-old."

That's when several of the women around me burst out laughing. The two women behind me commented on how patient I was being. Another cashier commended me for not giving in. I was so relieved that they hadn't been angry or upset by the show they were witnessing.

Maybe it was that relief that helped me through the next bit when Sophie actually dropped to her belly, grabbed my ankle, cried, and refused to walk. So I slowly pushed the cart toward the door, dragging Sophie with me as I went. Maybe I should have been upset, and I had been frustrated, but the absurdity of the moment was simply too much. I laughed. Then I pulled out my phone and told her I was going to take a picture to share with Bryan.

In case you were curious, Sophie does not like documentation of her naughtiness. She jumped up and around the corner of a display. A nice employee offered to push the cart while I carried Sophie out to the car. We got as far as the online pickup window. Then it took another ten minutes of tantrum until we (sans employee) got out to the car. Then another twelve minutes (after the cart was unloaded and I was in my seat) for her to buckle in.

As we drove home I explained that she lost the cake when she hurt Topher. I told her it's fine to be mad, it's totally okay to disagree with me and to use her words to tell me so, but it is never alright to hurt someone, no matter how mad or disappointed you feel.

And you know what? We made it home. She calmed down. We had other infractions throughout the day, but we finally made it to bedtime and she fell asleep quickly. I'm so glad I kept my cool and handled the situation the way I did.

But it may a while before we go back to Walmart.