Foul Mood

Man, have I been in a foul mood the last few days. DH is bearing it like a true saint of the latter-day variety, and little boy seems mostly oblivious except that he sometimes melts down, too.

My therapist thinks it's the stress of adapting to a new job and not using my meds as religiously as I should. I agree, and think it's all complicated by being on my period and having so many things happening in my life that I feel like I can't control. I've probably bit off more than I can chew with taking a class this semester and taking tai chi, too.

I have wished more than once in the last few days that I could just start drinking again.

Not Ready for Prime Time?

Little Boy is a little boy. He is a young five-and-one-half year-old. He's somewhat immature; still given to occasional meltdowns over minor things. He is very bright, but not confident. His coping skills are not well developed. He is likely to freak out over a broken pencil, rather than just getting another one.

This information was definitely not in the forefront of my brain before Wednesday, when DH and I had a conference with Little Boy's teacher. She emphasized that he is bright, sweet, kind, and has many friends. But his fine motor skills are not quite where they ought to be, and he's not as mature as some of the other kids in his class. He's a summer birthday, so he's one of the youngest in his class. We didn't even consider keeping him back a year, though, because public education is free, and being the youngest in his class didn't seem to bother Older Son even a little bit.

His teacher mentioned to us the possibility that he might be recommended for a smaller, transitional first grade class ("T1") for other kids like Little Boy. That is, kids of normal or better intelligence, with no learning disabilities and no behavioral problems, who just aren't ready for the more arduous work of first grade. It's a smaller class (12-15 students), and the curriculum is first grade, but more "play based." It sounds wonderful, but unfortunately, they do not also have "T2" and "T3." After a year of "T1," he would go into a regular first grade class. It doesn't show as a retention on his record, and it would let him enter the world of "real" school ahead of the game instead of behind.

I contrast this with Older Son's elementary experience. He went to an informal school in grades K-5. They had "family" groupings of grades - K-1, K-1-2, 1-2, 2-3, etc. Especially in the early grades, this was ideal for him. The curriculum was highly individualized - he was always working at his own pace. Even if he wasn't quite as "mature" as some of his grade peers, there was such a mix of maturity levels that it didn't matter much. His social and emotional development caught up with the kids in his own grade within a few years, but he didn't need an extra year of school to achieve that outcome.

Unfortunately, there's no school like that available here. We won't know whether "T1" will be the best option for Little Boy for a couple of months, but if it's offered, we need to seriously consider it. It seems the only alternative is to throw him in with the sharks and hope he learns to swim.

I recognize that any decisions about this option, should they come about, would need to be made based on what's best for Little Boy. Still, I can't help thinking that I've failed him in some way.

Some things are better left unsaid

That's not just a great song by Hall and Oates (yes, I'll be 45 tomorrow, how did you know?) it's also a good philosophy to live by.

Work has been very busy and life has been uneventful. The only thing really worth blogging about this week is...probably better left unsaid, at least for now. Nothing earth shattering; I'm just still processing it.

Does anybody out there have a cleaning person? What do you pay?

Today's Entry

DH is not thrilled with the new car. The seat doesn't go back far enough. But he has said he will live with it.

Today at lunch, I went to Winn-Dixie and grabbed some soda, and then took my soda and my sack lunch about a mile up the road to a little city park named Sunset Point. It has gazebos, and picnic tables, and it's right on Lake Pontchartrain. I love water.

My brother is in town, but can't work us in! Sales meetings, and they have him booked solid. He did wander over to Bourbon Street on day one for a bit, but he was very unimpressed. He also didn't think much of the Voodoo parade. It's a shame nice people come to New Orleans and leave disgusted.

I started Tai Chi again. Its kind of hard on my knees, but I'm being careful.

Housekeeping

Housekeeping didn't come and clean up yesterday while we were gone. What's up with that?

New Car

We got a new car yesterday. New to us, anyway. Here's a picture.

It's a 2002 Toyota Corolla. Very low mileage, and a very good price. The dealer is in Gulfport, 50 miles away, but it was worth the trip for the car.

Now I can actually drive to work. I'll be driving the older car, because it has tons of miles on it already, and my drive is shorter than DH's. Insurance went up $400 per half. Yikes!

Home Home Home

I'm home. I worked very hard, thirteen or fourteen hours/day for the first three days, and then a more normal schedule yesterday. I missed my flight out this morning, but was able to get home only a few hours later flying standby through DFW. I wanted to be sure to get the heck out of Chicago today if at all possible, because they are expecting 7-10 inches of snow in the next 24 hours, and nobody's leaving (at least by plane) once that hits. I figured if I could get to DFW, I'd be able to make it home tomorrow at the latest. As it was, I was able to get out on the first two flights from both places.

It was cold, and it snowed. I fell asleep on the plane during the flight there, and woke up about an hour into the trip, over "flyover country." Everything below had been green/brown when I went to sleep, but when I woke up looking out the window, all I could see was snow. I literally gasped. I realized that I hadn't seen real snow in about four years.

Those of you who live in northerly climes are probably rolling your eyes at my reaction to all this. After all, I am a Yankee. I have been through my share of Winter Weather. But I seem to have forgotten, so it's all a surprise again.

My car was a Jeep Grand Cherokee with 4WD. I was glad for that, as I drove through blowing snow a lot. I learned to drive in Ohio, and drove there for many years, but I think I would not have handled driving well in my hockey puck of a Cavalier after all these years. I was driving back to my hotel Wednesday night through horizontal blowing snow on I-80, and the thought occurred to me that the members of the Martin and Willie Handcart companies would probably have been grateful to have their only fear be that of their SUV rolling over.

Yesterday, as I was driving in NW Indiana, with a gray snow sky, flat landscape, wet slippery roads, and flurries melting and drying into dusty specks on my windshield, I experience a strange feeling, though...homesickness.

Business Trip

I'm off to Chicago for the week. I may audio blog from the road. I won't have 'net access to speak of. So primitive...

The high temperature there tomorrow will be 11 degrees. Then a heat wave arrives: 21 degrees on Tuesday, then in the low 30's the rest of the week. Daytime highs in New Orleans will be 66 degrees when I return home on Friday. I think I will be very happy to be back.

Depression squirting out the sides

I've probably blogged about this before. When I started getting treatment for my depression, and started feeling better, my therapist warned me that I might have occasional "breakthrough" episodes, where the Wellbutrin chemical bath my brain cells are receiving might not be enough to keep me from being depressed.

Usually, those breakthrough episodes are pretty predictable, and coincide most coincidentally with my menstrual cycle. Sometimes though, they are not. Even though they are usually brief (less than 24 hours duration), they are still extremely difficult to cope with. I find myself re-engaging in all the distorted thinking and self-loathing that got me into this mess in the first place.

The first time I was treated for depression, ten years ago or so, I got scared when I started to feel better. I was afraid that it was just temporary; that I'd be back to feeling the way I had before, and that feeling better was just temporary. That happens now almost every time I have a breakout. Fortunately, it has always proved an unrealized fear.

I'm so, so lucky to have the husband I do. He can't fix it, but he really tries to help; he does what he can. And unlike past husbands, he doesn't make it worse!

Begrudging other's good fortune and choices

A member of my family has made consistently excellent choices throughout her adult life, with only a hiccup or two here and there. Instead of applauding her, I begrudge her the rewards and benefits of those choices. Why am I being so petty?

I guess it's because just like one or two excellent choices very early on can make a huge difference in the rest of your entire life, one or two bad choices can have the same impact, and sometimes there's just no recovering. It doesn't matter NOW that I'm smart and together and hard-working and sensible: I'm still constrained by the long-term consequences of a bad marriage 20 years ago and misplaced priorities five years before that.

This is one reason why I'm so intent on helping my older kids make a good start as young adults. Beautiful daughter is trying to get through nursing school with two young children and a husband in law school. It's going to be tough, but not finishing could have terrible long-term consequences, while finishing can ONLY be a good thing. Older son is off to a great start in college, and I'm going to be relentlessly on his back to continue that trend until he's done.

Entry in the wings

I have a Real Entry in the wings, but I want it to go through DH review first. Maybe this evening.

LOTR immersion

My BIL loaned us all three extended edition DVD's from the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Last week we watched Fellowship, Friday night we watched The Two Towers, and last night we watched disk one of Return of the King. My daughter said she enjoyed the first movie, but by the third she was dozing off in the theatre. I replied that I would be happy to watch Aragorn and Legolas pose for several hours on end, even if there was no attendant plot. I'm enjoying the movies, though the battle scenes are a little intense. D'you think Frodo and Sam will make it to the mountain and destroy the ring?

I've enjoyed the DVD extras, though we haven't begun to watch them all. I learned that the hobbits spent two hours standing every morning while their prosthetic feet were attached. I can't even stand for an hour without my feet hurting.

One more time...

I start the new job on Thursday. IT person (the only one) for an Arby's franchise (53 stores). I go in to the office on Thursday and Friday, and Monday I leave for Chicago. I haven't travelled on business in years. It'll be interesting...Chicago in January, and I don't own a winter coat.

The money is better than the other job. The benefits are not as good, but they're still perfectly acceptable. No 401k, so I'll have to go with a Roth IRA on my own.

I'm looking forward to this job. Not only is the money better, but it's a much better job than the one I lost in terms of potential growth and variety.

Jammie Day

This morning, I got up at 6:45 and about 7:00 threw on some clothes so I could walk the little boy to the bus stop. When I got home, I read for a bit, and then decided I wasn't comfortable with what I was wearing. Rather than shower, dress, and get going...I put my pajamas back on! It's nice to have the house to myself again, and to enjoy the quiet, and relax in my flannel jammies.

I had a fourth (!) interview on the phone yesterday that went very well, so I could be back at work very quickly. Or, they could hire the other guy. But in case things go well, I wanted to make sure I had a "laze around in my pajamas" day before I head back to the salary mill.

My daughter and her family

This is my daughter and her older child; my grandson. Aren't they beautiful?



This is her husband, my son-in-law, and their little one; my granddaughter. Also beautiful, I think, and isn't he a handsome guy? He's going to be a lawyer, but he's OK in spite of that.

I'm the recipient of smuggled goods

Two internet friends, who shall remain nameless, took it upon themselves to send me Canadian candy. One would think that candy brands would be pretty much the same in North America, except for the necessary non-English translations on some packaging (Spanish to the South, French to the North, English Everywhere). Mais non!

The candy I received is of four varieties: Coffee Crisp, Aero, Smarties and Kit Kat. Coffee Crisp is not sold in the United States, except for a few places that import it. It's wonderful. It's like a Kit Kat, but with coffee-flavored cream between the crispy layers. My Mormon membership notwithstanding, I acquired quite a taste for coffee pre-conversion, and I have chosen to interpret that "hot drinks" does not include things merely flavored like coffee. Coffee Crisp is a lovely treat - it's very, very tasty, though I do wish the coffee taste was a bit stronger. It tastes more like coffee with cream than espresso.

Aero is also not sold in the States, I think. It's just a plain chocolate bar, but the chocolate has been aerated. Even though the candy melted some in shipment, the aeration is intact. It tastes like...chocolate air. Delicious, and possibly addicting.

Canadian Smarties are not like the Smarties here. Here, Smarties are like not-so-sour Sweet Tarts, in a roll. They are a popular Halloween handout, because they don't melt, and they're cheap. Plus, it's pretty sure that the kids will actually get to eat them, rather than losing them to Mom and Dad. In Canada, though, Smarties are like M&Ms with a thicker shell and funny colors - like purple and fuschia. Good stuff.

Only the Kit Kats seem to be the same as the USAmerican candy of the same name; the only apparent difference is the bilingual packaging.

I'm still quite amazed and delighted at this gift of exotic chocolate from people I know only online. When they told me they were sending it (and how), I was expecting one or two candy bars. Instead, I got a box of seventy "fun size" bars. They had melted slightly in transit, but a couple of hours in the fridge fixed them up nicely. I am still trying to decide what I'm willing to share. Mrs. Anonymous Candy Sender suggests that the Aero's are fine bribes to get little people to pick up their toys.

If you're interested in trying some of these tasty candies yourself - well, I'm not sharing; but you can order them for exhorbitant prices (due to customs issues, I guess) at www.canadiansweets.com.

This is my new space

I'll be decorating and moving things around in a few days.