HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

SOUNDTRACK:
“Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” - U2
“Every Day I Write The Book” - Elvis Costello

So I told you of my disappointment at an Aurora Public library recently. Without my preferred airplane reading, I opted for some juicy technical work-related reading instead - yawn. When I arrived here in Jersey, I investigated the local library system and saw that the Gail Giles book I sought was available at a branch about 8 miles from the office. I figured I’d make the drive after work today. Which I did, but my search of the shelves was fruitless and the librarian had no explanation. Is this a conspiracy?! She did however find a copy at another library - the one just a few blocks from my office. Go figure. The one that for some inexplicable reason did not show any available copies in their online catalog. But the librarian called and they assured us it was there. So I made the 8 mile trek back to my neck of the woods.

This library is newly remodeled and very nice. I located the YA section and the “G’s” and two *other* books by that author, but not the one I needed. For grins I checked the Juv shelves too, but no luck. So I went to the ref desk hoping maybe they were holding it for me. Nope. The librarian was nice enough to double-check the shelves, then asked a colleague to help. The other lady was the one who got the bright idea to check this new section they just started - they call it Middle School and it’s a cozy little teen-friendly corner in the basement with a selection of teen lit on a few shelves. I have no idea how this is different from YA or Juv but whatever. Sure enough, it was hard to believe I was finally holding the Holy Gail in my two hands.

I toted the coveted volume upstairs to the checkout desk and explained that I needed to apply for a card. Am I a resident of Morris County? Um, no. Well then I can’t check out books. At all?! Sorry. I explained my situation and the clerk said that she thought they could make an exception if I can come back tomorrow with a letter from my company confirming that I am a visiting employee and allowing me to use the company address on my account. Phbbbt.

With a sweet smile I declined and excused myself to a comfy chair in a corner to read for a while. It’s a 162 page book for Pete’s sake. I had an hour and a half til close and I managed to get through the first 14 chapters. The rest will wait until tomorrow evening.

Sheesh!

Hunger was setting in when I left the library at 9:00 pm. I went in search of a diner and found one that doesn’t actually smell like a nursing home. Not sure why this is, but a lot of the older diners here have a funky smell like your grandma’s closet. This one was ok though and the Greek guys running the place were very kind and generous. I had a cup of matzo ball soup and the french dip. All fabulous. I didn’t have room for the second half of the sandwich and three quarters of the fries went untouched. Technically, I didn’t have room for dessert either … not yet anyway. I got some to go. When the waiter asked what I wanted I was still waffling between the lemon meringue and the cheesecake. In the cold case I could see a pie with the biggest meringue peaks I’d ever seen, and perfectly golden. But this is the one dessert I’m allowing myself on the trip and, well, I’m in cheesecake country. “I’ll have the cheesecake.”

“Which one? Regular or sugar free.”
“Sugar free?! Doesn’t it taste weird?”
“You can understand no difference in taste.” He says in his heavy Mediterranean accent.

I took a chance on the sugar free. One, because I’m trying to be good to myself. Two, because I have always complained that the “cheesecake” you get in most places at home is way too sweet. I got it to go and headed for the hotel. Back in my room I quickly changed into my jammies and settled on the bed here with my laptop and my cake. Evidently, I’m not supposed to have my cake and eat it too because I neglected to get a fork in my to-go order. I’m not one to let a lack of utensils get in my way*. Sure it takes longer, but REAL cheesecake - sugar free even - tastes just as good when eaten with a coffee stirrer.

 

* room service, you say? C’mon I’m in my nightshirt. Besides I have a fundamental problem with tipping for a fork.

HAPPY

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t stop reading this guy’s blog.

“Our actions reveal our desires, regardless of the words we may use to express desires which conflict with our actions. In other words, we always do what we ultimately want to do.”
- Pensiero Profondo

This folks, is the beginning of understanding how to set boundaries. Your first reaction may be to disagree with this simple statement but click on the link and read the rest of his thoughts in this very short post. This is truth that many would much prefer to ignore.

I’m holding the hand of a very dear friend right now as she learns what it is to establish real boundaries and hopefully pull herself out of an abusive relationship. Plenty of people think they know how to set limits, they think it’s about putting your foot down and telling people what you will and won’t tolerate. It isn’t though.

Ten years ago, in the trenches of my own extremely unhealthy marriage, I saw my mother learning how to mend codependent relationships and it prompted me to research the subject and examine my relationships. As if my recent deconversion from religion hadn’t shaken my world enough, this journey would turn out to be even more disruptive and ultimately rewarding.

My favorite author on the topic is Robert Burney. In his writing he takes the reader through the difficult process of recovery from behavioral patterns and damaging beliefs to understanding personal needs and establishing self-respect through boundaries.

“…we need to own our feelings and set boundaries as a way of Loving ourselves, being a friend to our self - not to obtain a certain outcome.  When we set boundaries, we let go of the outcome.

Which doesn’t mean that we do not want the outcome - it means that we choose to take care of ourselves and take a risk that the outcome will not be what we want.  It is very important to take risks in recovery.  The purpose of getting emotionally honest with ourselves and owning our responsibilities is so that we can make better choices about the risks we choose to take.”

When I examined my life, motivations, and the choices I’d made, it was a real eye-opener. My marriage was a miserable codependency, I’d broken free from the grip of religious guilt but was dealing with the aftermath in all my Christian friendships and family relationships, and I was facing the daunting task of raising an emotionally healthy child despite it all. I might have wallowed in the mire of self-pity and blame but for my husband’s infidelity. It gave me the swift kick that I needed to take my life by the horns once again. When I packed my bags and left, I resolved to take full responsibility for my choices and emotions from that day forward.

I began a careful examination of each relationship in my life, asking myself if it was healthy? What did I get out of it? What did I put in? Were there unhealthy behaviors? Were the boundaries clear and appropriate? The most obvious one ended in divorce but also extensive counseling that would mend our friendship and allow us to parent as a team. In many cases the process served to strengthen. A few relationships I ended entirely, mostly in my religious circles. When it came to family, my honesty and boundaries were, in most cases, handled better than I ever imagined.

With ten years of retrospect, I can say that I have taken risks and made much better choices. I’ve learned to be honest with myself and to communicate my feelings honestly with others, setting healthy expectations in my own mind and taking responsibility for my own feelings. I let go of the need to feel I was controlling the outcomes and embraced the freedom of setting boundaries for myself, not others. I see that my son is learning healthy behavior and emotional patterns early in life - possibly the most important result of my personal growth.

My journey is far from over and I know that mastering the skill of setting boundaries is a never-ending endeavor. I took a chance five years ago on developing a new romantic relationship which came with a boatload of challenges in the codependency department. Learning to apply my knowledge about boundaries in the work environment holds room for improvement too. And on the parenting front, the bar is being raised as Bart moves into his teenage years.

Reading about other people’s adventures in boundaries and even reading today about one man’s thoughts on how our actions reveal our desires, is inspirational and reaffirming for me. What about you? Are your personal boundaries healthy? I’m interested to hear stories of others who have been on a similar journey or, for one reason or another, are ready to embark. 

Caution: Viewer Discretion Is Advised.
(best to read after the younguns are in bed)

 Special Thanks to JamesOtis (aka JMAC) for the links.

sketches

photos 1

photos 2

I’ve recently been given reason to ponder the depths of codependency and setting boundaries. This morning I chanced across an interesting blogger who offered insight into decision-making and individuality that seems to go hand-in-hand with my thoughts.

An excerpt from Pensiero Profondo’s post Being Influenced:

“From conception, our bodies develop from the physical contributions of our parents (whom we do not choose). At birth, we are branded with a family name (which we do not choose). As we grow, our parents teach us what they know…the best way to walk, the best way to talk, the best way to eat, etc…and before the age of two, we are pretty much just soaking it all in (without much input). By the time we can string together the right words in the right order to say, “I want to make my own decision,” we are already chock full of inheritance and borrowing most every idea that we have from some combination of contributions from a multitude of sources.

While we live in a world of “self-made” successful people and “self-taught” guitar players and other self-this and self-thats, surely we can maintain an epistemology as we grow older and more mature that acknowledges there is really no such thing as “true individualism”. We should refrain from buying into the notion that we really don’t need other people; we should remember to continue viewing ourselves as students in need of teachers.”

…

“If what I am saying is true, then we need to remember to say “balderdash” to those who would have us to believe that we can cast off all that we have learned and rely on our own intelligence. Such sentiments simply do not pass the test of common sense.

So what? What is the practical implication of stating that a logical epistemology includes someone teaching and someone learning.Most importantly, we need to be extraordinarily careful about who we choose as our primary teachers. We are generally inclined to agree with and therefore believe our primary teachers by default, so we must be deliberate in selecting them. We naturally want to trust our teachers and so we need trustworthy teachers.

So we keep this in mind as we choose what books to read, what newspapers, websites, and blogs to absorb, etc. We remember this as we decide who to turn to for advice.”

Codependency is a result of unhealthy behavioral patterns often learned very early in life. We are taught by the example of our parents, religious leaders, and partners to feel responsibility for the feelings of others and that it is somehow shameful and selfish to establish limits on our own behavior that place boundaries on our relationships. These boundaries make a necessary personal and emotional separation between us and those teachers we have chosen. Defining and protecting our personal needs and desires by creating such boundaries is true individualism.

SOUNDTRACK:
“Get The Party Started” - Pink
“Hammer & A Nail” - Indigo Girls

Technical difficulties, time constraints, motivational challenges, excuses… I overcame them all. And now, I present to you, THE CLOSET BLOG.

 Embarrassing as it is, I must start with the horrifying BEFORE photo.Too much crap, not enough shelves, and total disorder thanks to a cat who likes to climb Mt. Clothesmore to sleep in the blankets on the top shelf.

With a few measurements and some brainstorming, I came up with these drawings.

 

                       HIS side                                      HER side                  

     Back
 

At the Lowes David M did all my cuts for me for free! I was able to get all the shelves out of 1.5 4×8 sheets of MDF.

Originally, I had wanted some heavy duty construction el-cheapo brackets but they didn’t come in a large enough size. So I went looking for them at Home Depot. No luck there either so I started looking at alternatives. If you’ve shopped shelf brackets lately, you know that the prices are outrageous. Sure, I’d love to drop some dough on an Elfa system, but I settled for a basic Rubbermaid track setup instead.

Unfortunately, Lowes doesn’t do the sanding and painting for you so I had to put in some back-breaking work to prep the 12 shelves. While the paint dried, I gutted the closet to the bare walls.

  

One of the bigger frustrations I have with my house is that the studs are on 16″-ish centers. With the help of my stud finder it became apparent that I was going to have to use drywall anchors. I hate anchors. Incidentally, I only had 8 of the size that I needed and was anxious to finish at an ungodly hour of the morning so some of the tracks went up without as much support as they need. I’ll revisit that later.

 With a stiff back, sore arms, a headache (partly from bonking it on the underside of a shelf), and a small sense of accomplishment, this was the end result:

 

Yeah, I know, my OCD Libra friends are scowling because the colors are mixed and it would appear that I only wear jeans and T-shirts. Ok, that’s pretty much true. As for the organizing, let’s just say I’m happy to have room for everything, the sorting and categorizing will have to come later.

AND just for those of you who think I’m all tomboy (and for Tiddleywink), I took a few shots of my chick shoe collection, such as it is. 

Yes, those are HEELS. Mind you I own them, I don’t actually ever wear them. I am proud of the fact that I at least have one girly bone in my body and you have to admit the Sketchers pumps with the racing stripe piping and the little bow on the side are cute. Here (for those still in disbelief) is a better picture.

“Hey babe did you know I have a pair of high heels with bows on them?”
“Ungh?” (Looks at the pic.) “Oh! That’s not what I imagined when you said that.” 
Bart comes over to see what we’re looking at about. “Where’d you see that?”
“That is in my closet.”
“It is?!”

Guess I ought to wear them more often.

Anyway back to the closet. It’s not completely done (because I have trouble finishing things). I still need to sand, paint, and install the two lower shelves under the bar on the back wall. Also, I bought a new package of anchors and need to go to the trouble to reinforce the tracks. I also want to make some hooks on the wall next to my little mirror for my necklaces and rings. Homer indicated that he might like a cork or magnetic board above his chest of drawers.

Overall though, I feel really good about this. Anja was right, just getting one thing on that list done was something to be happy about.

WEDNESDAY

When I turned off the alarm and shuffled into the shower I felt ok. As I stood under the rain of hot water I felt better. Getting dressed I felt certain this day was off to a good start.

Then, I realized Bart was still in bed. When he got up and started getting ready for school he announced he had a problem. Here we go. It seems that the project he and his two classmates had been working on for music class was due today. Part of the plan was to bring his electric keyboard with him and the batteries were dead. Whew, that’s an easy one to fix. But wait! there’s more. The full page of research notes for the team had gone missing. He’s been searching for it for a week. And I’m just hearing about it now, 3 minutes to departure on the day it’s due?! Not cool.

“Sorry Bart, but the time for dealing with this was yesterday or the day before or even a week ago. Right now, you need to get in the car.” I got in the car, put on my sunglasses, put on my seatbelt, started the engine, toyed with the radio. Where is he?I took off my seatbelt and went back in the house ready for a showdown.

Bart was mostly ready but was looking for blank paper. I quickly handed him what he needed and ushered him to the car. On the way to school, he wracked his brain and recreated his notes on the composer from memory. Clever. Amazingly, he was not late. Heavy sigh.

Since my laptop was dead, I enjoyed the luxury of a bagel and a chai latte on the way back home. As I sat in the drive-thru lane and waited, I clicked through the radio dial and landed on the local classical station. They were discussing Gershwin and his first successful composition Rhapsody In Blue. Maybe you aren’t a classical fan and you think you haven’t heard it, but you would recognize parts of it that made you want to “fly the friendly skies”. I think United still uses it in their commercials. Anyhow, it’s a favorite of mine and not often that I get to hear the whole thing all the way through so I cranked up the volume and car-danced like they were playing “I Love Rock n Roll”. That put my morning back on track.

In case you’re wondering, Bart found his original notes in the back of his desk at school and as fate would have it, his group didn’t end up giving their presentation that day anyway.

THURSDAY

We woke to light rain and I didn’t even bother with a coat on my way out the door. Maybe I should have. By the time I was halfway back home from driving Bart to school, snow was falling - heavy wet glops of it and visibility on the road was less that a quarter mile. By noon this “light storm” was making fools out of the forecasters and we were on our way to 6.5 inches of their forecasted “no accumulation”. Despite the weather though, the UPS truck showed up and delivered my repaired laptop. It’s not quite good as new and I’m still tweaking configurations and hunting for missing files, but at least I’m back in business.

 Homer had one of his classic “icky weather” unproductive days. I mostly ignored him and did as much catching up for work as I could before it was time to pick up Bart. The local dirt roads had turned to clay slip ‘n’ slide and it was a slow drive. When Bart got in the car I was anxious to hear about his day. There had been a field trip to the local theater for a musical rendition of Frog and Toad and afterward, the presentation of the Science Fair projects. Bart was thoroughly unimpressed with the musical but he did well on his project. He got a 100%  grade and a nifty green ribbon (these days, everyone wins right?). I’m proud of him.

We made a stop at a new library that we have driven past and often wondered about. Talyn’s Reach is a very up-and-coming neighborhood and the library building is so modern and cool. The actual book selection though? Really disappointing. We went in looking for two specific YA titles. The catalog showed that they had 45 titles by Gordon Korman and none of them were the On The Run series we were looking for. As for Gail Giles? Their records showed that Dead Girls Don’t Write Letters should be on the shelf … but it wasn’t. I checked the Juvenile and Adult fiction shelves too but no luck. The librarian did a check of the same places also without success and suggested that it could be transferred from somewhere else in a week. But I want it for my trip in a couple days so I decided to go elsewhere.

Back home, I tried not to be smug as Homer discovered that his $82 grocery trip three days ago had been completely inadequate and there were not many options for dinner. I am resisting the urge to step in and “help”. It’s hard sometimes. The basic bean and cheese burritos were ok, but I supplemented with some chips.

It’s FRIDAY morning now and I have several things to write about but I also have four days of work to do in this one day. Further posting will have to wait for tonight. 

Despite Turtle’s unfortunate Connor episode, I managed to have a very enjoyable weekend in Moab.

You know that moment of clarity, about 30 miles from home, when you begin to list all the things you forgot to pack? Well, this time it was my toothbrush (no biggie) and my tunes. My tunes. Ack. Five and a half hours in the car with no CD’s, no MP3’s, no decent radio - or so I thought. To stay alert and occupied, I was forced to scan the FM dial incessantly and there was a surprising number of good songs being played on the 50-some-odd stations between here and there. I enjoyed songs I hadn’t heard in ages.

SOUNDTRACK:
“Free” - Train
“Always Something There To Remind Me” - Naked Eyes
“We Built This City” - Jefferson Starship
“You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” - Bachman Turner Overdrive
“Just The Way It Is Baby” - The Rembrandts
“Land Of Confusion” - Genesis
“Footloose” - Kenny Loggins
“Faith” - George Michael
“Desperado” - Eagles
“Go Your Own Way” - Fleetwood Mac
“Do Wah Ditty Ditty” - Maffatts
“Everybody Plays The Fool” Aaron Neville
“Life Is A Highway” - Rascal Flatts

Homer had already been there a week so there was no setting up camp when I arrived, I just crawled into a warm bag under tent shadows,  with the rustle of leaves and the smell of red rocks and river.

Most of the group had already left but the few of us staying the weekend enjoyed breakfast together and decided to forgo a day of wheeling and take in the fun sights of the Rod Benders Show in the park.

    
   

Sunday morning we broke camp and headed for breakfast in a very busy town. We drove around for a bit and finally discovered a breakfast buffet at the local Saskatchewan* joint. It was your basic continental buffet but with the added bonus of yesterday’s leftover fried rice, dumplings, and other Asian fare to compliment your bacon and eggs. With very full tummies we decided to take the scenic route home via Castle Valley and a stop at the old Dewey Bridge site.

    
 

When we pulled in at the bridge, we chanced upon Bubba and His Better Half with their insanely cute sheltie puppy, Oshka.

  

From there, we travelled together, stopping at an abandoned sandstone cliff house.

 

Where Bubba showed me the Septarian Nodules and dinosaur bone specimens he’d found and we checked out the scenery.

 
 

Then we rounded out the trip with a visit to Lewis Sweet Shop in Empire, CO. What? You haven’t been there?! Oh darling, it’s fabulous, you simply must go.

And now I am back at home where real life continues with bills to pay, science projects due, and a completely crashed work laptop.**

*Apparently, Bubba has been referring to Szechuan food as Saskatchewan for a long time. We were very amused and have adopted the practice, fighting hard the urge to confuse the server with questions about the Big Foot Special, eh.

**Of course, all my closet project pictures just happened to be on that laptop (stupid, I know) so I’m holding off on that post until my data is recovered.