Happy Birthday Lala

Recently, while doing nightmare work with an 13 year-old cancer survivor I asked her to tell me about her worst nightmare. She related the following:

I was sitting in a room filled with water. My sister was next to me and suddenly I felt really mad at her and so I pushed her into the water. She drowned. I felt scared and so I ran away. But I felt really bad that I had just killed my sister and so I ran back to the water room and pulled her out of the water. I gave her CPR and then she began to fill up like a balloon and then she was all better. I felt so happy then.

When I woke up I felt like such a jerk. I mean, what is wrong with me that I would kill my sister?

I've never told you this before. When I was 11 I had the worst nightmare I've ever had. A factory came alive and kidnapped you. The factory sent a ransom note that demanded I go to the factory. When I got there the factory told me that it was all my fault that it kidnapped you--it kidnapped you because of all the mean things I had done to you over the years.

That's when I woke up.

I felt really guilty and sad and traumatized by this dream, I still do to some degree. Hearing my client tell me her dream reminded me of my dream years ago. Her sister is two years older than her just like you are to me. They fight a lot, just like we did.

BUT...

I remember the good times a lot more than I remember the bad.

I remember the time I got invited to the mall but didn't have any money. You gave me your $7 so I could go and have fun.

I remember writing things on the bottom of the top bunk.

I remember our room re-arrangments. You wanted to plan out the re-arrangement before we would get started and you would diagram it on a piece of paper. We would consult the diagram each step of the re-arranging process. You would promise me you wouldn't be bossy if I would just help you with the plan.

I remember "peaches, plums, and alphalfa."

I remember playing Rummy for hours and hours and hours. I always was a poor sport, you never were.

I remember riding the Metro Bus to Clackamas Town Center.

I remember the shirt you gave me for Christmas in like 1993, I still have it. I still wear it.

I remember the time Weiner broke down in Woodburn.

I remember your so-flat-of-a-pillow-can-it-actually-be-a-pillow? And your yellow pull-over robe you wore to youth conference. And those sandals you wore every day and eventually duck-taped when you were a senior in high school. And "THE CLICKING!" And your love of sour patch kids. And the time you wore the gay pride parade shirt to Grandma Hazel's house. And Brent Castle. And playing Barbies. And when you got your mission call and then had the guts to listen to the Spirit's promptings instead, even when it got super hard. And how "Angels We Have Heard On High" was your favorite Christmas song (is it still?). And the laundry basket you gave me I still have. And playing raquetball at BYU and talking about having children and me having a feeling that you were suffering from the challenges of infertility and not knowing what to say because my heart was breaking for you. And the first time I met G...and then when he was "Uninformed." And how when I freaked out after I went through the temple you were there to calm me down. And the letters you wrote me when you went away to college. And believing you, when I didn't believe so much, that The Church is true. And watching you read 10 pages of the Bible each night to finish it on time for seminary. And reading your articles in The Daily Universe and feeling proud. And you apartment in Wymount. And when you were chosen for Buddy. And when Buddy was born. And when Buddy was blessed. And when Buddy was sealed and that was the first time our entire family was in the temple together. And when I was worried about your feelings when I wanted to tell you about being pregnant, and how you supported me anyway. And when you were chosen for Sambo. And when Sambo was born. And when Sambo was blessed. And when Sambo was sealed. And when Hippo's crying was so incessant you helped empower me to do something about it.

You emailed me awhile back about this story. I did follow the story after you told me about it and was so overcome with grief and appreciation for the sister relationships I didn't know how to effectively communicate it. The story reminds me that I have been very blessed with a sister who would be willing to do just as much for me as these sisters do for theirs.

Thanks for being a sister to me. Needless to say, I've needed you.

A Typical Day In The Life Of...

A full time

    

                    Therapist

                    and

                    Mother

                    and

                    Wife

                    and

                    Human               (at least most of the time)

It snowed all day.  I was late to my morning meeting as a result. 

I wore my snow boots but carried my new brown cow print/patent leather wedges into the building and swiftly changed into them.

Later, a seven year-old girl said to me, "Um, you shouldn't wear shoes like that when it's snowing." It is nice to be lectured instead of being the lecturer. 

Later, I hung out with three boys in the same foster home (ages 7, 12, and 18) for half an hour in the waiting area instead of doing work.  We had so much fun coming up with nicknames for each other:  7 year-old=toothless lizard, 12 year-old=kicking vacuumer, 18 year-old=reeking wrestler, 30 year-old=weird wedge wearer.

Later, L called and I spoke to Hippo over speaker phone.  He sounded happy.

Later, I told one of my oldest clients I was discouraged because he continues to lie.  The exact line was, "I feel discouraged because I thought this lying thing was headed somewhere positive."  I think that was a stroke of genius.

Later, while driving home I heard my two favorite Christmas songs, "Feliz Navidad" and "I Won't Be Home For Christmas" (Blink 182).

Later, I signed loan papers for my new car.  I'll miss the Land Rover.  I'm looking forward, however, to a heated seat that works (once you go heated, you don't go back).

Later, I helped L bath Hippo and wished him (L) a safe trip to work (that was after I ate the ENTIRE chocolate covered Oreo we were supposed to share because he yelled at me for locking the car).

Later, I played moroccas with Hippo while singing, "La Cacca-Racca" in my best Mexican accent, which turns out sounding more Asian, which he LOVES.

Later, after I put Hippo in bed, I made six dozen pumpkin cookies with caramel glaze to serve L's step-family coming over tomorrow evening.

Later, I watched the dance scene in "Napoleon Dynamite" which instantly made me feel much better, even though I wasn't feeling bad.

Later, while climbing up the basement stairs I realized my butt cheeks are sore and I can't figure out what exercise I've done to cause this.  

I'm Nine Months

My mommy and daddy cannot believe how many milestones I've hit in just one week.  It all started with me rolling from my back to front all by myself!  I don't do it really well yet, but at least I can now.  Also, I don't get as mad being on my tummy anymore.  A few times I've even gotten into the crawl perch, but nothing really happens other than a little bit of rocking back and forth.  My mommy says my brain is trying to figure out how to crawl. 

Here I am jumping in my Johnny Jump Up.  I used to just hang in it because I didn't know what to do but clearly I've figured it out this week.  My mommy could not believe it yesterday when I jumped, enthusiastically, for one hour and a half straight.  The only reason I stopped was because it was bed time.  I've never ever occupied myself for more than 20 minutes (and that has only happened three times in nine months) and my mommy was able to accomplish more than she thought possible.  

In the packet my pediatrician gave my mommy Monday at my nine month check up it said that nine month-olds have a lot of energy; that is an understatement for me.  I love to scream in happiness and in anger.  I love to laugh and play and rough-house.  I love to eat, especially all of the special food from the holidays.  I love to clap my hands and give my mommy five.  I also give my mommy kisses but I refuse to give my daddy kisses.  I prefer my daddy, however, in the daytime which hurts my mommy's feelings.  I still would rather her feed me, though, and I like it when she comforts me when my daddy gets too rough.  

I throw temper tantrums more than ever when I don't get what I want.  I usually throw myself on the floor and then when I realize I hurt my head when I do that I really freak out.  

I am in the 80th percentile for weight and height.  People think I am adorable even when I have attitude.  People can't resist wanting to hold me.  Yesterday at a family party one of my daddy's cousins who does not like babies couldn't help himself when he saw me.  He asked my mommy to hold me even though there were more than 10 babies to choose from; he said I was by far the cutest one.  It kills my mommy that I am a good boy in public (though she is also thankful) because most people don't believe her when she tells them I am naughty at home.  It's just that I get bored with my mommy and daddy.  I wish I had brothers and sisters because I LOVE other kids.  My mommy told me to forget about it when I asked for a brother for Christmas.  

I still love music and my new favorite song is Akon's "Right Now."  When my mommy sings it to me I get really excited and I wave my arms and laugh.  

Finally, I can pull myself into the standing position if I am sitting backwards on my mommy's crossed legs.  My mommy thinks I could probably do it at other times but I haven't generalized the information yet.  

I Need A Little Christmas Right This Very Moment

Research identifies 5 markers of a healthy family.

Traditions are one.

Think about what you look forward to most about the holidays.  I bet it's a tradition.  

One of my favorite family traditions growing up was my sister's birthday party. She was born on Christmas Eve (which she loves) and every year we had the family and many of her friends come by.  When we were in piano lessons we would put on a concert of Christmas Carols we were forced to learn (I can't believe my family members stomached through that year after torturous year). When we were little we would strut down our long hallway in fashion shows for my grandmas--my brother was always the hit of the show.  After the festivities my sister, brother, and I would have a slumber party in the bedroom my sister and I shared.  My brother and I would wake up early and try and coax my sister out of bed, which never really worked.

And my very favorite food tradition is my Grandma Hazel's "Snacks," which is homemade Chex Party Mix that she would throw in several varieties of crackers in addition to the traditional ingredients.  And every year I'd get yelled at for picking "the good things out."

L and I have started a few traditions since we've been married.  Here's one: we go to the store each year to pick out a Christmas tree ornament, each, to put on the year's tree.  This derived  from us not having any ornaments at all when we got married.  Our annual trip to the Christmas aisle has created some funny memories.  This is the ornament L picked out the first year: 

Every year since we argue about who really picked it out because L is embarrassed about it now.

This is the ornament Hippo picked out this year:

Here is the one Damnit picked out:

Later she beat it up:

Cashing in a fun tradition was well needed after the week we had.  On Monday there was a crisis involving one of my favorite clients which tore my heart apart. She will be okay, I guess, but the outcome was not optimal despite my great efforts.  Further, L found out that day he didn't get a position in the particular ICU he was hoping.  He was more disappointed than I have ever seen him. Fortunately this had little to do with his skills and work performance and everything to do with politics.  Though still disappointed we feel the place he did get a job will be beneficial for his long term plan and will open up wanted opportunities.

Tuesday evening as I was gathering my things together to leave the office I noticed I had a voicemail.  I decided to listen to it, even though I usually save end-of-day voicemail for the next day.  Unfortunately it was a guardian of one of my incarcerated clients leaving me the most threatening voicemail of my career...and life.  There were few staff left in the office and it took me several hand-wringing minutes to find security.  Don't worry too much the police are now involved and I am considering pressing charges.  My company has been very supportive in managing this situation to where I feel safe and secure (well, as good as I can possibly I guess).  The worst part of the threat had little to do with the things she said about me, but the things she said about Hippo.  Of course she doesn't know him, but since they have been my clients for some time I knew them when I was pregnant.  Therapists tend to be guarded for such reasons and it always frustrated me I was not able to hide that part of my life but I figured nothing bad would actually happen.  

That event was overshadowed by this one:  When I got home that night L informed me his dad's new wife was in a coma and expected to pass away in the next 24 hours.  We were invited to pay our last respects which I felt uncomfortable about since we are not intimate family and I felt this time should be for those who knew her and loved her most, like her parents, her siblings, and her children.  We decided, however, we should go to support L's dad.  It was a very good thing we went because when we arrived the anxiety in the home was so thick one could barely breathe.  L was able to explain the situation to her children and to his dad so they were all on the same page and understood exactly what choices they had. They finally all agreed on what was best.  L's dad called at 2:00 am to say she had passed away an hour earlier.  

Wednesday evening I began feeling a cold coming on.  By the time Thursday afternoon came around I was extraordinarily sick (with my annual sinus infection) and so I left work early canceling the remainder of my appointments. It was a HUGE mistake to cancel my own appointments.  I got chewed out by a few clients when they found out in addition to that day I would be canceling next week due to the services I would be attending for L's dad's wife.  Can you believe the nerve of some people?  I finally said to one father, "I can help a lot of things but I cannot help the fact that your son has been a slacker in his treatment for the past 18 months, nor can I help when people in my family die. Maybe I need to have the conversation with his probation officer instead of you." Needless to say he backed off but I have a grave feeling this is not the end of my clients' complaints.

In addition to all of the other crap going on this week I was not able to say goodbye to a very good friend moving to Mexico indefinitely, due to being so sick.  I also found out our other friend, who shares our babysitter, is so unsatisfied with her services, because their child gets beat up by her child, they have pulled their child.  It makes me worry Hippo will be the new target but two days notice is not long enough to find a new babysitter.  Thankfully we only need her two and a half  more days before my Christmas vacation. Also this week, L's long time best friend's child had a cancer scare but tests this week ruled that out, thank goodness.  

Even though it's been a week of tragedy, disappointment, worry, and stress we feel blessed to have our jobs, to have our health, to have our beautiful home, to have our working (barely sometimes) cars, to have a loving kitty, and to have supportive families.  It's been hard to stay in the Christmas Spirit this season but our family Christmas traditions bring us back to what's important. 

Here's a funny picture of Hippo putting the star on the tree.

What Were They Thinking?

Our administrative assistant is near retirement; she accepted the job because she was displaced when the program that she managed was closed two years ago.  She is great.  She is like our department grandma.  BUT...

She's a little rigid.  

She's a little anal.

She redirects us when we're late, when we leave something on the printer for too long, when we refuse to answer our phones, and when we do anything she feels is not productive.  

She wants to make sure everything, EVERYTHING, is done by the book.  She does not leave one rock unturned or one therapist un-lectured in her quest to be thorough.

I have to walk by her fish-bowl office in order to get to my office and so if she has things she would like me to improve upon mornings are her prime opportunity to lecture me. Unfortunately, mornings are the worst time to lecture me.

Every monday morning I do the same routine:  pretend I'm listening to her as she lectures me on leaving five minutes early on Friday, walk into her office while saying, "Mmm Hmm, Mmm Hmm", and check my box.  This Monday I noticed something oddly 3D in my box under some paperwork.  I pulled out a braided fake-hair extension.  There's a lot of things in life I don't want to touch without proper gloving and used hair extensions are no exception.  Between my pinched pointer finger and thumb I held up the hair extension as far extended from by body as physically possible and said to her in disgust, "What is this?"  

"I think that belongs to your client."  She states simply, innocently.

"Soooooo...?"

"I think it fell off her head last week after you left early Friday."  She calmly replies.

"Soooooo...?"

"You need to make sure she gets it back."  She says with authority.

I walked over to the garbage can and violently threw it away with a downward whip of my hand. And then I pumped a large amount of hand sanitizer into my palm and proceeded to dramatically sanitize my hands and the entire length of both arms.  "That is weird and gross!"  I cried as I made a swooping exit from her office.  

She means well but there's a line one should not cross.

You Have Stolen My Heart / Thanksgiving

WARNING:  If you're not family you may want to skip this one because it may be a little boring to those who don't innately love Hippo.  Hippo has taken to dancing when he is feeling the music.  He danced to the RS practice hymn last Sunday which proves he loves even church music.

Thanksgiving was Hippo's best day in his eight months of life.  He was given a lot of things to eat including turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, candied yams, pumpkin pie, apple pie and vanilla ice cream, and stuffing.  He LOVED everything and was the hit of the party.  

No, Hippo is not crawling yet.  I finally bought him a toy that claims it "encourages crawling." Hmph, false advertising.

He says "Ma" and "Mama" for me.  Folks find it funny that he yells these at me already when he wants something or if he is irritated with me.  I think he says "Ba" for food or when he is hungry, not specific to his bottle though.  He hasn't figured out that L is "Dadadadadada" yet.  

Since we ate at a restaurant for L's proclaimed favorite holiday I thought I'd make him a pumpkin pie for dessert last night.  After reviewing pie crust recipes and viewing tutorials online I chose an all butter (for the fat) recipe.  Unfortunately it didn't occur to me that this recipe was best for pre-baked pie shells until after I baked the entire pie.  So when L got home from work I wanted to show him what the bottom of the pie looked like through the glass dish so he could decide if it looked wrong or not. I'm sure you can figure out what happened next...THE PIE FELL OUT OF THE DISH ONTO MY OUTSTRETCHED ARMS!  L laughed and I cried a little.  L salvaged what he could and when I anxiously asked him how the crust turned out he said, "Well, it's a bit on the flaky side."  Despite the falling-out-of-the-dish tragedy and despite L's lack of palate sophistication I guess I succeeded after all. 

Cow Love

Jordan this one is for you!

What A Week, Turning 30 And All

I've had the best week.  Albeit an out-of-the-ordinary one.  Despite turning 30.

It all began Tuesday night when I begged, bribed, prodded, annoyed L into letting me open my birthday presents early. He refused unless I agreed to outrageous circumstances which I refused but continued feeling as excited as I have ever felt for a birthday, as excited as I was when still a kid anticipating Christmas. I kept reflecting on how I should be feeling old and stressed about turning 30.  What's weird is that I haven't felt bothered by it yet.

Wednesday morning L got up with Baby (but known as Hippo from now on) and I slept in until my giddiness, five minutes later, propelled me to jump out of bed and run downstairs to my waiting pile of presents. Hippo helped me rip the paper from my new MacBook Pro and a new printer (I've been wanting one in my office since I started work even though I will have to eat exactly two less mini candy bars per day to make up for calories I will be saving due to not having to walk the 50 yards to the printer 10 times per day).

Then we got dressed and went to breakfast at my favorite diner/dive.  Before my french toast got to me Hippo dumped a cup of ice water onto my lap and pooped making us realize we didn't bring a darn diaper bag.  I didn't even get annoyed and Hippo didn't even get diaper rash.  

Later that day I attempted to alter my body permanently and was foiled; more on that later.

L attempted to have a family party that night but no one could come and so we bought pizza and ice cream cake for the neighbors and plotted with friends to take a trip the next day.

We rose early Thursday morning to pack and shop.  By 10:30 am we were headed to Mink Creek, ID.  The best thing about going to Idaho is the Idaho State Lottery.  I spent $10 only to win $3.  The excitement, anticipation, and scratching is totally worth the extra $7.  I spent the next 24 hours sitting on the Mink Creek couch being entertained by Hippo and our friends' three kids (and eating junk food).  Hippo was completely enthralled by their three year-old spending most of the trip gazing at him and trying to engage him.  

Hippo didn't help L catch these but he sure thought they were cool.

We arrived home just in time to mass clean the house for a friend party.  Getting take out and staying up until 3 am isn't like it was when I was 21 but it was still super fun to have 3 therapists, two nurses, a cop, and a chemical engineer in the house.  You can just imagine the stories!!!

I had to get up early the next morning to get this:

Yep.  That's right.  Your eyes do not deceive you.

Don't worry, if you feel like leaving a rebuking comment you should know I have been thoroughly rebuked by family and friends.  AND, I realized before the needle plunged through the dermis that I was making a mistake, that the prophets have advised against it, that I may regret it (don't yet), and that I am setting a bad example to family members, clients, and prosperity.  I chose to do it anyway.  Though it won't seem reasonable to you (and probably won't to me in the future), a girl who works with criminals everyday of her life sometimes needs to rebel herself and let off a bit of steam, hopefully always in legal ways.  

To answer your questions--it is about 2 inches in diameter on my right shoulder blade.  It will only be visible when I swim and workout.  It only hurt a little bit.  It feels like a cat scratching you over and over again in the same place.  It didn't hurt at all afterward and the only residual annoyance is that it is currently itchy.  It took about 10 minutes to do.  John, my personal artist, had 16 years of experience and yes, had his entire body covered besides his face.  Out of all of us there I think mine was the most tasteful--one guy was getting a huge Virgin Mary on his shin and a girl was getting some Chinese symbols on her muffin top.  Seeing that was probably the worst part of the entire experience.  Hippo went to the Weber State football game while L supported me in my sinfulness.

Shortly after the completion of my body art we had to rush to SLC to watch Hippos Grandpa Ray wed for the 4th time.  Sadly, his new wife was unable to stand during the ceremony as she is currently suffering from stage 4 lung cancer.  What a mix of emotions.  That's all I have to say about that.

Sunday L had to work and I was scheduled to teach RS.  I had to get Hippo up and ready and to church all by myself.  Wow, that was hard.  Since L wasn't at church my mother-in-law held him while I taught and he got so excited to see me up at the front and to hear my voice he kept yelling at me to get my attention and then screatching when I would look in his direction Eventually she took him out because I began laughing at him instead of teaching.  You might be wondering if I had any guilt while teaching knowing I had just had ink done--not at all.  The lesson was about magnifying your calling.

Back to work today after a 5-day weekend.  After an awesome one like that it wasn't so bad going back to work.  For those I've neglected to tell, I have been invited to work part time at my job and so I will not be quitting after all.  And every weekend, then, will be a 5-dayer.  The rest of the time I am going to hang out with this guy:

Eight Months

My mommy is going to be busy turning 30 years-old Wednesday when I really turn eight month and so we have to do an update on me post today.

I should have been busy in my seventh month.  But instead of learning to sit up on my own, rolling from my tummy to my back, getting up on my hands and feet, and dare-I-say crawl I spent this month freaking out and regressing.  It all started with my two top teeth coming in. They caused me a lot of trouble because they hurt really bad and I couldn't sleep very well.

When the teeth stopped bothering me I began to go through what my Auntie Lala says is object permanence.  This is an important time for babies my age because learning object permanence helps children become emotionally well-adjusted.  Kids that don't learn it will develop attachment and other mental health disorders and will show up in Mommy's office in a few years.  They often grow up to have problems being in relationships, have trouble regulating their emotions, have temper problems, and are at a high risk to abuse drugs and commit crimes.  Modern science has shown that kids who do not learn object permanence actually have physiological differences in their brains=brain damage.  Even though my mommy and daddy about went crazy they knew it was important to be patient with me even when I cried all night and was grumpy all day.  This lasted for three weeks and now that it is over Mommy, Daddy, and I are sleeping a lot better and we all are in better moods.  

My Daddy took me to the doctor when I was really out of control and he checked to make sure I was still healthy.  The doctor said I am very healthy even though my acid reflux (which actually should be called GERD due to the painful symptoms I have) is very bad.  The doctor is still not worried about me though and this time the doctor explained patiently to my Daddy that there is nothing that will really help me except growing up and growing out of it.  Even though my Mommy got frustrated with the "there's nothing we can do" answer, it has helped her relax a little bit and feel more assured that I will be okay.  They added a new formula twice a day to make the formula heavier in my tummy so I don't spit up as much--it sort of works but it is even more expensive than my Soy formula which makes my mommy feel stressed out when she goes to the store to buy it for me.  That didn't stop her from buying me this puffy vest though.

  

Today my second cousin, who is 10.5 months-old, came over and crawled around my house like he has been crawling since he was six months-old (oh, he has been) and my mommy told me to watch him to learn how.  I didn't want to watch him and I felt offended that she was comparing me to him. Maybe I won't ever crawl.  Some people say that babies who don't crawl have problems reading which of course makes my mommy worry even more.

I still love my mommy and daddy best.  I really like my daddy to rough house with me and I like it when he throws me into the air and makes me ride on his head.  My daddy says it hurts his feelings that I refuse to allow him to feed me before bed but it's just that my mommy does it so I feel content and sleepy.  I love my kitty and I love books--especially ones that pop up.  I love my babysitter and her son who is my best friend--we give each other kisses.  I play kissy-face with my mommy too.  I like to sit in the front of the shopping cart and in a high chair at restaurants.  My favorite food is cherry and apples mixed together and any type of squash.  My mommy tries to give  me treats to crawl but I still refuse to and then I demand more treats!

I can say lots of different sounds now but I don't really know what any of them mean yet.  My Grandpa Con thinks I am going to be a great intellect but not a very good athlete...which makes my daddy mad and my mommy laugh.  My mommy says it is just too soon to tell.

I am about 20 pounds now and I am busting  out of my nine month clothes.   My mommy doesn't mind because she loves to shop.  Just not for formula!!!

The Month To Give Thanks

November is the time to give thanks. Well, thank you to the following:

Threats—without them I wouldn’t have a job

The lady who cut me off nearly killing me and Baby this morning—because seeing her a mile later on the side of the freeway with smoke pouring out from the hood reminded me that Karma makes life worth it

My company’s IT department—giving me an excuse to have a bad attitude

People with poor hygiene—because they make me look good

Gossip—gives me something to talk about

The 11 fast food restaurants within a mile from my house—for allowing me to give myself a treat each time I don’t eat there

Teenage Angst—earns me a paycheck

Family Feuds—gives me an outlet for my aggression

My Slow Work Computer—the reason I stare out my office window and gaze at the Purple Mountains Majesty instead of completing my paperwork

Other People’s Problems—making me thankful for my own

My Problems—making me thankful I have these problems and not those problems

Idaho, As an Oregonian—75 MPH B……iotch! And that is the only reason Idaho is to be thanked

IPhone—makes me look more important than I really am

Baby crying all night long—‘cause I’m always looking for a reason to miss Monday’s staff meeting

Food Poisoning—A quick way to lose those extra pounds

Politics—makes it socially acceptable to say socially unacceptable things about people

Gangs—without which my current nemesis wouldn’t have had their car tagged last week. HAHAHAHAHA! Nothing beats a large SK on the passenger door, eh?

Dexter—I’ve never had such a good time questioning my morality

V8 Engines—an excuse to never be the driver

L forgetting chapstick in his pocket for the umpteenth time when I do the laundry—the reason I have the most expensive pair of jeans I will ever own

4 year-olds—for saying what we’re all thinking

Good Intentions—for paving the road to hell I’m on, it's a lot less bumby now

My brother and sister-in-laws on L’s side—never a dull minute. And for giving me something to look forward to in Spring and Fall, the bi-annual swimming pool cleaning. You’ve never heard such yelling, swearing, crying, and screeching coming from a neighbor’s yard.

My Father-in-Law’s Twine Pile—looking at it from Google earth is a wonder

What are you thankful for this year?

Roastin

Summer/Fall '08

Now that winter is finally here in Utah I though I would update you all on my adventures and projects. As you can see in the following picture, you might be thinking to yourself; what in the heck is that? 

That my friends is a chile roaster. Built by yours truly and my good friend Andy. Andy and I had been dabbling in farmers markets over the summer only to find our hard work was not paying of in the amount that we wanted it to. About the middle of the season we decided to built this awesome contraption thinking we hit the jackpot. We knew that chile roasters are a huge deal and they are very hard to come by in the state of Utah. Let's just say for legal complications to make it short. Anyways we built this thing, however it took us 3 weeks to build. We both had other jobs so we could only do it in our spare time. That left little time to not much else. Yep you guessed it, that drove M bonkers. She was spitfire mad about the whole thing. The nice thing about it was that we knew a guy (Andy's dad) who is in the steal business and most of it was made from scrap steal. So it did not cost us a whole lot. The bad thing was it took us so long to build that we missed the season and only made about $150. Although this year was a bust, we are ready for next year. Bring on the chile's.

On Monday's I have a morning meeting with my internship in which we meet with all the ICU managers and discuss how the past week went. This meeting goes from 8am-12pm. So after that me and some cohorts decided that would be a great time to mountain bike. I was only able to make it a couple of times due to other chile and baby arrangements. But here are a couple of collateral damage pictures.

We Veto'd the Monkey

Halloween is super fun

Even though the monkey won in the polls Baby's nickname is Hippo.

Hippo and JoseJay. This is only the 2nd time JoseJay has held Baby in seven months.

"Trick or Treat!"

Okay, Okay, OKAY! We know he looks like an idiot and will FREAK out when he is old enough to understand that his parents dressed him as a HIPPO for his first Halloween, but we just could NOT resist!

Recipe of the Month

Bowel Moving Fruit Salad

1  cup   Activia Light Vanilla Flavored Yogurt

2 cups  Fruit Medley

Cut desired fruit and berries into bite size chunks.  

If you use peaches, pears, pears, or bananas make the pieces a bit larger than bite sized because the yogurt will break them down.  

I usually do the following combination of fruit:

1 cameo apple

1 banana

2 peaches

1 small bunch, grapes, halved

10 strawberries, halved

This is super quick, super good, super healthy and super worth it if your feeling a bit compacted.  If you don't think this sounds good, just try it and you will be really surprised.  By the way, this feeds only two and so make more than you think you need because it is so good people will eat loads of it--L and I fight over it and usually eat so much of it we don't feel like dessert (yeah, that's right).  Another reason to make extra is so you can have it for breakfast tomorrow morning.  Other fruit possibilities:  canned mandarin oranges, fresh pineapple, plums, various berries, mango, tangelo, and oranges.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Therapy doesn't have to be complicated. At my best, things can be summed up on one or two lines:

In response to a 15 year-old boy who came into therapy one day with his hair fashioned exactly like mine--hair dye and all:

"I'm not sure whether I am flattered or creeped out."

In response to an 18 year-old boy who stormed into my office shouting nonsense:

"Shut the hell up or GET THE HELL OUT!" (He shut the hell up)

In response to a not-so-hygienic 15 year-old girl's compliment that I always look cute:

"The secret is in showering every day." (She still doesn't shower every day)

In response to a grandmother's ambivalence about whether to continue raising my client, large attitude and all:

"YOUR indecision is the problem, not her." (She made up her mind to keep my client no matter what and they no longer need therapy)

In response to the mother who does not like the child she adopted, my client:

"Have you considered getting a therapist?" (She did and she is feeling much better, so is my client)

In response to many parents who actually bring their child in for therapeutic intervention to address a chief complaint that their child will not do chores without a fight:

"I have just two rules you must follow in order to get them to do chores and you won't like either one.  First, don't give them chores; second, if you choose to disregard rule one, do the chores with them."  (Usually they disregard both rules)

In response to a 17 year-old boy's complaint that his teacher is rude to him and won't listen to him after he called her a mother f------- b----:

"What you're experiencing is a case of bad behavior evidenced by your bad behavior here, at home, at school, and in the community.  When you are experiencing a particularly bad bout of bad behavior, like you clearly are, people don't like you and they certainly don't listen to you." (This was in group and the other boys gave him specific examples of his bad behavior--love it when a group catches my momentum)

In response to the parents of my 67 clients when they complain about getting their child out of school to come to therapy, because they might do badly if they miss:

"Make a determination which is more important--good grades or being emotionally healthy.  I support you either way."     AND/OR

"Those who are good students do well anyway.  Those who are poor students are poor students with or without therapy."  (They really hate this one and will usually complain again in our next session)

In response to the millions of times I've heard this "You don't understand.":

"You're right.  Help me understand." 

In response to the 14 year-old kid who had abused a 7 year-old cousin when he told me I was brainwashing him:

"Yep.  Something I am willing to do to make sure no other child or human being is ever hurt by you again."  (He was sent, by his judge, to a residential treatment center one week later when he re-offended)

In response to the hundreds of thousands of times I've been asked this, "You haven't ever used drugs have you?":

"You know we therapists have a name for that question--the million dollar question.  (Gets 'em every time and I have never answered this question)

In response to when parents, of kids who have abused other kids, question me, "Why in the world would someone like you do something like this?"

"The answer has everything to do with the stereotyping you are doing right now."  (Ouch...and they don't think they themselves need therapy)

In response to when parents ask me when their kid is going to be done with court-ordered therapy:

"Have you asked your kid?"  (The kid then gets yelled at)

In response to when parents want me to talk to their child one-on-one to see if they have been abused:

"Why would they tell a virtual stranger they are alone with in an office with the door closed?"

In response to the parents who complain they can't get in to see me often enough:

"You know a good therapist when it's hard to get in to see them.  We have other therapists with more availability."  (They never change therapists. I don't say this to those I am sick of)

That's it for now.  I hope you have enjoyed the free therapy!!!!

7 Month Itch

This Sunday Baby turns 7 months-old.  Despite his maturity in months he refuses to roll from his back to his front, get onto his hands and knees, or even think about crawling.  I snapped this photo while he was very briefly entertained by me before he rolled over.  He has accomplished back bending and pulling himself into the sitting position from lying barely inclined.  Notice these skills are back skills and NOT stomach skills.

Baby has a sense of humor.  I'm not sure if he thinks everything is funny (evidenced by the fact that he finds L funny) or if he has tasteful humor (evidenced by the fact that he finds me funny). He laughs often even when tired, grumpy, or hungry.  His ability to be distracted from discomfort with humor has been a huge change from the early weeks.  A few nights ago he woke up in the middle of the night in teething pain and as I rocked him for hours every once in awhile he would open his eyes, look at me, and start laughing.  I'm glad he found it funny.

He is extraordinarily interested in people.  Taking him to a restaurant or a store is his greatest entertainment; he will occupy himself by people watching.  Unfortunately, due to a lack of social skills, he has developed a staring problem.  Strangers don't say much other than, "Oh, what a cute little baby" but family and friends make comments like, "Uh, your baby is staring me down."   His staring is intense as evidenced by the lowered eyebrows...   

He went through a teething spell this week starting with an all-nighter Saturday.  His bottom teeth appeared one day without any sort of symptom or sign of discomfort.  The two top teeth finally broke through today (what a relief) after severe signs and symptoms of discomfort for days.  We went through an entire bottle of pain reducer trying to keep it manageable for him. In fact, the babysitter became so desperate she gave him a pickle to chew on (he refuses teething rings).  He loved it and came home yesterday and today smelling like dill brine.

His main loves in life are:  his cloth diapers (used as spit rags), his parents, his best friends (his babysitter and son), his aunties and uncle, himself in the mirror, being outside, music, and food. He loves to eat so much he would eat all day if we let him.  Unfortunately his babysitter lets him.  He tantrums in his high chair unless eating.  He cannot handle himself if we are eating something different than he is.  How does he know already?  He demands to drink out of our cups (L's fault) and reaches for anything he sees go into our mouths.  One of his favorite toys is his spoon, occupying himself by feeding himself air.  

He still likes music and music videos.  His favorite song right now is actually one I sing him--sung to the tune of Henry the VIIIth.  I come up with stupid rhymes relevant to what we are doing and he LOVES it.  His favorite popular song is "It'll All Get Better With Time" by Leona Lewis.  His favorite rock song is Metallica's "The Day That Never Comes."  His favorite country song is a tie between three:  Heidi Newfield's "Johnny and June, Brad Paisley's "Waiting On A Woman," and "Love Story" by Taylor Swift.  It surprised me that he started liking rock and alternative which he started out not liking much of.  We played him Elvis's "Jailhouse Rock" on the day he wore this outfit and he squealed in delight so I've made plans to download a bunch of Elvis and play it on a day we are home together.

He is loving.  He gives open mouthed kisses and still loves to be held.  Even though he has a mind of his own, he is not independent at all.  He wants to go everywhere I go in the house and is not content to play/occupy himself even for a few minutes.  As long as I am there with him he can play/occupy himself.  One of his favorite things right now is to sit by me when I fold laundry and play with a toy while intermittently pulling things off the folded laundry pile.  

The only other trick he has is giving me a high five.  He refuses to clap despite my efforts launched a few hours after he was born.  

Being A Client For A Change

Here is a link to a recent news story about a law enforcement training called Crisis Intervention Team I participate in twice yearly. The purpose of the training is to teach empathy to law enforcement so they can interact more appropriately with those suffering with mental illness in order to have non-violent outcomes and to link needy people to community supports and services. This program has had wonderful results across the nation with a reduction of arrests, a reduction of violence, and a reduction of inappropriate placements into jail.

Last year I was thrown to the ground and handcuffed during one of our scenarios. I began writhing on the ground not to resist but because the knee slammed into my back really hurt. As a result of my violent arrest I sustained injuries: a five inch scratch on my back which took weeks to heal (and scarred for months) and several scrapes and bruises. My eyes were opened to how law enforcement interacts with mentally ill community members (I wondered, who should we really be afraid of...?) and I was able to provide redirection and feedback about a more appropriate response and suggest conflict resolution techniques. Though not arrested this year, I was still able to teach the officers how to best react in high stress/chaotic situations for optimal outcomes. The officers said the skills they learned give them more confidence in the field. Now that's a community in which I want to live!

Sadly, I am blocked by a rafter in the part of the clip I am in.

It's Official

My resignation was announced at staff meeting today. I haven't decided if my last day will be Christmas Eve or New Year's Eve yet but I will be done for sure by January 1, 2009.

I'm pretty excited but worried and scared and sad too.

I am excited for the following reasons:

-No more neck strains due to nodding for nine hours per day (my colleague was called a bobble head the other day)

-No more packing Baby's diaper bag each Sunday night, inevitably I forget one crucial item each week and when the babysitter points it out I feel like the world's worst mother

-No more 10:30 pm bedtimes

-No more waking Baby up at 7:00 am

-No more fighting traffic

-No more snowy icy stressful commutes

-No more crisis phone calls

-No more stinky clients

-Free time (maybe this just exists in my imagination of what stay-at-home motherhood is)

-Naps

-Reading books

-A clean house

-Hobbies

-Grocery shopping outside of Saturdays and rush hour (between the hours of 5:30-6:30 pm)

-Attending Baby's well checks

-Administering to Baby's needs

-Feeding Baby how I want to feed him

-Knowing that Baby is as safe as I can make him

-The El.len Deg.eres Show

-Volunteering

-Cooking elaborate meals

I am worried and scared for the following reasons:

-The economy is bad and is this the best time to quit a job?

-I have had a job since I was 15 years-old

-I get bored and depressed very easily when I have the option of watching television all day every day (although, we did get Ti.vo the other day and that has dramatically increased my overall life satisfaction by at least 25%)

-When I get bored I like to spend money on shoes...a lot of money on shoes

-I am not convinced that I am cut out to be a stay-at-home mom

-I am most social at my job. I tend to be an introvert in other social environments

I am sad for this one reason: I love being a therapist. I knew I wanted to be a therapist when I read There's A Boy in the Girl's Bathroom in the fifth grade. I have worked hard to get here. I love my job. I love my co-workers. I love my clients. I really really love my clients. I am good at being a therapist.

As a result of helping many people find meaning in a dreary world and in dreary circumstances I have found more meaning, happiness, and fulfillment than I could have ever imagined for myself. I am proud of the therapist I have become and I am proud of the work I have done. Seeing that go is like walking away from Baby every morning at the baby sitter's...

CHS get to it! M-O-V-E, move it

This is my Canby Cougar Football outfit that my Grandma Debi got me.  Go Cougars!  How are they doing this year Grandpa?

H dog laughing

Don't You Wish Your Baby Was Cute Like Me?

This is the first thing I bought Baby after I found out I was prego.  I waited a whole year to have him wear it.  It's cute, huh?