I didn't get a lick of stats done today. As soon as I got done with my last post and got my books in order and my Pandora station set, my husband came in to me and whispered that our bathroom sink was leaking and that it had been for a number of days. Hobbling and hopping, only I could see what was needed to be saved. Bending was rough and painful. I cleaned it then helped my husband clean up the watery mess. Somehow over the course of the past 10 years I never bothered with cleaning under that sink. It was a catch-all for pageant make-up, awards, 50 bottles of nail polish and soaps. How did I get two sets of hot rollers in the mess? My hair is wild and I don't try to tame it so I don't use them.
I lifted the mess and hurt myself again when I got outside. (I do not identify with my present back situation but it has to be worked around.)
After that I lay down on an electric blanket and took some pain killers. I got up and made dinner (my husband was trying to get my Diva running) and got the kids fed. (I have discovered uncooked tortillas-- I love cooking with them and the kids like it, too.) After dinner. . . the washing machine broke. If we can' get it working, we'll have to bag up the clothes and go wash them all at a laundromat.
Is this a sign from God to get out and give up on my degree or a test to see how persevering I am? Everything is normal, no big deal, we can handle it.
I'm listening to Barry Manilow right now-- I'm chillin'!
Calamity Jane has listened to k.d. lang and loves he and I am getting some of her CD's this week. She started belting out Honky Tonk Angels, then they took it off youtube, but she likes some of her other work. Not bad for a six year old!
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Getting into It. . .
I am at my kitchen table with the kids. Mudd, 5, heard me comment about math and numbers. Well, he is good with numbers so he has taken out his Dominoes and Tantrix games and put them on the floor, offering to help me, showing me that he knows a lot of numbers. "See? Fiffy-five! And this is thritty-three!" Darrin came in and asked what he was doing and he said, "I'm helping Mom with math. Now she knows numbers!"
The older kids are playing a game at the other end of the table with. . . Cloud and Basil in the kitchen fighting. Basil just splashed Cloud with dirty dish washer. Will I really look back as these being the good old days or will my selective memory kick in?
My hips and lower back are driving me crazy. Darrin said I was crying in my sleep. Calling doctors is silly-- they send you in for x-rays then give you mega doses of Advil and muscle relaxants. The bill at 20% is around $200 for all they do and I cannot afford it. I think the cold is having an effect on this. It's really my pelvic bones giving me Hell. They never fuse; they are always flexible and when I move they also move. My husband said I was doing yoga positions laying down and rolling over by grabbing the other side of the mattress and pulling or using my upper arms to pull my body up on my pillow. (I'm glad to see that my CNA training went into my core. I'd show patients to do this when they had weak backs.)
Anyway, back to work. Laying down is not comfortable so I'm in good shape to be sitting perched at the table. Standing is also not nice. A perfect day to study!
The older kids are playing a game at the other end of the table with. . . Cloud and Basil in the kitchen fighting. Basil just splashed Cloud with dirty dish washer. Will I really look back as these being the good old days or will my selective memory kick in?
My hips and lower back are driving me crazy. Darrin said I was crying in my sleep. Calling doctors is silly-- they send you in for x-rays then give you mega doses of Advil and muscle relaxants. The bill at 20% is around $200 for all they do and I cannot afford it. I think the cold is having an effect on this. It's really my pelvic bones giving me Hell. They never fuse; they are always flexible and when I move they also move. My husband said I was doing yoga positions laying down and rolling over by grabbing the other side of the mattress and pulling or using my upper arms to pull my body up on my pillow. (I'm glad to see that my CNA training went into my core. I'd show patients to do this when they had weak backs.)
Anyway, back to work. Laying down is not comfortable so I'm in good shape to be sitting perched at the table. Standing is also not nice. A perfect day to study!
A Little Concentration Goes a Long Way
Today with time to focus and study, I got through most of a statistics chapter. I'm doing pretty well at it. I've not been able to concentrate like this in years. Like seriously, since 5th grade. I handed my husband my cell phone so no one but my mom or kids could call me and I communed with my numbers. It makes sense-- I don't know why I have such a hard time with it.
Darrin is awesome-- he is so patient with me. I have been building up in stress to this (Ropi, you and all of Hungary laugh at me!) and just been on the verge of panic for the last month, feeling like the sky would turn to stone and cave in on me. It won't. I kept saying, "I need to do my stats!" then curl up in bed and sleep. This wasn't lazy-- lazy means I go sketch or call my mom, or I procrastinate and do laundry or clean the garage. There are THREE stress reactions. While most people go into fight or flight, I fall asleep. Today I hurt so much, and for the past few days I have been hurting and couldn't sleep. I never thought I would be happy with a sore back!
I made the kids play with Legos and their puppets (quietly, but Mudd gave the princess puppet a light saber and calls her Princes Leah! Today she fought with a pig a few times, then Darrirn read them a story to act out, building Lego structures to go with it. Most of the kids are not feeling well so I wiped off the Legos with bleach water.
Tomorrow I plunge again. I expect to not do well on the test, but it's a mid term. It's OK, then I will wrap up my biology class but mid February and have the rest of the semester to work alone on statistics.
Did I really think I could do med school? I was crying about it today and DARRIN called my mom to have her talk to me and she said, "You can do anything you set your mind to! The problem is, you can't set your mind to anything that requires concentration for more than a half hour most of the time." Life is crazy-- I can't drop off and pick up where I was last thinking. It's so frustrating, but it's not about spazzing out... it's about staying as focused as I am able.
Sometimes I want to divorce Darrin-- in the forefront of my mind, I sometimes feel like he impregnated me six times when I already had 3 kids, so it's his fault that I am so strung out. (I could have also done the operation.) The problem is not the number of children; it's the dynamics that they all go through. Cloud and Basil have been fighting non stop for the past month-- she is almost 13, he is almost 10. This will last for a few years off and on. These two can be worst enemies one moment, then best friends defending each other the next. (They do a lot of push-ups for the things they do to each other and have started facing off and clapping between push-ups.) Anyone with 2 kids knows they will fight. The 3 tiny ones sing obnoxious songs and giggle, then Mudd antagonizes the girls and chases them through the house with a toy alligator! I fortunately see the humor in the midst of it, but dang-- can't I have a week-long divorce where I go to Vermont alone to cross country ski and hike? This nice thing is that when things are great and everyone is getting along I am also "blaming" him.
We have 9 great kids total-- the eldest 2 so far who he got through the hard math classes and the science classes, I sure couldn't have tutored them. They are surely better people for him. On days like today, I remember that he tirelessly works his tail off to support us, believes in what I want to write about, encourages me to write, calmly tells me to get back to work (OK, he sometimes yells and gives me bulgy eyes when I don't concentrate when he sits with me and helps me, but can you blame him?) on my stats, and he says when I get it, "Do you see? You told me you'd never get this an hour ago. Now you have it!" I caught him in a mistake today and he kissed me for it. I cry because I feel like I am doomed, then I "get it" and I cry because I got it. Thank a loving God that I only need one stats class!
Darrin is awesome-- he is so patient with me. I have been building up in stress to this (Ropi, you and all of Hungary laugh at me!) and just been on the verge of panic for the last month, feeling like the sky would turn to stone and cave in on me. It won't. I kept saying, "I need to do my stats!" then curl up in bed and sleep. This wasn't lazy-- lazy means I go sketch or call my mom, or I procrastinate and do laundry or clean the garage. There are THREE stress reactions. While most people go into fight or flight, I fall asleep. Today I hurt so much, and for the past few days I have been hurting and couldn't sleep. I never thought I would be happy with a sore back!
I made the kids play with Legos and their puppets (quietly, but Mudd gave the princess puppet a light saber and calls her Princes Leah! Today she fought with a pig a few times, then Darrirn read them a story to act out, building Lego structures to go with it. Most of the kids are not feeling well so I wiped off the Legos with bleach water.
Tomorrow I plunge again. I expect to not do well on the test, but it's a mid term. It's OK, then I will wrap up my biology class but mid February and have the rest of the semester to work alone on statistics.
Did I really think I could do med school? I was crying about it today and DARRIN called my mom to have her talk to me and she said, "You can do anything you set your mind to! The problem is, you can't set your mind to anything that requires concentration for more than a half hour most of the time." Life is crazy-- I can't drop off and pick up where I was last thinking. It's so frustrating, but it's not about spazzing out... it's about staying as focused as I am able.
Sometimes I want to divorce Darrin-- in the forefront of my mind, I sometimes feel like he impregnated me six times when I already had 3 kids, so it's his fault that I am so strung out. (I could have also done the operation.) The problem is not the number of children; it's the dynamics that they all go through. Cloud and Basil have been fighting non stop for the past month-- she is almost 13, he is almost 10. This will last for a few years off and on. These two can be worst enemies one moment, then best friends defending each other the next. (They do a lot of push-ups for the things they do to each other and have started facing off and clapping between push-ups.) Anyone with 2 kids knows they will fight. The 3 tiny ones sing obnoxious songs and giggle, then Mudd antagonizes the girls and chases them through the house with a toy alligator! I fortunately see the humor in the midst of it, but dang-- can't I have a week-long divorce where I go to Vermont alone to cross country ski and hike? This nice thing is that when things are great and everyone is getting along I am also "blaming" him.
We have 9 great kids total-- the eldest 2 so far who he got through the hard math classes and the science classes, I sure couldn't have tutored them. They are surely better people for him. On days like today, I remember that he tirelessly works his tail off to support us, believes in what I want to write about, encourages me to write, calmly tells me to get back to work (OK, he sometimes yells and gives me bulgy eyes when I don't concentrate when he sits with me and helps me, but can you blame him?) on my stats, and he says when I get it, "Do you see? You told me you'd never get this an hour ago. Now you have it!" I caught him in a mistake today and he kissed me for it. I cry because I feel like I am doomed, then I "get it" and I cry because I got it. Thank a loving God that I only need one stats class!
Saturday, January 03, 2009
"Are Mushrooms Kosher?" Random Thoughts While Doing Statistics
Today I am prepping for a stats test. I had to take an incomplete in it. The Temperamental Diva isn't running so I cannot say that my children had to be taken any place. They did, and I had to listen to them complain. My husband had to do some other running around and then got home and didn't want to go any place unless it was here.
I had to do my school work. While sitting here I have been yelled at by a very good husband who realizes that when my dad told him I would drain his patience, he wasn't joking. I resist so much, but I like it once I get into it. As I have studied, my husband has growled at me because of how my mind resists working. I have been working and just said whatever was in my mind, "Are mushrooms kosher?" "Can we assign an x variable to my thoughts?" Finally I just had to look up and he said, "TEA! GET TO WORK!"
If I like a topic, I practically teach the class. If I do not, I am a drain on my professors. I like statistics. As soon as I put the kids down for mandatory naps (including the older kids) I got things done.
My back is killing me. The weather is bad. I think I do better when resisting the pain. I tried laying down on our bed but every time I got up, pain shot through my back and legs. I have to sit at the table. I made stuffed peppers for dinner. I am doing it again. . .
Now I must get back to my work.
I had to do my school work. While sitting here I have been yelled at by a very good husband who realizes that when my dad told him I would drain his patience, he wasn't joking. I resist so much, but I like it once I get into it. As I have studied, my husband has growled at me because of how my mind resists working. I have been working and just said whatever was in my mind, "Are mushrooms kosher?" "Can we assign an x variable to my thoughts?" Finally I just had to look up and he said, "TEA! GET TO WORK!"
If I like a topic, I practically teach the class. If I do not, I am a drain on my professors. I like statistics. As soon as I put the kids down for mandatory naps (including the older kids) I got things done.
My back is killing me. The weather is bad. I think I do better when resisting the pain. I tried laying down on our bed but every time I got up, pain shot through my back and legs. I have to sit at the table. I made stuffed peppers for dinner. I am doing it again. . .
Now I must get back to my work.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
The Joy of Writing Bad Sex, Coming Home, Sending Horses to an Indoor Arena, Corsets, etc.
I came home to find sick kids. Last night my husband did not have a good time. After I left something emphatically hit a few of the kids and they were in bed or asleep on the couch. They are fine but sleeping a lot.
I threw out my back while straightening up Danille's tack room. Not wanting her to know, I didn't get aspirin at her place and kept up massaging her. Anything I feel with my back is minor. My back pain is an 8 and will be an 8 for a few days, but hers will be at a 10 until the cold snap is over and will probably take several more days for her to recover. Her husband and kids came home when I found out that if they signed the contract early that they could get her horses in to an indoor arena for a couple of months. He'd been wanting to do this but she didn't like being far from her equine babies! They will only be a few miles away but women and their horses have a pretty strong bond. He wanted to get them over before Danille changed her mind and he was too happy to get back early.
With my back hurting but me still doing what I was asked to do, I was taking extreme care of it. I don't bend, I swoop, using my legs. Danille thought this was great, "Honey, watch Tea! She has perfect posture when she shovels manure!" I couldn't even grimace as I chipped manure to demonstrate my perfect posture lest they catch on! She knew that I'd gone to finishing school when we were in high school and she was laughing, "I can't believe how you are so perfect in negative weather!" Perfect in negative weather-- ah, that's me!
I corset, so swooping without bending is something that I have learned to do when laced up. Last year I was going to get surgery because birthing 9 kids took a toll on my bladder control. Six weeks after starting to tight lace, I didn't need the surgery that was to sling my bladder up. Swooping without bending my back for 6 weeks did more for me than doing over a million Kegals over the previous 10 years. I look atthat surgery that I was to get and I am flabbergasted that in the time it takes to recover from the surgery, I solved the problem with a corset! Aside from me having zero recovery time, it cost way less than the surgery would have cost, too!
Steve at On the Slow Train sent me to Eudaemonia's article on writing about sex. This was helpful. She also directed her readers to Elizabeth Benedict's Joy of Writing Sex. Before I go any further I am going to buy this book next week.
I threw out my back while straightening up Danille's tack room. Not wanting her to know, I didn't get aspirin at her place and kept up massaging her. Anything I feel with my back is minor. My back pain is an 8 and will be an 8 for a few days, but hers will be at a 10 until the cold snap is over and will probably take several more days for her to recover. Her husband and kids came home when I found out that if they signed the contract early that they could get her horses in to an indoor arena for a couple of months. He'd been wanting to do this but she didn't like being far from her equine babies! They will only be a few miles away but women and their horses have a pretty strong bond. He wanted to get them over before Danille changed her mind and he was too happy to get back early.
With my back hurting but me still doing what I was asked to do, I was taking extreme care of it. I don't bend, I swoop, using my legs. Danille thought this was great, "Honey, watch Tea! She has perfect posture when she shovels manure!" I couldn't even grimace as I chipped manure to demonstrate my perfect posture lest they catch on! She knew that I'd gone to finishing school when we were in high school and she was laughing, "I can't believe how you are so perfect in negative weather!" Perfect in negative weather-- ah, that's me!
I corset, so swooping without bending is something that I have learned to do when laced up. Last year I was going to get surgery because birthing 9 kids took a toll on my bladder control. Six weeks after starting to tight lace, I didn't need the surgery that was to sling my bladder up. Swooping without bending my back for 6 weeks did more for me than doing over a million Kegals over the previous 10 years. I look atthat surgery that I was to get and I am flabbergasted that in the time it takes to recover from the surgery, I solved the problem with a corset! Aside from me having zero recovery time, it cost way less than the surgery would have cost, too!
Steve at On the Slow Train sent me to Eudaemonia's article on writing about sex. This was helpful. She also directed her readers to Elizabeth Benedict's Joy of Writing Sex. Before I go any further I am going to buy this book next week.
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