Month: October 2010

Space of calm

I’ve never been to a therapist. This is not because I am superhuman in my ability to process emotions. I have simply been extraordinarily blessed to have people in my life who know how to help me as I sort things. On Monday one of these wonderful people spotted and poked into a pocket of emotion that I’d been hiding from everyone, most especially myself. Her question prompted me to admit out loud that the last two months have been really hard on me. No matter how my life compares to others, despite the fact that I chose my challenges, no matter how I think I should feel, the truth of the matter is that my emotional experience since August has been a hard one. Only now that things are beginning to settle am I able to sort my experiences.

Reorganizing a room always makes a mess before it looks better. Reorganizing a brain is no different. So yesterday and today were messy. My friend helped me pull out my sad thoughts. Another friend helped me examine them. Then prayer and inspiration helped me get rid of the clutter and find new places for the things I still need. The process was good. I’m glad I went through it, but I am also glad that today’s primary theme was calmness. An organized room feels much more spacious than a messy one. My brain and heart have more room in them today.

Very short update

Yesterday was long and full of things to think about. Today was long and full of things to think about with the added bonus of a trip to the emergency room to take pictures of the bones in Patch’s arm, which is thankfully not broken. I’m a bit wrung out. Here’s hoping that tomorrow can be less full.

Tasks and Priorities

Church is a contemplative time for me. I do my best to listen to the lessons and talks, but my mind often wanders about doing the mental equivalent of picking up clutter and putting it away. Today I spent most of church sitting with my planner open in my lap. As my mind tidied up, I wrote notes and my to do lists for this week got ever longer. When I noticed this phenomenon, I was temped to snap my planner shut. In the end I realized that it was better to have the to dos pinned neatly to a page than to have them floating loose in my brain as clutter.

The topic for Sunday School was living a life of faith in Christ. The topic led one recently divorce mother to ask for advice as to how to devote her life to Christ when her days are full of laundry, carpooling, and making kids practice the violin. Her question zipped into the middle of my newly tidy mind and bounced around. It is a very good question, one I have had to resolve for myself on multiple occasions. How does my life, as I am currently living it, fit with what I believe about eternity? This question remains the same no matter how many times I ask it of myself, but my answers change as my life shifts.

At the moment my life is a combination of mundane tasks and frightening challenges. It is easier to see where the challenges fit into the larger picture of my life. I am learning new things, growing in ways that are sometimes painful. Since the challenges are frightening, I seek more for divine guidance to make sure that my steps are headed the right direction. The challenges are daunting, but it is very clear to me that they are important. The mundane tasks are different. They simply exist and often oppress me. This is when the question comes in handy, because it forces me to look closely at my mundane things. I have to look for connections and hidden eternal purposes. All of the cooking, homework help, and carpooling I do for my kids is truly aimed at helping them grow. Nothing could be more eternally important than that. The cleaning I do provides order and space for happiness to reside. Some of my most mundane chores have vital eternal purposes if I just take the time to look for them. When I am aware of those connections and purposes, then my daily tasks can become acts of devotion and love.

Of course the actual practice of this theory is somewhat more difficult. My brain never seems to be able to hold it for very long, which is why I have to re-ask the question and discover it all again. Then I go back to the lists that I carefully compiled during church and I shift things around. Now the task order more closely represents what is important in my life right now. If I can just keep that up, then my life will be just what it should be.

New website and the frog of doom

Some part of my brain appears to believe that the success of Schlock Mercenary is somehow a fluke which is constantly teetering on the edge of disaster. When I poke this part of my brain and say “Really? After supporting us for four years?” It mutters at me and continues to sit there sullenly like a lumpish frog, ready to flood my mind with fearful thoughts whenever we come across a shift or a glitch. It is an odd quirk of belief that I am completely convinced that what Howard does is brilliant and amazing, but this frog piece of my brain continues to be fearful about money. I think the frog part of my brain must be best buds with the financial squirrel in my brain because the frog shuts up when the squirrel is fat and happy.

We swapped over to the new Schlock Mercenary site architecture today. The switch was long overdue. It was overdue last Fall when we decided to make it a priority. The old architecture had gotten to the point where our server guys had to wallop it with a virtual wrench on a regular basis. Unfortunately building the right architecture was a long learning process for both us and the fantastic development team we elected to work with. It took far longer than any of us wanted. A year later, today, we finally launched. The launch made today scattered. Howard and I monitored twitter, email, facebook, and blog comments for bug reports. There were bugs reported and bugs fixed. In the space between the reports and the fixes, the frog in my brain was quite loud. He has this neat trick of twisting the bottom out of my stomach so it feels as if I’m plummeting. I hate that part. We expected the bugs. We knew there would be things to fix. There always are with new systems. Yet my stomach kept reacting as if we were doomed. (Or rather DOOOMED, spoken with a deep resonant croak.)

The frog doesn’t always have his say. My life is filled with troubles and reverses that don’t trigger the croak of doom. The key difference is whether I know how to fix the problem. If I do, the the problem is merely a task. If I don’t, then “doom” croaks the frog. The frog was on a hair trigger all day because website coding is deep in the territory of things that I don’t know how to fix. Fortunately none of today’s problems were mine to solve. All I had to do was muffle the frog and wait for Howard and the development team to do their jobs. There are still things to fix, but they are mostly minor and cosmetic. The comic is there, the blog is there, the archive is there, and they are all updating. This is good. Even better is having this big shift behind us instead of ahead. Now in need to find that virtual wrench and go wallop an imaginary frog.

Time to get to work

Sometimes people approach Howard and I to ask our advice on starting up and running a small business. Our responses vary depending upon the particulars of the person asking, but we always caution them to pick a failure point. This is a defined set of circumstances under which it is time to give up and do something else. No one wants to contemplate failure when they are the shiny, exciting end of a new business venture, but without a defined failure point a failing business can sink the person or family as well. We know too many small business owners who completely bankrupted themselves and their friends trying to keep a business alive through force of will. A thriving business is always work, but it should not be a constant scramble.

That last point had me worried earlier this week. Very often lately it feels like our business has been full of scrambling. So Howard and I sat down and had an overdue conversation about the current state of the business with a specific emphasis on what we will do if sales decline from where we are. Obviously we hope for the reverse, but the conversation was very important to have. It also gave us a chance to throw all our business fears into a communal pile rather than each of us keeping a separate stash. That too was distinctly unpleasant and it took us a couple of days to shake it off. The thing is, all evidence suggests that our business is thriving despite currently being in something of an ebb. This is happy, but we are aware of the fragility of what we have built. Right now we have a little organism. We’d like to have an ecosystem with multiple organisms. We want there to be the comic, but also Howard wants to write prose novels. I want to write books. We want to spread out our sources of income so that we do not have to panic at the thought of losing one.

What this means on a day to day basis is a careful rescheduling of our time. We need to retain the hobbies and leisure which bring us joy, but trade in all the mindless time-killing activities. We’ll trade the latter for work which will hopefully bring new organisms into our financial ecosystem. This means it is time for writing and revision to fit back into my days. Now I just need to figure out how.

An outing to Cornbelly’s Maze

“So when are we going to go to the corn maze?” Link asked. It was a long familiar question as it had been asked periodically and with increasing frequency since the beginning of September. Today I finally had an answer the kids liked.
“Today. As soon as chores are done.” Chores got done quickly.

The local Cornbelly Maze is a field of corn planted in a maze pattern. Visitors are invited to get lost amongst the stalks. These days there is far more going on than just the maze. A whole fair of games and activities are set up around the entrance and after dark be-costumed spooks haunt the maze and some of the other attractions. We did not go during haunted hours. They are more expensive and some of our kids are too young to appreciate a good scare.

There is always a moment at the beginning of a family outing when I wonder if it was a good idea. We’d just arrived, passing the solid block of construction traffic on the other side of the freeway, giving us a clear picture of how fun the return trip would not be. Gleek wanted to wait in line for jumping pillows. Kiki and Link wanted to be turned loose. I realized that I’d forgotten to bring the third cell phone so I was uncomfortable letting them loose in this unfamiliar place. It all felt chaotic and crowded. Within an hour we had all settled in, and fun was had.

Most of the time Howard does not come along on these activity jaunts to public places. Crowds and chaos wear on him. However, on the day I asked who would be interested in going to the corn maze this year, his half-sheepish hand joined the others in the air. Having two adults meant we could split into two groups. This proved to be a good thing. We regrouped and split up several times during the course of our stay. The process was greatly simplified by cellphones. I love cellphones for the simple reduction of stress in crowded places. At one point Patch was not where we expected him to be. Howard was able to call me the moment he was found.

Many of the games were sponsored. Gleek’s favorite was the river chute where kids could pan for gemstones like miners searching for gold. A booth nearby sold little bags of gem-filled mud, but Gleek discovered that small shards of gems were present in the small gravel at the bottom of the water chute. Hers was a true treasure hunt, finding chips of blue, green, and yellow in the dross that others threw away. She carefully put them in her pocket to bring home.

Gleek also collected cobs of dried corn from the stalks as we wandered through the maze. She had an armful before we were done. At first she offered them to all the people we passed. She wanted to share her treasure, but either these folk already had their own corn or they weren’t interested in carrying corn. Failing to give the corn away, Gleek tried using cobs of corn to mark our winding path through the maze. Link was our guide, since he’d gone through the maze previously. We wended our way through some loops and found Gleek’s corn marker again, at which point Gleek lost faith in her brother’s directional sense and began to feel truly lost. She began picking off kernels of corn as we walked leaving a little trail. This tactic would have been more effective if all the paths were not already littered with corn kernels. We found our way out, but Gleek enjoyed picking off the kernels so much that she did not stop until she had a bare cob.

A couple of our neighbors were also there. This added an extra layer of fun for my two youngest kids because they had familiar friends with which to play. It was fun for me too. I got brief moments of visiting and we were able to re-group kids according to interest. Co-operative parenting makes many things easier. It fell to my lot to accompany Gleek, Patch, and Bestfriend through an inflatable monster. It was a winding path, designed to be dark and ominous. Bestfriend and Patch were both interested and intrigued by the thumping heartbeat and the staccato drums. Gleek did not like it at all. I put a hand on her back and guided us through by the light of my cell phone.

The evening ended with everyone selecting a last thing. Patch and Link went off to jump. Gleek found the princess playground where she danced on a stage, climbed atop a sparkling horse, and wore a princess dress. Kiki elected to sit on a bench with me and finish off the last of the french fries. We agreed that we were both quite hungry and more fried sounded very appealing. Unfortunately the food prices were what one might expect at a fair and so we remained wistful. However Kiki and I were able to entertain ourselves by watching the guy across from us who was a dead ringer for Waldo from the Where’s Waldo books. All he needed was a striped shirt and a backpack.

I expected crankiness and squabbling from kids on the way home, but there was none. They all sat quietly, watching out the windows as we wended our way home on back roads. It took us almost an hour to arrive home, but it was much prettier than being parked in the mess on the freeway. Everyone agreed that the outing was a complete success. We capped it with an episode of Mythbusters and all the kids went to bed happy.

Sugar and Halloween

At the beginning of the school year I made some adjustments to our family diet with the primary aim of reducing Gleek’s sugar intake. The core of plan was effective, we all eat less sugar now. The structure of the plan has taken a beating, so we’ve adjusted. Instead of having sugar free days we’ve shifted to limiting sweet treats to afternoon hours. This week I made another adjustment, I’ve started requiring Gleek to eat protein at breakfast and first thing after school. The idea is to help her have a steady supply of energy rather than a spike and crash. A side benefit of the plan is that my attention to food has us all eating healthier.

A huge stumbling block in my sugar-reduction plan looms on the horizon. Halloween is the most massive sugar-fest of the year. My kids love Halloween. I love Halloween. We will not be abstaining, but I believe that there are many things I can do to alleviate the net sugar impact. We’ll be giving out small prizes instead of candy this year. This will prevent us from having a bowl full of temptation in the front room. I’ll also be instituting the candy buy back where I trade money for sugar. Beyond that, we’ll just weather whatever cranky storms come our way. The holiday is worth the ride I think.

As good as I can be today

I was catching up on last night’s episode of Dancing with the Stars when Jennifer Grey (of Dirty Dancing) said something that resonated for me so strongly that I had to re-watch that segment to hear it again. Jennifer was asked why she was so committed to her performances, what was driving her. She answered:
“Just to be as good as I can be today. That’s it. I just really, really want to be my best and show myself what I can still do or never knew I could do.”

Moments like that are why I find the show worth watching. They are the times when I can see that someone has dared to do something new even though it scared them. Jennifer’s determination shows, she is holding nothing back when she dances. That energy makes her far more fun to watch than the technical perfection of the professionals-only dances. Jennifer may or may not win the competition, but she really has already won.

Now I just need to drill the thought into my skull so that I can remember it on a day when I’m afraid to try, or on a day when I’ve dared to try and failed.

Acquiring a Cat

Our part-time cat has become a full-time cat. Gradually she was spending increasing amounts of time at our house instead of being at her official home. I think the other cats at that house were chasing her away from the food. The neighbors to whom she belonged are also good friends and have given us permission to begin feeding the cat. They do this with full knowledge that she’ll transfer her permanent home here. Having her around has been so good for both of my girls. Petting the cat is one of the first things Gleek does every morning and is always her first stop upon returning from school. Ditto Kiki. They spend hours outside petting her and playing with her. The concentrated cat-cuddle time has been so good for them. They are really good about using a lint roller on their clothes the moment they walk into the house and my allergies have been alright thus far. She really is the perfect cat for us. She is social and vocal (no chance Gleek will forget to feed her). She’s also self-sufficient and content to curl up in the garage at night.

I must confess that I watch the cat cuddling with longing. My allergies developed in my teens and I really miss the feel of a purring cat. I do pet her sometimes, but only with one hand and I have to immediately come inside and wash lest there be hives and wheezing. I think how nice it would be for my girls to sleep with a cat, but that is simply not to be. I will just be content that the perfect cat came to us again, even after we had to give her back. It was a long strange road, and there is every possibility that she will change her mind again, but for now she is ours.

Anime Banzai

I have a blogger’s dilemma. Yesterday I attended an anime convention with Kiki, Link, and assorted teenage friends. Conventions are always filled with tightly-packed events, a hundred small stories to tell. I want to record these stories, to tell the delightful details which demonstrate exactly how much fun my kids had at the event. The point of such an entry would be to hold the memories in words so that the event could be savored again. My problem is that their delights were not mine. Their best moments happened when I was not present. They came to me when they had problems, were bored, were worn out, or were hungry. My day consisted mostly of sitting in hallways, people watching, solving problems before they were problems, and being available. I want to tell a joyful story, but my day was interesting and full of useful service, not really full of joy.

The real problem with the convention was that I paid all the costs both in time and money, while the enjoyment was primarily theirs. This is one of the things that I do as a parent, almost without thinking about it. Most of the time their joy brings me joy. This time I’m having trouble with cost counting. All the things which got delayed so I could manage the convention for my kids are still waiting for me with increased urgency attached. I guess I have to consider it a learning experience. Next year I will not be involved in marathon last-minute sewing sessions. If kids want impressive costumes they’ll need to spend their own time, creativity, energy, and money. Next year they’ll need to pay some or all of the entrance fees themselves. These changes are not just for my benefit, but because I realized that by removing the effort from their event, I actually deprive them of important learning. They can not appreciate a hard-won prize if they never have to work. Compliments on a costume you made yourself carry much more joy than if your mother made the costume. This I think is the real source of my dissatisfaction. They had an event full of shiny excitement, but devoid of learning. It was all treats and nothing sustaining.

Fortunately for me I have wonderful and intelligent children. Both Kiki and Link thanked me multiple times for the help and support I gave. Their gratitude lasted into today when they both actively helped clean up the house. I think that they did learn things despite my efforts to remove effort from their day. In the end it was a good event for us all and while I intend to manage things a little differently next year, I still intend to support them in going.