Family

Kiki Facing Graduation

By / April 30, 2013

“It’s like someone has dumped out a big jar of marbles and right now they’re all falling in a clump, but starting to separate out. Then on graduation day all those marbles are going to hit the ground and scatter in hundreds of directions.”
–Kiki’s observations on her last month of high school

Kiki is right, we’ve hit the last free fall before her life trajectory is in her control. She’s really feeling it both in her readiness to be doing something else and in her relationships with her friends. Some of those friendships have become a bit more complicated, people who’ve been close for a long time are beginning to pull apart because they know they’ll soon be headed in different directions. Everything in her world is shifting, simultaneously picking up speed and slowing down. Most days she and I end up sitting down and talking about how things are shaking out. A friend of mine warned me about the last months of high school. She and her oldest daughter quarreled lots during the final run to graduation. I’m glad that Kiki’s emotional shifts have not manifested in a similar manner. Though I won’t be too surprised if they do at some point. It is easier to leave people you love if you create a rift first. One more month and then she’s off into her next adventure.

Interpreting Dreams

By / April 30, 2013 / 2 Comments

I am not an advocate of dream theory. Most dreams are random and fairly meaningless, but some are significant. The interpretation of these significant dreams can lead to enlightening insights, but I think that the only person qualified to interpret a dream is the one who dreamed it. This is because the dream itself may be nonsense, but our minds can pull meaning and inspiration from the shape of the nonsense.

In March I had two significant dreams. One featured an amazing house full of amazing stuff and I was going to get to live there, except everything in the house needed cleaning or repair. It was a reflection of my emotional state at that time when it felt like everything could be amazing, if only I did a lot of work first. The second dream I’m not going to share, except to say that it showed me exactly what I feared for Gleek when we were in the midst of wrestling with anxiety. Neither dream was pleasant, but contemplating them helped me understand myself and that new understanding changed the shape of things going forward in good ways.

Sometimes the entire dream is not important, just an element of it. I can tell which pieces matter, because they stay with me even after I wake up, they feel important even if I do not know why. Most of the time what matters most is the emotion of a dream rather than the events or objects in it. In my dreams I feel the things I’ve suppressed when awake.

I’m thinking about all of this because Howard had an interesting dream last night with elements that have been re-occurring over the past 20+ years. I kind of want to assign meanings for his dream, to declare that this dream object represents that life challenge, but I don’t get to. Meaning or dismissal are his to assign. I try to do the same for my kids, teaching them that while dreams can be indicators, it is what we do when awake that changes our lives for better or worse. Dreams show up, what we do with them after that is what matters.

Learning Anxiety Management

By / April 29, 2013

We sat in the therapist’s office with nothing to discuss. Three weeks and there had been no meltdowns we could talk through, no major stress episodes, no panic. It was as if the troubles ceased the moment we attempted to observe them. Whatever the reasons for the vanished anxiety, there did not seem to be much point in paying out of pocket week after week so we could sit on a leather couch with nothing to discuss. All parties agreed that perhaps therapy might be more useful again in the fall with the stresses of beginning junior high. So we walked out and cancelled the remaining appointments.

Ten minutes after arriving home Gleek shrieked and panicked because a wasp got into the house. Twenty minutes after that she saw another one outside and plunged again into fear, but channeled it better. During homework time she pulled out a familiar array of stress tactics such as whining, flopping, singing out loud, making random noises to annoy her brother, dropping pencils, and resisting the help she asked for one second previous. My job was to stay calm, expect her to get a grip on herself, and wait for her to settle down and do the work, which she eventually did.

I am left with questions about coincidence and causation. Ultimately I think that Gleek would have been alarmed by a wasp in the house whether or not we’d decided to discontinue therapy. It also makes sense that her first big panicky event would dredge up all the old tactics out of storage. Or it could be that some part of her considered the therapy sessions as a sort of safety net and discontinuing them raises her ambient level of anxiety. In which case, discontinuing is exactly what we need to do so that Gleek can practice managing her stresses and fears.

Even with the resurgence of old coping strategies, Gleek still had a better handle on herself that she would have a month ago. She faced the second wasp without shrieking. She completed her math assignment before curling into a ball under a blanket. Then when I requested that she emerge so we could plan for the remainder of her homework, she used a visualization technique to bring herself back into a planning state of mind. We’ve come quite a long way since March. Now we just need to hang tight for the next four weeks of school.

On the Day After My Sister’s Birthday

By / April 28, 2013 / 1 Comment

I was four years into the business of being alive when Nancy showed up. According to our parents’ report I claimed to like her, but actually felt quite a bit of resentment along with thinking she was cute. I was used to being the baby of a family with four kids, then I was not-the-baby in a family with five. I think it helped that Nancy offered a bribe on arriving, at least mom said the little stuffed bunny came from Nancy. As I grew older I began to have some doubts as to whether a new born really came bearing gifts for older siblings, but by then she was firmly entrenched. Thirty-ish years ago yesterday she changed my life by showing up, she didn’t choose to arrive or to give me a stuffed bunny, the gifts she has given me since are all her doing.

I wanted very much to be a good older sister. I wanted to be better at older-sistering than my older sister was, which in hindsight was the ultimate expression of sibling rivalry. I don’t think I really succeeded, because my strongest memories of being an older sister to Nancy in our early years do not shine the best light on me. She spent her years from three to seven with one of her front teeth gray. I’d pushed the shopping cart she was sitting in too vigorously. She smacked her mouth, killing the baby tooth. I also remember pushing her off the slide and on another occasion making her fetch and carry for me while I drew numberless pictures of horses. In the years since Nancy has been kind enough to forgive me of all of these things, also I did give her some of the horse pictures, so I wasn’t all bad.

Nancy is not my only sister, I have three. There are three brothers too, it was a large family, but of my siblings, Nancy is the one who has chosen to have a public identity on the internet. For the others, I respect their preference toward a low profile. That’s part of being family. Nancy and I have chosen similar paths. In my younger years I would have declared that she was copying me. I did declare that, often, yet none of my frustration, or deliberate attempts at redirection, prevented her from following a path uniquely her own. I think we were both in our twenties when we finally acknowledged the unspoken rivalry and laid it to rest. Nancy had sold a story to magazine, something I’d never accomplished. I’d written a story that made Nancy feel like her own were not adequate. We admitted our feelings and decided that perhaps the writer space belonged to neither of us and that we could both live there without stepping on each others toes. There was space for us both, arguing over it seemed silly when we were both in the trenches of early motherhood and needed to spend our energy supporting each other instead. It was a wonderful conversation, because rivals became unreserved allies.

All of this brings us to today, the day after Nancy’s birthday, when she lives in Germany and I live in Utah. We’re too far for me to bring her a treat or give her a hug. What I can give her instead is a blog post saying that I’m glad she’s here. I’m glad there is an internet that lets us keep in touch even half a world away, and to wish her all the best forever. (Even if the wishes are a day late.)

Happy Birthday Nancy!

When the Sun Comes Out

By / April 26, 2013 / 1 Comment

The phone rang and it was my friend. “I just called to see how you’re doing.” The call was a kindness from her, because she has been the person to listen many times in the past weeks when my heart was full and my eyes overflowing. This time I breathed in to answer her and realized I had nothing in particular to tell. Or rather, I did have things to tell, but they were all light in comparison with the struggles which I’ve aired in our last five conversations. I carried the phone onto the porch where the sunshine could warm my bare feet. Then we chatted about my things and hers. It is so nice to chat instead of discuss.

Kiki had a list of errands, a few last minute acquisitions that were necessary before prom tomorrow, so we went in quest of hair pins and boutonniere materials. Earlier this week I read an article stating that the average amount spent on prom is $1100. This year we’re among those bringing that average down, borrowed dress, hair and nails done at home, and using the family car instead of a rented vehicle. Kiki was quite pleased with herself when we walked in to the florist and requested a single flower and some filler so that she could make the boutonniere herself. The florist was glad to sell her the supplies, I think they were a bit tired of assembling corsages, at least based on the stacks in their glass fronted refrigerator. Including the flowers, dance tickets, dinner, and day activity, I think our total expense for prom is less than $100. Kiki has already had fun, hopefully tomorrow will bring even more.

“We need to do my history report!” Gleek told me with wide eyes just as she was departing for school.
“Yes.” I answered. “We’ll do it this weekend. Don’t worry about it.”
Gleek nodded, her shoulders relaxed, and she walked cheerfully out the door. This in sharp contrast to the science fair project where I had to coax for extended periods of time for her to believe it was possible at all. Gleek’s internal landscape has become a navigable place instead of a dark and foreboding forest. Finishing the project this weekend is going to require some hustling, particularly since Patch also has a big project, Kiki has prom, and I’m teaching at Writing for Charity. Yet even that feels possible, which says much about my internal landscape as well.

“Do you have a minute?” Howard asked. He then flipped through the test print of Body Politic, showing me places where he needs me to move strips around. These two go onto the next page so that there is room for a footnote he wants to write. That forces this one onto the page after that, which reduces the white space. Together we flipped through the book, drawing arrows and instructions. Nudging the book ever closer to being publishable. I was so very glad for this morning’s conference, we are past the point where the project feels impossible and have instead moved in to the last rush toward the end. It feels like running down hill.

My front lawn is freshly mowed for the first time this year. I took a few minutes and did the job myself instead of spending energy negotiating with children. Afterward I felt accomplished. Next Saturday I need to declare a family yard work day so that we can remove all of the tall grass from the flower beds. I begin to believe that my garden is not doomed to be a weedy mess forever.

Winter is long and sometimes spring is chilly, but then there comes a day when the sun is warm and I step outside barefoot with no jacket. I look around and realize the grass is green, flowers have begun to bloom, and spring has stopped teasing. After things were hard for what seemed like a long time, suddenly they are lovely. It is enough.

Spring Fever

By / April 23, 2013

Kiki is just a few weeks away from her high school graduation, but her brain is ready to run off to college. As she described it to me, she’ll walk into the front room and sit on the couch. Then her head fills up with thoughts like: I wonder what the couches will be like at college. Will I be the girl who is always sitting on the lobby couches and doing art? I wonder if there will be friends to sit on the couches with me. I hope those friends are nice. Then to escape the couch thoughts Kiki will step into the kitchen and be confronted with a new barrage: There are kitchens on each floor of the dorm. I wonder if we’ll have floor parties where everyone pitches together and there is yummy food. How will that work? Will other college kids no how to cook. Maybe I should learn to cook more. I don’t have any dishes, maybe I should bring some dishes. Pretty much everywhere she goes, her brain tries to jump ahead to college. This frustrates Kiki, who would like to be able to focus on finishing high school and let college get closer without constantly thinking about it. At least Kiki is self aware enough to see what is going rather than just getting quarrelsome about high school things.

Patch would also like to jump ahead to the end of school, only he is less self aware. His teacher is expressing concern that he is tuning out in class and thus missing important information he needs, like assignment details. Both the teacher and I have talked with Patch, mostly we need to corner him and require the work instead of letting him get away with sliding by. Unfortunately this means that homework times are unpleasant because Patch pulls out all the stops trying to avoid the work even though logically he knows he can’t and shouldn’t. This evening we had an extended negotiate about which work is actually due to see if some could be pushed off to a different day. Then there were tears because it was all too hard, after which he plowed through half of it with no trouble at all. Finally he manifested with a headache and general malaise which required flopping. When I did not excuse him from the work, he sat down and got rolling, cheerfully plowing through the rest of it. I find it fascinating to watch Patch’s avoidance techniques, because I see so many of them in myself when I have work I don’t want to do.

Thus far Gleek has responded toward the oncoming end of the year with a more relaxed attitude. This is good news in comparison with the stress she was carrying before. Link has exhibited renewed vigor in pursuing good grades as a result of an agreed upon incentive program.

I’m trying to take each day as it comes and make sure to notice the flowers so that they don’t bloom and vanish while I’m busy.

Glad for a Boring Work Day

By / April 22, 2013

Over the weekend both Howard and I had our eyes on today and hoped for normal. We wanted a boring work day during which nothing amazing or upsetting happened; a day when we could just put one foot in front of the other and be able to see significant progress by evening. I have now arrived at 7pm and that is the sort of day that I have had. Report from Howard’s drawing table tell a similar story. This feels like the first good work day we’ve had in weeks. I hardly dare hope that we can have two in a row, but I do hope for it.

I spent the day finishing copy edits and working layout for Cobble Stones 2012. I’ll review it tomorrow and then send it off to print. This means I’ll have copies with me at LDS Storymakers and they should be available online before that. Perhaps I’ll post the cover image tomorrow.

In family news: there isn’t much. Yay! No one had crises today, homework is being completed as I type. The kids appear to have been happy at school. At the end of the week I’ve got meetings with staff at two schools as I arrange for both Link and Gleek to transition smoothly up to the next school in line. I hope these can be routine paperwork meetings. That would be so very lovely to have a meeting where I had to haul myself all the way over just to be briefed on things I already know and to sign a paper saying that I’ve been briefed. Because the alternative is that the meetings will have new information and lately new information requires emotional management. I’ll note that this will not necessarily always be the case. Sometimes I’m interested and enlivened by new things, but in this context boring is good.

Perhaps this week we’ll finally find time to mow the lawn, fold the laundry, clean the bathrooms, and all the other things. That would be lovely.

One of These Things is Not Like the Others

By / April 17, 2013 / 1 Comment

As a kid I watched Sesame Street. Along with some really memorable songs and how to count in Spanish, the one thing has stuck with me was a type of segment where the screen was divided into four quarters and four things showed up in those quarters. The audience was invited to figure out which of these things was different from the other three. There was even a catchy tune to help everyone get in the mood to find sameness and differentness. No judgement was passed about better and worse, the differences were just noted. I was good at the game and playing it made me happy in a preschool way.

Now I’m all grown up and I have four kids, I still play that game all the time. The trouble is that depending on what parameter I pick, each kid has a chance to be the different one. This pleases the child in me who could always see how blue vs red was not the only available difference between the four fuzzy monsters on the screen. My kids are all similar and they are all different.

Homework Consequences

By / April 16, 2013 / 2 Comments

I’m sitting here typing on my laptop while my ten year old son is crying over his homework. This is not the sort of moment that gets immortalized in photos or regaled over Thanksgiving dinner. It is not a moment that makes me feel like a good mother, but it is exactly this sort of moment where I am one. My son is crying because the work he is doing is work that ought to have been done yesterday. Not only did he not do it yesterday, he implied to me that it was done. He didn’t outright lie, but through some verbal mumbling he managed to slide by without doing it. Then at school today he was not prepared and that was unpleasant. Then his teacher communicated with me and I had a talk with him about responsibility and paying attention in class. We talked about how all humans, me included, have a tendency to procrastinate and avoid work. We talked about how we have to curb that impulse in ourselves and learn to do the work anyway. We talked about carrots, sticks, and motivational plans. We decided on a point system and a reward structure. Then I declared that if any work is overdue, he is not allowed to play on a computer or video game until it is done. This last part was not news he wanted to hear. So now he is working and sniffling. I am watching, typing, and hoping that inside his head he is taking responsibility for his choices instead of ranting about how mean I am.

Snapshots of the Tayler Household Today

By / April 16, 2013 / 1 Comment

I sat on the couch next to Kiki, her legs draped across my lap as she told me about her friends. Kiki loves them and worries for them, but is not sure how to help them as they struggle. I listened to Kiki and tried to give her good advice, but mostly just to listen because the answers she finds for herself are better than any I can give. This is true for her friends too. They must find their own answers. But being the one who sees a good path, and has to wait for a loved one to stumble around blindly until they find it can be hard.

Link and Patch sat at computers side by side, Minecraft on the screens in front of them. Listening to them made little sense because the words seemed like random phrases punctuated with laughter, half the conversation was typed in text on the screens in front of them. Lately Link has been saddened by the fact that his gaming abilities far outstrip everyone else in the house. He wants to play with his little brother, but sometimes it is hard because of the skill disparity. On this day they’ve found a happy medium, a place where they can meet and have fun.

I sat with Gleek on the leather couch with the therapist across from us and we had no tales of meltdowns to share. I suppose it is good to be in that position, where most of the stress evaporates, but it does feel odd to have it happen just before the measures which were supposed to help have had a chance to affect anything. There are still things to work on, we’re not going to simply shrug and assume we were mistaken. On the other hand, the breathing space is very nice. Instead of discussing recent crisis, we talked about how it might be time for me to back off on managing Gleek’s homework. I went very hands-on while we were in the middle of the stress, it is time for me to back off again. Gleek didn’t like that idea much, she likes having a security blanket. This lets me know it is the right approach, because the point of all of this parental and therapeutic effort is to put Gleek in a position where she has the tools and strength to manage by herself. I expect it to take years, because really that is the entire developmental purpose of adolescence.

Last week Howard had diverticulitis which resolved fairly quickly with antibiotics. Unfortunately strong antibiotics have consequences of their own and these hit Howard hard yesterday. I can’t count the number of times when Howard and I have bemoaned how we just want to have an uneventful work week. Howard has a final push on the Privateer Press project, a final push on The Body Politic, and regular buffer work. We just need him to have several good work days in a row. For the moment, he’s sleeping late because, as he tweeted at 2am: “Exhaustion, dehydration, diarrhea, and insomnia: these are the four horsemen of my current apocalypse. They are very effective team players.”

Hours after the couch conversation with Kiki, just before bed, she came to my room and gave me a hug. She’d prayed for her friends and felt strongly that they would be fine. “Mom, I don’t know how anyone survives without prayer and inspiration.” I don’t know either. I know people who seek peace from other sources. I’ve seen those sources work for them, but I have to say that I’m glad to see my children choosing prayer and inspiration in times of stress. They are choosing resources that are familiar to me which means I am able to help them as they seek. It is really hard to not understand (and thus now understand how to help) someone you love when they are in pain.

I bought Talenti Sea Salt and Caramel gelato. It sits in my freezer waiting for the days when I write 1000 words of which 500 are fiction, a small treat to encourage me to write. It’s presence in my freezer demonstrates that the writing portions of my brain are ready to unfold again. The fact that it has been opened and the first serving removed is a triumph. I’ve tasted writing success for the first time in two months. It tastes of caramel.

“Can you send me some pictures of Kiki for the stylist?” the text said. So Kiki and I took some quick shots with my phone while giggling because neither of us ever pictured her getting to have the services of a stylist. Yet this is part of the package deal that comes along with getting to borrow an amazing dress for prom. The dress is being tailored to Kiki and she agrees to pose for a fashion photo shoot while wearing the dress. The dress designer has the satisfaction of seeing the dress worn more than just for a runway, the stylist has the chance to practice her art, the photographer also practices, and all of the professionals walk away with photos they can add to their portfolios. Kiki gets a dream come true experience and owes a few drawings to the dress designer. This is one of the things I love about being part of a creative community, people coming together to create something amazing just because everyone loves the idea of it.

“Gleek’s focus for the history project is not yet approved. She has some fascinating facts about East Germany, but she needs to show a specific turning point and how it changed the world.” It was not news Gleek wanted to hear, but she did not melt into a puddle of stress. Instead she and I talked through how to present various escapes over the Berlin Wall as turning points in the history of Germany. It is the escapes that fascinate her, the bravery and ingenuity of people who risked everything to change their lives, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. Once her project is approved, we’ll have a diorama to make. I’m certain that before this project is complete, Gleek will have ample opportunities to feel anxiety and manage it. So far so good.

It was time for me to drive Link to school and I heard conflict downstairs by the computers: Link’s angry voice and Patch crying. Link had gotten up from the computer to leave and Patch sat down and logged in. Using Link’s profile and password. Which Patch had memorized. It was a thing Patch had done dozens of times before, Link has been happy to share his Minecraft profile with everyone, however at that moment Link realized that he’d lost control of the profile. Patch was using it without asking. All. The. Time. Fortunately it is an easy fix. Link is right that he ought to get to control the profile he purchased with his own money. Patch is right that he needs to be able to log in without having to bother Link to type the password. After school we’ll sort it out and all will be happy in Minecraft again.

My house needs to be organized. Every room has piles in the corners. They aren’t big piles and mostly they’re full of things that sort-of belong in that room anyway, but it is cluttery. I’ve been too distracted to require chores and too tired to do it all myself. Yet on Saturday I tackled the front room. Looking around now, I’m really not sure what exactly we removed, but it is a nice place to be again. I hope in the next two weeks I can give other rooms the same treatment before the coins start to arrive and shipping begins in earnest. That will make a mess all over the house until it is done.