I was in Colorado for a week while The Man was at a conference. I had planned to take the week as a writing retreat, envisioning long hours alone while he was in meetings, but it didn't pan out that way. Instead we had long hours together between meetings, and there were some sessions I wanted to attend and there was a spa to hang out in.

So I didn't get a ton of writing done, but I did get a lot of relaxing done. And I spent a lot of time talking to my husband, and thoroughly enjoyed setting my own schedule for the day instead of having large chunks of it being dedicated to navigating the moods and whims of a three year old. I *can* get stuff done at home with TLG here, but there is a fair bit of negotiating and figuring out how to eke out some quiet time and it can take a lot out of me.

Now I am trying to bring more of that 'away' pace into my life at home. I know you can't bring your vacation back with you, but I am sure I can make things at home be a little less frantic, a little less seat-of-my-pants, a little less improv, and a little more 'this is when we do this'and "here is how we do it". Because I wonder how much of TLG's intense need for me and my attention, and his constant movement (and chatter) is fuelled by something in me. I mean, clearly, he has his own personality, and that only has so much to do with me, but I really feel that my approach to parenting him (and TB) could use some tweaking, perhaps a little more energy, a little more investment in playtime.

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2007* was a hard year for me, in totally unexpected ways. I had a lot of low-grade stress, and my brainspace was limited, which led to an utter lack of creativity for problem solving (something I am normally VERY good at). So, whenever I encountered an obstacle, instead of charting a way around it, I either hunkered down and waited for it to pass me or I dropped it where I stood and moved on to something else.

This has left me with a lot of abandoned projects and loose ends that I am not particularly proud of. But the good news is that the last three months of the year I focused on what I could do, housework and reflection. So I have a very tidy house to start 2008 in, and I have given my behaviour patterns a lot of thought and learned to forgive myself for some habits and learned how to change others. I've taken a few personality tests and examined how the results resonated with me, and I've worked my way through a few things that have caused me stress in the past.

So, despite the loose ends, I am starting 2008 in a good place. I've got a much better idea of what makes me tick. I have a clearer picture of what causes me to slip toward depression and I know how to cultivate my productivity. And I have a tidy, fairly organized house (more on that later) so a fair bit of low-level hassle has been removed from my life.

So, Welcome 2008!

Or as it is known around here : 2008: the year I write!

*Not that it was utterly without joy. I have a lot of wonderful memories from this year too.

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Okay, so after my last post, the flu descended upon this house like a plague and I am only now excavating myself from the rubble. But, BUT, I did get one very important thing done during this past two weeks.

After many years of planning to get one, I am now the proud owner of a kick-ass tattoo.

More details on why I chose the Eye of Ra will follow, but for now, I just have to say that every time I look at it I have a concrete reminder that I can use my great force of will to change my body as I see fit. Not a bad thing to be reminded of. :)

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I was worried about myself this week.

I thought I was slipping closer to the lurking depressive type cloud that has been in my peripheral vision since..., well, um, shit, I don't know, for a long time. Well, I haven't been weighed down with it every day or anything, but I feel like it has been lurking since January and when I'm not on guard it sneaks closer. And sometimes it surrounds me.

Ever since seeing a cognitive behavioural therapist a few years ago I have been very sensitive to the slip, the point at which I realize that the bad feelings are not necessarily related to the reality of events in my life. So I can usually think myself right back out of it. Eventually.

And the last couple of months I have been paying closer attention to what conditions encourage the appearance and growth of the cloud. If I don't exercise, if I overschedule myself, if I get even less rest than usual, if I don't do yoga regularly, it encourages the cloud. Doing those things keep it relatively small, or make it disappear altogether. So I've working hard to keep those things in mind when I organize my days.

For the last couple of weeks, I've also been doing some work on mindfulness meditation as a way to stave off the cloud.* And I've found it be very useful. While I recognized that my though patterns weren't healthy, and weren't useful, I hadn't quite considered that thoughts are just that, a thought in a moment, and they can be acknowledged without giving way to them. There's the mindful part, see, being in the moment, and realizing what is true and real right now, and not letting my thoughts run away with me towards things that went wrong before or might go wrong in the future.

ANYWAY, this is a very long way to explain a very short thing. The first part of this week found me feeling anxious and upset, so yesterday I meditated a little, and then made a list of things that might make me feel better. And I realized that the thing that was dragging on me was an article I needed to finish.

Like any writer, I procrastinate on projects, expecially ones that might be a bit difficult to write, and this one was hanging over me because I didn't know what approach to take. Then, last night, I forced myself to do the only think that EVER works...

Typing.

Yep, that's the secret to my genius right there, folks. Typing! Somehow I always forget that the only way out is through, and that I just need to sit at my computer and pound away at the keyboard until something useful comes out. Because it ALWAYS does. Even if I have to spend a lot of time typing everything I don't want/need to say first.

And this morning, I felt a lot better. Still not as good as I'd like, but better.

TYPE!

You heard it here first, kiddies.

*See Kabat-Zinn's The Mindful Way through Depression: Freeing yourself from Chronic Unhappiness. Although, I do not in any way characterize myself as chronically unhappy, I have found a lot of useful stuff in this book. My depression takes the form of being unable to grab hold of my own life, and feeling like I will never again get a grip on it.

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What the hell is going on with clothes? I mean seriously. I went out shopping tonight with Jan and I couldn't find a cool shirt anywhere. Everything had ruffles and shiny bits or hung like maternity clothes. And once you've worn maternity clothes for real, you NEVER want to wear anything that looks like it again.

ACK.

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Before The Man got home for supper this evening, I was joking and carrying on with the boys, and suddenly, a very tired TLG went off the rails and started crying for no reason. I scooped him up in my arms, and said 'That's it, time to zoom in for a hug.' and I zoomed him over to the couch where The Boy was lying down. I laid TLG next to his brother and put my face between both of theirs, a soft rounded toddler cheek on my left and the still soft, but solid beneath the skin, cheek of my big boy on my right. And I wrapped one arm around each of them and then richocheted a kiss back and forth from cheek to cheek.

And for those few minutes I wasn't thinking about what needed to be done next, or when The Man would be home, or if my back hurt at this angle, I was just there, immersed. And I wanted to save that moment, put it in my pocket, press it between glass, do whatever it took to keep it.

Writing it down will have to do.

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I want my kids to be different from me.

I want them to be physically active. I want them to eat healthily. I want them to be diligent and be able to follow their goals to see them through. I want them to be excited by trying new things. I want them to challenge themselves. I want them to be organized. I don't want them to be afraid of failure. I don't want them to overthink. I don't want them to skirt the edge of depression.*

But, sadly, all of these things aren't going to come about by divine intervention. Well, unless you consider ME a divine force (the jury's still out on that one). They are only going be able to do those things if I guide them, and if I lead by example. And dammit, I'm trying.

I actually feel a little guilty about trying to change myself before I try to get them on track with these particular things, but I think that my example will be the strongest influence for them. And if I am not living those things, how can I convince them to?

I'm not giving myself a long time on these changes though, it's not a 'well, someday...' sort of thing. I'm working a healthier eating plan for myself right now (and it is working!) and in a week or so, I'm starting in on them. And I've been exercising a lot more lately, which is definitely making an impression. Next step is working on my semi-fixed mindset (see Carol Dweck's book Mindset for an explanation of fixed vs growth mindsets) so I can embrace challenges more readily. AND I'm going to make my goal chart a more visible part of my day.

I know Ghandi said that 'we must be the change we want to see in the world' but I'm not ready to take on the responsibility for the whole world right now. I'll be the change I want to see in my kids. It can only end well for me too.

*This all sounds like I think I am a bad person, and I don't think that at all. I just recognize that these are some areas for improvement. :)

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Okay, so I'm not a character from a PBS Kids show, but I am super at thinking about why. And I'm trying to cut back.

Seriously, while the varied shades of grey that make up my every interaction are valuable for writing and for understanding where other people are coming from, it is also exhausting. I'm not always as effective as I would like to be because I can see too much of the other side, and I let people off the hook with things when I shouldn't - which results in me having to do a lot more than I should.

I think it is a result of being a thinky type of person, combined with anthropological training, combined with being a writer, combined with a myriad of other life experiences that leave me too finely attuned to peoples' motivations, and their pain and gives me the long view of the all the issues and mistakes that have led to this point. The problem is not so much being able to see all that, as my need to lay it all out, for myself and for the others involved. It wastes a lot of time, and doesn't always achieve very much because a lot of people don't care why, they care about what - what comes next, what do we do now?

So I am trying to scale back my whys and concentrate more on action steps. As in, yeah, that happened, it sucked - what's the first step towards making it better?

I'll concentrate on using my Superwhy powers primarily in my writing and less so in real life.

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I am not one of those people who complains about the Christmas decorations crowding out the Hallowe'en stuff*. I am, in fact, part of the problem because I LOVE Christmas, hassle and all. With Christmas, like with a lot of things, the anticipation is one of the best parts, and I like to extend the anticipation as long as possible.

That's why if you were here now, you'd find TLG watching Wiggly Wiggly Christmas. That's just stage one! I'll be digging out the Christmas music later this week, and with considerable restraint I hold off decorating until the first Saturday in December.

So if you like to contain Christmas to the time directly around the event, perhaps we best meet at your house instead of mine from now until January.

*Well, this is not strictly true. I did find it disconcerting to have bulbs and skulls on the same shelf, I would prefer that the Hallowe'en stuff disappear on November 1 and the Christmas stuff appear November 2, but I'll live.

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One of the myriad ways that I can tell that I'm married to the right man is how much I miss him when we aren't together.

As I always tell him, The Man makes things better. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, everything is a little more fun when he's around. And in 16 years we've never managed to get sick of each other, never found that point where we've spent too much time together and need a break. We just work. And I like it.

And that's not to say that we never disagree, nor that we are never upset with each other, nor that we never do things apart. All of that stuff happens, but at any given time we are more likely to be together than we are to be apart. And if my day is spinning out of control, I often just call him at work to get the aural equivalent of a few deep breaths and things feel a lot better.

A few years ago I wrote this play in which a smarmy character turned to his girlfriend (who was leaving for work) and said "Hurry back, I'm lonely for you." and it was the line that creeped everyone and that the actors mocked the most. The funny thing is, that I borrowed that line from real life. Because I do find myself lonely for my husband when I'm not with him, I'm not lonely per se, just lonely for him, because it is better when he's with me.

We went out to play Trivial Pursuit with some friends last night, and on the way we were so enjoying having an uninterrupted conversation that we joked about just going for coffee and conversation instead of joining the party. (We weren't serious - who'd miss out on a chance to play Trivial Pursuit?) After we laughed for a minute, we realized that we never get a babysitter just so we can go out and talk for a while.

Our babysitter is going to be making a fortune from now on, I think.

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I have been showing off the giant bruise on my knee to everyone I've seen the past four days. I am absurdly proud of it. Since I acquired it while defending myself (albeit during a simulated attack), it feels like a badge of honour and it makes me happy to see it.

Oddly, this is the first bruise in a long, long, long, time (i.e. my entire memory) that I've gotten as a result of action instead of by accident. I hardly ever challenge myself physically, just some moderate exercise and the endurance test that is mothering small kids. So I don't really have the opportunity to do the sorts of things that lead to bruises, or injuries. And while that is a good in one way, it is really sad in another.

I live mostly inside my head, I just use my body to propel myself through space and to keep my brain alive. I don't inhabit it fully (well, except in *some* circumstances, when it works just fine, thankyouverymuch) and I don't ever push its limits. In fact I have difficulty when exercises suggest that I do something until I am 'fatigued' because I can't tell when I am just sick of exercising or when I am genuinely fatigued.

This is not good for me, and it is not good for my brain (the more I exercise the less vulnerable I am to feeling depressed) and I need to change that.

That's why I am getting the lovely and talented Mike* to help me develop a set of goals and challenges for myself so I can push some limits and really use this body of mine before it no longer works the way I want it to.

*Mike's my personal trainer, and he *is* both lovely and talented. If you need a trainer and you live near me, let me know and I'll tell you how to find him. |

There have only been two times in my life that I have felt physically powerful. One was the day I gave birth, the other was when I dropped a 200lb man twice during my self-defense class the other night.

The class was both awesome and frightening.

It was fantastic to be doing something so physical and be good at it, and have it be so practical - if someone grabs me I will not be helpless, there are things I can do to protect myself. The whole class was hands-on, learning technique after technique for different scenarios. Then at the end we put it all together by stepping on the mat one woman at a time and an instructor came menacingly towards us and tried to get us down onto the mat, we had to hit him in strategic places a number of times (until a real attacker would be incapacitated).

I was overcome with emotion at points. We started out with standing work,and went on to moves where we were on our backs and the instructors were above us. I was first in the group working with our instructor and I was fine, but when I had to look down at the mat to see my friends in that position and I couldn't help, I freaked out and had to leave the room. It just churned up every time I've been helpless in my life because I was smaller, or weaker, and every time that being female meant I could be in danger. I got over that first bit rather quickly and steeled myself for the rest of the class.

But when we got to the one on one fights at the end, I was overcome again. Then I had to do battle with being overcome by emotion AND being annoyed at being misunderstood because everyone assumed I was afraid to get hurt, or afraid to hurt someone and that just wasn't the case. And the female instructor who followed me out of the room was encouraging me to go back in and told me how empowering it would and so on and so on, but I had every intention of going back in, I just needed to collect myself first. And I did. And I kicked ass. Twice. The two biggest instructors there.

And it did feel amazing. I mean there was an adrenaline rush that came from the fear and the activity and the primal feeling of conquering an opponent, but there was more. There was this elevated calm and peace of mind that comes from having the tools to handle a situation that has always concerned me.

I kicked ass and I have the bruises to prove it.

Now I am shopping for martial arts classes to start once my back gets better (I'm seeing a physiotherapist for a minor but annoying back issue). (YES, Mike, Jiu-jitsu is on the list.)

I did have a couple of problems with the class though. The lead instructor was trying to teach us to get past our fear and our 'ladylike' reluctance but he came off as not understanding women's perspectives in these situations. And some of the other women in the class gave me grief for being able to get loud and hit hard right away. Oh, and one thing that the instructors should have told us before they hooked their arm around our necks to pull us towards them? Their, ahem, 'protective equipment' feels like an erection from the 'victim's' perspective. And that was a little disturbing at first, let me tell ya.

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Disclaimer: I am one of the MotherTalk reviewers for M.J. Rose's suspense novel The Reincarnationist. I received a free copy of the book and will receive $20.00 Amazon gift certificate in return for this review.

After receiving my copy of The Reincarnationist on Friday afternoon, I read it every spare moment until I finished it on Sunday night. On Sunday morning, my husband asked me what I thought of the book, and I told him "I'm enjoying it, but I can put it down. I wouldn't be reading it so fast if I didn't promise that my review would be up on Tuesday." I had no sooner said that when the storyline took an interesting turn and I had to take the book with me to read in the car while we ran some messages because I needed to know what happened.

I really enjoyed the premise - a traumatic experience allows a photographer named Josh Ryder to flash back to his past lives, and as a result of his investigations into his experiences he gets involved in a modern day search for a treasure) and the mystery is unravelled at a fairly even pace. I did find the ending somewhat abrupt, but that may have been a factor of how involved I had gotten with the characters by that point. The novel, obviously, centers around reincarnation and while I think reincarnation is entirely possible, I haven't really given it much thought before now. I don't think I really thought about how someone dealing with past lives would understand and experience them and this novel was an interesting exploration of that.

I liked how M.J. Rose spins the idea of reincarnation, not suggesting that people are doomed to relive their mistakes, but that the mistakes of the past can inform the present. Of course, people may keep making the mistakes until they learn better, but it doesn't have to happen that way.

This book also hit on a number of my other interests, archaeology, history, and mythology, and she wove those threads into the narrative almost seamlessly*. She has piqued by interest in a number of topics - including the Vestal Virgins - and I will likely end up doing some more reading on them when I finish some of the projects I am working on.

M.J. Rose's physical descriptions of people and scenes were vivid and believable, but at points I felt like she was only scratching the surface of people's characters. At least one character, Rachel, seemed to serve mostly as a plot point rather than a character in her own right. The part she played in helping Josh could have been achieved almost (but not quite) as well by having him read an old journal.

And I was a little disappointed that the author chose not to get a little more in-depth into the characters' past lives and the past relationships between the characters and I felt like some of the loose ends were tied up a little too quickly.

I have seen other people compare it to the DaVinci Code and I think that is valid. Of the two, I prefer The Reincarnationist, though. Rose doesn't seem to need to give as much weight to minute historical details as Brown does, so her novel didn't seem forced in the way that the DaVinci Code did at some points. I think anyone who likes their novels to be steeped in history** while set in the present day will really enjoy The Reincarnationist - I did!

*I'm not sure the artifacts and remains in the tomb that is a central feature in one of Josh's flashbacks would have been dealt with in the way she described - but I've never excavated a tomb, so she may be dead on (dead! ha! Sorry, couldn't resist!).

** I like how books of this sort make me feel smart because I already know a bit about the subjects they are covering - foolish, but hey some days you take what you can get. :P

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I've been noticing that my spam subject lines have been getting more creative of late. Instead of just involving new ways to spell the ED and enhancement products they are hawking, they are explicit descriptions of what the products will allow you to do. And the implications are driving me nuts.

Judging from conversations with there are already too many men out there who think that by bringing their 'equipment' they have done their job. Well, let me tell you guys, you need to do more than show up. And if you show up expecting that your artificially enhanced size, ability to go all night or force at which you can thrust is going to get the job done, I've got sad news for. Sure all of those things can be nice, but you'd be better off asking her (or him I presume) what she (or he) wants and work from there.

And if you feel shy about that* perhaps you should check out one of these books.

Of course, the people who perpetuate this spam by actually responding to it are unlikely to be reading my blog. And I'm not sure the people who write spam can actually read. So I'm no doubt preaching to the choir here, but hey what else is new? :P

*Actually if you feel shy about that, get dressed and go home. Seriously, what are you doing naked with someone if you can't even ask what they like?

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So, this Tuesday evening will find me at a women's self-defense course, learning how to kick butt (literally instead of figuratively - I can do that already). And I am afraid.

And no, I am not afraid that some berserker rage that lies beneath the surface will be unleashed and I will leave little pieces of Kenpo blackbelts littered around the gym.

I'm afraid of the role-playing. I'm an actor, and I get into character, and I believe other people's characters - I am afraid of the personas that the instructors will take on to help us practice the techniques we're taught.

I guess I like to think of myself as someone who could magically be battle-ready should the need occur, and I'm afraid that Tuesday will reveal just how pathetically unprepared I actually am.

And I fear how deeply into the role-playing the instructors might get. I'm not afraid of accidentally getting hurt, I'm sure that won't happen. But I dread the thought of hearing hate-filled words in my ear even while pretending. I'm not sure how I'll deal with that.

But I'm doing the course anyway. Better to hear that stuff in practice, and learn to deliver a swift response, than hear it for real and be frozen in fear.

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I have been reading the book Mindless Eating and there's a lot of great information in there about how to change your eating patterns to eat more healthfully. One of the tips is to sort your large bags of snacks and whatnot into small baggies or containers so you stick to a serving size. That sounds helpful.

In June I wrote an article about how to reduce your ecological footprint. One of the suggestions was to buy in bulk so you are buying less packaging. That sounds do-able.

The question is, which guilt wins out? How do I avoid overeating while still buying in bulk? Using little baggies creates the same amount of waste. But if I use little containers then I need room to store them, and I need to wash them, and I need to keep them out of sight so I don't charge through two or three in one sitting.

I confess that at least for a while, the environment may fall victim to my desire to stop eating like a moron. Denise, please forgive me.

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Last Sunday night I was waiting at a light in the middle of town on my way to pick up my friend Jan from her place when I happened to notice a woman looking at her reflection in a storefront. Something about how she carried herself made me turn to look at her as she was doing that finger motion you do to tidy up your lipstick in the corners of your mouth.

My first impression was of a tall, confident woman with dyed blonde hair, fixing her lipstick in a convenient reflection. Her tall boots and open coat added to her vaguely glamorous aura and she intrigued me enough for me to take a second look.

That's when I noticed that her tall boots were unlaced, and that she was carrying a picnic cooler.

Then she turned and pushed her shopping cart further along the sidewalk.

The effect was disconcerting, like seeing all the layers of someone's existence all at once.

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If you are going to start writing in your blog again after months of sporadic (at best) postings, do you explain your absence or do you act like you haven't been away?

My usual diplomatic self tells me to do both, so here goes:

Reasons I haven't been posting regularly

I have been busy with a number of projects.

I was fighting a minor but persistent depressive episode.

TLG has been filling my brainspace with incessant questions.

The boys have been up until all hours of the night, preventing the sort of thinking time that generates good posts.

I have so much to say I don't know where to begin.

The things I want to write about will take more time than I have available.

I'm tired.

But I'm back now, so keep checking in.

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Here's what I recommend: Tell TLG that he's Binoo and you're Toopy. It's hilarious. He'll look at you like you have ten heads, and then shake his little blond mop and say 'Noooo, ME Toopy, YOU Binoo'

It is, as my Dad says, worth a nickel.

Perhaps more.

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