OK

A good friend gave me a magnet several years ago that says this: "Everything will be OK in the end. If it's not OK, it's not the end." Not sure if this is really true, but I guess I won't really know til... well... the end. But I like the idea of believing this. Its a good attitude-adjuster when one is needed. Because I fluctuate between worry-wortitis and full blown general anxiety, little token phrases like this really help to calm the unsettled nerves.

Take, for example, last week when I remembered in the nick of time that I was summoned for jury duty on a day that I regularly watch my friend's baby. Of course, when I called in, my number was called and I was gonna have to report in, which meant that my husband had to rearrange his schedule to stay home with the kids. Not a total end-of-the-world thing, but enough to throw me into a mood that immediately spiraled into the "I hate it that we have no family in town... how are we ever gonna be in a place to have more kids?" blues. Now, when our daughter was first born, we somehow had enough in us to make our crazy schedules work, but two years of sleep deprivation later, it doesn't take much to knock the wind right out of my sail. And when this happens, my husband now knows that these few little words do wonders to calm the waves... "it usually works out." I ask him to remind me of this from time to time when I feel the walls caving in and the pressure mounting up.

The truth is, for a lot of situations, things usually do work out... within the scope of what you already know to be true for your life and existence. In other words... the smallish things in life that surmount into a big pile of worry... these are the things that usually work out. The other things- the big things- like, for instance, family, health, friendships, and world need (to name a few), are worth the extra worry and attention.

Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that I might run late (a LOT) and I might forget about planning for things like jury duty, but I have NEVER forgotten my daughter at home while on the way to run errands. She's the best part of the errand-running. And though I might not smell or look as good as the mom down the street, my daughter doesn't care because she knows she has an open invitation to put makeup on me and dress me up like a freak. And these are the little things I live for.

PS- the jury duty situation did work out, as predicted. My husband rearranged his schedule to take the day off, all to wake up that morning with the stomach flu, which meant that the jury duty people had to let me off the hook. I mistakenly gave my husband 2 Tylenol PM's (when he asked for regular Tylenol), and he slept the day away. Woke up feeling much better, and neither me nor our daughter caught whatever nasty thing he had. It all worked out in its own funny little way.

The Small Stuff

Today could have been a stressful morning. Three back-to-back sessions to be followed by a mad rush to pick daughter up from daycare. And because I planned this, it meant that I would have to leave each session 5 min early so that I would not be running behind. Sometimes I feel like "time crunch" is the best way to describe my life.

Thankfully, or unthankfully (however you want to call it), my second session did not pan out. Embarrassingly, my car insurance was expired, which meant that I would be turned around by the guard at the army post where my session was to transpire. Somehow, the guard last week overlooked the expiration date. Today, as fate would have it, I got the detail-oriented, anal retentive guard. But I think fate was on my side because it directed me straight to my favorite coffee shop where I was greeted with open arms, even 15 minutes before opening. And when I thought my triple latte with extra foam couldn't possibly get any better, the music gods decided to party with the coffee gods to enchant me with some of my favorite tunes. And then the food gods jumped in and wet my palette with the best quiche (or as I described to my daughter later, "egg pizza") I had ever tasted. All this amazingness packed into 20 minutes of pure bliss. And then I was off to my 3rd session, ready to take it on like it was Mount Everest.

This got me thinking... if it only took 20 minutes to lift my spirits today, couldn't I make this happen everyday? I mean, its not like 20 minutes is that difficult to set aside each day. I know that part of the enjoyment is when things happen spontaneously, but sometimes it might take going off the beaten path for an opportune moment to see what little nugget of wonderfulness that life has in store. I didn't mean to go off the beaten path today- the anal guard sent me there- but thank God he did!

I'm not sure how this looks practically, but I think it means occasionally turning off the TV and going outside, or pulling out the paintbrush and seeing what happens on a blank canvas, or throwing a bunch of food together to see what interesting creation comes of it, or creating a new Pandora station of artists I love but wouldn't necessarily put together, or even calling a friend who I've been wondering about for the past few months. I think there's endless ways of making this a daily reality... its just making sure I'm open to it.

Lady Ga...ga...got-to-be-kidding-me

On Sunday night, Lady Gaga, not to be outdone by her "normally" clad music industry cronies, arrived in an prenatal chariot-of-sorts. As I was watching, thinking "huh?!", and trying to contain my laughter, all I heard about from musical analysts (ok, Seacrest being one of them) was how brilliant the woman is. Ok- if that's all it takes, my toddler's IQ must be through the roof. She is constantly crawling in cocoon-like structures, requesting me to transport her from room to room. AND, if you put her and Gaga in the same contest for most creative/artistic/out-there wardrobe, my daughter would win every time. Which begs the argument that perhaps Lady G. is channeling her innermost toddler. Meanwhile, skeptics across the globe are either totally flabberghasted or calling her a genius. As for me and my household... we're not gonna overthink this one... a 2 year-old in a 20-something body... ok, with some pretty catchy tunes and interesting dance moves. Not that I have anything against the Gagas of the world or 2 year-olds... I really do love both populations. I'm just sayin'.

That's all I got for now. Really nothing mental-health related, unless you wanna qualify it as such, which probably can easily be done.

And by the way, as you can tell from the ungodly hour this is posted, I am not doing good on my sleep routine lately, but mostly because children with colds and fevers don't sleep that well... and neither do their mommies. And also partly because Bravo has too many addicting reality shows. I highly recommend Tabatha's Takeover, if you're looking for more mindless stuff to rot your brain. Its actually more inspiring than most reality shows, though, especially if your standard is Jersey Shores.

Dead Leaves and a Dirty Ground When I Know that You're Not Around...

First of all, happy belated Groundhog Day.

Secondly, please join me in a moment of silence. I just received notice that the White Stripes is officially over, following a 3 year hiatus. That's it. Over. Capiche. Fini. And here I've been anticipating another record that would surely be the best thing my ears have ever heard. If they weren't writing songs, what were they doing all that time? I know that this is early in the grief process, but I'm very angry about this. I had a chance to see them twice after the release of their last record and neither time panned out- the first because of a client who had to reschedule and then no-showed on me (I may still be holding a grudge) and the second due to Meg's reported acute anxiety, which resulted in the cancellation of their entire US tour for Icky Thump. I know that its only a 2 person band, but I just don't know why the show couldn't have gone on without her. Anyways, I'm very sad... no- angry, but I think the sadness will set in really soon.

So, this begs the question (which I planned to address much later in this 52 week blog sequence)- what is the best way to manage intense feelings like anger (which is sometimes considered a "secondary emotion), sadness, or anxiety? I'm not sure there's one particularly best way, but there are definitely helpful things people can do... and unhelpful things as well... when encountering emotional overload.

The first thing, and sorry to pound this to the ground, is that a person is set up to handle intense situations better if they are well rested. Maybe the patterns of severe lack of sleep in my life have been my way of learning this lesson the hard way, or maybe this is my own subconscious way to convince myself that I really need to start going to bed earlier. At any rate, sleep deprivation over long periods of time can contribute to even worse things, like anxiety or depression, which affects functioning in a lot of areas, including relationships. Sometimes sleep deprivation can be a result of anxiety and depression, though, and when this happens, some good relaxation exercises or mindfulness techniques can be used to train the mind to switch gears.

I really like (Cognitive-Behavioral) mindfulness techniques. Some can be on the silly side, like blowing bubbles and noticing where they float, and others are really enjoyable like listening to a song and noticing the different nuances in the melody. Regardless, there are lots of things that a person can do to retreat to a different mental space just by using the raw senses to experience feelings other than what is depression- or anxiety- related. We will discuss more mindfulness techniques another time.

But alas, my daughter is calling for me, so I cannot sink too far deep into sadness over the White Stripes just yet. Maybe later.

Coming, coming... geeze!!


photo reference: beatcrave.com/tag/ the-white-stripes/

Eat Your Heart Out, Drew Brees

The other day, I thought I had a great analogy for a mom who's child has some delays in certain developmental areas. My analogy was so great, I thought, that I found the need to repeat it when the dad came home. You know that feeling you get when the awesome thing that you have to say does not get the response that you are looking for? This is what happened to me. Its not that they didn't like what I had to say... it was just awkward timing (which is something I'm working on). Note to self- when dad is home and  mom is chasing kids around, trying to start dinner, probably time to leave rather than going on about random metaphor that only impresses myself.

Anyways, in hopes that someone will like what I had to say, I'm gonna share it again. Basically, without being too specific, the issue at hand had something to do with the kiddo's processing delay and communication challenges that sometimes inhibit him from being able to advocate for himself appropriately when another kiddo (or sibling) snatches a toy away from him, inevitably leading to a fist fight. Because the kiddo has decent verbal skills (albeit the processing delay) and a strong capacity to engage in pretend play, I suggested that he is given time to practice problem solving and better communication by acting some of these situations out in dramatic play with one of his parents. My analogy was this...


The other day on the Ellen show, FB quarterback Drew Brees shared that during the week before a big game, he mentally puts himself in the position of being a touchdown behind with 2 minutes on the clock and plays out what it will take to win the game. He says that he does this several times a day during that week so that if he actually finds himself in that position, he won't have to think about what he has to do and can just react automatically.

I thought this was a great analogy and very fitting with my recommendation to the parents- put your kid in the position to play out how to best respond to a challenging situation so that he will be able to more efficiently respond when the actual challenge presents itself.

Now, thank God I will never be in the same unfortunate position as Drew Brees, earning millions of dollars each Sunday to throw a football at very specific and fast-moving targets, and will therefore never have to withstand the pressure of coming back from a 7 point deficit with 2 minutes on the clock, but I think his technique can apply to me (and most of us) in our own lives. I think the key is probably figuring out what aspects of your life or job make you feel most vulnerable to defeat and then game-planning as much as possible so that, when those situations present themselves, you are more likely to succeed.

In my own life, I think this boils down to probably more things than I'd like to admit, but most obvious to me right now is my tendency to overcommit. I really don't say "no" to very many things (although my grad school advisor always pointed out that when you say "yes" to one thing,  you're saying "no" to another). My terrible ability to plan and organize my life probably at least partially contributes to this tendency, in that if I don't have my weekly planner right in front of me (which is a likely scenario), I have no visual cues that the decision I am making will 1) drive me crazy; 2) create a last-minute childcare fiasco; and 3) be a very bad, self-defeating decision. So, today when I received a message from a professor asking if I'd like to jump on board a research project, rather than calling him straight back and agreeing haphazardly to do it, I gave myself time to think about what I'd say. It was actually nice to plan it all out in my head (and while I was at it, I threw a few touchdown passes too), so that when we actually spoke over the phone later on in the evening, I was prepared with questions and stipulations (well, not really stipulations, but it makes me sound tougher to say that).

All in all, I felt like I was able to advocate for myself better because I am learning how to gain more respect for what my needs and wants are, just like that kiddo. The main difference is that I'm almost 30 years older and just now learning this lesson, a lesson that my friend Jamie (who you might remember from my previous post) might also want to learn.

I Don't Feel So Regular...

Thought I should check in since its been a few days. Have been trying to catch up on my sleep. Hasn't gone so well. We'll analyze that in a minute.

First, I'd like to take this opportunity to reference the legendary, sometimes controversial, author and philanthropist, Jamie Berry, of 5 Million Kids. In one of his recent posts, Mr. Berry initially blames a ghost for his behaviors that, in his wife's terms, ruin their balanced set, and he finally concludes that perhaps what has actually been haunting him lately is in fact not a ghost, but rather his own lack of balance.

I don't know about you, but I can relate to Mr. Berry. I, too, can feel very off balance at times, and when I do, things just don't go as well. And when things don't go well, it often takes more effort to get nice and balanced again. Working with kids who sometimes have a lot of sensory needs, the idea of being off-balance comes up quite a bit when discussing with their parents what plays into various behaviors. Except I use other translations of the word, such as, "out of sync," "dysregulated," "out of sorts," "off-center," "disorganized," and so on and so forth. Off-balance also fits quite well. Basically, a sensory train wreck can make a person feel out of whack, and the best thing to do is to first learn how to avoid the sensory train wrecks in the beginning, and then to have a plan for how to get the trains back on their respective tracks.

Over the past several days, I've been doing a bit of soul searching, or more like incidental learning, if you will, and have come up with a few things that almost always result in me feeling off-balanced. The first is lack of sleep, as we all know. Another one is what my husband likes to call my "time unconsciousness." I'd like to think of it more as being time-consciousness challenged. Anyways, the third is my severe lack of planning, which contributes more than I'd like to admit to my lack of time consciousness. Take, for instance, my day yesterday, which started with me running out the door with my toddler and her buttload of toys to bring to the babysitters (I pick my battles), running anywhere between 10 and 20 minutes late, which sent me into a tailspin of lateness to each of my home visits and meetings, with each commute flooding my already caffeine-drenched veins with insane levels of cortisol (a hormone that is released in response to stress, which is great when you're already jacked up on insane amounts of caffeine). Not a good pace to the day. And this is a typical work day for me. All I can say is thank God stop lights don't have feelings.

My advice to parents is usually to anticipate the sensory break-down before it happens- to open the windows before the walls start caving in. Planning, which is not my forte, has a lot to do with feeling good. I've always sorta rebelled against planning (probably an internal conflict that my Type B side wants to win), but I realized this while discussing with one of my parents- that once a routine is established and a good plan is in place, things click into place more automatically and ironically allow for more freedom and spontaneity. On the other hand, flying by the seat of one's pants usually amounts to feeling pressured, which only provides the right amount of motivation when its at a reasonable level, but can quickly unravel into a huge mess of panic. At least this happens with me. So, inevitably, a lot of energy is spent talking myself back into a recuperated state.

If you are like me and my friend Jamie and are feeling a bit unbalanced, it might help to find out what's been tipping your scale the most. If you don't know, ask your spouse- he/she would love to clue you in. We all know that Step 1 is admitting the problem. Since coming to terms with my poor sleep habits, issues with being time consciousness challenged, and disorganized planning, I now can move in the right direction, which will probably start with releasing myself from my late night Bravo TV addiction so I can go to bed earlier. Sorry, Millionaire Matchmaker. And I've already got a new babysitter lined up to watch the kid HERE on my work days so my days of leaving the house in a mad scramble are soon over (thank God!!!... and babysitter). And finally, as another stepping stone to minimizing the chaos and getting me back on track to being a more balanced person, I plan to at least try to even up my water-to-coffee ratio. None of this will be easy, but I at least gotta try it.

The Battle for Sleep Wages On

In the romantic comedy, Fight Club, Ed Norton's character hits the nail on its head when he explains that insomnia feels like you're never really awake and you're never really asleep. I've had insomnia and can say that this is a very, very fitting description. Thank God, I don't have insomnia anymore... but sometimes I feel like it... and this has been one of those weeks. As if it wasn't enough to challenge myself to sleep better, I had to make the self-inflicted challenge a little more interesting by introducing a big girl bed to my daughter on Monday. Needless to say, her excitement over it has resulted in less sleep for everyone this week. The only solution I found was to get her completely asleep before tucking her in each night. The only problem with this solution is that its taken 1-2 hours most of the nights this week to get her to fall asleep. So, tonight, I was bound and determined to put her self-soothing skills to the test and put her in there wide awake. Its like going back to infant days. Totally exhausting. Except now, instead of her screaming her head off until I wave the white flag, she uses her emerging frontal lobe capacities and pulls all the tricks in the book...

"Mama, I go potty!" (Yeah right... you didn't use your big girl potty all day, and now you're asking... I don't think so! You can use it tomorrow!)

"Mama, upstairs!" (We are upstairs, and even if you meant 'downstairs,' there's no chance we're going back down there tonight).

"Mama, rock!"  (I rocked you for a half hour already, for the love of God!)

I kiss her and tell her I love her for the thousandth time and then leave the room, reminding her that I will not go back in (yeah right). I go downstairs. Quiet... for thirty seconds.

"Mama, are you?" (Translation: "Mama, where are you?)

"Mama, are you?"

"Mama, are you?"

Knock, knock, knock on her door.

"Grandma!" (Ask for the next female option in the house).

"Graaaaandmaaaa!"

Melting down... melting down... total combustion.

I go upstairs, sit at her door and spend the next several minutes bargaining with her. "In your bed, head on pillow, and I'll sing you a song."... "In your bed, head on pillow, and I'll come in and kiss you goodnight." "In your bed, head on pillow, and I'll put your lullaby music on."

Several more minutes, a big hug, and a few more songs later, she finally consented. Doesn't take me long to wave my white flag. Takes her practically all night. And I'm the one who supposedly has all the good ideas? All I know is that for those parents who have babies or children for whom sleep comes easy, you don't even know what interesting games you're missing out on.

Now my turn to go to sleep. I hope, no- pray, that next week will be better with the sleeping situation for all members of this household. I am convinced that tackling sleep needs to come first in the lineup of mental health needs. Maybe I need to change my expectations.