Coming Tuesday I feel better

Can you feel a theme happening this week? Daily blogging with the Easybeats. I wish I had've entitled yesterday's contribution, "Monday morning feels so bad." So far it's been pretty much a wash, rinse and repeat of yesterday; minus the trip to Coles, replacing it with not one but TWO trips to Officeworks which cost me a princely sum of $350! Again, I got to work half an hour late but I kind of figure I was working anyway when I was traipsing around the wonder that is Officeworks. This girl loves stationery shopping!

Which brings me to todays interesting fact about Leisa. Don't let the 117cm (3'10") frame fool you, she's pretty strong. I guess years of carrying kids, hoiking motorised scooters into the car, grocery shopping and general housework will do that to you. When I was in my 20's I looked at my mother in law with her back problems (she's got achondroplasia as well) and thought that would be my fate when I hit her age. She was the same age as I am now when it all the numbness and paraplegia started and she began a series of four or five operations for spinal decompression. She's still in a really bad way.I was so scared that was going to be me. I guess it's another reason I have been so committed to my health and fitness and keeping my weight low. So far, so good. No tingling, no numbness, no loss of mobility save the creakiness and stiffness that seems to hit anyone at this age.

I do wonder sometimes how long this will last, my mobility. Maybe I'll be fine. I'm keeping active by jogging every day, doing all my own housework and shopping. I still do a lot of heavy lifting as I am my 21 year old daughter's main physical support person. Maybe tangled up with all my mutant genes are the healthy genes of my mother and father who are strong and active in their mid-60's, travelling around our great country in a motor home and hiking and biking whenever they get the chance. The difference between them and my MIL is astounding and they're all around the same age. One lot are off on an adventure and the other has put herself in a Retirement Village. I know what I'd rather be doing.

Sorry for the trailing thoughts today. Trailing Tuesday...maybe that's what this is.

Mondayitis

Greetings from my desk at work! As you can see, I have a serious case of Mondayitis. I have done a hotch potch of bits and pieces that has resulted in nothing being accomplished.



As you can see...Blogger is open! Productivity here at AAV is at an all time low.



I knew today wasn't going to be the best day for accomplishing anything pretty much as soon as I woke. I got out to go jogging and only managed to complete one circuit of the Reserve. I decided to finish my workout by taking my bike out for a couple of kms. Fun! The magpies are still nesting and decided I posed an enormous threat so swooped me on two different occasions.

I got home and discovered that we had nothing in the cupboards or the fridge for breakfast. Luckily we have a Coles on the corner of our street so I dashed down there to get provisions, only to discover that there had been some kind of glitch in their ordering system. The fruit and vegetable department was pretty much bare! I've never seen anything like it. I managed to get enough for breakfast and making work and school lunches and dashed back home.

Normally I manage to get ready for work by the time I have to take everyone to their prospective schools and workplaces. Not today. After gobbling down some breakfast it was time to get people off to wherever they needed to be. Chloe needed to be dropped off for a work breakfast meeting at a local cafe, then Georgia was dropped off at school and Tim needed to be taken down the highway and dropped off at his workplace.

I got back home at 9am. I'm supposed to start work at 10am. I work in the city - an hours drive from home. After jogging and cycling there was no way I was going to forego a shower and throw on some glad rags for work! I showered in double-quick time, dried off my hair (thank God I got it cut short!) and hit the road at 9:30am, no make up, no lunch. Oh well.

The drive was uneventful and the traffic was kind. Hooray for small mercies!

Now I'm here and I really can't be bothered. I keep thinking of a thousand and one things I'd love to be doing more at home - like getting into the jungle I call my front garden....even mopping the floors. Anything but this. I'm a homebody. I love being home. This weekend my home was inundated with young people. I'd love a day at home on my own just to reclaim my space. Does anyone else feel that way? Instead, I am wrestling with little bits of equipment that keep having hissy fits. I wish I was wrestling with my vacuum cleaner. I love vacuuming. (Ok, I'm strange. You can say it!)



Silly little labeller!



Despite the fact that I have Mondayitis and I really didn't want to come into work today I am very grateful to be working for such a great organisation. We are the peak body for Arts and Disability. I work with the nicest bunch of people you could ever meet. We're a pretty laid-back workplace but know how to get the job done. Everyone understands the need to have a Mental Health Day now and again. We are an Equal Opportunity workplace. I guess it's your answer as to why I travel so far to work every day.

So I guess you could say that I have learned a valuable lesson today - FORWARD PLANNING! No matter how tired I am on a Sunday afternoon I am going to make sure of several things - that we have plenty of food in the pantry and fridge (I may even precook a few dinners to have during the week), that all school uniforms are ready for Monday morning, that lunches are pre-made, that I set my alarm and not hit the snooze button when it goes off, that there's plenty of gas in the car AND I don't listen to any emotional songs on my way to work.

I hope your Monday is going well. As for me I'm looking forward to getting home, having a nice roast chicken dinner with my kids and maybe a glass of wine. Tuesday's coming and it will be a brand new day without any mistakes. Bring it on! :)

Grateful for lyrics and talk therapy

I must admit to finding it very hard to write a grateful post this week - hence it's lateness. It's not that there's been anything bad happen and I know and see that there's many, many things to be grateful for; it's just that I'm finding it all very hard to write at the moment due to the fugue I'm in. (or should that me a funk? I don't know.)

My counsellor/therapist has asked me to do three weeks worth of daily writing. Actual writing with a pen and paper. (funny how we have to specify these days) Last session we had was quite intense and so he really believes that I am suffering 20+ years worth of PTSD through the experience of having four children that I have had to hand over to surgeons many times - not just for "little" things like grommets and tonsils (although I acknowledge that those surgeries are indeed invasive and intense for any family to go through), but BIG things......like brain surgery, spinal surgery, major orthopaedic surgery. At the time you just do what you must to get through those things and bring your child through, but the experiences do leave scars and emotional trauma...even though on the surface I have appeared to simply soldier on and get on with it.

Add to that a partner who added stresses of a different kind and you have one very on-edge Leisa. My therapist has asked me to write down as much as I can - thoughts, impressions, smells I can remember, sights, sounds, feelings. Just write it all down as it comes out, whether it be jumbled or coherent or whatever.

I haven't really written much. I've only written a little bit on three different days. It's been a week since I saw my therapist. I write and I can feel my heart pounding. I am anxious. I don't want to go there. I especially don't want to go there when I feel so abandoned. 2011 has been a year of having everything slowly stripped away until there's just me standing here, so to revisit all those traumatic times right now is just a little scary.

BUT, this is supposed to be a grateful post so right at this very moment I am going to turn it around and list my two gratefuls for this week.

1. Talk therapy.

I'm also grateful to my therapists wife who chose the colours and decor of his office. It feels soothing.

I am extremely grateful to have found a therapist who has been there for me for the better part of 12 years. I am really relaxed when I talk to him. Even though he is a Christian therapist I feel ok about letting fly with the "F-bomb" when I need to. I feel as though he doesn't judge me for questioning everything I once accepted as the ultimate truth. He helps me explore other ways of thinking. I feel as though he is on my side - not that there are any sides per se, but I feel as though he cheers me on. I am grateful that he will call a spade a spade, even when I have been reluctant to. He has labelled things for me so that I can get a handle on understanding why I feel so...traumatised. There are times where he and I seem to have lost our way during therapy, wandering off on some little sidetrack, wondering where we're headed, but he always helps me find my way back again. I feel as though I am getting some direction and making positive steps towards wholeness. I know the next six sessions are going to be rough as we deal with the trauma together, but I think once I let this out and let it go I might just come out into a clearing that will help me move forward.

2. Lyrics

I am so grateful for songwriters that put down in words what all this feeling feels like. Yesterday I discovered Adele's Turning Tables - thanks to Gwynneth Paltrow on Glee. Oh. My. Goodness. My life right now in song, right there. Sometimes all those emotions inside just feel so big, so huge that I don't know what to do with them and I can't seem to even make sense of them. Finding a song that expresses them really, really helps me. It's like the songwriter has found the perfect combination of words and melody to just help me get it all out there so it doesn't feel so overwhelming. Turning Tables has been played a lot over the past 24 hours.

Of course it doesn't have to be a hugely emotional song. It can also be an upbeat, feel good song. The kids and I have a bit of a theme song - Keep on Movin' - by Five. It became our theme song during a particularly trying year. Every time I hear it I have wonderful memories of my four little ones - possible no more than aged 12, 9, 8 and 3 - singing along to it in the car. We even had dance moves to go with it. We still play it sometimes when we need a pick up. I feel our resolve strengthening as we sing along.

Come to think of it, I'm also grateful for memories such as these. I am grateful that despite trying circumstances at times, we always found something that would cheer us up, bring us closer and keep us moving.

Joining in the Gratefulness with the lovely Maxabella today. Pop on over and join in too!

Wordless Wednesday - Girls Night

Last night we went out to see The Help. With is were my daughter's best friends - all from the same family.

Chloe and Rebecca - friends since about the age of two.

Yours truly and Rachel.

Ruth and Georgia - friends since the womb! (Ruth's mother and I are friends and were pregnant at the same time. Ruth is only three weeks older than Georgia.)

My Girls

These are my beautiful girls at their aunts Hen's Lunch recently.

They are all as close as they seem and I hope it always remains so.

They've been though so much and yet they continue to shine and grow and see the good in everything around them.

I love them with everything I am.

Boundary setting

There's nothing wrong with personal space and making sure other people respect it.



It's funny, but since being on my own and learning more about myself I am a lot more confident with setting boundaries, especially with those people who kind of dwell on the peripherals. I guess I'm talking about casual acquaintances and, in some cases, total strangers. In Dirty Dancing Johnny had it right when he would tell Baby, "This is my dance space, this is yours. Hold your frame!" There's nothing wrong with setting your boundaries.

I realised yesterday that over my life I have been reluctant to set boundaries with people as I was afraid that I would hurt their feelings. I haven't been too good with "confrontation", even in the nicest sense of the word. In most cases I have put up with things for the sake of niceness or, if the behaviour is too intolerable I have avoided that person as much as possible.

One of my personal bugbears is being patted on the head. I think I can even safely speak for all people with a dwarfing condition over the age of five when I say that we hate it. When I was in High School I would even go as far as kicking a person in the shins if they would do it. All students at my school learned very quickly that you did not pat Leisa on the head. I'm not proud of my old method and wouldn't in any way recommend it, nor would I employ it now at the ripe age of 40-something but I have to say, it worked!

Yesterday I finally plucked up the courage to talk to a serial head-patter. I knew it was coming to a time where I had to do it because I had been avoiding him like the plague. This gentleman is a lovely, friendly man and I knew he was simply being his version of friendly. I didn't want to avoid him anymore. The crunch came when I saw him patting my 21 year old daughter on the head and a very close friend of mine came up to me and said, "Gee I hate it when I see that happen! I don't know why people have to pat you on the head. It's degrading!" So, I asked the man if I could have a chat to him.

It went so well. I prefaced everything by telling him that I liked and respected him which is why I needed to talk to him about the head patting issue. I explained how I really, really hated it and I was beginning to avoid him so that he wouldn't do it anymore. I reiterated that I valued him as a friend which was why I needed to let him know. He was very gracious about it and apologised, both to me and my daughter. God love him.

I know that not all "confrontations" will go so well, but it was good to know that I do have the ability to make a personal request for personal space and I don't have to feel guilty about it. I had to do it twice yesterday. I don't know what it is about our size that makes some people think that we don't have personal space. For us it's a real problem. Yesterday at church there was also this young teen, possibly no more than 14, whom I'd never met before and she had her arms around my shoulders and was adjusting my hairdo! So, whilst she had her arms around my shoulders I told her that I was very happy to be her friend and that I liked hugs but she needed to remember that if she wanted to adjust my hair, or move my 21 year old daughters foot stool on her wheelchair she needed to ASK first - and if the answer was "no" she needed to respect that.

I honestly do think it's something to do with our child-like size. Have you noticed that it's common for adults to reach into prams and stroke a baby's cheek or pat a small child on the head? When I first became a mother I would often wonder about it and would feel strange about total strangers peering into the pram and wanting to touch my babies - especially when they got a little older and a little more aware of themselves. I wonder if babies and children feel as though it's an invasion of their personal space? Hmm...something to contemplate.

Boundaries. I think we all need them and feel ok about politely asking others to respect them.

Grateful Saturday - guidebooks and generosity

I have been reading several bloggers Grateful Saturday posts for quite a few months now and have wanted to join in ever since I started reading. Finally I am getting off my butt (or should that read sitting ON my butt?) and committing to making this post my first grateful post and planning that there will be many, many more.

This Saturday I am grateful for many, many things but wanted just to pick out two that have really meant a lot to me this week.

1. Guidebooks.

I'm not talking street maps here, or instructions about how to operate your iPhone, laptop or flat screen TV. I'm grateful for books written by people who have found techniques or journeys or belief systems that have helped them in their journey through life.

At the moment I am reading Eat Pray Love for the second time. It's helping me. A lot. I can identify with so many aspects of Liz Gilbert's life...especially the searching bit.

It's been a very interesting experience for me, having grown up in Pentecostal church all my life with the belief that "this" was THE ultimate and only truth and being warned to shy away from anything that suggests otherwise. For the majority of my life I have been very reluctant to read anything that was, in my mind, too "New Age, thinking that I had just hopped on a one way road to hell if I did. With the passage of time, maturity, therapy, counselling and a mind a little more open to other things, I have found that reading new things and opening my mind to other possibilities has pointed me in a new direction. I have a new found faith in the God I always believed existed but was too scared by trying to "keep to the rules" to get to know Him. I read ideas from other schools of thought with a real "wheat and chaff" approach - looking for the kernels of wisdom and truth and shelving anything that doesn't sit right with me.

Since taking this road, I have never felt so loved, so safe, so assured of my path. I feel His love within me. I am less judgemental, more accepting and filled with more peace than I've ever felt before. My faith doesn't look anything like what my upbringing would have told me was acceptable (and I am getting pressures from outside influences to "keep to the rules") but I know that this path is the right one for now.

So.....I am grateful to those searchers who have been brave enough to explore their own paths and write about their experiences on that journey.

2. Generosity

This week I have been the recipient of the incredible generosity of my (ex) Mother-in-Law. Due to declining physical ability she came to the decision last weekend that it was no longer safe for her to continue driving. It was a tough and emotional decision, but she knew it was time. As a result, she GAVE her cute little Mitsubishi Lancer to ME!

I do already have a car - a huge Ford Falcon with a large space in the back to be able to transport a motorised wheelchair. (it's an ex-taxi) It's been a God-send to our family and has allowed us to take out daughter's wheelchairs wherever we go so that they are able to be independent. But let's face it,, it's a BIG car, it's in no way girly and has been cumbersome to drive. I've always dreamed of a small car to drive around when I don't have to transport wheelchairs. Now I have one. It's gorgeous, it purrs like a kitten, it's light on the steering, it's zippy. My son will also learn to drive in it.

My MIL hasn't asked for any payment for it. I will just pay for the transfer of registration. That's all. I am eternally grateful for her generous heart, even though I am no longer with her eldest son. She wishes to remain friends as we have always been. I hope to be able to continue blessing her as well.

Joining in with the gratefulness over at Lemon Rhodes.