Thoughts from inside an MRI...

 

This is like being pulled into a soda straw.

 

I'm not claustrophobic, but I'm changing my mind...

 

How am I supposed to breathe from my belly?

 

I should just close my eyes.

 

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

 

Damn this machine is loud!

 

Bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap

 

Okay, I'm just going to drive myself crazy if I keep focusing on that.

 

My nose itches.

 

My shoulder hurts. It really, really hurts. I wish she would have put a small bolster under it or something.

 

Stop twitching!

 

Damn this machine is loud.

 

I wonder how much longer?

 

Coffee would be good right now. Mmmmmm. Coffee.

 

Breathe.

 

Is this safe?

 

What if this shows that I really do have an evil tumor after all?

 

Breathe.

 

Damn this machine is loud.

 

Focus on the news on the headphones... (NPR).

 

They are requiring Brazilian citizens to help cover 80% of the construction costs for the Olympics of 2016.

 

I would not go. Not in a million years. Too unsafe. What were they thinking holding it there?

 

I need to swallow. Can I do that?

 

Man this thing is loud...

 

I want toast for breakfast. Butter and honey. Mmmmm.

 

I should not have crossed my ankles. My ankles are too boney and now it hurts.

 

Jeez this is taking forever...

 

I wish I could know what is wrong with my shoulder RIGHT NOW.

 

How does this machine work anyway? I need to check Wikipedia as soon as I get home.

 

As soon as I get home I can have coffee. And toast.

 

Bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap, bwap

 

Sigh.

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Simple Woman's Daybook Entry

 

 

Outside my window... It is 7:46 a.m. and the sun is shining, the birds are singing and the snow is melting.  We got a total of 16 inches of snow between Mon-Thur.  All up and down the Front Range we got a thick blanket of heavy, wet and dirty snow.  The dirt came from the SW region of Colorado, where a large amount of dust is blowing in the atmosphere, due to extreme drought conditions.  The snow clouds came from that direction and picked up all of that dirt and dust, and then dumped it here, along with inches of fresh powder.  It has happened before, but it is still disconcerting to see dirty snow, as far as the eye can see.  Anyway, I think the remainder of it will melt off today.  Which is good, because it is supposed to snow again tomorrow. 

I am thinking... About a lot of stuff.  I said a lot of what was on my mind last night on my feather picking post, but it wasn't very nice, so I ended up deleting six paragraphs and left just a couple of sentences.  They seemed to sum it up well, but I am still deeply troubled.  Why?  Because multiple friends on Facebook keep posting links to articles from a "news source" called Natural News.  Here is the most inflammatory example: *caution - read with a garbage can on hand.  You'll need it for vomiting purposes. This was posted the DAY after the bombing.  ONE DAY, and Mr. Health Ranger thinks he's got it all figured out.  This is fear-mongering.  This is why we have a mental-health crisis in our nation.  This guy needs his mega-phone taken away and to be sent to the corner to think about what he said.  Here is a nice piece that sums up my thoughts on this matter pretty well.  I am pretty sure that the Facebook friends that post the occasional links to Natural News don't read my blog...but if they did, I would ask them to dig deep down and think about whether spreading around conspiracy BS is a productive and helpful pastime.

I am thankful... That things have calmed down in Boston, that the remaining suspect has been caught, and that healing can begin.  I am thankful that my cousin Jeff and his wife Chris are safe.  Chris crossed the finish line several seconds before the first bomb blast.  Jeff was keeping pace with her on an adjacent street when he saw/heard/felt the bomb.  He had no idea if she was okay, but for the next hour he was afraid of the worst, as he searched and searched for her.  He finally received a text message from her that she sent from a stranger's borrowed cell phone that she was okay and they reunited shortly after.  What a story.  Our local TV station interviewed them, along with several other Colorado runners.  It was surreal to see them on TV.  It was painful to hear their story - anyone's story for that matter, about how frightening it all was.  You just want to reach out and hug them..protect them.

From the Learning Rooms... We had a blue-banner week, thanks to the snow.  There is something about being holed up in the house due to a never-ending snowstorm that feeds the urge to read, write, and multiply fractions.  It also helped that we didn't go anywhere for three days.

In the kitchen... Shredded BBQ pork sandwiches are on the menu tonight.  Yum.

I am wearing... robe and pj's.

I am creating... nothing at the moment..

I am going... the grocery store, eventually.

I am wondering... WHY? I think the entire nation is wondering the same thing.

I am reading... Married to Distraction: Restoring Intimacy and Strengthening Your Marriage in an Age of Interruption by Edward Hallowell and Sue Hallowell.  Dr. Hallowell is also the author of Driven to Distraction, an awesome guide for parents of children with ADHD.  My husband has ADHD too.  Now first, let me preface this by saying that our marriage is very happy and healthy, thankyouverymuch.  I am just intent on keeping it that way.  I picked this book up at the library because the title intrigued me.  Sometimes my husband's ADHDness drives me batty, so I thought maybe there would be some helpful words of encouragement for me, his partner.  Sorta yeah, but the book is more about how to maintain a daily, almost ritualized focused connection, without interruption or distraction.  I think every couple could use that in their relationship, so that is why I am mentioning this book.  At the end of the book is a small section devoted to a "30-Day Reconnection Plan".  Here are a couple of sample sessions:

The idea is to 'meet' on a daily basis, for a 30 minute uninterrupted session to talk and share.

Day 4
"Before you meet for your present time today, think of the five smartest decisions you've made in your life.  They can relate to anything, from business, to dating, to school, to friends, to hairdos!  Just let yourself reflect on these five smartest decisions.  Write them down on a piece of paper.  Bring that paper with you to your present time.

When you meet, begin by guessing what is on your partner's list.  Don't be surprised if you're way off the mark.  It is simply useful for each of you to see from the other's perspective."

Day 14
"Before you meet for this session, pick some piece of art that matters deeply to you.  I define art broadly to include literature (prose, poetry, anything written), music, sculpture, painting, dance, film, video, origami, anything that is the product of artistic imagination.

Bring this piece of art with you to the session.  If it is a piece of music, bring your iPod or some other means of playing all or a bit of the piece of music.  If it is a painting or sculpture, bring a photo of it.  If it is literature, bring it with you so you can read some of it aloud.

During the session, share some or all of what you brought, as time allows.  You should save time to discuss the other person's selection, so each "presentation" should last no more than ten minutes."

See?  These sessions are a gold mine for good discussion fodder.  Every couple could benefit from this.  These are early-days dating discussions that are probably long-forgotten.  It will be interesting to revisit them.  Tastes change over the years, and you may find out all sorts of new things about your partner you never knew!  I can't wait to start.

We had a 'date' yesterday.  We needed to replace the battery in the van, so we left Jordan in charge of the kids for a bit, and drove over to Sears at the mall to get it replaced.  We walked the mall during our wait.  Then we picked up the van and drove to a small cafe to have some coffee and pastry.  It was nice.  I am so glad that we have reached the point where we can slip out for an hour here and there to have some time to ourselves.


In the garden...  Well, before the snow came, the peas were just starting to poke up through the soil, along with a couple of spinach leaves here and there.  The snow is just about melted, so I will go out in a bit and inspect them.  In the mailbox should be a package from Burpee - carrots, turnips, parsnips and lettuce.  I've never planted turnips and parsnips before, so we'll see how that goes...


I am hoping... For a good week.  We have no 'extras' this week, so the schedule looks pretty good.  Rylan's dance class was cancelled last week due to the snow, so I expect a make-up session will be scheduled soon.  I am also making an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon to look at my shoulder, so I hope I get an appointment this week.

I am looking forward to... A package from Rainbow Resource.  A curriculum order is always fun!  A workbook for Owen (ETC Book A), a student workbook for Jordan (History of US book 4), and something else... forgot what it was.

I am learning... not to Google images of bombings.  You can't get that stuff out of your head once you see it.   Don't do it.  Seriously.

I am hearing... 'Sweet Disposition' by the Temper Trap. Love this song.


Around the house... It is now 8:51.  (The more I type, the more my shoulder hurts, so I am slowing waaay down)  Jordan is watching Sponge Bob, and everybody else is sleeping... I think.  I'm not really sure, actually.  I have my headphones on.  Go me!  :)

We have nothing planned for today.  Dean and I are doing the receipts later, to see where we are in the budget.  We are a week away from payday, but our state refund just arrived (enough to ease the pinch you feel before payday, but not enough to dance around and throw dollar bills up in the air), but we might be able to buy another box or two of flooring and put it in today.

I am pondering... the likelihood of...

(HA!  When I was proofing this, I noticed I never completed my thought. I have no idea what I was going to say, so I guess I am not pondering anything - other than what it was that I was going to say at that particular moment...)


One of my favorite things... the patriotic fervor that sweeps over a crowd when good things happen -  when people work together.  The Boston and surrounding municipal PD's, the ATF and the FBI did an incredible amount of work this week.  They acted swiftly, they protected the community, and they responded heroically when things got dicey.  I love our country.  I love our laws that were designed to protect us.  I appreciate those who work tirelessly to see that our citizens are protected, that our rights are protected and that laws are followed accordingly.  I think that the way things went down in Boston is a reflection of the positive changes in law enforcement that have taken place since 9/11.

A few plans for the rest of the week... Nothing special to report here...


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing...

Colin, Owen and Rylan, 4/13/13, Fossil Creek Reservoir

To read more entries and visit a variety of other blogs, go here...


Feather picking...

My past week does not even compare with the events in the lives of others, but in my personal little world of One, I feel like a completely plucked-over chicken.

 

 

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Snowfall

This is Abby, our 8 yr old husky enjoying this morning's snowfall. I had very little notion that it was going to snow - it didn't smell like snow last night... I actually like those mornings when you wake up and there is a few inches of snow on the ground.

"Well look at that!? It snowed last night!"

Of course - I'm not the one that has to drive to work in it, so I may be of singular opinion here. I also enjoy the reaction from the kids when they wake up and see the snow. They instantly start hunting for their snow boots.

It's true that there are a thousand different types of snowfall. This one is heavy, thick and very wet. The flakes are small and coming down very close together. The air is muffled, but the streets are more slushy than snowy, so you can still hear the wet tire sound when cars drive by.
My favorite type of snowfall is the heavy snowfall with gigantic downy flakes. It doesn't happen very often - I can't even recall when we had one in recent years. My most favorite snowfall memory was a huge storm in the spring of 1992. I was living near Old Town, on Mountain Ave. It was a magical snowfall. By midnight a good 8 inches blanketed everything. I was itching to get out, so I leashed up my husky, Kai, and we went for a walk - just the two of us. Nobody was out except for the occasional car, lumbering down the road, with the layers of snow crunching and squeaking under the tires. It was not very cold at all, so we walked for a good hour. There was so much moisture in the air that the sky had a light, amber haze from the street lights glowing through the snow. The snow muffled all noise. All I could hear was my own footfalls, and the occasional jingle of Kai's collar tags. It was astoundingly beautiful. My only regret is that I can't turn to someone and ask, "Hey, do you remember that one snowfall we had where we got up and walked around during the middle of the night?". My beautiful Kai is long gone, but she loved the snow. She would go outside, curl up into a ball, and let the snow cover her for a bit. She was the perfect companion that night - it's like she totally understood why we were out there, rather than at home, in bed. She stood stock still, along side of me, as we stood on a couple different street corners and just watched the snow. I stood there, thinking, "I want to remember this. This is so achingly beautiful. I want to remember this snow. I want to remember how Kai kept me company on this beautiful, snowy night."

And I do. I'm thinking of you, Kai..



11/24/90 - 6/14/04

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What do you do?

 

Well it's been almost 48 hours since the Sports Medicine Guy (SMG) stuck a needle in my back.  He put it in the Infraspinatus, about 2 inches shy of the shoulder joint.

 

 

Imagine this if you will... A giant butcher knife sticking out from that exact spot.  It is stuck there, and it kind of leaves a burning sensation.  Every - EVERY - movement you make - no matter how subtle, that knife is stuck there, causing tremendous pain, and limiting how far you can move and how much force you can exert.  Even though it has been 48 hours, it hurts (almost) as bad as when he gave me that shot.  So I am going to go on record here - DO NOT ever agree to get a steroid shot to reduce inflammation.  EVER.

 

But - there is something happening here that even hurts worse than my shoulder.  (if that is possible, at the moment...)  I didn't exactly agree to this shot.  He just sort of did it.  He pulled in a nurse, and they did some weird, well-rehearsed routine where she holds the bottle upside down, high up in the air, and he inserts the evil syringe and pulls back the plunger.  Then she holds up a second bottle and they do the same thing.  He shakes the syringe to mix up the evil elixir of hell, and then sticks it into you.  THEN he asks if it hurts...and chuckles if it does.  Evil, I tell you.

 

I've had 48 hours to think about this appointment, and how (IMHO) it went drastically wrong...

 

1. The intake nurse takes my vitals.  She asks about the injury (there was none, which is what is so frustrating) and then about the scope of the pain.

 

2.  Then we have a conversation:

Nurse: What do you do?

Me: Well, I take Ibuprofen from time to time, ice it every day, and once in awhile I apply heat.  I've had seven physical therapy appointments, but I am not getting any pain relief, so that is why I am here.

Nurse: No, I was asking what do you do?

Me: I don't understand..

Nurse: What is your job?

Me:  Oh.  I'm a SAHM.  (totally unused to hearing this question any more..)

Nurse: Oh.  (making a negative, silent judgement call right then and there..)

Nurse: How many kids do you have? (the perfunctory question to ask right after you hear 'SAHM')

Me: Four.

Nurse: Oh my!  What ages?

Me: (pause to think because we are in the midst of birthday season..) 12, 6, 5 and 3.

Nurse: So what activities are causing you pain?

Me:  Anything and everything I do during a normal day.  Chores, cooking, shopping...lifting the youngest is the most painful .  I try to let my left arm do most of the work, but it is incredibly painful, still.

Nurse: I see.  (judgement call is being made here too)

 

3.  I put on a gown that is tied around me halter-top style, per nurses request.  I haven't been able to sport a halter top since I was about 10.  This is a little embarrassing.

 

4.  SMG comes in.  He pretends he is reading my paperwork, but I know he hasn't.  Why?  Because during the course of his questioning, he doesn't realize I have already had a shoulder x-ray done.  Just two days ago!  Twenty feet down the hall, just outside this door!  He pulls up my x-ray on the computer.  Hummph.  He assesses my range of motion.  He hears a clicking sound.  That seems to catch his attention the most.  He jumps to the conclusion that it is the bursa (it lies just underneath the clavicle, at the top of the shoulder joint) and that he will give me 'something' to calm down the inflammation.  And in the meantime, I should begin physical therapy.  (Remember - he hasn't really read my chart.). 

 

Me: I have done physical therapy.  I have had seven sessions - three with ultrasound.  And I have had very little relief - that is why I am here.  That is why I came to see my GP two days ago, and get a shoulder x-ray done.  Something is wrong, that basic physical therapy is not fixing.  Both the physical therapist and the GP think that maybe there is a tear in the rotator cuff, so that I why I am here to see YOU.  The GP was thinking that maybe an MRI might reveal the problem.

SMG: Well, I don't think it is presenting as a tear.  We'll see what this shot does for you.  If you are still in pain in six weeks, it may take another shot.

Me:  Wait... So is this going to be a chronic condition?  There is nothing I can do, personally, to help heal it?  Like special rotator cuff exercises or something?  (He is the SPORTS MEDICINE GUY, after all!)

SMG:  (chuckling) Well, the good news is is that your three year old won't always be three...

 

(Oh - just let me hike up this stupid balloony hospital gown so I can get off the table and smack you hard across the face.  Wait.  I'd have to use my left arm.  That wouldn't be very effective.  Nevermind.  Go ahead with your pig-headed, sexist, you're-obviously-not-an-athlete-so-it-doesn't-really-matter-if-you-never-feel-better explanation of why you won't live up to your professional creed.  Continue..  Please..)

 

SMG: I'm sure there are some exercises that your physical therapist can show you (as he clearly decides that showing me exercises is not part of his job description and edges towards the door), and that might help too.  (he leaves and the nurse leaves)

 

I can now remove the offendingly hideous balloony gown and get dressed.  Except that I can't because I can't use my right arm at all.  I actually cry because it hurts so damn bad.  I get dressed as best I can.  I leave the exam room and stop by the nurses station because I see the SMG standing there looking at a chart, and I need more information. 

 

Me: So, are there any special instructions with this shot?  Should I not use my arm much for the next day or two (because it hurts like hell anyway)?  Or should I move it around like you need to after a tetanus or flu shot?  Are there any side effects I should be aware of?

SMG:  Well, what I tell my other patients is to avoid any vigorous upper-body exercise for two weeks or so...  So just take it easy.

Me:  Oh.  (So, once again, SMG is making assumptions about me that I find offensive)

 

You know what?  It hurts.  My shoulder hurts.  I'd take the pain of natural childbirth again over this pain any day.  But what hurts even more is the dismissive practices of the medical profession towards those who do not present as the ideal patient.

 

What do I do?  No - the question should be What did I do?

* I used to be able to hike.  I could shoulder a backpack and go for miles.  And camp.  And do it again the next day.

* I used to be able to carry heavy loads and do heavy work.  Now I can't even cart around a fully-loaded laundry basket or lift the cast-iron dutch oven out of the cabinet.

* I used to be able to 8 hour waitressing shifts and handle all of the heavy work associated with that.  I'm now relying on the 12 year old to handle the majority of the food prep at this point.  And the toddler-wrangling, the laundry carting and so on and so forth.  Not fair to the kid...at all.

 

My body is aging and falling apart.  First my arches fell and I had to see the podiatrist for orthotics.  Then my IT band on my right leg inflamed, and the bursitis in my hip made it impossible to do more than hobble around the house.  Now this.  Three pregnancies and years of inactivity have taken their brutal toll.  Don't stand there, Mr. SMG and make assumptions about me.  I'm here in your office because I am asking for help.  Help me.  Don't just stick a needle in my arm and send me away.  I want help to heal and start taking care of my body so I can take care of me and my family for years to come.

 

To his credit, Mr. SMG did call me at home, at 6pm Friday evening to see how I was feeling.  This was a first.  I had to work to steady my teary-voice to admit that still it hurt.  A lot.  He didn't even skip a beat.  "Well, give it the six weeks and then we'll go from there..."

 

And so we're back to square one.

 

 

 

 



The Sadist with a Syringe...

 

My right shoulder hurts.  It. hurts. a. lot.  So much so, that I am forced to take desperate measures.  Like, take ibuprofen and stuff.  And go to a physical therapist.  I'm not a fan of popping pills.  (well, besides the anti-depressants).  I don't like masking pain because then I do stupid heroic stuff.  Like help the home-renovation effort by ripping out the carpet in a room and all of the tacking strips.  Then I lay around and cry on the couch for the next two days because it hurts too much to do ANYTHING.  So, I'm not a big fan of pain, but I am even less of a fan of hiding it instead of figuring out what is causing it.

 

So, today I went to see the Sports Medicine Guy at my regular doctor's office because I don't know what else to do..

 

Here is my history -

 

* the pain sort of started last July.  It was mostly a deep chest pain on the right side, level with my arm pit, my heart was racing at times and numbness radiated down my arm.  It was the wrong side, but I thought maybe I was having a serious cardiac issue.

 

* I went to see my GP.  She ordered an EKG, chest x-ray and a blood test.  Nothing.

 

* I wore a heart monitor for two weeks.  Nothing.

 

* The racing stopped, the squeezing sensation gradually went away (we think it was a stress response), but the pain did not go away.  A few days here and there I felt perfectly normal, but there would always be 'a point' where a shock of pain would get my attention whenever I did a certain movement.

 

* Over the past several months, that pain has increased and the range of motion has decreased.  It's gotten other muscles involved, and now my entire right rotator cuff, pectoral area and shoulder blade and bicep are involved.  I am right-handed, so ANYTHING I do hurts.  Lift a full glass of water?  Agony.  Reach for a box of muffin mix and toss it in the grocery cart?  It brings me to my knees.  Lift down the bottle of laundry detergent?  Better grab your ear plugs..  Lift my arm to press the garage door opener in the car?  Groan and close my eyes.  Walk and swing my arms?  Not happening.  Pull the comforter over me when I get in bed?  A little scream might eek out.

 

And yet life has to go on..

Laundry

Dishes

Lifting the three yr. old

Shopping

Books

Typing

Shampoo

Getting dressed

 

* I finally consented to physical therapy.  I've had seven appointments in the past four weeks.  Nothing.  But now I have incredible tenderness under my arm... is there a life-changing tumor growing and I don't know it???  (Lots of sleep lost over the past few weeks about that...)

 

* I went back to the GP a couple of days ago.  Shoulder x-rays.  Nothing.  But nothing is good because it means there is no life-changing tumor lurking under there.  Nothing is bad because there is still no explanation for the pain and loss of strength and mobility.

 

* GP says see the Sports Medicine Guy.  Maybe he will order an MRI.  A tear in the rotator cuff could explain a lot of things.  This could be good.  Surgery could fix things!

 

* Sports Medicine Guy pokes and prods, lifts, pushes and pulls.  Bursitis is mentioned.  Then he grabs an assistant.  And an evil-looking syringe.

 

* That evil syringe full of steroids that went into the back of my shoulder hurt so. damn. bad., I nearly cried...and choked back the urge to throw up.  Ten hours later it feels no better.  In fact, I feel like my right arm is absolutely useless.  So I'll type a bit and bitch a bit and maybe that will make me feel better.

 

Nope.

 

Nothing.

 

 

 



Tribal customs

 

 

This blog post began percolating in my head a few weeks ago, when I came across the tribal concept Quinn Cummings mentioned in her book The Year of Learning Dangerously. When she and her preteen daughter began the adventure known as homeschooling, Quinn spent considerable time looking for a group that she and her daughter could identify with and feel supported by.

Any time you make a lifestyle choice (like homeschooling for example) that lies just outside the accepted cultural norm, you're going to receive pushback. Your family and friends will question you, along with well-meaning strangers and maybe an asshole or two that wants to know why your children are hanging out in the cereal aisle at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday. Having a group you identify with is super-helpful when you start to have your semi-annual panic attacks that you are ruining your children for life or when you are changing science curriculums and you just don't know what to choose. It's more than that though - having a group of like-minded families to fall back on is the best way to keep your head in the game and your heart focused on the big picture - that you like your kids so much that you are willing to spend all day with them - even if that means teaching that poop goes IN the potty, what the three sounds of 'A' are and how to simplify fractions... ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

I've been with my 'tribe' for almost six years now. I can remember my very first 'official' homeschool Park Day. It was in the beginning of August, 2007. Rylan was a wee 14 mo. old and Jordan was a newly-minted seven. We made our way over to a group of women, sitting on blankets under the large shade trees of our city park. They welcomed me with open arms. :). They admired Rylan's attempts to toddle in the sand, shared some ideas about anything and everything homeschooling, and even shared some strawberries. I had found my people. These women have been a tremendous support throughout all of these years. We have welcomed many newborn family members as they came along - I can't remember a time when there wasn't a babe-in-arms. We have a shared history that I treasure very much. I don't see them as often as I used to - as the kids grow they get more involved in other interests, and so our paths cross with less regularity.

This past Wednesday, the stars aligned and the sun shone bright. Thanks to the power of social media, we all convened at the park - some making their one and only annual Park Day appearance. (That means you Shawn and Amanda ;). It was glorious. I was feeling low (see previous post). My friends politely listened to my rant and then I felt much better. Owen single-handedly decimated Deanna's popcorn supply. Two mothers nursed their babies. Kids came for sips of water and then disappeared again. I got a sunburn. And I felt totally rejuvenated. This is my tribe. These women know my history, and I, theirs.

In regards to having a 'tribe' within the homeschooling community - I can't think of anything else that will have greater influence on your success rate with sticking it out than that. You need families that 'understand' what you are going through. The annual cycle of emotional ups and downs. The myriad of choices you must make, all the while trying to honor the individual child. The delicate balance of mother vs. teacher. The need for knitting, good books, bloggy comfort, coffee and wine - in no particular order. I don't know where we would be right now in our homeschooling journey if I hadn't encountered this wonderful group of women and their great kids. This tribe is my anchor. I wonder if we should come up with some kind of tribal tattoo...

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On being the 'Polite Police'

All it takes is one witchy female to totally shit on your day and instantly force you to reassess your life and whether or not you are achieving optimum happiness.

 

I am not achieving optimum happiness. For me, optimum happiness is starting out my day by greeting my children, having a nice breakfast and starting up our school day. Instead, I get to start my day by wasting the first two hours fielding several emails on three different accounts. I have to send out an email or two to remind someone to 'be nice' on our homeschooling Yahoo group because of my VOLUNTEER position as Membership Coordinator. And then I get the pleasure of being responded to with rudeness, vitriol or complete ignorance as to what constitutes as proper email etiquette.

 

Well, you know what? I'm done. I don't even really relate to this group anymore. Most of my homeschooling mom friends have sort of faded to black - I don't see them anymore except a very rare here and there. I've lost my tribe, I've lost my way, I've lost my willingness to be electronically shat on by people I wouldn't care to know otherwise...

 

Not sure a little blue happy pill can fix this one...

 

 

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