Waylaid

OK - been gone for the longest time.  Sort of got thrown into a tail spin in early March - found myself in an emotional spiral over what I percieved as a  - I don't know - Betrayal? Abandonement? I actually schedule a counselling session over it, which I then cancelled, because the girl got sick.

Which has kind of been my month.  One or more of us have been very ill all month, I have been incredible busy - picking up tons of overtime, working in my little clinic (which I am probably going to close in June),  barely keeping up with social obligations and gymnastics doings.  Did I mention my stress level?  Anyway - things are settling, and I have come to a few realizations:

#1  Being a Grown Up SUCKS! - Now that I am make real money for the first time ever, I have to make decisions.  Retirement.  Health Insurance.  Debt management.  When your pay does not cover your basic, necessary bills, the extra money that shows up now and then is like a drink of cold water.  You use it, enjoy it, relish in the short lived luxury.  Now that my paycheck is consistently bigger than my basic bills I have CHOICES.  I could enjoy the money - I could really use furniture that I'm not the third owner of; window dressings;  an actual vacation that doesn't involve kid sports, camping or visiting family; or - I could put money into the 401K that my company will begin matching after a year - pay off the credit cards that the darling man used to make the house livable when we bought it, pay on the principal of mortgages and student loans.  Responsibility will win - kicking and screaming perhaps - but my sister is a consistent influence, and the original life plan of having the little girl support me in my old age is right up there with winning a lottery.  But seriously - making twice the money should not result in zero lifestyle change.  At least I'll have some kind of future - and the good new is that I did not invest BEFORE the economy tanked.


# 2 - having people that love you makes up for just about everything.


Easter approaches - last year we fed 97 of our closest friends and family :-), this year we will probably break 100.  Plus I have a week off, and since I don't have the kidlet full time, I'll get lots done, and it will be more smooth than ever before.  The boy child and his friend cleaned up the yard (for a price - there is always a price) and the "sorta daughter" cleaned my house today (pretty), so I believe I'll be all ready.

So that's the recap - I'll be glad when March is behind us.  April looks to be much brighter!

 

Almost State Champions

Freedom High made it all the way to the championship play-offs - go Patriots!  The game was intense, our boys were (dare I say?) out-played in the 1st half, and it appeared that the refs were a little biased.  In the second half our boys ROCKED.  Especially Ian.  I'm not a bit partial.  There was one goal made, lots of really good defense happening, but not enough to make up for the first half struggles.

Ian was adorable.  (I know 18 year old "men" are not adorable, more bad-ass in a fun-loving sort of way, but adorable, in my book).  He was totally working the crowd.  Freedom would make a great play, the crowd would cheer, if the cheering started to lag before the ball went back into play, Ian would signal us to keep it up.  Plus - he plays some kickin' hard defense.  I wouldn't want to run into him at top speed.  The girl took her camera - most of the pictures are, of course, of Ian.  I'll try to post on Facebook later today.


I have not been to very many soccer games, they usually conflict with gymnastics.  Last night we should have left early, because 10:30pm is too late for the girl with an early gym meet this morning.  But we stayed, and I have to say, I'm glad its over, 'cause I'm not sure how many obnoxious parents at soccer games I want to deal with in my life.  It was bad to the point of laughable bizarre.  I had no idea I was taking my child to an "R" rated event.

The fans for PHU (Palm Harbour University) were obnoxious, but I couldn't decipher most of what they were saying.  Some of the Freedom parents were totally over the top.  The guy behind me kept screaming at the Refs to put on a skirt.  I thought the word "Pansy" was out-dated, but it got a revival last night.  "Pussy" is still popular. "Girl" is apparently the worst possible thing to call a soccer boy.  And, when a player gets injured, and the coach comes onto the field to assess his injury, he probably does not need public encouragement to give the kid a "BJ" while he's there.  The standard obscenities were used.  

We watched part of the game ahead of us, and there was one security guy watching the game.  Our security guy watched the crowd, and after the 1/2, we had two, carefully watching the crowd.  There were no post game issues, but from the size and unruliness of the other fans, a different result in the game may have made a messier outcome.

I am now less critical of gym moms.  During moments of frustration, there is a lot of muttering, usually directed at the child that is not performing as well as the mom expects.  Sometimes I pounce on the offending parent, but it is relatively harmless, unless they forget that the video camera is running, with full sound.  Seriously, even the worst gym mom that I know is not as hard on her child as the girl is on herself.  And the parents do keep it at a low mutter, and for the most part we all trust our coaches and let them do their job - which includes disputing scores, so we are not screaming obscenities at the judges.  

I'm wondering what the effect would be to bring the soccer culture to a gym meet.  "Hey judge - what was THAT?  why don't you put some pants on?"  "You little pansy - you flip like a BOY."  "Hey strap on a penis and go play football, you Wimp."  Somehow, I think I'd probably get thrown out.   My daughter would never speak to me, and her friends would no longer be allowed to visit.

Wish us luck today.  Off to prepare for the gym meet.

 

One man's meat . . .

I was listening to some talk radio thing the other day on the subject of food, sort of.  The guest was suggesting that we should change how we define food.  Some sort of  calorie to nutrient ratio to meet the criteria "food."  So, veggies could still be food.   McDonald's french fries would not be food.  Even a big mac would probably not meet the mark.  

Just think; junk food, candy, soda - no longer food.  It could be regulated, controlled, and taxed like cigarettes and alcohol.  Maybe we would begin to see a trip to the local fast food dive in the same light that we now look at ice-cream shops.  "No, honey, you can't have chicken McNuggets, it will spoil your dinner."  "Maybe after dinner we can run over to BK for some fries."  

Of course if we actually followed this advice, the food industry would add enough "nutrients" to meet the criteria.  We already have "vitamin waters" and herbal sodas, it would not take much to get the chemical composition of our junk to have the legal mix of nutrients. So that wouldn't really change anything.  What if the criteria had to do with number of steps away from a live food source - so that overprocessed ingestibles would not be considered food.  

Would we have a limit on the amount of controlled ingestibles allowed?  What about open containers in our vehicles?  Government sponsored rehab programs for those with serious non-food ingestible addiction?

We already have enough crazy laws telling what we can or can't do or eat, or enjoy.  What we don't have is enough education and cultural reinforcement to prioritize good nutrition over convenience and "taste."  I also think that high salt, fat and sweet foods do not necessarily taste better, but they have those basic qualities that our primitive bodies interpret as "good."  In fairly recent evolutionary history more calories meant healthier.  Our bodies have not caught up to our knowledge, and our will-power is caught in the middle.

So have a nice big bowl of steamed veggies for dinner, berries for desert.  And maybe a whole bag of Cheetos as your non-food treat.

Bees and Buttocks

Bees are industrious creatures.  As individuals they are single purpose driven creatures without individual thought; as a colony they are an amazing, adaptable organism accomplishing task much larger than any individual bee could concieve of.  The most amazing thing is that there is no single nucleus of control in the colony.  The queen does not direct the motions of the workers, they work as a unit.

From a distance people may look like colonies of bees, especially city dwellers.  Often I have found individuals to be disorganized purposeless drones going about their mindless tasks with little thought.  OK - that is harsh, but rarely do we work as a collective, and what labor we do mindfully is rarely for the greater good of all human-bees.  Plus, for most of us there are many locus' of control that get diluted into stranger and stranger disorganized jumbles by they time they get to us.  We are constantly caught up in the bizare mindless "because that is the way we do it" of work, school, government, church, family, volunteer organizations, etc.


I am a good worker bee.  I HATE inefficiency.  I have been accused of being lazy, never by patients, or supervisors, or anyone directly involved with measuring my productivity, but by people (friends, lovers, coworkers) that observe my activities, without any knowledge of the result.   I am amazed by people that use a 20 step process to do what I can do in 3 because "it is the right way."  

Paper work is a good example.  I do as much as possible as soon as possible.  In other words, I know that when I discharge a patient, I have to write a comparison of where they were at evaluation and discharge, and if they have met their goals.  So - when I do an initial evaluation, I fill out the "at eval" section of the discharge summary.  When I do the discharge, I fill out the new information and: DONE.  I do my notes as I go.  I don't think I have ever had anyone wait for paperwork from me.  Why waste their time?  I have to do it eventually.


Although you would never know it looking at my car or closets - I am incredibly organized, especially when it comes to time.  Pathologically early.  And when I have built in free time, I don't fill it up looking busy.  Disorganization in a structure that I did not create is very hard for me, and I have learned over the years that in general, people would rather complain about the "extra work" than do anything to actually eliminate it.   So - with all my extra time, I will breathe, and meditate on bees.

Bad Dog! No!

The best thing about being a dog owner in Florida is the "Dog Beach." If you saw "Marley and Me", you have seen the urban beach scene with dogs and owners and all the heirarchy involved.  My dogs LOve the water, and Tampa is surrounded by it - so of course the word "beach" turns into frenzied tail wagging, jumping impatience around here.  But - finding the "right" beach.

Davis Island is close.  Very rocky, sometimes Pebbles comes home with bleeding paws.  Plus the owners drive me crazy, very little control of their dogs, lots of excuses for really poor behaviour, and tons of conversations that go "I just can't seem to make him stop. I don't know why he does that, He really has a mind of his own." OK - sniffing and humping is acceptible.  Agressive humping of my very prudish dog, is not.  Sharing balls is acceptable;  Stealing them, and not dropping even for your owner - bad.  Indiscrimainate fighting and aggression- bad.  Pray these people never have children.

Picnic Island is farther away, still in the Tampa city limits.  Beautiful beach, great dogs and owners.  Nasty water.  The dogs need baths immediately after, and there is no place to hose off.  The girl and I won't even get in the water with them there.

Fort Desoto is beautiful, perfect in every way, except that it is an hour and fifteen minute drive.  Once you are there, with the dogs, it is a dog day.  Roller blading on hot pavement - out.  Exploring the fort ruins - out.  Snorkeling, looking for sea-horses - out.

This weekend we went to a new beach - Honeymoon Island.  Beautiful state park, 45 minutes from home.  We spotted it from the ferry on the way to Caladesi, and were very excited.  Plus, afterwards it's 10 minutes away from Dunedin Brewery - Yay! Dogs and husband are happy.

Accept nothing is as good as it looks.  State parks require leashing at all times.  WHy call it a "pet beach?"  The rules are the same as every other beach.  The dogs had a great day, until we got caught.  Pasha (bad dog) was off leash, walking with his mommy.  This dog is perfect; he heels like he is glued to my ankles, straying to meet other dogs or chase seaguls only after asking permission, then coming right back.

We got the only warning on the beach.  The ranger/cop told me it was because I looked guilty, and put him on leash when I saw him.  This is true, but only because I had not been paying attention to signs, and thought we had strayed onto the people beach.  Even in the water they want dogs on leash.  Apparently the other owners know the rules, and have some sort of alert system, because they all had their dogs on leash before the cop got to them.  Maybe I was their warning sign.  Whatever - we will NOT be going back.

History and Hope

OBAMA
NOBAMA
barrak HUSSEIN obama
Mr. President

Not in my lifetime has a single man captured the American spirit to this extent.  Even the prejudices against his race, background and alleged religious affiliations make this a truly "American" story.   I like him.  and I say that from a very conservative republican background.  Yes - he will spend tons of money and increase our deficit.  In the mean time he will regulate the large corporate structures that have been surviving on government hand-outs and tax-breaks for years.  Ideally what being a republican means (for me) is pretty simple.  You work hard, you get what you earn.  If you can't afford it, don't buy it.  You play fair, you get to keep playing.  You screw-up, you take responsibility and fix it.

Well - corporate america - you haven't played fair, and you screwed up.  And, my fellow Americans, we have become a society that spends more than we make, and prefers socializing to hard work (seriously, when was the last time you were in a retail store or restaraunt where the employs were not plugged into their cell phones?)  I do not think that things will get better soon.  In his Inaugral speech, Mr. Obama promised us hope, but demanded a price.  I believe (hope) that things will begin to change.  Any short term fix will be a bandaid, and I do not believe that Mr. President is going to be slapping band-aids on as a permanent solution.  

I am proud that as Americans we were able to overcome our prejiduces enough to elect a Black man with a funny name.  I am disappointed that his race is viewed as the central issue, and for a lot of people was the deciding factor in voting (or not) for him.  I feel that for the first time in a very long time we have elected a true "Statesman"  a man that is a politician in the purest, and most original sense of the word.  A man that is willing to listen, and perhaps integrate, opposing views.


When did compromise become a dirty word?  We live in a democracy (sort of).  There is no democracy without compromise.  We have had leaders - what this country needs is a visionary.  Now we have one.  Will we be willing to make compromises and sacrifices to follow the vision?  I don't think that Barack will change a lot in 4 years, maybe not even (if allowed) in 8; but, I think he will design a structure that allows permanent change to occur.  I won't agree with a lot of his decisions.  But I do trust that he will make the tough decisions from a place of thoughtfulness, intelligence and integrity.

Favorite blurb from media and conversation:
"He is making it cool to be smart again"


And - we gotta love having kids in the white house.

"Success"

I grew up poor.  I never felt "poor."  We lived in a poor farming community, the major productive industry was cattle, which was locked up by a few long established family ranches, which provided very few jobs outside the families; some onion/potatoe farms, hay grown mostly in the wintering fields of the cattle ranchers.  And lumber.  Lumber was the main moneymaker for generations, and in the '70'and '80's the industry was falling apart.  There were fewer trees, tighter restrictions on where and how they could be harvested, laws for reforestation were in place, but those trees were not going to be ready to cut for a very long time.  Companies were closing mills, shipping rough cut timber over seas for processing, then selling our wood back to us for building.  The spotted owl was becoming the poster child for environmentalists wanting to eliminate all clear-cuts, and the loggers, millworkers and families were adapting by becoming hyper religious alcoholics.  Realize that these are the observations of a 10-15 year old girl with a deep, environmentally concious soul, and a very conservative republican up-bringing. 

Anyway - My mother was a master at instilling in us a sense of self-worth that had nothing to do with money.  We didn't have a lot of things, but I never felt it was because we couldn't afford them - it was always more like, we didn't need them. My parents did not believe in any kind of waste, everything was re-used, composted, saved if it was at all salvageable, re-worked and put to a different task.  My mother could have been Macgyver.  If anything I left home feeling slightly superior to the rest of the world.  (In subsequent posts I will probably write about all my feelings of inadequecy, low self-esteem, anger, etc.  But, hey we are complicated beings, and I have a lot of convoluted, complicated, conflicting personality traits).

During all of this chaos of starting a new job, having everyone congratulating me, having the Happy Husband, and Happy Child, express their excitement about reduction of worry, etc.  I have not been excited.  I keep thinking when I get the big check I'll be more excited, or that right now I'm just tired from working a couple of 50+ hour weeks and trying to get the new system all figured out, and soon I, too, will be happy.  

Then someone asked me how it was to be successful after years of struggling.    BOOM.  That's it.  I have never factored money into a measure of success.  Owning my own business isn't what makes me feel successful, my dad was a small business operator, and I never wanted that stress and time drain for myself.   I currently own a small practice, specializing in a field that very few others work in.  I am nationally recongnized.  I am, in a small way, able to contribute to the body of knowledge.  I am a very good manual therapist.  I am an excellent TMJ and chronic pain therapist.  I am one of the top pelvic pain therapists in the country (small playing field; I'm not bragging as much as it sounds).  I am, at best, a mediocre Home-Health/rehab therapist.  So, I'm making the big bucks doing something that I'm not very good at.  In my measurement of success, this job is actually a step down.  I am very happy that I made this decision, it is absolutely the best decison for my family, and it won't be long before I am a very good home-health therapist, but I do not in anyway feel more "successful" now that I will have more money, a means for getting out of debt, and can put money away for the future.

Some more insights into my "success."  I will not have extra free time with this job, but I will have less mental fatigue.  Which means I may be able to devote resources to some projects I have in my head.  Like developing a self-healing workshop for women with chronic pelvic pain, helping more people than I am now with individual treatments.  This job make actually give me the means to be more succesful, by MY definition.