disconnected

How is it that we define ourselves?  I've been pondering this for a couple of weeks.  Do you define yourself by your religion - Christian, Catholic, Muslim, Jewish, Atheist?  Is it your heritage - Scottish, Lebanese, Australian, Haitian? Is it your hair colour, eye colour, skin colour?  Your education?  Your job? Your children? Your body?  My guess is that for most it is a little of everything and it is always changing.  Everyday, every life experience must change the definition we have of ourselves.  How could it not? 
I wonder about pain.  Do you think pain is part of the what defines us?  I never thought I did until recently.  I'm not a sick person.  I've had my share of the regular stuff, of course.  And, earlier this year, I was diagnosed with a blood disorder, ITP, which doesn't really bother me at all.  But I've had joint pain a long time.  Half my life at this point.  No diagnosis, just annoying pain, always there in the back ground of my life.  Two weeks ago I got a diagnosis of a degenerative connective tissue disorder.  It's nice to know that I'm not crazy, I guess.  It was a bit of a shock tho I don't know why.  Anyway, I was given a type of medication that should help reduce my joint pain dramatically.   Great news, right?  It should be, for sure, so why am not taking the medication?  Oh, I started to take it.  But it made me feel nauseous.  And I have to take it twice a day forever.  And who am I if I don't have pain?  I really think this is it.  What if my pain goes away?  My pain has defined my space for so long how will I know where my body  begins and ends?  Where my fingers connect to my hands, where my hands connect to my arms.   My feet, ankles, knees, hips.  If I don't feel all my joints all of the time how am I connected together?  Does my pain define that much of me?  Will I be a different person?  It must change how I would define myself.  But how could it be for the worse?  Why am so afraid?  Not sure, not sure.  

Family drama-lama-ding-dong

Thanksgiving.  Too much turkey.  Too much dessert.  Too much family drama.
This is a bit of a digression from my usual topic but as it is so freshly burned into my mind I thought I would share.  Lucky you.  We had made it through one family dinner with minor incident and since this was D's, my darling hubby, family I thought we were good.  Well, I was sure wrong.  My family decided it needed to win the drama of the month award.  I come from a family of women.  Meaning that I have three sisters and we have 5 daughters.  No boys.  That's a lot of hormones swirling in one place at one time.  And swirl they did on Thanksgiving.  Like a vortex of black tar.   So sticky that one touch traps you and pulls you in.  Then it started to splatter.  Everyone got hit including the kids.  Not one was spared.  Some people left.  Some people stayed.  Food was served.  Wine was poured.  And drunk.  
Thankfully, (well, it is the season, you know) we are a family of avoiders.  No one will say anything to anybody and eventually it will blow over.  It always does.  This one was particularly ugly so it might take longer.  Also thankful that Canadian Thanksgiving is earlier than American Thanksgiving.  It gives us a few extra weeks to recover before Christmas.  Tho' I'm not sure it's going to be long enough.  
I'm going to spare you the whole story but it was about meatballs.  Seriously, meatballs.

You've got mail

Came home today with presents on my front step.  Oh. oh. ooooh.  A little bit of that anxious went away. Not as good as being there to be handed the boxes but close.  Yes, still good.  Before you go all disappointed in me let me tell you what it was.  Nothing really fun.  Grey ski pants and boots for Chick1 and a pair of legging for Chick2.  I wouldn't have bought the legging except that shipping was $8 unless I spent $8 more dollars.  The leggings were, basically, free and she needs pants.  A wee bit of a high, still.  
I wonder why we never seem to outgrow the excitement of something coming in the mail.  I love to watch my girls when their monthly magazine comes.  It is always utter joy.  My mom sends valentines cards in the mail to all her grandchildren because she understands the thrill.  You would think after 15 years of getting my own mail that it might not have the same magic for me.  Wrongo.  Everyday I check the mail immediately after the postal carrier comes.  Everyday.  I'm always disappointed when we don't get anything.  I'm also disappointed when all that is in there is a bill.  I've been known to leave a bill sitting in my mailbox for a week until I get something worth pulling everything out.  Yes, I just might be certifiable.  

Irreconcilable differences

I took a small step forward today.  I got rid of a really big toy that was taking up space in my basement.  Do you know Butterscotch the horse?  If not, feel lucky.  Butterscotch is an animatronic horse the size of a Shetland pony.  It makes noises, responds to your voice and is all round kinda creepy.  Well, Butterscotch has been looking a little worse for wear lately.  Her ears and tail had fallen off, her fur was rubbed off in many spots and she didn't really work anymore.  Actually, I think her neck was broken.  So I put her out to pasture today.  Which is a really nice way of saying she's gone to the dump.  I wonder how long it will be before the kids realize she is missing?  They did still play with her once in a while.  I wonder if Maple will wonder where she has gone?  Who's Maple you ask?  Maple is the other horse the size of a slightly smaller Shetland pony.  Yes, we have (HAD!) two horses.  Thankfully, Maple doesn't make any noises and she is in much better shape so she gets to stay, for now.  
You might think that it's not really a big deal that I threw out a broken toy.  But it is.  This  horse was a gift for Chick1 from my parents and sister and it was really expensive.  So I have extreme guilt over this.  How could I just throw out such an expensive gift?  I AM glad that I did get rid of the toy but I am still reconciling my feelings.  It seems to me that it just might be irreconcilable. 

Revelations

I'm not a great sleeper at the best of times but when I have an idea, plan, problem it is much worse.  The other night I was awake most of the night as my brain reeled with what I wanted/needed to do.  It's funny how revelations come about.  Mine were like a chain reaction. My first and initial reaction to my children fighting was that they have no idea how good they have it.  Next, they are spoiled, then, they have too much stuff, and lastly, I buy too much stuff.  My whole plan was to unspoil them so they have a better understanding of what it means to have something.  But in mulling this over in my head I realize that this is less of a lesson for them than it is for me.  This is really and truly my problem, not theirs.  As much as the hunt is a high the realization that I need to stop is like bitter medicine...difficult to swallow.  
I'm flawed.  Well, at least, I've never claimed that I wasn't.  Actually, I know many of my flaws.  Some I love, some I hate but I accept them all as my own.  I just never realized that shopping was one.  Really.  I have always prided myself on being thrifty.  I don't spend a lot on myself.  I always look for the very best deal for everything.  How is this a problem?  How could this possibly be a problem?  Well, it's not.  But when it becomes buying for the sake of the good deal that the problem arises.  That is the BIG revelation for me.  

The plans and the progress

I have plans, yes I do.  In fact, I love to plan.  Plan dinners, plan parties, plan trips.  I even have a plan for unspoiling.  Great plans, yes they are.  I am going to methodically go through every part of my house and get rid of STUFF and then not buy anymore STUFF.  It's a good plan, right? Yeah, I think so too.    Whew.  That's out of the way. The progress?  Like, how's it going?  Well, I haven't bought anything in 3 days.  That's pretty good.  As for the rest....not so well.  I guess follow through is a problem for me.  I look at my house and I just get overwhelmed.  I have no idea where to start or even how to start.  I've checked out different websites on how to do this and they sound good to read but when I have tried in the past to put them place I just haven't had any luck.  I do not fault the website as I know some that have had great luck with them.  I just really suck at it.  I've considered hiring someone to come in and do it for me but that feels a bit like cheating.  I think that if I don't do this mostly by myself it might not stick.  I'm afraid that if I try and I fail it's worse than not even trying.  Faulty logic, certainly, but reprogramming one's brain isn't easy.  

Black Friday Reality

This not buying is hard.  I haven't bought for 2 days and already I feel anxious.  These 2 days I have spent an enormous amount of time looking online and in catalogues at STUFF.  But it's only the things we need or could need or for Christmas so it's okay.  Chick1 and Chick2 (my girls) do NEED a couple of things.  Snowsuits for both, pants and underwear for Chick2.  I've been searching for the snowsuits.  This is the kind of purchase that is hard for me.  It gets cold here in the winter.  Like -40 cold.  They both walk to school so they need warm suits.  NEED them.  And yet the ones I want to buy are great quality and are even on sale so why don't I just get them?  It's not a good enough sale.  I want/need them to be cheaper.  It's killing me that I'm going to have to spend that much to get what we need.  In the end I will order them because I know it's worth it.  And besides, ordering them online means it gets shipped to my door.  And when that happens it's just like Christmas.  Breathe deep, baby, you'll feel better in just a minute.
I'm hoping to experience Black Friday shopping this year.  I've heard it's the ultimate in bargain shopping.  I'm dying to go.  I've got a few choices on where I could go.  Just 3 hours away is half decent US shopping, 8 hours is a great outlet mall, or Phoenix, where my parents have a house so I wouldn't have to pay for a hotel.  I've researched the cost of flying and rental car vs driving and paying for hotel.  It's close to the same.  Of course, if I drive I could by more and bigger b/c I wouldn't have to worry about taking it home on a plane.  I'm buzzing just thinking about it.   
As my buzz starts to wear off I remember reality.  Reality is that my kitchen is in desperate need of repair.  Reality is that I need to upgrade my schooling.  Reality, reality, reality.  Reality is Chick1 and Chick2.  

Getting high

I love a good deal.  It's my love, my desire, my compulsion, my obsession, my addiction.  I can't turn away from a good deal no matter where it is.  Stores, online, garage sales.  They are all my haunts.  I'm in constant search of something new, different, well reviewed and cheap.  Nothing gives me a bigger high then a great find.  If you could stand in our toy area I could tell you what I paid for almost everything in there.  For example, can you believe I bought a complete Blockus game for $1 at a garage sale?  And Apples to Apples jr for $1 at the same spot?  I was so excited.  Quality games for a steal.  I'm also a fanatical researcher.  I can sit and read reviews of products for hours.  So when I find something I've researched at an unbelievable price it is the ultimate high.  I can't wait to tell everyone.  I call my sisters, my mother, my friends.  I Facebook it, tweet it.  And every time that someone is surprised, jealous, comments it's like inhaling again.  Who needs drugs?  Just take a whiff of that deal.
I don't always need what I buy.  Actually, I rarely need what I buy.  But to walk away?  Too hard.  I can justify it.  I run a home daycare.  I like the daycare to have educational and interesting toys.  I can write them off on my business.  See, easy.
I know it has to stop.  There are lots of reasons.  I have a little house and it's bursting at the seams.  Oh, the money I will save.  The chaos in my house is causing me angst.  These are all valid points and reasons.  The biggest one of all is two little girls.  My highs are affecting them.  And I love them too much to continue.  So this is the Fall of their unspoiling.

Too much STUFF

My daughters are spoiled.  It's my fault and I'm taking ownership of it.  I'm just hoping I haven't realized this too late to do something about it.
I know that this didn't happen overnight and I have not been oblivious over the last 8 years.  But I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until the other day.   Brookes (my dear husband) went on a golf trip so I was single parenting.  I have been very lucky in my parenting life not to have had to single parent very often.  I give hats off to people that do it on a regular basis because it is not easy.  Anyway, we had a pretty good 5 days, the girls and I.  I knew there was a store clearing out toys so on the last solo night I took them and let them pick out a few toys each.  They were both so excited and told me how I was the best mom in the whole world.  Now, don't worry, my self esteem is not dependent on my children liking me.  Most of the time I'm the worst mom in the whole world and I'm okay with it.  Of course, a little adulation is nice some times.  Part of my buying them these toys was selfish.  I wanted a few minutes of peace and time to myself.  It didn't happen.  They argued and screamed and fought all morning.  I ended up yelling empty threats.  Not my best moment.  I took it all away and after they cleaned their rooms I kicked them outside.   As I scrubbed the kitchen floor a lot of stuff went through my head.  Why are they like this?  The neighbours girls aren't like this, at least not that I see.  What is the difference?  Then the clouds cleared and I realized that STUFF is the difference.  My girls just have too much stuff.  How can they possibly appreciate things when they have too many things to even look at?  They can't.  And the too much STUFF?  It's my fault.