It's official

Today I got the official diagnosis, I definitely have ADD. What a relief.

I really enjoy talking with my new friend for many reasons. She's easy going, but, straight forward. She's factual without going over my head. She's genuinely concerned, and understands. She's not judgemental. She is there to help me. Conversely, I'm ready for the help.

My head has filled with memories of the past over the last couple of days since we first talked about ADD. So many things started to make sense, so many judgements I've made of myself have been proven false, and many others proven true. I actually realized yesterday that I have some awesome strengths. That was probably the first time that I've had such a thought. All these things about myself which are related to the ADD, I usually thought were negatives. Now I realize that they are not bad things, and they can be used to my advantage!

We did an assessment today, to confirm and officially diagnose the ADD. After rating a series of questions from zero to three (zero = the absence of; three = extreme presence of), there was no doubt that my new friend had hit the nail on the head. It was very interesting listening to the questions, and realizing that all these things about me were for a real reason. I'm not just stubborn, impatient, and judgemental of others. I'm actually moving so quickly that I get frustrated easily when others aren't moving at the same speed. And, that speed is quicker than most others around me. Sometimes, even I can't keep up.

What keeps coming to mind for me is my kids. I need to be able to slow down enough that I will be able to recognize the symptoms in my kids. I want to be able to parent them the way they deserve to be parented, rather than be the nagging, expecting-too-much kind of mom for whom nothing is good enough. I want to be able to slow down long enough to enjoy activities with my kids, and enjoy their enjoyment. I want to be able to listen to them without them feeling like I'm not really there. I want them to grow up able to cope with school, friends, and life in general. I don't want them to have to feel that they don't measure up, and try to over compensate in other ways.

I want my daughter to feel pretty. I want my son to feel handsome. I want both my kids to feel valued, wanted, and able. I don't want to get in their way just because I can't wrap my head around getting through the day.

I feel empowered as a mom because I now have the awareness, the tools, and the knowledge to watch my kids, and offer them guidance. I can take steps to help them if they need it, but also to let them flourish in their own ways without making them feel that their own way is the wrong way, or isn't good enough. By healing myself, I can be a better mom.

My new friend and I talked today about my relationship with money. We identified and agreed that the relationship isn't truly about money. There's something else there. There's something behind the self-deprivation, the self-denial, the negative feelings that come to the surface with money. All the money in the world won't change the feelings that exist, and that's the core I need to reach for and explore. What makes me so resistant to doing for me? It's more than the usual "mom puts herself last", which is common among mothers. I don't want to show my children that I don't value myself, and that I am not worth being valued by them. I want my kids to see their mommy as someone to look up to, to respect, and who is worthy. I don't want to be the Mommy who did without and became bitter and couldn't be a happy person. I certainly don't want my children to become any of those things. So, it's time to break that pattern in myself, and find the real me.

I have now left the computer at least four times. Twice to go to the kitchen and come back empty handed, twice to go into my daughter's room to intervene as she made mess after mess, rather than cleaning up one thing before moving on to another (per the rule in the house). Now I understand why some of the questions on the ADD assessment were about whether I tend to interrupt people when they're talking, or enter conversations I'm not initially included in. Blush, blush..... :)

So, I have to figure out why I deny myself. Why do I neglect me? What is it from my past that caused me to develop this way of thinking? Then, how do I correct it? I am anxious to get to the root of that so that I can finally treat me, and in turn, be more giving in the right ways to my family.

The journey has only just begun, so I'd better get my seat belt on and buckle up for the ride.

Three little letters....

...which aren't very little.  They've actually put my life into perspective.  They've changed the way I think about myself.  They've made me feel pretty normal, and more accepting of the way I am.

Attention Deficit Disorder

OK, so what's the big deal about those three letters?  They have explained much of who I am today.  The struggles I've faced with so many things in my life are explained by ADD.  My new friend and I were talking more today, and she told me that she feels that I have ADD.  I cried tears of joy after hearing her say that.

Nobody has ever been able to tangibly explain why I find myself unable to do things like send a letter, make plans in the near future, or comprehend something I've read.  In my youth, I was diagnosed with learning disabilities, primarily in math.  All the social workers, learning disability assistance, and tutoring didn't help me understand what I was being taught in school, or why it was so hard for me and not other kids.  

There are just so many pieces that have come together to complete the puzzle in my life, I just don't know how to put it into words.

As I sit here, I have so many thoughts spinning in my head, I can't stop them long enough to catch one and put it into words on this screen.  They aren't able to get from my brain to my fingertips.  I'll just try to brain dump.


I am clausterphobic, but I love crowds.
I love sports and can follow a game, but, can't remember what happened in the last period/half/quarter/inning.
If given $10, I can't spend it because I can't settle on what to spend it on.
I am super productive when my plate is full (even overflowing), but find it hard to complete one task when I have the time to do something uninterrupted.
I get bored easily.
I get frustrated when people move slowly, or not at my pace when we do something together.
I have over 350 friends on FB, and I have no idea how that number got so large.
I get overwhelmed quickly.
I start many things, finish few of them.
I thrive on structure, but, am sometimes lax within that structure.
I channel surf (quickly) on the radio in my car, and can tell you what each song is as I pass it up.
Oh, there are so many more.


I have been frustrated with myself for years, always thinking that I was just neurotic, crazy, or otherwise somehow deficient in some necessary skill that I should have.  Should I have it?  Why should I?  Because there's no reason I shouldn't have that skill.  Well, now there is a reason.


I probably have the skill, but putting it into practice is another thing altogether.  I can multitask 'til the cows come home, and people ask me how I do it.  I ask, in my mind, how they are unable to do it.  


As I sat in my new friend's office today, I could physically feel the difference in my chest as it relaxed, as it released, and as I accepted the words my new friend was speaking.  Seriously.


I would never allow myself to put a label on something about myself.  There are people in the world with real problems, real illnesses, but not me.  My new friend wholeheartedly disagreed.  She said there is something in me that exists, and is effecting my life, and can be treated.  Wow, there is an answer.  Someone else sees something about me and gave it a name.  I am not ashamed, I am not upset, there is nothing to be ashamed or upset about.  


I now have a name for what is behind my coping skills, habits, and other means of managing my life.  There is a way to help me with the difficulties I face each day because of those things.  And now that I have a name for it, I realize that this is a daily struggle.  Planning, scheduling, making lists, and having to follow the plans, schedules and lists.  I'm highly annoyed when something strays from those.  It's a miserable feeling when I can't keep up.  Of course, the pace is nearly impossible to keep up with, so it's a stage set for failure.  As a result, I compensate by adding another plan, schedule or list.  And so it goes.


I really feel redeemed.  I don't have to live this way any more.  I can work on ways to get past the disappointment, frustration, and depression I've been living with.


What makes me happiest is that I can work on my own behaviour, and emulate the right behaviours for my children, and try to lay some good groundwork for them so they don't learn the wrong ones from me.  My biggest fear has been that one or both of my children would "turn out like me". That is to say that they would self-deny, feel badly about themselves, or otherwise have the same frustrations and difficulties that I have because of something like ADD going undiagnosed.  Of course I can't prevent that altogether, I know this.  I can't make them perfect or free of difficulty in their lives.  What I can do is be a healthy mother, so they have a better chance of growing up healthy. 


There is a genetic component here.  I am not alone.  I come from a nice long line of folks with the same personality streak.  This didn't just happen to me overnight, in the last few years, or since I got married and had kids.  It is, however, something that I can live with, treat, and manage.  And, I can be happy.


After having my Barbara Walters "I said I wasn't going to cry" moment in my new friend's office, I really felt as if so many questions had been answered, and they were questions I had never even asked.  People talk about "breakthroughs" or having "that moment", and I honestly never understood what they meant.  Now I do, because I just had one today.  I had my breakthrough, I had that moment.  And it was so cool.


I have ADD.  There, now I said it.

The best $19.99 I've spent in ages...

OK, I've discussed my issue with spending money, so that aside, I have to admit that this responsibility chart has paid for itself already.

The Melissa and Doug Magnetic Responsibility Chart has saved so much of my sanity, and helped my feeble little brain manage the challenges I've faced with Ethel lately.  I have struggled with the best way to develop a rewards system for her, whereas she can take control of her own behaviour based on expectations that she and I set together.

Paper charts are great, but the drawbacks prevented me from utilizing them to their full potential.  First, I don't have a working printer at home, so I have to try to remember to print them during one of my three days in the office.  Not happening.  When I do print, though, now what do I do with it?  Where to hang it?  How many should I print?  What tasks should we choose to write on the chart?  How should we keep track?  Where and when will I buy stickers for the chart (back to my resistance to spending money)?  Holy crap, it's a stupid chart!!

Anyway, paper charts proved unsuccessful for us.  There are still some taped to her bedroom door, half filled with stickers because at the end of the day, we were often too tired to tackle the placement of stickers on the chart.  We'd run out of yellow stars, or red hearts, or something would be wrong with some part of the process, and we'd end up not going back to the chart the next day.

I talked about the chart when I bought it, and today Ethel rewarded me with the best return on my investment I could have asked for.  First, she cleared the chart of all the magnets by herself, and started to think the board over this afternoon.  We used a dry erase marker and put "x" on the tasks which are required for her to get a reward.  Brushing teeth is an every day "x".  Picking up toys has an "x" on our stay home days.  You get the idea.  Today she erased the "x"es from last week, and started it new.  OMG, this was so cool to watch.  She showed me that she would do all those things every day so she could get a prize next week.  I asked her if she would get a prize this week, and she replied (correctly), "No, I was whining on these two days".  Two days last week she had spells of endless whining and complaining for which I told her she would not get a magnet.  She was fine with it then, and knew today that it meant no reward.

Later, when she was cleaning her room after her quiet time, Fred asked if he could play with her.  She replied, "No, I'm cleaning up, and I have to finish or else I have to take the magnet off my board and I won't get a prize".  A puzzled Luke exited her room, not quite sure what to make of the answer he got to his question.  Luckily, at the age of two he quickly forgot his disappointment and moved on. :)

Tonight at bed time, Ethel and I put magnets on the tasks she successfully completed today, and before we were about to finish up our routine, she pointed out that we'd forgotten a vital task from the board.  Picking out this week's outfits!  She held the magnet out for me to see, reminding me that we had one more thing to do tonight.

Most of her clothes had just been removed from the dryer, so I brought the basket of clothes to her room and she carefully picked out her outfits for the week, all the way down to the socks and panties.  Once that was finished, she sorted and put away all her panties in her drawer.  "I'll put them in here organized, Mommy".  It was too cute!

Ethel has begun to take charge of her daily responsibilities, and almost every day she points out something that she's done to earn a magnet on the board.  Today she took another step and worked on the chart all by herself without prompting.  Wow, that's one less thing I had to worry about and fit into our evening.  On top of that, she showed her understanding of the whole concept of the board.  It was one of those moments where I realized how much she's grown up, a bittersweet feeling.

Here she is, standing with her chart outside her bedroom door.

My little girl is growing up.

Me time, part 3

I've come to look forward to my Sunday morning alone time. Today was no exception, and I couldn't wait to get to my reading for the morning. I chose to leave Bella at home and concentrate, instead, on the book my new friend let to me on Wednesday. I'm amazed at how much I've read in the book. I've made more time for this book than I have for anything else for myself in quite a long time. That, of course, is the whole idea right now, and is much of the reason my friend lent me the book.


Healthy Selfishness by Drs. Richard and Rachael Heller is a book about finding the balance in your relationship with yourself and with others. It's about not cheating yourself of the things that you want and need. It's an aid to those of us who deny our feelings and thoughts, replacing them with false beliefs about ourselves and our relationships. According to the authors and their matrix for measuring self-denial, I am a Level 3 Self-Denier. I suppress my feelings and needs in favour of meeting the needs of others. I discount my own feelings when faced with what I perceive to be opposition to those feelings. I suppress my needs so as not to conflict with the needs of others. I overly accommodate. I overly sacrifice. I don't serve myself first, I leave myself out.

This past several days, since I began reading the book, have been a time of discovery for me. This book describes the struggle I've waged against myself ever since I can remember. I've been thinking about events and situations in my life in an entirely new light. I'm beginning to see how I got to this place where I am prisoner to self-depricating thoughts, and a total lack of respect for myself.

I'm not one to reach out for help, especially not from a book. I am at a place in my life, though, which is not a place I want to be in. I am riddled with guilt, fear, and uncertainty in almost all aspects of my life. I've convinced myself that I am destined to live this life, and that there is no other way. I am realizing that dating back into my early years, I have denied my needs, invalidated my feelings, and worked to please others at the risk of losing my own happiness.

The act of going out each Sunday morning has not been an easy one for me. There are so many things involved that most people probably wouldn't think about. I was assigned the task of leaving my house for a set period of time at a set time and duration on a weekly basis. This could be Friday night, it could be Saturday afternoon, as long as the date and time are consistent, and everyone knows and expects it. My husband and I, together, agreed that Sunday mornings would be my time. I chose 8-10AM, which we both agreed was a good time. Sunday mornings are his day to get up with the monkeys, under the assumption that it would also be my morning to sleep in. OK, let's be real, sleeping in is something I haven't done in over 5 years now, and I find it almost impossible to do. I hear the kids stir before they stir, and once I'm up, my brain hits the ground running long before my mind and body catch up. My brain is already making lists, planning days, scheduling chores, and thinking about meals. It's pretty brutal. So, Sunday mornings are a good time for me to get up and go, since it doesn't interfere with my sleeping, any activities, and is generally an open time for all of us. The idea behind my leaving the house is to give myself a break from my role as Mommy (at least in the physical sense), and give my husband that time to embrace the role of Daddy without my interference. Interference meaning that the kids will know they have to turn to Daddy, and Daddy is allowed to play his role without my putting my nose where it doesn't belong. We both need to be allowed to play our respective roles without being made to feel we're doing it wrong, something which Daddy gets cheated of more often than not with me around.

Breaking from my role is not easy. I have become a control freak to an extreme. Leaving the house, and leaving things behind me is one thing I don't do enough of. Getting in my car that first Sunday morning was the first step in my taking alone time. Next was the battle of where to go.

I described my choice of venue after my first outing a couple of weeks ago. Originally I had thought about the library, but for one thing it's not open at 8AM, and for another, I wanted some place where I would not be quite so alone. I don't need a mall or huge crowd, but need some noise around me. So, I settled on Panera, and my alone time assignment began.

Aside from the library, there are few options to choose from which are entirely free, at least in the winter. I can't sit in the park, I'm not an avid enough runner yet to consider a morning run in near zero degree temps, and visiting a friend would be fine, but wouldn't really give me true "alone" time. I know I don't *have* to be solo every week, but, for now I need to be in order to return my focus to me. With so few free options, my mind reels over how much my alone time will cost me. See, for me, money is a huge issue. Even spending $2.00 for a refillable cup of coffee is very challenging. I can't describe it in terms that would make much sense to others, but, spending money, especially on myself, has become next to impossible. I find it hard to justify myself getting anything when I know we have unfinished projects in the house, the kids might need x, y, or z, and if I could instead spend that money on food for my family, that's what I'd do. One year I tried bi-weekly manicures, and I kept that up for about four months. Then when finances were tight one week, I canceled the next appointment and never went back. The following year I decided to do something I'd never done before and got a haircut with a color. Yes, I'd had hair cuts before (never with any regularity), but never the color part. That has always seemed so frivolous to me, and I never felt that it was something I deserved, or should spend my money on. But I did it. I think that year, I went four times. That was a LOT for me. Again, though, before that last appointment, finances were tight, and rather than reschedule until after the next pay day, I canceled and never went back.

I try to find the negative in things when I see them at the store, convincing myself why I should not buy it. The kids are too young for that toy, that game will suck up all of Daddy's time, that thing would be cool but I'd get bored of it quickly...the inner conflict continues. It goes on in the background of my mind, but it takes front and center in my decision making. Only when I decide to deny my thoughts, and throw all caution to the wind will I actually slap that money down and bite the bullet and buy something. Push really has to come to shove, though, and usually I am faced with the option of buying said item, or explaining to someone why I don't want to. That would mean, though, revealing my inner struggle, and nobody wants to be burdened with that, so I give in and put all the dangers of spending that money aside, and I'll buy it. It could be something as simple as a candle, something that would make me feel good, but I won't do it.

So going to Panera is a huge step for me. To spend money on myself, and combine that with time spent on me, that's monumental. This morning, seeing a $5 in my pocket, I felt secure that I would be OK even getting a little snack on top of the coffee, and I headed out.

Today I brought Healthy Selfishness rather than Twilight, and I was excited to get to reading more of it. I carved out time Wednesday and Thursday nights, and I knew I'd make much more progress this morning. When I got to Panera, I brifely scoped the seating, only to find that the two comfy chairs and the booth I sat in the first week were all occupied. Today is a bright, sunny day, so I decided to sit near the front of the restaurant and take in the beautiful light. No booths over there, no big comfy chairs, though. There are two long bar height tables, but I ruled those out because I am one person, those would be for a small group. Even though I'd benefit from the most direct light, I opted for a little 4-seater table next to the tall tables. I'm not confident enough to stand and look around long and hard to find that just right spot in the restaurant, so I quickly chose an open table and stuck with it.

I mentioned the first week how anxious I sometimes get when ordering a coffee at one of these coffee places. Luckily, Panera has three sizes, and despite having names other than 'small, medium, large' on their menu, they still acknowledge this language and will give you the size you are looking for. I've gotten used to it in my now three visits. What I'm still unsure of is how one gets the elusive mug instead of disposable cup. The disposable cup has its merits, since I can refill and take a hot coffee home with me when I leave. Still, I feel like I haven't graduated to the elite level of the ceramic mug. I also tend to prefer reusable over disposable, but, I'll save that Earthy talk for another post at another time. Anyway, I figured today I'd mix it up a little and instead of ordering a large or grande coffee, I'd tell the girl taking my order that I wanted a cup of coffee. So, I did just that and ordered the chocolate pastry and a cup of coffee. Sadly, I discovered that the 'cup of coffee' is not the mug, it's the small disposable cup. Next week I just might tackle the ceramic mug issue, but for now I was satisfied with my choice, and I took my seat.

I sat with my back to the door, with a not so great view of the ordering counter. I did this on purpose because my tendency is to people watch. With this book in hand, I knew people watching had to take a back seat, and my focus needed to remain on the reading. Still, there were some people that caught my eye regardless. My table was situated in the middle of the carpeted area at the front, with benches and small tables along the wall, tall tables along the windows, and a select few 2 and 4 seaters. A vulnerable position, being in the middle of the area. Still, it worked. At the benches were two gentlemen, probably in their 60's, casually dressed and reading the paper, having breakfast, and discussing the issues in the news and their community. The table next to me on my right hosted a gentleman of about the same age as the other two, alone, reading the paper. He was dressed in a nice yellow sweater over a dress shirt, and a nice pair of pants. Perhaps this was his before or after church stop, or perhaps he dresses well in general. Either way, he was also enjoying some alone time. The lady seated behind him, at the end of the benches against the half wall dividing the seating area from the bagel cutting machine, was in her own little world. She reminded me of a movie character that someone like Olympia Dukakis or Shirley Maclaine would probably play. Well kept, dressed a step up from blue jeans, slightly eclectic, small reading-type glasses, colored hair, and a stack of well-worn books atop a spiral bound notebook. She was deep in thought most of the time, reading a page or so, then holding the book veritcally on the table top, eyes closed, breathing steady, concentrating on the words she's just taken in with her eyes, absorbing them with her mind. Seems that each time I glanced up, she was doing so with another book from the stack. The spines of these small paper back books were quite worn, so I wasn't able to see what kinds of books she was concentrating on, or what she might have been writing about in her notebook. Toward the end of my stay, she was on her mobile phone with her hand over her mouth as she spoke, leading me to believe that she was taking in some pretty important words, or at least only wanted to share them with the person on the other end of the call.

Amazing to me this morning was the number of customers who were so picky about their breakfast foods. More than one of them led the women behind the counter to specific pastries, bagles, or muffins, because apparently all the others were just not right. A couple had very specific requirements about the toasting of their bagels, and one woman seemed to be buying for an entire church congregation, keeping the girl behind the counter very busy for quite some time, grabbing 8 of these bagels, 4 of these, 7 of those. Then a very peculiar couple of customers arrived, and I couldn't pull my eyes away. A woman and (I believe) a man, most likely siblings based on their utter resemblance to each other. The woman had blonde hair with waves that seemed difficult to style, and I think her glasses only stayed on her face because of her keen ability to raise her upper lip, tilt her head upward, wrinkle her nose and furrow her brow as she tried to read the menu. Her companion, whom I believe was a man, brought the name "Pat" to my mind immediately. I'll leave it at that. I don't know why these two characters drew my attention like they did, but, they did.

Despite the people watching, I was able to absorb quite a bit of this book, suddenly finding that I've now read over 100 pages of it. That's more than I've read any book in as long as I can remember. It's a great feeling, and what I've learned brings me more positivity than I've felt in a long time.

Before I left, a group of three women, probably late 40's, early 50's, sat at the table behind me. Before they'd all ordered and taken their seats, they greeted a young man, about my age, who apparently has a pulled back and just joined a gym, and grew up in DuPage county. It's funny the things you learn about people you're not even talking to in such a short time!

At first, it seemed like just Sunday morning coffee for the ladies as they updated each other on the events of the past week. One got to sleep in and "go marketing" on Thursday (apparently this is her speak for "grocery shopping"). One spent a day driving around a lot getting to various appointments and obligations. The other is considering a part time opportunity to work somewhere like a library or something. Before I knew it, they were talking about how to get a job collecting for the US Census. They all made it obvious that they don't want to go door to door, but, they definitely want roles in data collection. One woman even pointed out that by working on the Census, you'd get this attractive tote bag, and it's a good credential to have in your arsenal of "I've done this" for a resume. I decided to wrap up my reading when the women, and the young man, began to voice their displeasure with citizens who don't wish to disclose information about their lives to the Government. Realizing that this is a hot button topic and one which I would tend to disagree with these folks about, and since my two hours were nearing an end, I chose a good spot to end my reading in my book. I refilled my coffee as the young man with the pulled back was filling his first cup. After exchanging a quick agreement that coffee is a morning necessity, I returned to my table, finished my chocolate pastry, gathered my jacket and book and bid my neighbors a good day.

Morning coffee in hand, I returned home to the sounds of excited giggles from my children as they watched Daddy play a race car video game. More relaxed than I've been in a while, I'm enjoying my Sunday with my family, and have agreed to take the day one step at a time. Writing has helped me to sort my thoughts, and to escape the hurtful dialogue that my mind holds every moment of the day.

I now look forward to Sunday mornings with my coffee and a good book, and to returning to my husband and children. I'm excited to know that this is only the first step in my long journey toward happiness and freedom. Who would have thunk that a cup of coffee could serve me such a wonderful new beginning. I certainly didn't.

Until next time...

A Valentine treat

Ethel was really into everything Christmas this past holiday season.  Really into it.  She chose outfits with red and green in them every day (laundry permitting), sang Christmas songs, and everything she drew revolved around Christmas.  As soon as the holiday was over, she asked what holiday would come next, and I told her Valentine's Day.  Thus the beginning of her obsession with red, pink, hearts, and Valentimes.

Valentine's Day is really more of a Hallmark holiday any more, but, the kids always get a kick out of another themed party at school when they can exchange candies and cards.  Generally, the exchange involves folded cards that Mom and Dad find at the store, donning their child's favorite character at that time.  Last year we got a lot of Strawberry Shortcake and Transformers, and some Star Wars cards.  This year, Ethel is on a kick of coloring hearts, and has come up with her own "Valentimes".

Ethel designed "love fans".  Once she mastered the art of drawing hearts, and once she was allowed to use her safety scissors, the love fans began to take shape (forgive the pun).  She carefully selects colors for each heart, and each fan has four hearts.  She chooses specific colors for each person she is giving the fan to, so everyone's fan is a little different.  She made make five fans for today for friends she'd see at a playdate and a birthday party. 

She colors, cuts, and tapes each fan all by herself.  They take some time, but she loves to make them, and loves even more to give them.  She even demonstrates how to properly use each fan to cool yourself, waving it side to side.  She judges how much air each fan gives, and notes her level of approval. 


I think we've found our Valentime card solution for this year!  Quick, easy, and free.  How could we go wrong?

Splatster!

Ethel got this interactive game for Christmas from her Nani, my mom.  She adores it, and while I was skeptical at first, I am no longer.

You know the old duck hunt games from the arcades and traveling fairs?  The kind where they give each kid a fake rifle, and they each take aim at the ducks as they roll by?  That game has been "updated" to a more PC version in Splatster!.  No longer are you trying to nail the ducks and 'go for the kill', now you're washing the ducks after they got into some paint!  And, there are monkeys swinging from vines who need to be fed, so you'd better toss them some bananas!

The spin art has you add circles of colour to a spinning piece of 'paper', and when you stop it, the paint splatters leaving a very cool display.  You can paint several pictures by "catching" drops of color, while avoiding blue triangles which threatedn to pop the drops.  You can even create your own sundae and save it!



The game operates wirelesly, much like a Wii.  The controller is a paintbrush, and when you keep your aim on the console, a 'camera', the control is rather easy.  I keep a dish towel on the floor for Ethel and Fred to stand on so they don't easily leave the range of the camera.  Every so often it doesn't read correctly and I have to mess with it, but overall the game is really easy for the kids to use and understand.  It's a little over Fred's head still, but he does enjoy watching the different games and activities while his big sister plays.  I will say, he's really good at the spin art!

The best part of Splatster! is that there is a USB port on the back of it where you can insert a flash drive, allowing you to save your images.  Ethel and Fred have been able to share their creations with their Nani in Florida and show her how much they've been enjoying the game she got Ethel.  It's so sweet, and Ethel gets so excited when we go to pick pictures to send Nani.

The kids enjoy being creative, and they really like playing the games.  On top of it all, they can share their creations.  On top of that, Mommy can get a little break for a few minutes, and I don't have the guilty feelings that I usually get when I turn on the TV.  Love it!

The journey of exploration

I feel sometimes as if I need to be rescued from myself.  I am a prisoner to the whilring thoughts and statements in my brain which I can't seem to turn off.  There is a constant chatter in my head (on top of my Tinnitus), and it has gotten to a point where I am unable to escape it.

I am a wife and mother, I have a full time job outside the home, I have friends and family.  Despite all these things, I still view myself as a failure.  I can't seem to not beat myself up, and I don't ever give myself credit.  I feel riddled with guilt and doubt, and it prevents me from making the simplest of decisions. 

This week I have also discovered the onset of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.  My fingers and hands are experiencing periods of numbness, and my forearms and elbows are beginning to ache and hurt.  I try to be aware of my hands and arms as I work at my desk at the office, and when I use the computer at home.  Still, I know that I have many corrections to make to my posture which would probably alleviate some of the stress on my arms while I work.

I know that stress can also manifest itself in different ways in different people.  I would categorize my stress level as pretty high right now, which could be contributing to my poor posture, tense muscles, and the onset of the numbness and pain.  I know there's no quick fix, but, I'm trying to be more aware of my body so that I can try to help myself prevent the symptoms.

In trying to be more aware of my physical presence, I'm also trying to be more aware of what is going on in my head.  My mind plays cruel games with me, and I often find myself at a stand still when it comes to making simple decisions, like whether or not to go to the store to get milk on the way home from work.  While not actually a complicated task, my mind complicates it.  What store should I go to?  Who has milk on sale?  Is it worth another $1 a gallon to go to store X so that I can get milk before collecting the kids from day care?  If I stop, what time will we get home?  What will I do first to get dinner ready?  What will I have the kids do while I make dinner?  Do I have enough money to get the milk?  If I get it now, when will I have to get milk again?

This is what my head does.  All the time.  Even thinking about going to bed is a challenge sometimes.  Sometimes I just decide not to do anything.  I can't even decide to get milk, what's my problem?  Now I go on with the reasons I am unable to make a decision.  I blame myself, put myself down, and generally feel badly about myself that I have so little capability as to go get milk. 

This is not healthy.  This is self-denial.  I have to learn to be more accepting of myself, and more nice to myself.  Why am I so mean to myself?  Why do I criticize myself like this?  Why is it so hard for me to accept my successes, and not focus on my failures?  Seems when I think about something, my first thought is why it won't work, why I can't do it/get it done, why it doesn't fit into my schedule, why I can't afford it, why I don't deserve it, why it's not worthy for me. 

It's making me crazy.  It's keeping me from being happy.  It's keeping me from enjoying every day's simple pleasures.  I need to find that happiness.  I need to be freed from the prison I've created in my mind.  I need to find that place in life that's just right for me.  I need to enable myself to make plans, provide for my family, and give myself credit for the things that I do, and not blame myself for the things I don't do.

As odd as it sounds, finding ways to deal with the Carpal Tunnel are almost crippling to my mind.  I can't buy a brace for my wrists, I don't have it badly enough to require surgery, and I lose my concentration on my posture.  There are three negative statements that I have just given myself.  First, I have issues spending money.  Second, I have discounted my symptoms as not serious, and basically decided that I don't deserve treatment.  Third, I have so many of these negatives in my head, I don't focus on me enough to correct physical symptoms like this pain and numbness, and the other side effects of my negativity. 

These are the things I'm trying to overcome.  I'm trying to overcome my inability to reason with myself, be positive with myself, and allow myself to focus on me, rather than denying myslef that basic necessity.  From there, I hope that I'm able to move forward and be a better wife, mother, and friend.  I will write about my journey here.