It works until it doesn't. Then - whoa, Nellie!

L finally lost her first top front tooth at school on the last day of school. She also informed me that she must leave it in a glass of water and that when she woke up the tooth would be gone but the water would be colored to prove the tooth fairy had been there. This new mythos courtesy of a sleep story that was in rotation for a while. However, she ended up opting to put it under pillow instead which also me at that I ended up scrabbling around under her pillow trying to find it at way too early in the morning. And I think she saw me? But it also doesn’t seem like she’s super…connected to the tooth fairy, if that makes sense? She cares not for money or drama so I don’t know if she’s so much mourning the loss of this narrative as just bummed that she lost the tooth. And this last part I think because it happened on the last day of school and it’s starting to sink in that THIS was going to be IT.

The constant smell of cookouts in the air and the distant sound of reggae mean summer to me now. The Close Park is still being closely monitored by Youths to the best of my knowledge so we made the trek across the bridge half a mile away to go to one of the other three that are close to us. There are people playing tennis, a scant two spray paint tags, and other seven-year-olds so - the main complaints have come from children's parents by proxy and/or age-appropriate weapons and social concerns. What does that mean? A little girl she just met telling L, "My dad doesn't like it when you pull on my body." ...which is something L's older friend Li brought up at one point too. Specifically Li's dad. Specifically L pulling on Li. And another was a little boy playing with them aiming an orange nerf pistol at L while she was winding up to hit a birdie over a net. She asked him to stop, and while I'm not totally clear on if he did or not (and he probably wasn't clear on that either) she then brandished her racket at him, winding up with it held behind her back as if she was about to hit him. She didn't, but I get it. It was threatening. He said, "I'm going to tell your mom!" and started marching across the field to me. I started marching across the field to him and, calmly but with an edge, affirmed his concerns, let him know that it wasn't okay for her to do that and it's important for him to not aim guns at people. I was kind of on preschool teacher autopilot so hopefully it hit, but who knows? Then I did basically the same thing with her and she cried and the person she was playing badminton with sort of tried to defend it with, "Well, he was being mean to us the whole time." Uh...that's cap, probably? But even if so I tried to pivot it to to, "Well, ask an adult for help then." I don't know, bruh. Nobody's completely right, nobody's completely wrong, and if we pull gender into it I guess I feel kind of like extrapolating that AMABs maybe feel more comfortable asserting dominance in increasingly sophisticated ways ("Ima tell your mother!") while AFABs maybe feel more comfortable trying to solve the problem for themselves. But this is barely a case study. So maybe I'll stop going off about it.

I don't know really what I think about the pulling on other peoples' bodies thing yet. I gather that she's sensory seeking and low registration with sensory avoidance for specific sensations (sound, mostly), and pathological demand avoidance (PDA). Well, maybe just pathological with me, but still. I'd bet dollars to donuts that she masks like a motherfucker all day at school and then has to kind of let it all out at home which means nothing gets done. And wow! Much relatability! For me anyway. That's no way to live, however. There's the piece where I was like that as a kid too (I think?) but I had a sibling to work it out with who was also all those things x10 and in comparison I probably didn't seem all that sensory seeking, etc. Plus I had this temperament my genes plus being born in the 80s saddled me with. So. Yes. Note to self: hockey, rugby, social stories, heavy work, scaffold at home, and rehearse before going to playgrounds. I'll uh...talk about the parts of me that are super-duper worried about what other people think of her/me another time because that certainly is a factor and I am very ashamed of that part of myself but just ignoring doesn't do anybody any good. Least of all L. *ahem*

Hey! I'm on fieldwork, remember? The kid I was to plan an intervention for yesterday morning cancelled so now my main concern for this rotation has become GETTING ENOUGH HOURS. Ya girl will need to do a detailed research project or something for real!

Last week I got to shadow for an evaluation at a preschool and I had some Feelings about that. Some of the feelings were concern that we were not taking into account the classroom environment or schedule or, indeed, talking to teachers about The Things. But I can hope that the OT I was shadowing did that at a later time…right? I have some strong opinions about daycare settings and OT. Come at me if you dare!

Last week I also successfully wore makeup for five days in a row. I’ve always wanted to be the type of person who wears makeup for work and maybe THIS TIME I’ll get it together? I’ve been trying to pack it gym bags that I prepare by day and line up on hooks and everything!

But actually? Probably not, fam. 

I don't want to hear it, see it, or say it. Smelling is fine. So is tasting!

The day before yesterday was awash with sunshine for L's birthday party and it was just - fine! For the first time in the past 4-5 years her birthday party was absolutely just nice. S picked up the cake and a pinata because he was worried that the Squishmallow one I was working on wouldn't be done in time (...eh; it was and it wasn't. Pinatas exist to be smashed, I say. It's okay if they look a little...wack. Which this one did. But was giving Squishmallow! And that's all I ask for.) which I handled with no meltdowns and he explained himself just fine and all of that was - fine! Highly recommend renting out a municipal park for parties. 

The most awkward things that happened were a lady who sidled up the tables and started to unpack her Carr's bags and a couple of party-unaffiliated kids who wanted cupcakes. I told the lady that we'd probably be out by 1:00 but had the pavilion rented until 3:00. She reacted better than I would have expected if I'd stopped to think about it (which I didn't because Party Mode was activated) and set up on the...ground nearby? And started grilling on a tiny Coleman grill? And then just never shifted back over the the pavilion when we cleaned up? I feel kind of like a jerk (maybe I am!) but also maybe she was just waiting to see who would call her on moving in. Me, I guess. 

The kids - dude. We had 70 cupcakes or something so they were totally welcome to that but I have a thing where if you want a cupcake come ask me, but no you can't scamper off with two cupcakes because a) you are one hundred percent going to drop that shit somewhere in the park and just leave it on the ground and come back asking for more cupcakes (which, again, we have more than enough cupcakes but it's the future possible littering for me) and b) you gotta have your sibling who wants a cupcake come up and ask me because I need to know that they're verbal enough to do it so I don't have to mess with talking to your grownups about whether it's okay or not for them to have a cupcake and that's not even getting into the whole allergies piece. Like, I just...really, really want that to be your conversation with your grownups and not my conversation with your grownups, does that make sense? It's okay if it doesn't, just - look. It supports your development of autonomy and following multi-step directions, a'ight? Also, listen: just send your brother over. If he wants a cupcake he can come and get it, okay? End of.

All of that to say: yesterday was rainy and a little bit chilly so I am drank tea and had a mini Lilo and Stitch marathon with L while waiting for S to get back from a lunch with a former boss. We went on an almost-hike later in the afternoon, and Had Words about the bike ride L went on with my dad the day of her party. Suffice it to say that he's not a very...uh...active listener and is especially likely to tune me out and in this case he tuned me out when I said "It's not a good idea to go to the park right now." and offered two-to-three reasons why. S is quite upset with my dad now because of all the reasons I've outlined in previous entries while I am more in Not Happy But Not Surprised Territory because I've known my parents for a minute now, and, yup, that tracks. They pulled the booster seat from their car a year or two ago and I don't think that's a great idea. Do I push back, though? No, I don't. Maybe I should. Maybe that's the takeaway. Anyway S is cooling down currently and will probably Talk to My Dad about it at some point soon. S and I talked last night about how I think it's probably best to just reiterate his experiences with the youths (standing on corners, snappin' their fingers - haha no they're not) and making it much clearer than I (probably) did, and also words coming out of a man's mouth likely mean more to other men of A Certain Age than uh...mine. So.

I went to the gym to get my cardio for the week in. Research as early as the 90s shows that lifting weights supports increased bone density and that physical exercise might improve cognition overall as per biomarkers in cerebrospinal fluid (but not short-term memory; womp-womp). NEVERTHELESS. Off I went and finished up Etoile and Four Seasons. 

I've been plugging away at cleaning and organizing (thanks, bupropion!) whilst listening to podcasts. So far (week 1/12) this rotation has been such that I haven't needed to do a whole lot of work at home yet which is nice and has meant I get to chase the Spring Cleaning Dragon. Ergo: podcasts, not lectures or research articles on read-aloud. 

Media list incoming:

• Fancy as F*ck! A Sweet Cheeks podcast* (the one about listener questions)
• Criminal (the one about 50s gameshows which I'm a wh*re for 50s gameshows) 
• That's Spooky (I always seem to land on the weekly hangout ones)
• Shootin' the Shit (which is new to me but hasn't aired a new episode since February which oh mah gawd, did these Cape Breton drag queens actually have a falling out? But I'm loving it so far because I love me a drag queen and, I'm learning, I love a Southeast Canadian accent)

Oh! Guess what? For pride month they're screening Chasing Amy and To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar on the same night at the Bear Tooth. That might...uh...that might be a need to get a babysitter for moment. Or, you know, just go with a fran'. Or two? One for each movie?

Okay, that's it for now. Have a fair-to-excellent Memorial Day. And don't let anyone force you to memorialize things you don't want to! You're an adult, dammit (unless you're not, I guess), and you make the calls!

*Does it still count as para-social if I also know the people in real life? Sincere question. I'm leaning towards yes.

I see what you're doing there (...coding. It's coding.)

There are two white Scottish terriers outside the doors of this Starbucks. They're quiet and alert and staring at all the cars going by. I don't know if their owner is somewhere outside or what. Gotta love the twin energy, though! 

I've been sifting through past entries recently. I do this periodically, because I can't remember shit. Sometimes is not always, and now is not same as it ever was, but by golly it sure does feel like it. Incessantly. Hm. Okay. 

...and now I'm to the point in my parking lot document where I stuck Ne. Do I even want to do this? No? There won't be a better time later? Okay. So, something happened in college that just about wrecked me. A lot of things did, but I've been carrying this particular thing with me as a Big Bad Thing I did when I was...eighteen maybe? Or maybe 19. I was going to outline exactly what it was, but upon reflection maybe not. Suffice it to say, it was dumb, it was bad, it did hurt people, and it was like a plot point from teen melodramas of the day. And I felt horrible and evil. I also don't think I took full responsibility for it at the time, but I did blame myself and I did feel...horrible and evil. And it really wasn't until earlier this year (20-ish years later) that it at all occurred to me that maybe it wasn't 100% my fault. While it wasn't great to let Ne into my bedroom in the first place due to some nonsense shenanigans that he was always on about, it truly didn't occur to me that this would ensue in What Happened. So, late-teens Clara: it wasn't completely your fault. Yes, it was 50% your fault. And you should have Done More Shit to Stop It. But guess what? At no point anywhere in your life up to that point did you have any experience in setting healthy boundaries in any context. And you're still not great at it now, age 38. I'm not saying cut yourself some slack exactly, but I am saying that it makes sense why it happened. And it could have been predatory. It was more likely just dumb kid shit, but still. And if I saw it happen to/with one of my younger coworkers I wouldn't really think all that much less of them. I would just be like, hm. There were reasons and there's work to do. It would have served you (Clara) better to have gotten to work on reparations and boundary work than emotionally cutting and avoiding accountability.

"What's new, boo?" you might say (if you called me boo - which you don't; no-one does), and I might give you stock response about "Oh, I started fieldwork and that's going fine." "How do you like the setting?" you might pry further. "It's fine! I could see doing it." I'd mumble. And then you'd be a little frustrated because that's no way to have a conversation! And you'd be so right. I'm still settling in, I guess? And I'm not hyper-excited, except when I'm actually in sessions. I kind of just...want to do the thing? Not talk about how it is to be doing the thing with members of my family. Which likely means that's exactly what I need to do. But I'm not. (Yet.) But I will. But I'm not.

I have been foisted off on a therapist who has Her Own Stuff Going On this Wednesday, and that's fine! It's the reason why I'm writing a blog entry at 11:46 instead of driving about having conversations about OT theory. (Oh, yeah. MoPs and FoRs I should ask about those, but I never do.) I like it! I like the kids. I'm just a little antsy. Maybe I'm doing my IIB feels early. We got told in no uncertain terms that we'd probably have menty b's during IIB and clinical practice b's during the IIA. 

BUT ANYWAY. Let's talk about tarot. Not writ large, just in my little world. A card I pulled a few times when considering whether to just file for divorce already, how it would impact my kid, etc. was the 8 of Cups. It looks like the below:

This classically means moving on, leaving a situation behind, and fits pretty well with the "Dump him, girl!" narrative. Which I did do (sort of), and moved through to the current situation in which S is currently back in the family this, in large part, because he has gotten sober. One tableau I pulled cards for this question was The Moon, another card which escapes my memory and I'm not going to look it up right now because I have one more thing to do before the next two appointments, and the 8 of Cups. Someone on the reddit tarot channel commented that it looked like myself and my husband on either side with our child caught between us. Well, the reason I bring it up is because I pulled the 8 of cups on Saturday and on that day I went to an AA meeting with S. We were leaving the meeting and I realized that perhaps the meaning of this card in my situation is leaving a very literal representation of...cups of alcohol. Leaving alcohol behind. 

Speaking of woo, it was only recently that I discovered that even though my sun sign is in Virgo, my moon is in Gemini, and my Venus is in Libra (my mars is in Capricorn, but nobody seems to care about that in the astrology world). This is all hokum, probably, but one alleged thing about people with their moon in Gemini is that they can see lots of different sides of lots of different issues and other people don't tend to like this very much. Which: can confirm is true for me, personally.

How are the parks in your city? The ones in Anchorage are mostly fine except for the one nearest my house. I think I've written about this before, but it has become overrun with middle schoolers/young teens. On the one hand this is fine and on the other hand they have begun swearing extremely loudly at each other like they're auditioning for a walk-on role in a Kevin Smith film, and monopolizing the playground equipment and when asked to stop becoming increasingly threatening. S posted on the Nextdoor app calling for solidarity and when a local mom with three children tried to follow through by asking them to stop three of them threatened her and started following her down the path leading from the park to the neighborhood. She felt unsafe enough that she called the police. Who came...but refused to involve their parents. She took a picture of them which she sent to S when he asked. On that same day we'd tried to go to the park and made it a grand total of 5 minutes before two of the three hunkered down on the swings by L and started discussing dildos in a loud (uninformed) way. We just left. My instinct is to be like, "Time and place - this isn't it. And you sound ridiculous! Castle is halfway across town. And you'd definitely need a lubricant. Amateurs." ...and is that helpful? Probably - no. And then S tried to go talk to them on his own (because sometimes youths react better if they hear it from a man; misogyny! Alive and well!) and that went actually much worse and now we're at a total loss. By which I mean I'm probably going to go the witchcraft route. My only other thought is to call the police every time and hope that it's so often that they get sick of it and follow through. However, my experience at a high-incidence Siren is such that I think they'll probably just stop sending officers and say things like, "You've reached your yearly limit on police calls." Which...that can't be a real thing, can it? The operators are just making shit up, right? Lordt.

Today is the last day of school in the Anchorage School District. And wow will I ever not miss the power struggles that go with dropping L off in the morning at Current Optional School! Phew. I'm excited for exciting, new power struggles!

Unrelated: I think I'm getting the nausea side-effect from Wellbutrin (cry-laughing emoji). Oh well. Gotta be something, right? 

What good are you? Sincere, non-sarcastic question.

Why has there been no new data collected on racial and socioeconomic disparities in the occurrence of cerebral palsy since 2011? Get on that, someone. At first I thought it was just because: The Census, but unless we just assume things are wack because of COVID (not a bad assumption), that implies there would be data for 2021. Unless that doesn't release until a certain number of years? Like public records? The only reason I know that is because my mom is super-into genealogy and has been since my childhood. I swear!

...and a belated: thank goodness, Canada. Thank. Goodness. There's still potential for the new PM to be a super-villain but he seems less super-villainous (villainy?) than the alternative. Heh. Sort of related is that fewer and fewer people seem to be saying the Pledge to Allegiance at the start of school lately. Hmmmmm. Sometimes concerns are founded, aren't they?

My favorite (internal) swear has been and continues to be "Christ alive!" I like that it's an injunction, an exclamation, and sort of blasphemous all at once. "Zounds!" would be another good one, if I ever remembered to use it. Etymology, although I kind of think you already know. Also, "Strewth!" which is giving not only Shakespeare, but also Oz. I watched part of the short documentary on the time during COVID in which quarantined Shakespearean actors coordinated a full-length production of Hamlet in Grand Theft Auto. It was amazing how...calming Shakespeare is? So does creep this petty pace from day to day, fuck yeah. Plus there's this slight connection between Hamlet specifically and Star Trek: TOS which I like to think about sometimes, which makes it double-soothing. The only leadership training i ever want to take again is one where you have to simulate being an officer on the starship Enterprise, because that's where the rubber really meets the road, homie.

I do often feel kind of...burnt out on Anchorage? But I do truly love coming home. And there are little glimmers that remind me of why I fell in love with Alaska in the first place. And it's not just the mountain vistas, heart-stopping beauty, and lack of 90+ degree Fahrenheit weather. I was minding my own business in the locker room when someone complimented my Totoro shirt. This turned into a brief conversation about the virtues of different Studio Ghibli films and how our parents didn't understand why we'd ever let our children watching Something Like That. Also that The Boy and the Heron soundtrack is lit. That's My Alaska! ...it's the little things.

More Alaska is a Small Town:

• A parent at Optional School spotting the name on L's jacket and identifying it as belonging to the person we got it from as a hand-me-down. Then contacting the person, realizing it belonged to L, and both of us getting excited that we know the same awesome person.
• Identifying a potential site for my capstone next Spring and only knowing about it because I'm Facebook friends with someone who underwent a radical life change, but who I know from teaching them adult dance classes, and going to a murder mystery party 🤷
• Running into someone else in the locker room (twice!) who used to be one of my (adult, early childhood program) students when I worked at the preschool. She's an interesting person, and remembered me but not my name. She said she had some pictures from that time and attempted to email them but didn't attach them to the email, which is kind of in-line with how it was having her as a student. And is kind of in line with what it's like having me as a student! It just be like that sometimes.

I took my parents to see Dial M for Murder (the stage play) at Cyrano's for Mother's Day. I kind of thought it would just be me and my mom but my dad invited himself along, so it was the three of us. The program said it was "updated for modern audiences" and whenever I see that I automatically assume that means lesbians. Guess what? It did! Which is great and it was cast well and I loved it, and it was a little awkward seeing it with my parents. But probably also good for them. But yes. The production was great. The acting was very good, accents were curated with an accent coach and it showed, and the set and wardrobe was amazing. Highly recommend if you're suddenly into live theater - which, apparently, I am.

Volunteering at the Parkinson's boxing class has been interesting if not probably exactly the right fit. The classes themselves are fun (I've never tried boxing before and I'm crap at it!), the people are nice, and it's interesting to see the application of exercise and cognition together. This involves things like conversation-starters and Space-Invader mechanism games on recumbent bikes (did you know how fucking hard those games are? Very.). Some snippets so far:

• Do you play any video games at home? "No, those are for kids." Okay, what games do your kids play. "It's the grandkids. They play, like, War of the Worlds." World of Warcraft? "Yes. No." Do you play any board games? "No." What do you like to do at home. "I watch movies." Oh! What movies do you watch? "...." Which I'm afraid I assume to mean that he means Fox News, not movies. Please prove me wrong, guy. Plus, life's a game. And a show. And, occasionally, a gameshow. Get into it!
•  One conversation starter was "What's the best food in the world?" which most of the other participants interpreted as types of cuisine and I interpreted as A Food. So I said, "Malasadas." because I have those on the brain lately. One of the ladies in the group got excited and asked me, "Are you Portuguese? I am!" Unfortunately, no. But I also didn't realize that malasadas are historically Portuguese. Learning!
• There was also the little old lady who angrily stomped around the workout session with her cane, and when I spoke with her said she was 82 and hated working out. She gestured at her husband and said, "He's 94. He drives me around all day and makes me do things! I hate it!" But she did seem a little perkier after her workout, and I would be a little salty too if I were 82 with several painful surgeries under my belt. Scar tissue ain't no joke, yo.

I've been thinking about this song lately. I listened to this entire album a lot in 2012-2013. All the songs are kind of downers but...in a legitimate way. Relatable to me, anyway. My favorite line is:
    "There's big ceremonies, things that go fast

      You're cheer is such a treasure

      Your tears are like the weather

      They're never meant to last."

I love that L, at age 6 nearly 7 still loves worms. I was digging in the garden yesterday and found a bunch which she scooped up and ran to re-home in her Barbie dream house. Which is outside because she painted it black last year and I am That Mom in the sense that, what is it harming? It's not going to be mint condition forever that's not my vibe. Don't worry, I had her put the worms back in dirt before she checked out for the evening. They're fine!

Okay. That clears out my parking lot document for now. I feel like I must do a few more things before schlepping back to downtown to volunteer at Field Day, so - abrupt goodbye!

Can I just like...live at the library?

This might be a long one. I have a lot to do in a paper-worky way and I want to alternate all the Things with journaling in case I don't have time starting next week. Which...I probably won't. This time off has been nice.

Friends have kind of been on my mind lately. How to make them, keep them. Why am I not good at that, etc. And I got referred for neuropsych testing (finally! After all these years!) so maybe that will shed some more light on What My Various Deals Are. But...yeah. Every time I think about reaching out to the friends I have in the area I'm met with this sense of myself being not-enough, or there not being enough time, or as, The Linda Lindas say in one of their songs, "Making plans feels like a living hell". But why, tho'? There's a part of my brain that says, "Water the grass that you want to grow", which is generally good advice.

However, if I look at the timeline, my now-friendships look like sending Instagram posts to each other, texting but then not texting back or making plans because I think I'm just being used to get to an estranged daughter rather then being an actual...friend. Getting together for dinners every so often (which is nice!) ...but not feeling like I can reciprocate because of the truly staggering amounts of alone time I need to feel okay-ish, the social pull of my daughter's gregariousness, and the emotional labor of my parents and in-laws as well as the sticky nature of my relationship in which have couple friends has been a little complex. And now it's more complex still with the Ways he (S) feels about Men. Which...does that make sense? There's a lot of shame. A lot of complexity. A lot of fatigue. A lot of splinters of identity, so I don't know where to start or end, what to disclose, what to relate to. And humans have to have roles to play, I think. Groups have very specific dynamics. And my cursed need for harmony wants to douse it in gasoline and light in on fire at the slightest hint of conflict or disingenuousness. 

If I pull it back further I had to make myself little rotating schedules of time to spend with friends. I had a system and that's how I hung out with people. Very seldom have I had a "drop by anytime" type relationship with anyone. Too much shame, I guess? Being unsure of social convention? This was compounded by some things that happened with K soon after I moved up here. And then there's the notion of parallel play being the way in which I'm most comfortable making friends and hanging out with people (for the most part). We need to be working, dancing, or hiking - just doing something to make it work.

Back further (to Arizona), I think it felt a little better being unstructured, but there was still an element of doing with not being with. Pulling it back even further to college, I don't know how many people I was actually friends with in college. M, for sure. J for sure. My roommate? B? Almost none of the people I danced with (save M). I just...couldn't feel connected, I guess. I don't know that I really made friends at work, either. But I'm Facebook friends with a lot of people? I was allowed to be places and with people, but I was always hard to get to know. I recall even having a conversation with my first boyfriend about how I don't think there's very much to know. Like...what do you mean you want to get to know me? I can't sum it up for you neatly. Eventually I got a narrative going because it became clear that this question of "WHO ARE YOU"? was a recurring expectation. But, how true was it? It wasn't untrue, but it wasn't accurate, if that makes sense. We cannot really know each other. We are each unknowable. That is the nature of existence and perception. And that's pretty obvious. And kind of spectrum-y/BPD, no?

What was I...oh - right. I remember attachment to friends being easier in childhood. I also remember pretty clearly (I think? Caveat here that memory is trash, forgetting is part of memory. This is all conjecture, in a way, as all memories are.) times when I would attach to people who didn't like each other and that being profoundly painful to me. I would try to push them together and they wouldn't like it and I would feel kind of affronted that they didn't like each other. How very dare you not see the value in each other! I also remember trying to mediate between two girls I'd just met at a church I went to once and never went to again because I just couldn't handle disharmony and had this perception that it was my job to solve the problem. Eventually I came to a place where I felt physically hurt, kind of, when people didn't like me. And honestly, what do you say to a kid when that happens? Sure, maybe they're jealous. Sure, maybe they're missing out. But honestly - when it's happening to you - maybe you feel like, oh. They see me for I really am. And they hate it. And I'm just...sad about that. And I kind of didn't then believe in the impossibility of getting along with everyone. Even though it's just that - an impossibility. 

Oh and those two girls? Were kind of making fun of me for trying to help them. Suck a d*ck, Paris, TX. 

All that to say this is a little on the nose, but I'm here for it.

Working Title

Holiday Things
Mother's day is over the verdict being that it was...mid! Not bad, not good, just mid. It was nice going to the Unitarian Church on Mother's Day. There was a sermon by a woman who was frank about her relationship with her children (estranged oldest; two younger children she's still on good terms with) and passed the mic around the congregation to share about their relationships with their mothers. But I especially loved it because she talked about motherhood as potentially being an iteration of the maiden/mother/crone cycle of Paganism. I cry at the drop of a hat these days, so speaking on-mic wasn't really for me but S shared a bit. AA has been a good journey for him so far.

Body Things
I'm a little irritated and worried about my left humeral head. I did something (probably during the somatic dance class I've been to twice in the past two weeks - or during one of the yoga classes I've been to in the past two weeks) and now it's sitting a little bit at an anterior tilt. And I have some nerve sensation. Not pain but like...a feeling of "uh-oh; watch it!" plus more limited sensation in my left hand and arm and they're maybe cooler to the touch than they used to be? Unless they weren't? See, this is why I need to distract the Border Collie Within with Activities. I suspect my internal rotators are tight and my left rotator cuff guys need some strengthening. Plus maybe some different k-taping. I did a bit of k-taping last night but I feel like it was the wrong move and maybe I should add some scapular taping to keep those guys in line. Specifically, this (the one on the left):

Norepinephrine/dopamine-wise I have a followup with my Psych NP today and I have some stage fright about that. Will I remember about all the things she asks me? Girl, don't have stage fright. Just do the best you can (and work out twice a day; maybe not that last one). 

Parenting Things

I feel like such a shit parent what with the drama of "helping my kid with school". Like...I do get why it's hard. And how it's hard. And just...fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm not doing the best job. I don't want my kid to be sad because I'm frustrated. I feel like I'm failing. I didn't think I would be like this. I really didn't. I didn't account for the complex trauma of relationship with my partner, my parents, my in-laws, and inner child. And I want to be able to help her. And on some level I just...look. I was hyperverbal and on the verge of hyperlexic. So in that sense I do not know why the fuck anyone wouldn't want to learn how to read. Which isn't great. It's like how they make people who have really good grades in something tutors to people who have trouble understanding a concept and the tutors have a hard time bridging the gap with the people they're tutoring because they don't know how to get to where they are from where the other person is. For a variety of reasons, but you see what I'm saying, right?

But anyway (and because I Got a Time Limit, Guv'nor), L got into a K-12 Optional school that she'd been on the waitlist for since kindergarten. Remember how I was agonizing between Optional School and Chinese Immersion for kindergarten? Well, I spent last weekend agonizing between K-12 Optional School and Current Optional School and I think we're going to do the K-12. There will be downsides for sure, but...nothing that seems all that different from what we're doing now? And honestly the parental involvement in teaching my child in the morning has not been great for our relationship. K-12 has an actual SpED classroom (+) which implies to me that perhaps there will be accommodations made instead of honking on at length about how learning is personalized when, really, it isn't and, really, no modifications are made to the classroom to manage behaviors at all that I can see. (I mean like lighting, followthrough on protocols, any sensory modification whatsoever, etc.) ...or, you know, maybe not. And I'm honestly going to miss Current Optional School. It was warm and as a parent I was starting to visualize what it would be like when she got to do a play with her 5/6 grade class or do the cardboard regatta or go through the bubble arch, etc. And I will miss the Stardew Valley-esque festivals. 

And while I'll admit I never felt all that welcome there, I can also admit that this is more of a testament to my own personal nonsense than anything else. 

I hope your personal nonsense is going well...and your personal sense too! 

I have faith too, but we need to be realistic here

I'm going to go help out at a boxing class for individuals with Parkinson's disease today and catching up on lectures; otherwise I don't feel very...real, I guess? Two emails, unanswered. One text, unanswered. An order for a drink in a for-here cup was filled in a to-go cup. And all of that feels...normal. Okay. Regular.

Because I'm at a near-standstill with things like trainings and assignments, I think it's time to talk about some things I've been mulling over:

1) I am angry about being perceived as having had an emotional affair. ...but according to numerous Youtube videos I did! And, there are confounding factors. What are these confounding factors, you might ask (you might not. But you might!)? 

    a. The persistent limerence that goes along with ADHD, Autism, and BPD. Almost no matter which
    one or combination of these conditions that I have, this is going to be a factor. 
    b. Look, my husband was not in a good place - with me. Towards me. Around me. As a person. And it's     all very well to say, "You should be going to only your spouse with your hopes and dreams and feelings     and and and...". But what if they're not a safe space, guys? What then?
    c. [EDIT: added 5/15/25] Also, the person in question was a friend beforehand. A friend from before? A      close friend, and I was friends with them during numerous relationships and at no point was it a                  problem in any of those. I do get that it's a problem for my husband for various reasons that are                personal to him, and those are reasons that we can't seem to move beyond because there is simply a            point at which I am burnt out on it and tired of having conversations (arguing) about it, because para         me I did not do anything wrong except for not telling him about taking up the friendship again. He            has narratives about most if not all of the women in his life in which they cheat on him, try to control         him, are dismissive, are abusive and while I'm sure the formative events were accurate I think they            shaped the rest of his perceptions in a way that it's difficult for any women in his life to be Enough            and it's hyper-difficult for his wives to Be Their Own People without this being threatening in some            way. So it's easier to be all like, "You are an adulterer." rather than "This is complex situation and                people of diverse genders can be friends with one another, but I am having a big reaction to this                particular situation I need you to put it down for now while I process." So, in conclusion, about this            situation I am two things simultaneously: burnt out and sympathetic. But not at the expense of my            own, deeply-held beliefs. Which are that I am "allowed" to be friends with whoever I want; if it's                threatening to a relationship that is because of foundational insecurity not because one or both of the         partners are exercising free will in this way. Okay. Edit concluded.

And (this is not a confounding factor, just facts no printer) I bristle at the idea that one person is supposed to satisfy all the needs. I double bristle at the idea that friendships should not be intimate. Some aren't, this is true. But for all of them to be the same level? That's a trash perspective. Am I defensive about it? Yes, yes I am.  But sometimes I am defensive because I am tired of feeling attacked and tired of having the same, nonproductive, conversations over and over again.

2) Here's another one (the following stuff happened recently - after I wrote most of the above, as a matter of fact! Saturday, May 3, 2025 starting at 7:00 AM if we're being specific) - no matter what I do in this situation I am, in fact, fucked. S got up before I did on Saturday and said he would take L out to breakfast to let me sleep some more. Which is very nice! But, of course, with noise and activity going on in and around the room I started to wake up anyway. So I start looking at my phone off-and-on. Just looking at notifications (none of which were from real people, btw) and I thought of something I wanted to google. Does it hurt when you ovulate? The answer is: "It depends"! But yes, probably. S enters the room and I shut my phone off and put it down next to me because, to my mind, I'm supposed to be sleeping, not googling about my ovaries. He perceives this as being "sneaky" and demands to look at my phone. He goes through my texts and finds a text thread that's been going with one of L's school friend's parents. The problems with this thread were that there were "too many texts" even though each and every one was strictly parent-parent-coordination stuff and that the parent was male. And I was texting him while S was out of town (???? because this is...when the coordination stuff just happened to fall?) and the texts stopped on April 27th (which is when S came back into town, I guess? This is something I'd have to look up, though, because I am a goldfish about time). I instantly got extremely angry because: what the fuck. The whole thing is giving exactly the controlling and gatekeeping I grew up with and experienced in college. In some ways, potentially, worse, because when I presented the situation to my parents even my dad was like, "He needs to give you more grace." Which, even considering the paternalistic nature of this comment, seems to mean he's not on S's side in this. We eventually got to a better place in all of this, but I still feel like this is something I one hundred percent anticipated. Which sucks. Sucks being right.

...and I'm still kind of angry. I get why this is an issue for him. And he explained it again (his mother, his past relationships, his last wife - although I don't exactly trust his perception of this particular piece given our history together?). And he hasn't worked on this shit up to the last two months in the entire ten years we've been together. I can understand why he has issues with jealousy, and this isn't a way in which I think I've failed him. In none of my previous relationships has having a friendship with men been an issue. Just this one! And as per our previous conversations I was not (in the situation with the classmate's parent) "trying to make male friends". I was just trying to coordinate fucking playdates and help out with Mini-Courses for L's school. Where we landed was just...the same conversation. Again.

I didn't really respond to his texts the way I wanted to. I used an AI tool to respond to his text because I can't...even. It doesn't seem as though I'm being heard. So why continue to try? Or, if I am, he's just sinking so much time and repetition into changing my mind. Specifically, he wants me to feel/believe I've done something wrong. And while I am open to the idea that I need to take responsibility for the things I've done wrong...these just aren't among those things. 

*sigh* Cooking class tonight. Hopefully that'll be fun!

In other news, malasadas are lit! You should try them sometime.

I think I was hoping to have something more substantial to say today, but I am tired of the inside of my head. More trainings, more neuro-occupation lecture catchup, more Audre Lorde.

"If I didn’t define myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive." - Audre Lorde

An amuse-bouche if anything

This week has been all about just...being, and doing the next right thing. Aren't they all, though? Probably.

I got TB test which, according to my PA should be a blood test because "nobody does the skin test anymore!" The hell they don't, but: okay. Four vials of blood later I whipped the little gauze guy (you know that guy!) out before the phlebotomist could put the band-aid on. 45 minutes later and wow should I have ever left that gauze in there because I. Am. A. Bleeder! And I also don't have either wet wipes or a first-aid kit in the car even though I could have sworn I did. Put it on the list! In the meantime? Bleed.

Amongst all the (actually!) productive and fun stuff I've been doing this week I'm also waiting on the green light to call or be called by a potential mentor at an inpatient psychiatric hospital. Otherwise it's all been playing Spiritfarer. "A cozy management game about dying"! Actually so cozy. Actually so management. Actually only one death so far. Also, it's set in the afterlife, so technically...are the spirits dying...more?

Today:

• It's ride your bike to school day - which we can't do for logistical reasons. So instead I packed the bike in the back of the ol' Jeep Patriot and called it good. Except! I forgot my wallet. 
• Back home to get the wallet while logging onto something called Fourwave to look at all the Capstone projects there be for this year's crop of graduating OTs. It was nice to see everybody's trajectories, but there were only 2-3 projects that were even tangentially-related to what I want to do. So. Um. I don't know what to make of that? Is this going to be another undergrad-type-deal in which the thing I'm doing is too out there and my mentors are going to be like, "I don't know, girl." We'll see. I think part of it for me is that I know damn well that once I get an OT job I will be Doing That and won't have time or mental energy for shenanigans. So let's shenanigans it up for capstone, baybee!
• While watching the above and hopping in every once in a while to say, "Good job!" and "Say more about NICU protocols for neonates born addicted to opioids..." I just did chores. Sidenote: that one hack where you play Stardew Valley music while doing chores is very on-point. Good job whoever came up with that. Try it today!
  
• Then: the Costco (they had chocolate-covered gummy bears today!) while listening to "Go Touch Grass"
• Tha' gym while watching Etoile (I'll watch Charlotte Gainsbourg in anything except Antichrist). And it's about 50% in French with a dry blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of humor and Real Ballet Excerpts. It's just - I can't gush enough, really. I ran into a real-live ballerina at the gym too (N; she used to be artistic director for the dance theatre in town) which I appreciated. Way to be thematically cohesive, life!
• Then the bloodletting as outline above and now I'm sitting in the parking lot waiting to collect L.

We're supposed to go the museum this afternoon which should be lovely as long as nobody has a meltdown. 50/50 chance it's me.

Maybe something more substantial tomorrow?

Gedenkrad

I guess I have Canadian YA literature on the brain, because the phrase "She was more of a knitter than a doer" has been living rent-free in my head lately. I remember reading it in one of the Anne books (the one where she went to college, I think?) and wondering what tf it meant. I had a vision of one of the middle-aged ladies they (Anne and her roommates) lived with curled up next to the fire knitting. Evidently it means you're all plans no action. Now imagine someone from The Maritimes saying "She was more of a knitter than a doer." Thank you for coming on this full-circle journey with me.

I tried searching these entries to see if I've already talked about this, and it doesn't look like it. Sorry if this is repetitious, but if so, here we go again: when I was moving out of The Fairy House O, understandably, needed to find someone to take my place. That rent don't pay itself, k'nawmean? So O did find someone - Bri. They were quiet and nice, worked some number of weeks on and some number of weeks off on the slope and came to tour the room while I was in the midst of packing up to move out. I moved out and to a beautiful place in Government Hill with my on-again-off-again roommate, A and didn't really think about Bri again, honestly. You may have noticed that I'm using Bri's given name instead of a first-initial. Why? Hang tight. A year and some change later things had gotten serious enough with S that we decided to move in together and found an apartment in a part of Anchorage called Valley of the Moon. It was close to the place that S's best friend was planning on living and a truly beautiful part of the city (well, except for the hypodermic needles). We moved in in August and so I decided to throw a small birthday party in the new apartment - on this particular year on my actual birthday. I was turning thirty and did it up pretty big (well, for me). I heard a couple of gunshots in the distance in the night, but that's truly nothing too out of the ordinary for Anchorage. It turned out the very same night in a park about four blocks away from my apartment, Bri was shot while biking through Valley of the Moon park. There was a somewhat high-profile serial killer in Anchorage that summer and they chose Bri. There was a ghost bike in the park for a while thereafter; I'm not sure if it's still there. Following Bri's death, O had something of a breakdown. He moved to Chicago - which is not in and of itself a red flag, but when I got together with him for dinner he was wan and sad and said, "It turned out that nobody really knew Bri." Maybe they had a hard time connecting with others. Maybe they were on the spectrum. Maybe there was a swimming pool of human experience between them and others. And then they were gone. I wonder how many lives are like that.

There's a blog I've read for over 20 years in which the blogger at one point wrote about some days when they wake up and saw every person in a "Russian mystic" fashion*. Every person was once a baby who was loved by their parents. Everyone. I suppose that's not technically true. But...life is so strange. How can we ever really know each other? We cannot Vulcan mind meld. And even if we could, I suppose that might be considered emotional abuse.

I think I've mentioned my appointments about meds in passing. My NP was surprisingly receptive to my descriptions of why escitalopram wasn't working for me. I was expecting to fight a little more for my right to...uh...try a different med. She referred me to a psychiatric NP and long story short despite some weird miscommunication about washout periods (I shouldn't have to ask about that, right? This is covered in PA programs, no?), and long story short I'm on day 7 of bupropion and that seems to be going much better. I feel like I need to distribute a questionnaire to my daughter because I'm not so sure my husband perceives me accurately all the time. Which, to be fair, who does? What a lot to ask! Etc. But I think L might be able to tell me the things that are the most raw and important.

Likert-scale-like does mommy:
Forget things
Remind you of the character Anxiety from Inside Out 2; how often?
"Yell" at you?
Listen to you?
Play with you?
Take care of you?

...and then, of course, I would have to get S's opinion on certain things b/c what 6-year-old gives a fuck about safety and self-care? Not that many. Anyway. Of the two meds I've tried so far this one seems to much better support function if not sleep. I am still sleeping an adequate amount, but the first couple of night I would have a thought while drifting off to sleep that triggered a dump of dopamine or norepinephrine and that woke me up a bit until I calmed myself down again. But this seems to be resolving and I tend to manage my sleep through magnesium and melatonin anyway.

Hey, guess what? No, not that! I got a haunted mirror! Well, I thought it might be haunted-ish when I dropped it in the parking lot document. Since then it's behaved itself, but after a playdate with her 10-year-old friend, L said she was scared of the mirror and thought it was saying, "Run!" to her. I said we'd keep an eye on that and cleaned it off with Windex. So far so good since then. But! It was returned to the thrift shop from whence I got it as per sequencing of dates on stickers. Hopefully if haunted, it's benign? I'll let you know. I have sage! So much sage. We'll be fine!

There are fun facts I just can't seem to forget. And here are two: Nastya of Youtube empire fame (or maybe not, I don't know how your family manages its screen time; if you don't know who she is I'm happy for you) was mistakenly diagnosed with cerebral palsy when she was <2 years old. W.C. Fields seemed to have a type of dermatillomania as related in one of his biographies. One of the people interview for the book said he would obsessively pick his face. I'm sure that's useful information to someone. Don't know who though.

The Ataris came to Anchorage and I didn't go because I went to that burlesque show with most of my cohort. I guess I could have gone afterwards, but I just...can't make myself do things past 10:00 PM. Or maybe I can now with the new meds? Uncertain. And the lead singer from Illuminati Hotties came to Anchorage too for Parlour In the Round. I did consider going to that, but things got complicated that day, S was out of town, L and I got separated on the way home from the park and she scared the hell out of me and I scared the hell out of her and we cried and decided to stay the hell home that night. But maybe next time! *sigh*

I finished Dordogne and as a result now really want to go to there. It's not super likely I'll be able to, but if you do, here's a handy-dandy guide. 

*She also has an entry I think about every once in awhile about days where "someone left the cap off the sexy" and everyone is weirdly sexy on days like that. I have days like that too, but it seems less societally allowed the longer I'm alive.