we are all inside refusing to go outside and just closeted away. i feel the need to push my children outside on general principle. because it is nice outside. and outside things are good for you. and summer is crashing to a halt soon.
and i feel guilty for not forcing more outside of house behaviors on a regular basis. the wolves who raised my children this summer (while i was at work or otherwise occupied) did not do a good job of getting them Out Of The House. but i don't want to leave either. i want to closet myself away and do things like beading and writing and binge-watching whatever socially unredeeming show i'm into at the minute. right now i am babying my hamstring after reinjuring it from excess walking. i doubt it needs to be RICEd so much, but i am kind of being a pouty whiny jerk about it. so there. crying and yelliness are the only things happening inside when video games are not engaged. i am exaggerating. there is also pouting and stomping. i saw psych NP and she post-datedly blessed my medication changes after giving me her cell contact again, which I put in my phone. and i will give to Spouse as well for when my phone inevitably chews up and spits out my contact information. so now i am just on 150mg of lamotrigine daily. she wondered if fall would bring a seasonal change downward or upward. i don't think so. must review past posts and hope i have been more faithful to blogging in the past. i also have a month-long supply of lurasidone if i feel a case of the Downs coming on. Instructions are to call her and start taking the meds if i find it necessary. she reiterated that i am NOT to cease taking my medication without her knowledge and without making some kind of plan. i feel no real desire to be off of everything at this time. it seems like saying, "Hey, I'm pretty good at driving now. Maybe I don't need to wear a seat belt anymore." and then of course the road gets all icy and you get sideswiped by some maniac who is blitzed out of his mind. now instead of engaging in yelliness with the teenager, i am icily typing. and realizing that i haven't changed clothes today and am in the same thing i wore yesterday and all night and i really really stink. on the basis of that alone, the boy should want to go outside. he has been taking brief forays into the out doors and i think if i just let enough time pass he will go do something and it can seem like his idea instead of me forcing the behavior. he just came and apologized for his behavior. i knew my stinky procrastination would pay off. go me with my lazy ineffective parenting. now i can go shower since i no longer need to use my foul smell as negative reinforcement. p.s. i have spent the last few weeks FRANTICALLY looking for my fitness tracker. had nightmares about the bad outcomes now that i lost it. that i would gain all my weight back and eat very poorly and lose my job. because i can't find a little plastic bracelet. right. and then finding the dang thing became a grand quest and proof of my worth as a human being. why to i go all metaphorical on the stupidest everyday crap? Spouse suggested that i purchase a replacement since i had methodically (and not even manically) decluttered each of the likely hiding spots for the missing item... done a grand job of searching for the thing (which I KNOW is in the house) ACK... and now i REALLY REALLY want to spend hours and hours and hours cleaning out the frelling garage because i can't find a bike helmet and when i went out to look for one i was confronted with the horror. ugh. MUST... NOT... ENGAGE... grateful crap: having a frelling garage so all the crap is out there instead of in my house equatorial actions: making a PLAN to clean out the garage (with help) eating sort of well (avoiding going to the store right now... overwhelmed) um... getting enough sleep saw psych NP 150mg lamotrigine i am using my injured hamstring as an excuse not to do things. but partly because if i do things, i am fairly certain i will re-injure, as i already have done. it's hard to cut myself some slack when i'm afraid that i'm just slacking. Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |