Went on an apple pilgrimage with the neighbor and our assorted children. Thought it was going to be a pick-your-own kind of a deal, but when it wasn't we bought some apples, went exploring a bit and had dinner at a restaurant near the river. Here was the highlight of the trip for me... I got into a post-dinner discussion-- a rather heated one-- with neighbor's son. He was passionately arguing that he and my son should be allowed to run around outside because they were done eating. I countered that I had a difficult time agreeing with that because in my family the rule is that you need to stay at the table until the bill is paid and everyone leaves together. Eventually he decided to stay inside, but what I loved about this exchange was that it was not an argument. We were not yelling. We were both listening and thinking about what the other person said. And it just felt great. How odd is it that my favorite part of the day was a heated debate with an eight-year-old. We got home later than we thought we would. Neighbor asked if it was causing me stress that we were later than usual. No, I thought, the kids will get to bed just fine. It wasn't until about 1 am that I realized she was not concerned about the kids being able to calm down and get to sleep. She was worried about the adults. I felt the need to stay up creating the perfect mismatched pair of earrings... one earring black, the other crystal clear. My Bipolar Earrings. I made and scrapped at least four different designs (many of which involved laborious bead-weaving) before I found one that I liked. And at the time it seemed terribly important that I get this done. Neighbor mentioned the next day that she also had trouble getting to sleep. Needed more time to engage in calming activities. Came home hopped up on fresh air and riverwalks. Grateful Crap: I love my earrings. Daily Convexions: took meds (150mg venlafaxine, 450mg bupropion, 50mg lamotrigine) also: omega-3, magnesium, multivitamin I am not doing a good job of regularly scheduling my allergy shots. I Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |