Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Tumors and Such
Hansie is having surgery today. He developed a lump the size of a tennis ball on his shoulder. It's not cancer in the sense that it would eventually invade his body, but we were told it would keep growing if we didn't remove it.
I didn't think this was worthy of putting on the prayer chain but it is still kind of a big deal for us, and for him I'm sure, so if you don't mind saying a prayer for a huge old dog. . .
Did you ever notice that when someone has surgery for a lump or cyst or tumor, the report from the doctor always says the lump was the size of something, rather than so many centimeters in diameter?
Sometimes I think that on the windowsill of the operating room they must have a long line of common objects, from a grain of sand, up through a pencil eraser, a pea, a grape, a ping-pong ball, various other balls for various other sports, all the way up to a basketball, interspersed with various fruits.
Then after the tumor comes out they hold it up and make the official comparison that will go on the charts, out to the waiting family, and on to the church prayer chain.
Quote of the Day:
"Offensive, strongly disagree or disapprove"
--the reason someone chose for unsubscribing from the Shoe. I am trying not to obsess about this.
I didn't think this was worthy of putting on the prayer chain but it is still kind of a big deal for us, and for him I'm sure, so if you don't mind saying a prayer for a huge old dog. . .
Did you ever notice that when someone has surgery for a lump or cyst or tumor, the report from the doctor always says the lump was the size of something, rather than so many centimeters in diameter?
Sometimes I think that on the windowsill of the operating room they must have a long line of common objects, from a grain of sand, up through a pencil eraser, a pea, a grape, a ping-pong ball, various other balls for various other sports, all the way up to a basketball, interspersed with various fruits.
Then after the tumor comes out they hold it up and make the official comparison that will go on the charts, out to the waiting family, and on to the church prayer chain.
Quote of the Day:
"Offensive, strongly disagree or disapprove"
--the reason someone chose for unsubscribing from the Shoe. I am trying not to obsess about this.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Romance
I just love romance.
If I had been born into a Fiddler on the Roof sort of life, I think I would have been Yenta the Matchmaker.
I have matched lots of couples in my head that actually ended up getting together later.
I am so glad it has all worked out for Paul's nephew Randy and Shelley from Iowa. Their courtship will be a story for the grandchildren on waiting for God to work it all out. And here they are.
Then there's the lady who lives down the road at the blueberry patch and who was married to Paul's dad's cousin until he died of cancer some years ago, and now she is dating again. Amy found this out the other day in the grocery store. "Isn't she like, ancient?" asked a ridiculous young person [whom I will not name] when I shared the happy news. Actually, she's 60, and I think if you are alone at 60 there's no reason why romance couldn't be even sweeter, in its way, than at 20.
As Paul's aunt Allene said when she married Rudy, the little things don't matter so much when you're this age.
I like married romance too, like Richard the visiting preacher telling us how crazy he is about his wife, and Paul the husband looking happy when I walk into the room.
Romance is good.
Quote of the Day: (speaking of romance...)
Jenny: Steven, do you wanna get a rooster?
Steven: Why?
Jenny: So you can have chicks!
Steven: I'll wait till I'm 18.
If I had been born into a Fiddler on the Roof sort of life, I think I would have been Yenta the Matchmaker.
I have matched lots of couples in my head that actually ended up getting together later.
I am so glad it has all worked out for Paul's nephew Randy and Shelley from Iowa. Their courtship will be a story for the grandchildren on waiting for God to work it all out. And here they are.
Then there's the lady who lives down the road at the blueberry patch and who was married to Paul's dad's cousin until he died of cancer some years ago, and now she is dating again. Amy found this out the other day in the grocery store. "Isn't she like, ancient?" asked a ridiculous young person [whom I will not name] when I shared the happy news. Actually, she's 60, and I think if you are alone at 60 there's no reason why romance couldn't be even sweeter, in its way, than at 20.
As Paul's aunt Allene said when she married Rudy, the little things don't matter so much when you're this age.
I like married romance too, like Richard the visiting preacher telling us how crazy he is about his wife, and Paul the husband looking happy when I walk into the room.
Romance is good.
Quote of the Day: (speaking of romance...)
Jenny: Steven, do you wanna get a rooster?
Steven: Why?
Jenny: So you can have chicks!
Steven: I'll wait till I'm 18.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Something I Am Good At
Don't ever let me whine that I'm not good at anything because I am very good at barfing.
Some people [such as someone I'm married to] get sick on their stomachs and go to great groaning contortions to keep from throwing up. I don't get it. Just go get the job done; you'll feel much better, is my philosophy.
Last night I was at the kitchen table filling out the kids' student-convention forms, and I was hungry. So I ate a banana. I was still hungry. So I rummaged in the school-lunch-snacks bin and came up with Corn Nuts, which sounded nutritious because the only ingredients were corn, vegetable oil, and salt.
I did more paperwork and nibbled Corn Nuts. And then I began to have the distinct impression that maybe this snack was not such a good idea. But I finished the bag, of course, because I am a Yoder by birth.
All night long the banana and Corn Nuts fought in my stomach while wild dreams battled in my head. I woke up this morning thinking Man, if I didn't know better I'd think I had to throw up. I put some water on for tea. And then I went to the bathroom and threw up.
I am good at this--the little sharp intake of breath that brings it right up, keeping it out of my nose, making a quick, clean job of a very nasty business.
Quote of the Day:
"I'll take the triangle and you can have the trapezoid."
--Ben, cutting the last piece of cake for him and Jenny
Some people [such as someone I'm married to] get sick on their stomachs and go to great groaning contortions to keep from throwing up. I don't get it. Just go get the job done; you'll feel much better, is my philosophy.
Last night I was at the kitchen table filling out the kids' student-convention forms, and I was hungry. So I ate a banana. I was still hungry. So I rummaged in the school-lunch-snacks bin and came up with Corn Nuts, which sounded nutritious because the only ingredients were corn, vegetable oil, and salt.
I did more paperwork and nibbled Corn Nuts. And then I began to have the distinct impression that maybe this snack was not such a good idea. But I finished the bag, of course, because I am a Yoder by birth.
All night long the banana and Corn Nuts fought in my stomach while wild dreams battled in my head. I woke up this morning thinking Man, if I didn't know better I'd think I had to throw up. I put some water on for tea. And then I went to the bathroom and threw up.
I am good at this--the little sharp intake of breath that brings it right up, keeping it out of my nose, making a quick, clean job of a very nasty business.
Quote of the Day:
"I'll take the triangle and you can have the trapezoid."
--Ben, cutting the last piece of cake for him and Jenny
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Book Review
Sometimes I like to go vanity Googling to see if there are any new reviews of my books out there or links to my blog or other such strokes.
Not sure if this is pride going before a fall or what, but today I found this book review, at least I think that's what it is:
Quote of the Day:
"I'm giving 5 star! Dorcas Smucker is an unique author, ingenuous and constructive. You can no higher than collect in the air where on earth you disappeared long-gone its sell-by date minus difficult going by the troop of inwardly benefaction of remembering a full prearranged of wanting piece of the scene of the legend. This is excessive for family who aren't whole bookworms and don't sit for hours reading at a incident. I identify near how she grab her manuscript launch accordingly that all chapter is different/not necessarily linked to the closing. All in all, a especially demure read! And congratulations, Dorcas! Farmers & Ranchers Upstairs the Peasants Are Revolting:."
Not sure if this is pride going before a fall or what, but today I found this book review, at least I think that's what it is:
Quote of the Day:
"I'm giving 5 star! Dorcas Smucker is an unique author, ingenuous and constructive. You can no higher than collect in the air where on earth you disappeared long-gone its sell-by date minus difficult going by the troop of inwardly benefaction of remembering a full prearranged of wanting piece of the scene of the legend. This is excessive for family who aren't whole bookworms and don't sit for hours reading at a incident. I identify near how she grab her manuscript launch accordingly that all chapter is different/not necessarily linked to the closing. All in all, a especially demure read! And congratulations, Dorcas! Farmers & Ranchers Upstairs the Peasants Are Revolting:."
Trip Ideas
I've been busy recovering from the last trip and preparing for the one to Ohio next week, and suddenly I realized there's one trip I haven't planned yet and really really need to: Steven's "12 Trip," the traditional mother-child trip I take theoretically when the kids are 12 but it ends up being much later, usually.
Anyway. I think one reason I've put it off with Steven is that I don't know what to do with him. He would enjoy something like bungee jumping, bullriding, hunting, skydiving, whitewater rafting, shark fishing, the burning part of the Burning Man festival, that sort of thing, fueled by any food involving large amounts of beef or sugar.
We all know how excited I get about danger, heights, and getting cold and wet.
I would enjoy museums, garage sales, and afternoon tea.
If you have any ideas for something we could do together, please comment. It should be within 5 hours of home and involve a day trip or one overnight.
Quote of the Day:
Paul [at a revival meeting this week]: Everybody seems to like to sit in the back, so you should all make sure you come early and get the good seats.
Konrad K. [after church]: That was a very Paul-like thing to say.
Anyway. I think one reason I've put it off with Steven is that I don't know what to do with him. He would enjoy something like bungee jumping, bullriding, hunting, skydiving, whitewater rafting, shark fishing, the burning part of the Burning Man festival, that sort of thing, fueled by any food involving large amounts of beef or sugar.
We all know how excited I get about danger, heights, and getting cold and wet.
I would enjoy museums, garage sales, and afternoon tea.
If you have any ideas for something we could do together, please comment. It should be within 5 hours of home and involve a day trip or one overnight.
Quote of the Day:
Paul [at a revival meeting this week]: Everybody seems to like to sit in the back, so you should all make sure you come early and get the good seats.
Konrad K. [after church]: That was a very Paul-like thing to say.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Afterthoughts
Emily is moved in at Emilot, her "castle" in Colorado. And Paul and I are back home after driving for 22 hours straight. Paul the brilliant husband put an air mattress in the back of the van so if we weren't driving we could lie down and sleep.
Coming home is much more pleasant if Amy has been at home in the meantime. Just the fact that she made the kids spend five minutes a day picking up the living room makes such a difference.
It would be good not to ask me how I'm doing just now. "Mixed emotions" is a polite cliche that works pretty well in this case.
However. The heaviness of it all was balanced by calling Emily this morning as we drove across eastern Oregon, just at the right moment when there was a bit of cell phone service, and hearing her say that she's getting ready to go to work.
When you have seen your daughter sick for over a year, it is a fine and wonderful thing to know that she is getting up and getting dressed and headed out the door to a real job.
Work bestows dignity and worth, and you don't generally think about this until you can't work.
She's working at the thrift store in Canon City that helps to fund New Horizon Ministry's work with taking care of babies born to moms in prison. This week she works two hours a day, next week, God willing, more. And on up to five full days a week like a normal person.
The ache of leaving Emily was also balanced by the astonishing kindness and care of others. The day she was moving in, about four neighbors introduced themselves and offered to be there for her if she needs help. One neighbor offered marigold seeds. Numerous people at church told me they will try to watch out for her. Kay Knepp got a list of Emily's allergies and promptly put together a Sunday dinner that was safe for her to eat and marvelously delicious besides, and also said emphatically that Emily is part of the family and she can stop by anytime without calling first. Dallas and Travis Knepp hauled furniture and nearly performed miracles with carrying large furniture through small doors. Two strangers stopped to ask Emily if she needs help when she was riding her electric scooter to Knepps and got lost. The thrift-store supervisory team sat down with us and listened and spelled out how things would work. Various people in NHM came up with ideas of how Emily's talents could be used as soon as she feels able--in drama, mentoring younger girls, and more.
"Grateful" really can't describe how Paul and I feel about all this. It's like God uses his people to bathe a difficult situation in his amazing soothing grace.
On the way home, I was thinking back, mommishly, about Emily's childhood, from the time she was a baby on an Indian reservation and the Indian kids oohed and aahed over her "silver" eyes, to the years in Bud and Mary's house, when she manifested her dreamy imagination and quirky outlook on life, to the tough early-teen years and all the health issues, and the trials of the last year and a half.
"The story wasn't supposed to end like this," I thought tearfully. And immediately felt a correction from God--it isn't the end of the story; only the end of a chapter. The story is a long way from over.
Quote of the Day:
"But you know what they say, behind the open door is an uneven floor."
--Emily, on her Xanga, about moving to Colorado and Emilot. From this post.
Coming home is much more pleasant if Amy has been at home in the meantime. Just the fact that she made the kids spend five minutes a day picking up the living room makes such a difference.
It would be good not to ask me how I'm doing just now. "Mixed emotions" is a polite cliche that works pretty well in this case.
However. The heaviness of it all was balanced by calling Emily this morning as we drove across eastern Oregon, just at the right moment when there was a bit of cell phone service, and hearing her say that she's getting ready to go to work.
When you have seen your daughter sick for over a year, it is a fine and wonderful thing to know that she is getting up and getting dressed and headed out the door to a real job.
Work bestows dignity and worth, and you don't generally think about this until you can't work.
She's working at the thrift store in Canon City that helps to fund New Horizon Ministry's work with taking care of babies born to moms in prison. This week she works two hours a day, next week, God willing, more. And on up to five full days a week like a normal person.
The ache of leaving Emily was also balanced by the astonishing kindness and care of others. The day she was moving in, about four neighbors introduced themselves and offered to be there for her if she needs help. One neighbor offered marigold seeds. Numerous people at church told me they will try to watch out for her. Kay Knepp got a list of Emily's allergies and promptly put together a Sunday dinner that was safe for her to eat and marvelously delicious besides, and also said emphatically that Emily is part of the family and she can stop by anytime without calling first. Dallas and Travis Knepp hauled furniture and nearly performed miracles with carrying large furniture through small doors. Two strangers stopped to ask Emily if she needs help when she was riding her electric scooter to Knepps and got lost. The thrift-store supervisory team sat down with us and listened and spelled out how things would work. Various people in NHM came up with ideas of how Emily's talents could be used as soon as she feels able--in drama, mentoring younger girls, and more.
"Grateful" really can't describe how Paul and I feel about all this. It's like God uses his people to bathe a difficult situation in his amazing soothing grace.
On the way home, I was thinking back, mommishly, about Emily's childhood, from the time she was a baby on an Indian reservation and the Indian kids oohed and aahed over her "silver" eyes, to the years in Bud and Mary's house, when she manifested her dreamy imagination and quirky outlook on life, to the tough early-teen years and all the health issues, and the trials of the last year and a half.
"The story wasn't supposed to end like this," I thought tearfully. And immediately felt a correction from God--it isn't the end of the story; only the end of a chapter. The story is a long way from over.
Quote of the Day:
"But you know what they say, behind the open door is an uneven floor."
--Emily, on her Xanga, about moving to Colorado and Emilot. From this post.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Random Stuff
Emily thinks if she were a celebrity she would get addicted to fame.
We are sitting at her dining room table in Colorado. She is at one end with her computer; I am at the other end with mine. Paul is out somewhere picking up a mattress and box spring and frame. That man can pack more stuff into a van than anyone else on earth. It's like he turns it into Mary Poppins' bag. People came in here the last few days and couldn't believe we got all this stuff into the van and a scooter besides.
Maybe it's time we leave, because Emz has been plaguing me with questions like, "Why did you want to have children?" and "Do you think you're a really good writer?" Also, I just talked to Amy and she told me that Steven was cleaning the bathroom and he would light a match and spray it with a shot of air freshener and take great pleasure in the WHOOF. Yeah, time to go home I think.
I enjoy being at home. I enjoy being away from home. What I don't enjoy is arrving home, like the first 24 hours. That's when the tsunami hits. Everything yells at me at once, in equal volume. Everything. The newspapers on the living room floor, the garbage bill, the egg bits on the stove, the three phone calls to return, the article to write, the cat food bag that Hansie dragged onto the porch, the sad daughter who needs Mom time, the hungry boys, the husband who thinks by talking and needs a listening ear, the full laundry hampers, the rides to arrange, the students' photos for convention to critique, the mail to sort, the vitamins to arrange in the cupboard.
Ever since I read up on ADD I attribute this tsunami syndrome to it. Paul comes home and he can say, Ok, this needs to be done right now, this other stuff can wait. Whereas I find my brain in a complete buzz and I end up organizing my vitamin bottles when much more urgent things are waiting or I am so overwhelmed it paralyzes me and I can't do anything.
Two more trips and then God willing I'm home to stay for a good long while.
Paul gets a mysterious high from planning. He just absolutely loves to plan. This August is our 25th anniversary and he figured out that the only time we can take an anniversary trip is the following spring. So the other week we started talking about this and he was all about where would I like to go and for how long and on and on. Now this was smack in the middle of numerous trips to Redmond and beyond, and the last thing I wanted to do was plan another trip, especially a whole year ahead. And I told him so in not very nice terms. Now I feel sorry for him. Well, for all our differences we have lasted for almost 25 years, so there.
I enjoyed all the comments and perspectives on my ADD post. Just to set everyone's mind at ease, I have no intention of taking medication. Maybe a few natural supplements, but no Ritalin or anything. And I also don't see it as any sort of excuse for not doing what needs to be done.
Special thanks to Mrs. I for her encouragement, and for putting it so well: I think it is largely genetic, with some environmental conditions and nutritional compromises exacerbating the problem. You and I both were ADD-ish long before we were familiar with anything more tech-y than a rotary dial telephone.
Very true.
Last night I was trying to email some Craigslist ads and Paul and Emily kept talking and it was terribly frustrating. And I thought, Ah, this is how my brain works; I can't filter out distractions. So I kindly asked them to talk elsewhere, and they cheerfully complied.
Which is not anything profound, maybe, but even minor increased perspective, clarity, understanding, and dot-connecting are good.
Probably the most helpful insight, which you won't get if you haven't been in my situation, is that housework really is harder for me than it is for other people. And it is ok to feel a sense of accomplishment for finishing something that other people find easy but I find hard.
Wait, you don't want to know all this. I'll be quiet now.
Except for one other epiphany: I forgot to bring extra tea along, so I bought some here--nice black quality Lipton tea in little pyramid bags. I boiled water in Emily's hot pot and brewed my tea. The first three times I thought, My, this is awfully weak tea for how much I paid for this. I made sure the water was really boiling well the next time. Same result. Then, the light bulb moment: Canon City is about a mile high. So water boils long before it reaches 212 degrees. And so of course it doesn't extract as much flavor.
Quote of the Day:
Emily: I have a picture of Brandon brushing his teeth.
Me: What?!
Emily: (turns computer around and shows me Brandon in a bathroom mirror, brushing)
Me: What in the world? Where did you take that? Was it at youth camp? At our house?
Emily: It makes more sense when you remember this computer used to belong to Matt.
We are sitting at her dining room table in Colorado. She is at one end with her computer; I am at the other end with mine. Paul is out somewhere picking up a mattress and box spring and frame. That man can pack more stuff into a van than anyone else on earth. It's like he turns it into Mary Poppins' bag. People came in here the last few days and couldn't believe we got all this stuff into the van and a scooter besides.
Maybe it's time we leave, because Emz has been plaguing me with questions like, "Why did you want to have children?" and "Do you think you're a really good writer?" Also, I just talked to Amy and she told me that Steven was cleaning the bathroom and he would light a match and spray it with a shot of air freshener and take great pleasure in the WHOOF. Yeah, time to go home I think.
I enjoy being at home. I enjoy being away from home. What I don't enjoy is arrving home, like the first 24 hours. That's when the tsunami hits. Everything yells at me at once, in equal volume. Everything. The newspapers on the living room floor, the garbage bill, the egg bits on the stove, the three phone calls to return, the article to write, the cat food bag that Hansie dragged onto the porch, the sad daughter who needs Mom time, the hungry boys, the husband who thinks by talking and needs a listening ear, the full laundry hampers, the rides to arrange, the students' photos for convention to critique, the mail to sort, the vitamins to arrange in the cupboard.
Ever since I read up on ADD I attribute this tsunami syndrome to it. Paul comes home and he can say, Ok, this needs to be done right now, this other stuff can wait. Whereas I find my brain in a complete buzz and I end up organizing my vitamin bottles when much more urgent things are waiting or I am so overwhelmed it paralyzes me and I can't do anything.
Two more trips and then God willing I'm home to stay for a good long while.
Paul gets a mysterious high from planning. He just absolutely loves to plan. This August is our 25th anniversary and he figured out that the only time we can take an anniversary trip is the following spring. So the other week we started talking about this and he was all about where would I like to go and for how long and on and on. Now this was smack in the middle of numerous trips to Redmond and beyond, and the last thing I wanted to do was plan another trip, especially a whole year ahead. And I told him so in not very nice terms. Now I feel sorry for him. Well, for all our differences we have lasted for almost 25 years, so there.
I enjoyed all the comments and perspectives on my ADD post. Just to set everyone's mind at ease, I have no intention of taking medication. Maybe a few natural supplements, but no Ritalin or anything. And I also don't see it as any sort of excuse for not doing what needs to be done.
Special thanks to Mrs. I for her encouragement, and for putting it so well: I think it is largely genetic, with some environmental conditions and nutritional compromises exacerbating the problem. You and I both were ADD-ish long before we were familiar with anything more tech-y than a rotary dial telephone.
Very true.
Last night I was trying to email some Craigslist ads and Paul and Emily kept talking and it was terribly frustrating. And I thought, Ah, this is how my brain works; I can't filter out distractions. So I kindly asked them to talk elsewhere, and they cheerfully complied.
Which is not anything profound, maybe, but even minor increased perspective, clarity, understanding, and dot-connecting are good.
Probably the most helpful insight, which you won't get if you haven't been in my situation, is that housework really is harder for me than it is for other people. And it is ok to feel a sense of accomplishment for finishing something that other people find easy but I find hard.
Wait, you don't want to know all this. I'll be quiet now.
Except for one other epiphany: I forgot to bring extra tea along, so I bought some here--nice black quality Lipton tea in little pyramid bags. I boiled water in Emily's hot pot and brewed my tea. The first three times I thought, My, this is awfully weak tea for how much I paid for this. I made sure the water was really boiling well the next time. Same result. Then, the light bulb moment: Canon City is about a mile high. So water boils long before it reaches 212 degrees. And so of course it doesn't extract as much flavor.
Quote of the Day:
Emily: I have a picture of Brandon brushing his teeth.
Me: What?!
Emily: (turns computer around and shows me Brandon in a bathroom mirror, brushing)
Me: What in the world? Where did you take that? Was it at youth camp? At our house?
Emily: It makes more sense when you remember this computer used to belong to Matt.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
ADD
So a while back I offhandedly joked that I must be a bit ADD because I constantly fidget in church and I always have a bunch of unfinished projects around.
Then the time-before-last when I was at Emily's I was sitting there in the library waiting for the computer to warm up and glanced at the books on the shelf beside me and randomly chose one called something like ADD in Adults.
I flipped through it and there was a test to take to see if you have ADD.
I took it. And I cannot tell you how bizarre it was, as a 40-something mom and minister's wife, to mentally check off symptom after symptom. 40% is a positive diagnosis, said the book, and I was about 60%.
Obviously that piqued my curiosity and I did some research online. Now I will grant that a lot of these ADD sites have a not-so-hidden agenda of making money, so I took them with a grain of salt. But still. It is a strange thing to have your daily struggles delineated there, one after the other, with an actual name for them.
One website listed the following symptoms, all of which describe me to a T:
My biggest struggle has always been with housework, and I have always felt like a freak for this. Other women seem to have this mysterious magic way of just getting it done and having time for other things, while I feel like I can work all day and not get anything done and I am always, always, behind and most of the time it feels completely overwhelming.
[A situation that is not helped, lately, by never being at home. Sigh]
Anyway, this is a whole new thought, and a rather nice one, that maybe there is actually an issue with how my brain works, and it has a name, and there are concrete ways of coping with it.
As opposed to a moral issue, and a matter of just making up my mind once and for all to be more like my sister instead of so lazy and undisciplined and scatterbrained, and all the other lovely messages my frustrated parents fed into my head because they had no tools for dealing with me, and I have to say I feel more sorry for them than for me.
It has been gratifying to read how-to-cope websites and find things that I've already learned to do, such as using timers to keep myself on task for 15 minutes at a time, and making detailed lists. [My lovely sisters used to find my lists and giggle at how detailed they were, and then add "breathe" and "go to the bathroom" and other necessary items that I had "forgotten".]
And it has also been gratifying to find that there are definite gifts that go with ADD, including--
(Quote from this site)
Then the time-before-last when I was at Emily's I was sitting there in the library waiting for the computer to warm up and glanced at the books on the shelf beside me and randomly chose one called something like ADD in Adults.
I flipped through it and there was a test to take to see if you have ADD.
I took it. And I cannot tell you how bizarre it was, as a 40-something mom and minister's wife, to mentally check off symptom after symptom. 40% is a positive diagnosis, said the book, and I was about 60%.
Obviously that piqued my curiosity and I did some research online. Now I will grant that a lot of these ADD sites have a not-so-hidden agenda of making money, so I took them with a grain of salt. But still. It is a strange thing to have your daily struggles delineated there, one after the other, with an actual name for them.
One website listed the following symptoms, all of which describe me to a T:
- Procrastination; difficulty getting started on projects
- Excessive disorganization and messiness
- Inability to prioritize tasks
- Underestimating the time needed to finish a task
- Difficulty sustaining effort over long periods of time
- Starting multiple tasks, but never completing any of them
- Missing deadlines
- Inability to screen out distractions
- "Zoning out" when others are talking
- Randomly skipping from topic to topic in conversation
- Forgetting appointments
- Constantly losing or misplacing things
- Low tolerance for frustration and stress
- restlessness, nervous energy
- have a hard time organizing projects and delegating work,
- have difficulty completing projects on time,
- spend hours at work, but get very little done,
- get distracted by trivial tasks, while neglecting the most important ones
My biggest struggle has always been with housework, and I have always felt like a freak for this. Other women seem to have this mysterious magic way of just getting it done and having time for other things, while I feel like I can work all day and not get anything done and I am always, always, behind and most of the time it feels completely overwhelming.
[A situation that is not helped, lately, by never being at home. Sigh]
Anyway, this is a whole new thought, and a rather nice one, that maybe there is actually an issue with how my brain works, and it has a name, and there are concrete ways of coping with it.
As opposed to a moral issue, and a matter of just making up my mind once and for all to be more like my sister instead of so lazy and undisciplined and scatterbrained, and all the other lovely messages my frustrated parents fed into my head because they had no tools for dealing with me, and I have to say I feel more sorry for them than for me.
It has been gratifying to read how-to-cope websites and find things that I've already learned to do, such as using timers to keep myself on task for 15 minutes at a time, and making detailed lists. [My lovely sisters used to find my lists and giggle at how detailed they were, and then add "breathe" and "go to the bathroom" and other necessary items that I had "forgotten".]
And it has also been gratifying to find that there are definite gifts that go with ADD, including--
(Quote from this site)
- Creativity – People with ADD excel at thinking outside of the box, brainstorming, and finding creative solutions to problems.
- Enthusiasm and spontaneity – People with ADD are free spirits with lively minds—qualities that makes for good company and engrossing conversation.
- A quick mind - People with ADD have the ability to think on their feet, quickly absorb new information (as long as it’s interesting), and multitask with ease. Their rapid-fire minds thrive on stimulation.
Hyperfocus: A Positive Symptom of ADD / ADHD
While adults with ADHD have great difficulty maintaining attention, those same individuals often are able to “hyperfocus” for long periods of time on tasks or projects that they find interesting. When they’re “in the zone,” people with ADD often lose all concept of time. Hours pass as if they are minutes. This single-minded ability to hyperfocus can lead to significant accomplishments, discoveries, and creative breakthroughs.
(End of quote but I can't turn off the italics for some reason)
I am not saying, of course, that this is a definitive diagnosis and an excuse for everything. I am just saying it is a very cool thing to find words for vague things and names for nameless things and real people that share in something that can feel alone and shameful and secret.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Ohio Appearances
Some people have been asking me if they can attend the ladies' retreat in Plain City, Ohio, that I'll be speaking at in March.
The United Bethel ladies decided to restrict the retreat to UB ladies only, since this is their only event of the year and the purpose is to have a sister-bonding time.
My good friend Mary Kropf is arranging a small lunch event in the Plain City area on Friday, March 13, for women who won't be at the retreat. I'll be speaking for about 45 minutes and then we'll eat lunch and socialize. I'll have books available also.
You'll cover the cost of your own lunch. If more than 15 ladies show up, they can't take individual orders and you'll pay a prearranged fee.
If you would like to attend, please contact Mary at marikrop@gmail.com. And be sure to thank her for doing this.
[Note--My apologies--I put an extra letter in Mary's email address. This is now the right one.]
Paul and I will be in the Dalton, Ohio, area (I think that's Holmes County) the week after the retreat (March 16-22) and Paul will be preaching every night at--oh dear I can't remember the name of the church and Paul can't either--but Leonard Wenger is the pastor. I'll be speaking at a ladies' brunch there one morning--the date hasn't been decided yet. Let me know if you want more information about this.
And then I'll come home and be quiet for a while.
Quote of the Day:
"Jenny, we should start a group called KAJAF. Kids Against Jo-Ann Fabrics."
--Ben, one day when both he and Jenny had the misfortune of going shopping with me
The United Bethel ladies decided to restrict the retreat to UB ladies only, since this is their only event of the year and the purpose is to have a sister-bonding time.
My good friend Mary Kropf is arranging a small lunch event in the Plain City area on Friday, March 13, for women who won't be at the retreat. I'll be speaking for about 45 minutes and then we'll eat lunch and socialize. I'll have books available also.
You'll cover the cost of your own lunch. If more than 15 ladies show up, they can't take individual orders and you'll pay a prearranged fee.
If you would like to attend, please contact Mary at marikrop@gmail.com. And be sure to thank her for doing this.
[Note--My apologies--I put an extra letter in Mary's email address. This is now the right one.]
Paul and I will be in the Dalton, Ohio, area (I think that's Holmes County) the week after the retreat (March 16-22) and Paul will be preaching every night at--oh dear I can't remember the name of the church and Paul can't either--but Leonard Wenger is the pastor. I'll be speaking at a ladies' brunch there one morning--the date hasn't been decided yet. Let me know if you want more information about this.
And then I'll come home and be quiet for a while.
Quote of the Day:
"Jenny, we should start a group called KAJAF. Kids Against Jo-Ann Fabrics."
--Ben, one day when both he and Jenny had the misfortune of going shopping with me
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