The Winter Solstice and Such.

On December 15, I finished my grading and turned in my grades. I finished my first semester back in teaching. I did it. Despite enormous personal and medical obstacles, I made it. But I didn't really celebrate that day or that weekend because the boys weren't done yet. 

On December 17, Sunday, I finally saw Bruce. We hadn't seen each other in over a month because I'd been so sick. But that afternoon, we met at Barnes, where he found me in among the journals. Bruce bought me a peppermint mocha frap; I hadn't had one in years. We talked for a long time in the cafe and then walked around. I had decided to buy magazines. I bought five, two of them Christmas themed. I planned to read a lot of magazines during the break. I also bought a tiny Penguin Modern book, Create Dangerously by Albert Camus. I thought Josh and I could read it, and then, I could keep it in my purse. My pocket copy of Writing Down the Bones doesn't fit in my current purse. I also spilled Shirley Temple on it, but that's okay. We found a couple of great-looking horror books that I wanted us to read together, and I tried to remember their titles. I ended up buying another slim book called The Art of Frugal Hedonism. It has no price mark. But spending less and enjoying everything more sounded good. I just figured I'd skip over the inevitable sections on marijuana. We inhaled the candles, so lovely and so expensive. And I pined for a $20 Paper Source silver and gold star garland, but I didn't buy it. I did buy a pair of holiday book socks because how could I not? I'd seen them online, and I looked for them specifically.

On December 19, I picked Oliver up just after noon. I had, just that morning, packed Christmas cards and $20 bills in Oliver's backpack for his teachers. I figured that they'd probably just want cash for gas or whatever more than any silly gift I could choose. Oliver was in good spirits, but I worried, knowing it would be a long time before he went back to school. We went home and hung out for a few hours, hoping Josh would get off early. I finished listening to Wintering by Katherine May, a book I discovered when I was very depressed in the winter of early 2021. I read it as an E-book and later bought the hardcover because it became one of my favorite books. I had recently used an Audible credit for the audio book as well, thinking I might enjoy rereading by listening. Josh had begun the E-book as we've finally figured out how to share our Kindle libraries. He's actually found several books to read among my books.

Josh did not get off early. We went to pick him up at 4. I had asked if we could go to Kohl's, where I had an order waiting: a set of pink and gray velour star pajamas. My grandmother used to buy me Christmas Eve pajamas every year when I was a child, and it became one of my favorite holiday traditions along with complicated gifts in stockings (no candy canes for our family). Josh ran in and grabbed my PJs, and then, we went to Barnes. I was glad to be back so soon. Josh got me an iced peppermint mocha, got Oliver a giant chocolate chip cookie, and got himself a Diet Coke. While he was doing that, I went back to the gift displays. I was delighted to find that much of the holiday decor (alas, none of the pretty Christmas books) was on sale, 50% off! I picked up the now-$10 star garland and a now-$7 mini tin Woodfire candle. I brought these back to the table along with a running book for Josh to peruse. I found that he had gotten me a slice of cheesecake as well! So, we had a little party there in the cafe, and I decided that I really must get to bookstores much more often. That evening, Josh pinned the star garland above my Cinderella display. It will stay up all year. I decided that day that I would have an iced peppermint mocha every day until Christmas.

Just two days later came the winter solstice. A whole chapter of Wintering is devoted to the winter solstice, primarily to pagan rituals and celebrations. May actually went to Stonehenge to see the sun rise! I am not a pagan, but the frequent Druid festivals do appeal to me. So, what did I do? First of all, Josh made his excellent banana walnut chocolate chip muffins. At some point, I had my iced peppermint mocha. The best places add chocolate shavings to the whipped cream. 

I set aside my Diamine Inkvent calendar (one of the coolest creations ever) and fountain pens after I finished my Italian celestial journal. I found a journal that I stickered perhaps two years ago as a special Christmas journal...lots of snowflakes, trees, presents, and even Christmas fairies inside. I forgot to use it last year. But I started it on the solstice, a Compoco journal in deep blues and gold with an hour glass, a tiny sail boat moving toward a rising sun, and the words Time to Wander. I thought it was a perfect journal for the end of the year. I started it with a Pentel Hybrid Dual Metallic pen, silver with light green glitter. It made me think of icecaps. 

I wore my purple hoodie and my favorite black star coatigan, which was extra soft as I'd just washed it. It's a little ratty already (I got it last year), but I love it anyway. Josh took Oliver to the trampoline park, and while they were out, I watched Little Women, another Christmas tradition I have decided to establish. This year, it was the Greta Gerwig version, in part because Bruce was going to take me to see Wonka. I automatically loved Timothee Chalamet because he was Laurie! That version is not linear, so it doesn't have as much of a Christmas feeling as the Winona Ryder or BBC films do. Still, I was happy to rewatch it. I think Mom and I saw it on Christmas Day the year it came out. I'm always happy to rewatch a Little Women or a Jane Eyre. In fact, I asked Bruce to watch the BBC's Little Women earlier this year. 

The Pumpkin Vanilla Creme candle in the living room burned out, so I replaced it with a 'Tis the Season candle, which has a good bit of cinnamon scent, my favorite. The candle in the study burned out too (Merry Cookie), so I replaced it with a Holiday candle, which has an even stronger cinnamon scent. The Vanilla Bean Noel candle continued to burn in the foyer. 

When the boys got home, we drove to Arnette Park to see the Christmas Town light display. The whole enterprise took over an hour, and it's something I'm satisfied to do just once. But it was pretty impressive, massive arches of lights, twinkling trees, and so many animated characters. We listened to our Christmas playlist, which includes each of our favorites (Aaron Neville and Michael Crawford for me) and the James Taylor album we discovered together. Oliver didn't seem to mind the outing, but he was very sleepy when we got home. 

When the boys went to bed, I chose and decorated my Christmas journal for next year! It is a purple Papier journal (fountain pen friendly) with stars, my name, and Stardust Wishes on the cover. Papier journals are expensive (about $30), but they're personalized. I try to buy a few each year if I can. 

After that, I took a hot Twisted Peppermint bubble bath (yes, I have kept Bath & Body Works in business). It wasn't a perfect day. I felt enormous sadness at one point, and I cried more than I ever have in front of Josh. But unlike my recent mixed episode (see the sister blog, Water in a Wineglass), my emotions that day felt like a variety of healthy, genuine feelings. That was refreshing. I stayed up late writing, but it wasn't compulsive...I just felt like writing into the night.

The next day, Bruce and Corey took me to see Wonka. It was pretty great. I had popcorn with far too much butter (the employee really lay on the dispenser). I had an unpleasant moment when a man ran into me and groped me, and that shook me. But I was determined not to let it ruin touch, public spaces, or crowds for me. So, I hugged the guys goodbye, and instead of going home, I drove to Barnes. Yes, again. I got myself coffee and a caprese sandwich, which I brought home. But I made myself look at the journals again before I left, just to ground myself in what I love. 

I had expected that we wouldn't be able to see family for Christmas because of my continued illness, but we went to Charlotte anyway. And though I caught another cold (I was just getting over one), it was a good time. And Josh got me an iced peppermint mocha on Christmas Eve, right before the Starbucks closed. 

Writing Conference Prompts: Lies and Fears.

What am I pretending not to know? If I were willing to admit it, what would change my life?

• I’m really not sure what I’m pretending not to know. Sometimes, I pretend not to know that Josh and I are addicts (behaviors, not substances), but I think I’ve acknowledged it to the point that I can start healing and we can continue the recovery journey together. 
• I pretend not to know how much I need books and what a crummy reader I am. I have to take ownership of that.
• I pretend not to know how much bitterness I have toward a couple of people. I can't resolve it, so I try not to feel it. None of these things seem all that revelatory in a good way.
• I pretend not to know that I should write publically and publish. I tell myself I don’t want the notoriety, that I’m content with scribbling in a journal. But maybe I don’t want to be what Alexandra Johnson calls a “hidden writer.” 
• I pretend not to know that I’m capable of writing poems and stories and books. 
• I pretend not to know what I can do. 
• I pretend not to know the difference between rest and laziness…it’s a difficult distinction, but I think I know it. I should, anyway. Or do other people struggle with that too?
• I pretend not to know that I have some horrible thoughts that probably stem from some intense mental illness or depravity. Or maybe I pretend not to know that those thoughts, the intrusive ones, are a version of normal. I don’t really see how any of this liberates me. 
• I pretend not to know how bad I am at managing time. 
• I pretend not to know how tired I am. 

Something I no longer fear: 

I’m not really afraid that Josh doesn’t love me. I know he does, has, and will. It won’t be perfect. He will hurt me. He may betray me. But it’s real. The good things count. The memories count even if he wasn't fully present. I also no longer fear that I won't be able to forgive him. And I no longer fear that I will betray myself.

I'm no longer afraid that I will betray Josh in some way. I've betrayed his trust before, but that was a long time ago. The more recent times I've caused him to mistrust me feel distant too because of the resolutions I've made, that I feel capapble of fulfilling. I no longer fear that I won't be able to recover. I've recovered myself before. I've put measures in place to help me be who I want to be and who my family needs me to be. I'm also no longer pretending that my worst flaws aren't that big of a deal. 

I'm no longer afraid, I think, of my parents' disapproval. I've done about the worst things I'm capable of doing. It was bad for a time, but it's not bad now. I've made the confessions I need to make. I'm trying to live well. But their approval isn't tantamount as it used to be. It doesn't control my actions through submission or through rebellion. I'm not ashamed to ask them for help. They also seemed to have accepted me a lot more as I've gotten older.

This is a lie I’ve told before:

What lies have I told? That I haven’t eaten sticky candy: a Starburst or a Skittle that pulled out my crowns. I think the dentist is the only person I lie to. I'm not much of a liar, and I've become less secretive. Maybe I embellish the truth for the sake of storytelling sometimes. Maybe I am vague about the truth. But I can't think of a recent time I've done these things. Maybe I lie to myself. Do I lie to myself about what’s important to me? Or how much rest I need (more? less?)? Or how I need to manage my time? Maybe I’ve lied about my ambition, pretending to be content with a smaller life, with journals, with writing privately. That seems to be what's coming out of the prompts today.

"The Bliss of a Certainty."

 "...and something that felt
like the bliss of a certainty and a life lived
in accordance with that certainty."

~Mary Oliver, "Varanasi"

I read this recently in A Thousand Mornings. It made me think about what certainties I have and whether or not I live "in accordance" in those certainties. 

• The world is full of more beauty and love than destruction and cruelty. Believing this allows me to live my daily life without despair.
• Mental illness is real. It's treatable but not curable. I can't cure it though force of will, goodness, or faith.
• The first steps to dealing with mental illness or any neurodivergent issue are knowledge (diagnosis and research) and acknowledgement. Acknowledgement may or may not be public, but everyone needs confidantes. I chose to seek evaluation, learn as much as possible about my diagnoses, and be open about my experience.
• Medication is a powerful and justifiable treatment for mental illness, from depression and anxiety to schizophrenia. Medication almost always helps, but it requires persistence (to weather side effects and wait for benefits to build) and flexibility (as the consumer will likely have to try multiple medications or cocktails). 
• Autism is real, and while we love those who have it, it is not a gift. Moderate and severe autism are major struggles for the consumer and the support system. Even mild autism is difficult in a world set up for allistic people. 
• PTSD is real and debilitating. I've had it. I've made a major recovery. A lot of people have PTSD without realizing or treating it. 
• My family is neurodivergent. We have autism, intellectual impairment, narcolepsy, major depression, bipolar disorder, and panic disorder. We all bear each other's differences and difficulties. 
• It is our (everyone's) responsibility to make the world safe and as comfortable as possible for neurodivergent people.
• Suicide is never the right answer. This one is a struggle, but my rational mind and my loving mind believe it. 
• Suicide, suicide attempts, and suicidal intentions deeply damage the mind, body, and loved ones. 
• I did not attempt suicide. I have had suicidal ideation and suicidal intentions. The consequences remain.
• Behavioral and mental health hospitals or wards do not, in themselves, cure or treat mental illness. They are places in which one can start to recover from trauma and can maintain safety during crises. They can also provide a rest.
• It's always okay to seek treatment for mental illness. It is, in fact, responsible, honest, and loving to do so. 
• Mental health professionals in general do want to help and will try to help. 
• Therapy can be a great treatment for a mental illness and a great tool even for people who don't have mental illness. The therapist, however, needs to be a good fit for the consumer.  
• God is real, and He hears me. That's all I know for sure right now. 
• Jesus was an extension of God, and He was here.
• One's doing something that does not mesh with religion does not mean one cannot practice that religion or access spirituality. 
• I have people who truly love me. They're not necessarily whom one would expect.
• Knowing another person, or even oneself, completely is not possible. Communication, intimacy, and introspection are, nonetheless, valuable and essential. 
• Marriage is the choice to believe that what we know is greater than what we don't know.
• College, marriage, and parenthood aren't for everyone. We need to stop acting as if they are.
• Disability is real, and people with disabilities deserve support on all possible levels. I know that getting such support is extremely difficult, and I feel good about my having sought support.
• Reading is a vital activity for the mind. Not everyone is a reader. Music, movies, theatre, and series can all be beneficial. 
• Everyone should have some access to live theatre. I have season tickets (a shocking luxury I never thought I'd have...but also a surprisingly affordable necessity), share theatre with people I love, and donate tickets I can't use to people who will then get to have their first live theatre experience.
• Libraries are essential and have powerful potential. I use my library as much as I can. People are not aware enough of this.
• Not everyone needs to play sports. Let kids in gym walk, run, lift weights, or practice yoga if they don't feel comfortable playing basketball. 
• People should never seek to humiliate others for any reason. That should not be a goal of professionalism or discipline.
• My son does not understand consequence; therefore, I have very limited options for discipline. 
• I am doing the best I can with my son...maybe not at every moment but certainty in every day. 
• I love my husband. If I had made more rational choices when I was growing up, I believe we would have met and fallen in love anyway. I just took an awful detour.
• While divorce is a terrible thing, it is sometimes necessary (and even beneficial to those involved).
• Second marriages in general are real, viable, valuable, and worthy of respect. 
• Marriage is difficult, and more support (such as couples' therapy) should be accessible. 
• Sex and cohabitation before marriage are technically wrong. However, according to my own experience, they can be a very good idea, and I don't judge people for them. I know these beliefs conflict. I do wish I had done all this before my first marriage. I (hopefully) wouldn't have gotten married. My second marriage, while technically strewn with iniquity, was much more rational.
• At the same time, we really can't predict how a person will change. I married a Christian Republican soldier. I'm now married to a liberal atheist pacifist vegetarian with narcolepsy. The funny thing is that, even now, I love them both.
• Infidelity is wrong, and I don't excuse myself for it. Love and neglect are not excuses.
• Some things can be reasons without being excuses. They don't lead to justification, but they may lead to understanding or even empathy.
• Parents should act with love toward their children no matter what. Children should never doubt that they are loved and accepted. That doesn't mean you don't call the police on a child who commits murder. 
• Children are children, even as adults. Parents hold the primary responsibility for creating and maintaining a loving, supportive relationship.
• Children, young or not, shouldn't be jerks to their parents.
• Boundaries are always healthy and essential to maintaining healthy relationships, hearts, and minds. 
• Remorse and expression of regret are essential to forgiveness. Maybe they shouldn't be, but they are.
• Most, but not all, relationships can be repaired to some extent. One has to decide whether or not enough is left to save.
• Abortion of a healthy pregnancy (which is likely to end with a healthy mother and baby) is technically wrong. I really hope I would never do it. But as with premarital sex and cohabitation, I have conflicting reactions. I'm sure I love a lot of people who have chosen abortion, and I have no right to judge them or to love them any differently. My convictions don't dictate their lives. My convictions haven't always dictated my own life...though this post is an exercise in examining that. I don't have answers for every situation either. I've never been in a situation in which I had to consider abortion, so what do I know? I've asked a friend not a get an abortion. I've offered support for other options. That's all. 
• Ending an unhealthy or non-viable pregnancy is not abortion, and no one (medically or legally) should treat it as such. 
• LGBTQIA+ issues are no more choices that choosing to embrace and live out a cis or heterosexual identity. We all choose how we act and what we do. We do not choose who we are. I do consider both gender and sexuality as aspects of identity though some people I adore might disagree. I also think that gender, sexuality, and identity itself can be fluid in general and over time.
• Trump is an evil bastard. Sorry. Do you see any fruits of the spirit in that guy? I don't. My political convictions are limited, but that one is clear. He's a terrible person and a terrible leader. I voted for the first time just to be rid of him. I'm not saying Biden is fabulous (I don't really know); he's preferable. I have family who disagree with me, and I think we all just have to avoid thinking about it (and certainly avoid talking about it) in each other's presence.
• Writing heals. Writing keeps me sane. Writing grounds and coaches me. Writing is the most important thing I do. 
• Objects (from furniture to jewelry to knick knacks) can bring beauty and joy, and nothing is wrong with embracing them in those ways. 
• I agree that everything one owns should be useful or beautiful but preferably both. I have a teal pasta claw and purple-handled knives. A good 95% of my socks have fun prints, patterns, or designs. 
• Home is important. We probably shouldn't live where we live with our income. But I am a saner, happier, kinder, better person because we live here, so we will live here as long as possible.
• Family roles should not fit (or reject for the sake of rejecting) prescriptions. Every family, whatever its shape, should grow in accordance with its needs. Family members support each other in a myriad of ways and fill in each other's gaps. For the first four years of Oliver's life, Josh was a stay-at-home dad while I maintained a difficult career that I loved. This made the most sense for our family at the time. When our needs and abilities changed, so did our roles. I'm usually more skilled and comfortable as an administrator than Josh is, so I pay bills, do taxes, and coordinate Oliver's care and education. Josh is the one who makes most of the money and brushes Oliver's teeth at night. Right now, Josh does most of the weekly chores while I do most of the daily chores. Josh usually takes Oliver to school, and I usually pick him up--this may change as we only have one car right now. I sometimes cook, but most of the time, we all eat separately as Oliver is extremely particular, I'm picky, and Josh is a vegetarian. Josh goes running most mornings. I go to the library and see my best friend on Fridays. We adjust. We trust each other to speak out when something isn't working. 

I may add to this list later, but I've gotten a good handle on some of what I believe. It's not all necessarily right or good. This is the most I've ever revealed about my own opinions, my own view of truth. It may be a mistake. But it was a good exercise for me. Now, I can think more clearly about how to live in accordance with my certainties. Thanks, Mary Oliver, for the idea.

Nourish/Challenge: Week 46.

Time is confusing me. I look at my Google calendar and at the sticky notes in my journal many times a day. Maybe I can start the new year better-oriented.

Thanksgiving was lovely. Josh kept watch over Oliver, so I could talk and listen. James came over and made me laugh as usual. We sat with Mom and Shane around an outdoor fire. I enjoyed the food but didn't overeat--a delicate skill.

At home, I tried to read poetry for an hour. It should have been easier than it was. I'll keep trying.

While Oliver is in the bathroom, I now do wall push-ups, squats, and side bends. I need the exercise, and I want to use the time.

I took a morning bath and loved it. Sometimes just moving an indulgence a bit renews the luxury.

I challenged myself, but nourishment was right there on my path too.

Oliver's Tongue Tie Surgery.

We heard that we simply had to do it, that it would greatly improve Oliver's quality of life. I worked on it for a couple of months. Mom and Shane were with us. Oliver was missing the first two days of school.

The clinic had an amazing aquatic theme. The reception desk and nurses' station had clear, rippling waves. Sea creatures came out of the ceiling. Walls had ocean murals. Mom said that the theme was more for me than for Oliver!

Josh and I went back with Oliver. The liquid sedative was a fail, but the nurse managed a nasal spray. Oliver quickly got sluggish and silly.

Dr. M came to us quickly in the lobby. She said that the surgery went well, and she again emphasized the importance of the stretches. She looks like a child of fae or a Vulcan. And she takes her handiwork seriously.

Someone took Josh and me back. Oliver was trying to wake up but kept falling over on the bed. I asked the nurses to go over the stretch with me again. She brought over Dr. M! Embarrassing. Dr. M told me to sit in the recliner; she was going to perform the stretch on me. I said okay.

What she did was extremely painful, and my body was thinking flight. I said I did have a better sense of the stretch. Josh pointed out that I had blood in my teeth. How could I do that to Oliver?

Back home, Mom was talking about the stretching. As she spoke about it, I started swaying and tapping my nail on my teeth. She said, "Are you freaking out?" I was.

So Mom did it the first time. After Oliver cried and struggled (we all held him down), I cried on Josh. Mom came over and hugged me too. She said, "What feels heavy right now?" I liked that. "What's wrong?" would minimize the obvious. I told her I was afraid I was wrong to get the surgery, and now, I'd have to hurt him every day. But she said that watching him eat and move his tongue in his mouth made her change her mind--she did believe it was a good choice. That released a lot of my tension.

A few hours later, it was my turn. Everyone waited while I washed my hands and put on gloves. It was awful, but I did it. At least, I think I did it.

The next morning, we got a free check-up with Cynthia (faux name). She empathized the necessity of frequent stretches. I knew I was going to have to do a lot of it the stretches alone, no help.

Oliver went to school to Wednesday. I made noise until I heard Oliver's name on the radios--and suddenly, I met the principal, who was super supportive. We agreed that I'd use the med room about 10 a.m. each day.

The first day, he screamed and cried. The admin staff asked, "Is he going to do that every day?" Yep. On the second day, his lead teacher brought him to the office and held him in her lap, which helped. As soon as I started to leave, I heard, "Want Mama!" After what I'd just done, he wanted me. On Friday, we had the same arrangement, except that I'd brought some metallic vehicle stickers! He chose the ambulance, which seemed appropriate.

I can't express how horrible the stretches are. He bleeds sometimes. He usually wants a coping-strategy bath afterward. We have to do this every three hours for three weeks. I feel pretty traumatized. I just keep trying to convince myself that we did and are doing what's right for Oliver long-term.

Girls' Trip 2019: Asheville, NC.

I've been to the Biltmore Estate many times with my family, but that was many years ago. When I realized that Josh and Oliver had the same spring break, Mom and I decided to go somewhere, just us.

I managed the drive to Charlotte pretty well. I had not been looking forward to this part of the trip. I drove in a worn blue-gray dress. I wore a pink cardigan. I was excited that the weather was warm enough that I didn't need tights.

Checking into the Village Inn (the less fancy option on the property) went smoothly. We were excited about the window seat. I was a little overwrought, so Mom told me to take a rest while she explored.

We went to a dinner-and-show-style place, Isis. The band was singing Paul Simon and The Beatles. It was pretty good. I drank water deeply from a clean liquor bottle. We left early because I was getting tired--physically, emotionally, and mentally. Mom was clearly looking out for me with her awareness of and patience with me.

I overpacked, but I had what I needed. Warm fleece heart pajamas. Dresses I didn't end up wearing. My Too Faced Glitter Bomb palette. My swimsuit, because who knows? I filled my antique blue train case (from Mom some years ago), which holds jewelry, a pink and gunmetal sparkle makeup bag, medication organizer, and Neutrogena's Clear Face sunscreen. I managed to bring only three pairs of shoes: light blue New Balance trainers, gold glitter slip-ons, and a nearly identical gold-glitter pair but with some heel.

I wore my pajamas to search vending machines for Cherry Coke. The machines kept giving me Coke Zero.

Mom and I went to the fancier Inn and had high tea. We both wore dresses. Mine was lilac with a Queen Anne neckline (which I like best). I ordered a pot of apple strudel as Mom suggested, and with some sugar, it was good! Maybe I'll try tea again. I drank three or four cups. I'd love to like tea.

We walked through the village area. A few small mermaid items, along with a big teal velvet shell-shaped chair, caught my attention, but not like the bag that caught light on a table. Its fellow bags had a similar look but no real appeal. But the one I walked toward was a large satchel-size purse with a removable shoulder strap. The base material was black. The whole bag was covered with shapes (mostly parallelograms) which seemed like dark mermaid scales. The scales were gunmetal gray with wild glitter. The lining was silky plum. I told Mom, "If this bag were $50, I would buy it." It was $92. I left the bag but came back in the evening. Mom said she'd planned to spend a little more on my birthday, and she had a coupon from the hotel--25% off. I got the purse for $37! Incredible. I think I'll use it for a long time, along with some of the other great purses I have. I can fit the usual items plus a book, a journal, and a water bottle!

For dinner on Monday, we had she crab soup, an abundance of mussels for Mom, and an abundance of grilled asparagus for me. That asparagus was so good.

Mom had brought bottled water and tiny bottles of apple juice. We soon learned that the water bottles wouldn't last through the second day.

On Tuesday, we went to the Biltmore. I hadn't been there in some thirteen years. The house was gorgeous as always, and as always, I barely made it up the stone spiral staircase. An exhibit showed mannequins (not scary) in costumes created from period photographs. Mom and I kept choosing and changing our favorites. One cream lace dress was covered with gold polka dots. A servant mannequin held a dress that was black with rose embroidery. Another favorite was an off-the-shoulder, black velvet gown (for a ball?) and a stunning brooch dripping with rubies.

I still want to swim in that pool. But probably not by myself.

We explored the little shops. In the Christmas one, I loved a figure of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, all beautiful and affectionate in a way I've never seen in a nativity scene. It was $50, so I didn't buy it, but I wondered where I could put it. It seems so like a reminder...that Jesus brought and was love and joy? That Mary and Joseph loved each other even after so much hardship. I think I'd like the piece even if I weren't a believer.

Mom kept buying water bottles. I drank them and refilled them with tap water. My thirst is almost like another entity in my life.

We went to The Lobster Trap for our last dinner. We split a giant Caesar salad and each ordered the Alaskan King Crab with potatoes and corn on the cob. It was pretty much perfect.

Back at the hotel, I wanted to read or write, but I was so sleepy. We watched some of October Sky.

On Wednesday morning, Mom trimmed my hair. The ends look much better now.

We went to a sort of petting zoo area that Mom had found. We saw two little brown goats named Cinder and Ella. Of course.

As we left the property, we decided to stop at a little gift shop. I saw many lovely objects. But I saw a silver, slim rectangular pair of earrings that sparkled blue, pink, and lavender. I bought them and wore them two days in a row.

The ride back to Charlotte was smooth and quick...probably because I would keep my mouth shut. The trip to Fayetteville wasn't fun, but I was glad to be home. Apparently, the boys didn't miss me much...so I can go on these trips! Big thanks to all the menfolk who encouraged us to go.

Every time I wear the earrings or go out with the purse, I think about our wonderful days and evenings in Asheville.

Glitter Something!

Glitter something has been an item on my to-do wish list for a while. My mom recently told me that she spread glitter in her new pink-and-ivory craft room. I was so pleased with this!

Wearing glitter clothes or accessories is one way to do it. I'm always on high alert. Most of the shoes I wear regularly are so sparkly. Just looking at myself gives me a boost when I'm sparkly. I have all layers of sparkly costume jewelry--some of it small and subtle and some wild statement pieces.

I've definitely spread glitter randomly. In high school especially, I sprinkled glitter in my bag and into the pages of my books and journals. Recently, I spread shiny, tiny, pink hearts over the carpet on my side of the bed.

• I use glitter pens as much as I can.
• I send sparkly greeting cards. My brother may finally see it coming now!
• My phone case is full of tiny, shiny, purple hearts.

The idea is to add more glitter, especially where it can be a joyous surprise. I need reminders that I have creative magic.

Nourish/Challenge: Week 7.

The sickness continued this past week. Both boys were home sick. I didn't accomplish much. But I did go to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Bruce. The show was quite colorful with some dark bits and plenty of strangeness. The Oompa Loompas were impressive and a little frightening...very Jim Henson. Musical theatre always lifts and nourishes me. Live theatre always amazes me.

My sweet mother sent me a care package! Snow Princess sticker doll, aquarium stickers, a beautiful gift edition of Jesus Calling (which she is reading with her Bible study group), paper plates with shining mermaid scales, and a gorgeous (and not too intricate like most adult coloring books) mermaid coloring book. I felt seen. 

I wrote a read little this past week. I did one blog post. I hope I will be able to get back to my normal routines and practices. I think some alone time will fix me up.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed having my family here.

Christmas Post Script: With Mom and Shane.

We visited Mom and Shane at their new house when Oliver was feeling better. The house is tiny, a cottage really, and it's adorable. The storage is amazing. Mom and I were quickly ready to open presents. Here are some highlights.

Mom and Shane gave Oliver a little fire station with a fire truck. He loves fire trucks.

We gave Shane some plaque-style photos, maybe for his office, and some caramel and chocolate.

I gave Mom a blush palette (since she's off the shadow), Stila lip glosses, and lilac luxuries (one of her favorite scents).

Mom and Shane gave Josh North Carolina-themed apparel and décor, which he always likes.

They gave me some theatre clothes: a gray skirt, black and purple floral top, and silver glitter top. Shane found a blue, white, and gold water bottle with a seahorse on it! I love it. Mom found mermaid notebooks and sticky flags. Mermaids have been a major theme this year, and I love it.

Mom agreed to watch The Space between Us, one of my favorites, and it meant a lot to me. She even liked it!

Mom had some magazines for Oliver to shred.

The weather was gloomy, but we were happy.

Restoration: Week 45.

Major restoration: the new theatre season has begun!

Bruce and I went to see Hamilton. I didn't know what to expect. It didn't seem like something that would interest me much, but of course, with its wild success, I was curious.

And it was great! The rap-esque songs, the choreography, the lighting, the ensemble, even the minimal sets and costumes impressed me. It was a great way to start the new season, and it refreshed my heart. Today, Mama said that theatre is medicine for my soul. So true. As I keep up with the medicine for my body and mind, I need to remember the soul.

Bruce and I also went to see Bohemian Rhapsody. We liked it. It made me remember my dad introducing me to so much music when I was small. Those are restorative memories.

And Bruce and I have been watching American Horror Story. It's not what I'd call restorative, but it's certainly refreshing. What a brilliant new approach to horror and overall storytelling! I can't wait to see more.

I do feel strong; I used to have no tolerance for horror--I would be messed up for weeks or months. The idea of horror has always fascinated me, but I couldn't handle it. Now, I don't think it's desensitization exactly, but after my own horrors (I know real fear), my courage has deepened--an astonishing restoration. I see the scary as entertaining and thought-provoking. I often analyze movies for a long time, and I love talking about movies with those I love. My brother, James, and I take movies seriously in a way that may be unusual. I'm glad we can share that.

Oliver wasn't feeling very well last week, and a few days ago, we took a nap together. He gave up his nap so many years ago, but I felt I had him, little again, in my arms.

Josh and I went to 2nd and Charles with our free time on Friday. Josh spotted a Michael Ball CD (Marius in Les Mis, Raoul in Phantom). It has some great songs, such as Phantom ones he must have wanted to try; "Lift the Wings," a gorgeous song from Riverdance, "Seasons of Love," and "Tell Me on a Sunday." $4!

A year or more ago, I found a lovely purple T-shirt with words from Darcy's little confession of love. I guess $20 seemed like too much. But while we were there the other day, I found it on sale for $5! I also bought a $3 copy Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. Cats the musical is based on this book, so it's silly that I've never read it. Cats is the last show of the theatre season, and I will be prepared!

This week was full of bright spots and some sustaining light.

Restoration: Week 40.

This past week, I gave up soda. I need to restore my body to better health and, I hope, get slimmer after my lithium-related weight gain. I love soda, so I hope to see major results.

My mother's dear friend Druella and her family decided to give their old Honda Civic to us so that Josh can drive himself to work and so I won't have to bring Oliver out past his bedtime to pick up Josh from night classes. Wow!

So we went to Charlotte to pick up the car. While we were there, we got to spend time with Dad, Michelle, and their new dog, Buckley. We shared three good meals, and Dad had us stay at a lovely hotel. Josh, Oliver, and I went straight to bed.

Bruce and I finished The Boy on the Bridge and began Annihilation. Reading together refreshes our friendship.

Bruce and I also enjoyed the return of SNL and The Good Doctor. And we finally watched Yentl. We agreed that the only change that would make Yentl better would be to have Mandy Patinkin sing. I'd forgotten how beautiful the music is. I love restoring lost joys to myself.

Restoration: Week 39.

This past week, I reached my goal of reading 50 books this year. I'm so excited! And now, I have another 2+ months to read with less structure or with a new structure I'll create. I can read more challenging works because I'm not in a rush.

Josh and I went to the gym together for the first time in a long time. I stayed on the treadmill for an hour. I hated it, but I read some on my phone. I'm sure it was good for me.

I've been sleeping more. During the day, I'm often exhausted for no good reason. I try to listen to my body, but with sleep, I don't know if it's a necessity or a self-indulgence. Of course, nothing's wrong with a some of the latter. But I've written very little this week, partly because I'm asleep. I need to restore my scribbles next week.

My son turned 7. This is amazing to me. He's enjoying school and therapy, and he's talking and playing more. We met Dad and Michelle and Mom and Shane in Spencer and rode with Thomas! The train's facial expressions were impressive and not at all creepy. We had a great time. It was nice to have the patchwork family together.

Story Snippet: My Brother on the Stairs.

A couple of years ago, the boys and I went to Mom's house for a visit. The boys had recently been in a car accident, and Josh had a fractured rib.

We'd eaten dinner and were just talking at the table. Oliver went wild and up the small flight of stairs at the other side of the house. I went to get him, but with my socks on and the hardwood and Oliver's angry wiggles as I picked him up, I didn't think we'd make it down the stairs. I called out for Josh but remembered his rib. I called out for my brother, James. He was right there, no questions.

"Can you spot me?" I asked.

He came up the stairs and walked down backward, helping me hold up Oliver.

This is a moment I treasure. My brother was there, no hesitation, when I needed him.

Restoration: Week 20.

I'll never see dark blue glass the same way again.

This week has been rough. A family tragedy kept Mom and I from going on a trip to Nashville, where I would see my dearest friend, Keely. I managed to stay mostly calm. I wanted to be brave for everyone. But finally, when my dad's wife arrived, I hugged her and cried. I guess I didn't feel like I had to take care of her, so for a few minutes, I wasn't strong. Later, I had a few minutes of having no idea where I was. But it passed.

Before that, I read two books of poetry. Poetry has been filling some need in me beyond reading in general. I'm going to read up all the poetry in the house!

Our trip to Charlotte began well. We had brunch with my dad on Saturday. I ate pecan pancakes for the second time in two days. I'm not sorry. Michelle stopped by briefly, so I could give her a present (makeup!). I love giving people gifts.

And I received a gift from Mom: a short-sleeved light gray top with silver all over and interesting layered, gathered sleeves. I was so excited to get another top that fits, and I love the shimmer. I also gave Mom a Mother's Day gift (makeup and magazines, including a lipstick she once complimented on me). I gave Shane a late birthday gift of a framed print of Oliver's recent school picture and a lot of caramel chocolates.

Mom and I played beauty shop! She dyed my hair "soft black" (I pick the correct box only because I recognize the model), trimmed my hair, and cleaned up my eyebrows. I'd already painted my nails, so I felt pretty good.

When I found out what was happening, I decided to take the time to shower, brush my hair, put on makeup, and put on regular clothes. I think this helped me--I sort of looked brave.

So in spite of everything, I think I restored my courage and renewed my confidence in that courage. I made connections with family. I restored my sense of beauty--I love Snow White hair!

Despite the fear, nausea, and confusion, I did experience some restoration.

Restoration: Week 18.

This past week, I finished a book with my spring YA focus. I read poetry and scripture. Still, I didn't read as much as I'd hoped. That's a challenge to tackle this coming week, restoring my reading.

Bruce took me to see a movie that was inappropriate for most audiences but hilarious. Laughter and popcorn do a lot to restore our friendship.

We also went to see Waitress, our final show of the season. Despite some sad subject matter, it mostly felt bright and happy. Theatre has also restored and refreshed our relationship, as did all the singing in the car.

I only worked out once this week, so I need to restore that habit. My body needs some serious restoration.

I finished a journal! That makes me feel as if the title of writer is restored to me.

I don't think I've developed much as a wife and mother this past week, but I will work on that. Sunday, we three managed to spend a quiet afternoon and evening together. That was restorative.

Restoration: Week 10.

This past weekend, we visited my family. I needed some Mama attention, and it was restorative. I also got to talk and laugh with my brother and restore connections with my other family members.

Mom and I went to see A Wrinkle in Time. The costumes, makeup, and acting restored my sense of wonder. Calvin inspired me especially: broken but so willing to take risks, embrace adventure, and soak up beauty.

I finished two books this past week. I'm still ahead on my goal!

In the Bible, I'm reading about Joshua. God's encouragement to Joshua caught my attention when I was a child, and the words restore my courage now.

As my therapist observed, I'm still "floating" because of my Phantom experience. I'm so grateful that it happened. I feel so extra-blessed. And everyone has been happy for me about it, and that restores those connections.

I cherish my restoration as a reader, and I pray nothing will take that from me.

Restoration: Week 1.

This past week, I've moved toward restoration. Bruce asked me how I was honoring restoration; I like that wording.

• Faith. I read the first week of The Daily Bible, working toward restoring and building up my faith. I'd forgotten how rough early Genesis was. Josh is reading it too, so many that will help restore and refresh our relationship.
• Marriage. Josh and I also worked on restoring our relationship by working on his schedule and finding some time alone for us on Friday mornings. We had Tuesday mornings last semester, and we often napped together, but that restored us too.
• Reading. I didn't finish a book yet, and I need to finish a book each week to reach my annual goal of 50 books. But I read from several books, keeping up pretty well with the Bible and poetry. I've been checking my shelves for children's books since that's my focus for winter. One evening, I sat still and read for over an hour. I've been getting into the flow with it, perhaps for the first time in months.
• Sleep. I know sleep does heal the body and the brain, so I'm trying to make sure I sleep enough.
• Motherhood. I had Oliver at home much more than I expected because of snow and ice. He allowed and even sought a lot of cuddling. That gives me a rush of motherly love. I need to tune into that more; it's a reset button.
• Musical theatre. Bruce and I saw On Your Feet in Durham. It energized me, and I've been singing Gloria Estefan songs every since. At the theatre, I feel closer to my real self.

What I'm Looking Forward To.

• More daylight for walks
• Enough daylight to walk to Bruce's for our walks
• Falling asleep tonight
• The Beauty and the Beast movie--2017!
• Each day's mail--who knows?
• Cabaret on Saturday
• Two shows in May!
• Going to TGI Fridays with Bruce again
• Going to the Blue Moon Cafe again with Mom for more brie and honey creations
• Mom's next visit
• Writing another story
• Drinking Sprite
• Wearing a pretty dress to the theatre
• Having some alone time with Josh
• Listening to my iPod in the car
• The next hug from Oliver
• Hearing about Mom's cruise
• Oliver's feeling better
• Seeing my brother
• Getting the Oliver and Company T-shirt Dad ordered for me. We're definitely the & co.!
• Seeing my best girls eventually
• Holding my first babies in heaven

How I Want to Travel.

I recently had the great idea that Mom and I should go to Paris someday--just us. She would be braver and more informed than I. We could skip this and spend forever on that. I wish Paris trips were not limited.

I got to see Phantom twice in one year! Shows can feel a lot like traveling.

I used to be kind of obsessed with the idea of time travel.

I'd like to do a road trip of sorts...focused on bookstores (chain and independent) and aquariums. I would buy at least one book in each state, and I would scribble or even write stories in each aquarium. I don't know who would want to join that. But maybe Josh would. Maybe we'll feel more like active best friends again when Oliver goes to college (or not). That's a long way off, but it kind of doesn't feel that way.

I used to enjoy packing. I loved selecting what I'd have with me on a plane or in a hotel room. Even when I was quite young, I had to have a notebook. That's still true.

Week of Planting Wonders.

Image: http://aberforths-goats.tumblr.com/post/24328371099

 I took a long time to learn that joy and contentment come from details and moments. Many people say so, but learning it isn't as easy as reading or hearing it. I took even longer learning that this is not just about noticing those details and moments but also about seeking them, creating them, sewing them into life.

Almost ten days of summer have passed. I think I've used them well. Last weekend, we went to a park (one of my goals!). We brought egg salad sandwiches, dill pickle halves, and pretzels for a picnic. We kicked sharp little pine cones out of the way and spread a blanket between trees. Oliver noticed that we were doing something different. He lunged for a handful of pine needles to put in his mouth. I let him gum a pickle instead. Josh blew bubbles. Couples with strollers passed. Men played tennis behind us.

We put the stroller to the test and started on the nature trail. I expected this to be a short dirt path, but we probably walked for an hour. I used most of the muscles in my body to push the stroller on gravel, bumps, and dirt. We pushed into a moist cover of trees like a mild rain forest. Plaques identified ferns, vines, and unearthed tar kilns. Josh climbed up to peer over the charred black rims of the kilns. I was fascinated to learn that highway departments (whatever that's called) have their own archeology teams. The idea of archeology itself is fascinating, like time traveling through objects. But I like to do it through reading diaries and seeing those bits of daily life at once foreign and familiar.

Anyway, the stroller glided over smooth wood bridges. I ran a little when Oliver got restless. We passed one or two runners, a group of paired teenagers holding hands, and an adult couple leaning on the rails of a bridge. We came out of the shade to the quiet end of a long bridge, and we looked down at a red-tinted creek. The busy silence seemed to slow my heart. I smelled wet dirt and wet rocks, tranquil.

We emerged at a second playground. One of the baby swings was open, and I held Oliver in it so he could swing. His feet went crazy as if he had to tread the air to stay suspended.

We've spent some time on the balcony. Josh saw a female duck sitting at an odd angle in the rain. "Look!" he called, and we watched as, one by one, seven tiny ducklings popped out from under their mother's wings.

"This is a good place," I've said.

I finished reading Little Lord Fauntleroy and read A Wrinkle in Time to the boys. I've finished my fun Francophile book, Bonjour, Happiness, and read Katie Ward's Girl Reading (the last chapter, particularly, will drip and swirl through my mind). Josh has read Signing Their Lives Away, a book about the men who signed the declaration, and poetry books by e. e. cummings and Joseph Bathanti.

I've worked at the library, spending two hours planning and building course work on a desktop, breaking to wander the stacks for a minute, and then sitting in the teen section to grade for two more hours. Walking home takes a few minutes. One day, Josh picked up Panera and was returning home just as I was. He called out to me, "Hey, girl, I've got Panera and a baby. Want a ride?"

Josh has made pasta salad with mozzerella and sliced cucumber. I've eaten lemon pepper rotisserie chicken with brown rice and green beans or Triscuits and string cheese, chicken and broccoli with crab rangoons from the cheap Chinese restaurant in the shopping center past the library. Last night, I worked late on the science fiction course proposal, and Josh brought me a bowl with orange slices, walnuts, and semisweet chocolate chips. When I was dizzy earlier in the evening, he lit a woodsy candle and played soft music.

I accidentally opened a birthday present when it came in the mail. I felt guilty, but Josh just said I could have it early. So yesterday, we watched Love Never Dies on DVD. It isn't Phantom, of course, but I love the sets and costumes and hints of rock opera. I liked being able to see the sheen on indigo gloves, the swirled embroidery on a black coat, the swing of long earrings, the ink splatters on a sheet of music, the microphones buried in hairlines. Josh, always watching for an opportunity to make a sassy comment, said, "Remember when I arrived suddenly, and you were shocked like Christine?" He paused. "No. You were like the phantom." That echoed a thought I've had for a while: I have been drawn to the idea of Erik since I was eight years old, and I assumed I must be like Christine. But really, I'm more like Erik. Still, I fully expect that when Oliver is older, he and Josh will sing "The Beauty Underneath" for me.

These connections to my old and deep loves build and repair. Musical theater was like protein to me, and it still is when I pause for it. One of my dear childhood memories is of my mother reading A Wrinkle in Time to me even though I was old enough to read it myself. Though that was probably sixteen or seventeen years ago, Charles Wallace, the milk for cocoa on the stove, Mrs. Whatsit with her scarves, and the man with the red eyes were still like photo albums I made at ten or eleven and reopened when I read at twenty-six. I smiled at the thought that I've now read the book to my own child, and I've shared it with my companion.

Aunt Beast, with her singing, washing, feeding, and soothing a fearful and angry Meg, made me relax. I would feel silly telling Josh that he is my Aunt Beast, but he is.  He calms my fevers of anxiety, grief, and sullenness. But he also waits and lets me fuss while I come around to what I know I need to do.

I've made some progress in my current journal, one from the Christmas stocking my mother gave me. It's purple, green, blue, and gold with peacocks. Every page is full color and has tiny lines. I have sticky notes with my summer to do list on the feathered end pages. I have a letter in a purple envelope to mail today. It has a red stamp with Love in white twisted ribbon script.

The pools have been closed, but we've walked. We've lingered by the pond, and we're scratching our bug bites now. We've gone to Ulta, and I've come out with only colors in my head and shimmered smudges on my fingertips. We've been to Cold Stone Creamery, where Josh ate vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup and funnel cake pieces, and I ate vanilla with chocolate chips and walnuts and pondered the ice cream cupcakes.

Josh rearranged our bedroom last night, moving the bed under the window, moving our wedding cake dresser and my fragile black desk to the open wall where we can actually use them easily. I think we will be able to bring in one or two new bookcases. I'll let my journals out of their crammed, horizontal double stacks.

I feel myself unfurling.

Image: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/jenndalynphoto