The Sunday Choice

Work. Grocery shopping. School supplies. Giving the girls a few more opportunities to make summer memories. Conference call. Edits on content. Get to the gym. Transfer money to the bank. 

I lay in bed and the thoughts overwhelm me. One after another pops into my head, creating layer upon layer of to-do action items. Layers of anxiety. Layers of things I have to do. 

It's Sunday night, and tomorrow is the first day back to school for Hubby. Chica has one more week before she has to board the bus for her First Day of School, but since Hubby is a teacher, he has a week of inservice. And despite having one more week with the girls, it feels like the unofficial end of summer the day he goes back. It's when everything changes and we begin to settle into our School Year Routine.  And right on cue, The Sunday Night Thoughts come raging back.

Sunday evenings are spent in anticipation of the week to come. It's like being at a race and suddenly your prepping on the starting line, heart racing for the starting gun to go off. Some weeks, I'm set well and start strong. Other weeks I fumble over my shoelace and face plant the moment I'm told to "go."

So, as much as I try to prep and fight it, I spend many Sunday nights laying in bed inundated with various work projects on tap for the week, the errands I have to run, the meals I need to cook. But minds are funny things. And inevitably my rushing thoughts become more deeper, more provoking. Thoughts about heading to the store for school supplies sparks a wondering if my girls had a good summer. Did we do enough? Did we eat enough popsicles? Did we make enough memories? I make a mental note to consider hitting the beach one more time, if our schedule allows.

I start going through my grocery list, making sure not to forget that we need hand soap. And I find myself feeling bored with the current rotation of recipes. Are my meals interesting enough? Healthy enough? Is it bad that Chica eats waffles for breakfast every morning? Am I eating healthy enough? I promise myself not to buy junk food this week and make a commitments snack less after the girls go to bed (a struggle I've been having). 

The word struggle reminds me of the frustration faced earlier in the evening at bed time. My patience has been thin with night time requests. Just go to bed! is so often my refrain. I'm reminded of how often I'm short with the girls, how often I raise my voice. I watched that damn Quaker Oats video a few minutes ago and was bawling. The days are long, the years are short, I chide myself. My kids just want time with me. And I have a haunting fear I don't give them enough of myself.

Suddenly, my mental to-do list becomes a progressively weightier guilt pressing on my shoulders: Am I efficient enough? Am I healthy enough? Am I connecting with my friends enough? Am I keeping up with work enough? Am I parenting well enough? 

Am I enough enough?

No wonder we dread Mondays.  

I go to sleep defeated before I even start my week. As I lay there allowing my seeming inefficiencies to take over, a small, confident voice clearly rings:

Tomorrow is a new day.

It's my own voice, a stronger part of myself declaring reason amidst the muck. Tomorrow is a new day. It's a fresh start. No matter how full my to-do list is, I have a new week to accomplish it all. Despite how defeated I'm feeling on so many fronts, I have a blank slate on which to try again. I will wake up tomorrow with a new opportunity to parent differently, to be a better friend And yes, even to get to the gym (oy!). 

For the first time, I decided that instead of looking toward the new week with dread, I could embrace the opportunity for new beginnings and fresh starts.

We have a choice, friends. Every week. Really, every day: to dread or embrace. To be overcome or to OVERCOME. 

I choose to conquer this week. 

And if I fail?

Tomorrow is a new day.

Choose to OVERCOME this week.

Things That Make Me: Anxious

We all have different things that make us anxious. And I bet there are a few lucky people who are so laid back (like, The Dude, for instance) that never get anxious at all. I'm an Anxious Annie (yeah, I just made that up). So I thought it'd be interesting to share a few of my top anxiety-causers, and see how they rated with everyone else's.

Without further ado...

1. Stinkbugs.

2. Having a time constraint or having to get somewhere on time.

3. Being late.

4. Watching other people have pranks pulled on them.

5. Pulling pranks.

6. Change.

7.  Ropes Courses.

8.  Vomit and/or the Stomach Bug.

9. Not being able to fall asleep.

10.  Watching sex scenes from movies with other people in the room.



What about you? 

What would be on YOUR "Things That Make Me Anxious" list?

Leave a comment and we'll compare. Or we can just agree I'm anxious over the most ridiculous stuff.

Stay tuned - next week we'll work through a different emotional list.  

Happy Friday!

Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder

No, you won't find Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder in the DSM-IV-TR.  


But I'm coining the phrase.


The coming of beautiful weather, warmer temperatures, longer days (not to mention the opening of Rita's across the nation), makes everyone swoon.  Moods lift, smiles linger, kids frolic and there is a general feeling of ease and happiness permeating every household.


Except mine.

I Dream About Tornados

I dream about tornados.

I mean, I dream about other things too.  Some of which I forget before I even wake up.  But since my childhood, I've had recurring dreams.  They are not always the same exact dream, but they revolve around the same theme.


In one of the recurring-themed dreams, I am walking in a familiar place, when I am suddenly face to face with a giant wild animal. And I don't mean like a stray cat. I mean a large grizzly bear or a lion. This animal is there, larger than life, totally free from restraint. I am completely taken off guard every time. But it's dangerous and there is no where that is safe to flee to or hide.


It's unnerving.


In another recurring dream, I am back in high school.  I am walking the halls, and it suddenly occurs to me that I've missed one of my classes all year long.  Like, I just completely forgot to go to it.  The class is usually math, as it was my worst subject in high school.  But this feeling of panic and dread washes over me as I realize I am completely going to fail this class.  Immediately after that thought is the second realization that I have no idea 1) where my classroom is and 2) how to get to it.  I head to the main office, where I explain I don't know my schedule and I need to find my class.  They tell me generally where the classroom is, and I rush out to find out.  The walls and halls begin to look less familiar, and I become lost.  The dream usually starts to unravel at this point, as I cannot remember where any of my classes are. 


Some of my most memorable recurring dreams involve tornados.  We've established on this blog that I was a bit of a geek when I was a kid.  Maybe a lot of a geek: Rock collections. Complete lack of anything resembling athletic ability. Bad haircut. No fashion sense. Always had my nose in a book. And I loved science.  LOVED science. I still do.  And one of my favorite general areas of science has always been Earth and Space science, particularly weather.


So, every week when our class had library time, I would spend the 30 minutes pulling every weather-related book I could find and pouring over the literature.  If I could find books with fantastic pictures of destructive weather phenomenon (hurricanes, tornados, etc), even better. The pictures struck me with a sense of fear and awe. I was amazed that something as simple as cotton ball clouds had the ability to become ferocious and fatal.  I was enamored with the beauty nature could create: the slender and graceful tower of spinning clouds; the purple, blue and green skys; the unique shapes; the solemn dance of lightening. 


It was magical.  And completely frightening.  But magical all the same.


But it is never magical when I dream about tornados.


I think I've narrowed down that I dream about tornados when I am stressed or feeling chased and cornered by life circumstances. I guess most of those stressful dreams happen when I am feeling lost, overwhelmed or scared by life.  But the tornado dreams happen most often and are the most prominent in my mind.  They are vivid, and the dream always starts ominously. Just like in the movies (as I've never actually experienced a tornado in real life), my dream is eerily quiet and strangely devoid of people, as though everyone got a memo about getting the heck out of Dodge and I did not.  I sense there is something about to happen, that something is coming, but I do not know what.


The colors stand out to me, even now thinking back on the dreams.  The sky is always a sickening shade of green or blue, like a bruise.  The clouds are bulbous and bloated.  And the air is still. Silent.  Sometimes I am in my house, completely distracted with a chore or a task when I realize that something is wrong.  Other times I am out and about, perhaps driving or walking.  


And then I see it.  A thin funnel in the distance.  The realization of what I am looking at takes a moment to sink in.  But quickly panic washes over me. I am in danger. I am alone.  


And I have no idea what I am supposed to do.


If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is being out of control.  Out of control of my life. My circumstances. My schedule. My emotions.  I struggle with it. I am aware of it. But as with all weaknesses, it is an uphill battle to overcome.  I see how this attribute affects me in many areas of my life: my parenting, my marriage, my relationships, my own sense of peace (or, rather, anxiety).  I wish I was one of those people who was laid-back, easy-going and flexible. I desperately want to be that person.  I try to be that person.  But, like I said. 


Uphill battle. 


We visited my Dad and stepmother a few weeks ago.  We were dealing with a central air conditioner that broke the day before we were supposed to leave (in a heatwave, nonetheless), so we ended up having to stay at my moms before we left.  Over the course of 5 days, I was completely out of my comfort zone: having the kids sleeping in unfamiliar places, schedules completely thrown off, fighting with our HVAC company while being out of town.  Many people can say, C'est la vie, and go with the flow.


Not me.

No, I start to seize up and panic and lose ability to function.  I imagine worst-case scenarios: the children won't sleep well [which happened], the children will wake each other up because of paper thin walls [which happened], the kids will wake up early and schedules are thrown to the wind [which happened], kids will melt down a bit from being overstimulated and overtired [which happened], the air conditioner doesn't get fixed right away [which happened].

Those things all happened.  And did we survive? Yes. Are we ok? Yes. Did life go on? Yes.

But I despise it just the same. Amidst the not-so-relaxing vacation, we were also pummeled by several unexpected expenses and bills that were completely out of our control. It feels a bit like we are drowning, and I just want to throw my hands up, look to the sky and demand, "SERIOUSLY?!"

Will life go on? Yes.  Will we be ok? Most likely.  Will we survive? 

I hope so.

You'd think by now I would learn how to cope with life, with the unexpected, with difficulty.  I've had my share of hard stuff to deal with in my life.  And I deal, but not quite the way I wish I did. Because life is hard.  And much like my dreams, we are taken off guard and given no place to turn and hide.  

I have a long way to go until I am the parent who handles all situations with ease, the wife who can go with the flow, the girl who manages her relationships competently, the woman who does not look at life as one big predictable schedule.

But I am working on it. 

And until then, I will most likely continue to dream about tornados.