I admit that I'm facing a bit of writer's block right now and I have somewhere to be shortly. So, I thought I would still try to maintain my new blogging schedule (Mondays just don't work at all for me any more and I have no good reason for it) by pulling from my long-overdue collection of Squirrel of the Moment candidates. Sitting on deck, ready to step up to the plate is ... Squirrel Scouts from Disney's Emperor's New Groove (2000) and it's sequel, Kronk's New Groove (2005).
So, what is so fantastic about Squirrel Scouts? Well, there is the moderate pun (Squirrel Scouts/Girl Scouts), but I'll admit I didn't really think about it until now. To refresh your memory, Emperor Kuzco and Pacha ran into a cute squirrel on their way back to the palace to try to turn Kuzco back into a human from a llama. Kuzco was not too nice to Bucky the squirrel. Karma comes around and Bucky pays back the emperor in a den of jaguars. That's not the end of Bucky's screen time. In their pursuit of Kuzco, Yzma and Kronk come across poor Bucky after his mistreatment at the hands of the emperor. Yzma is about to make a similar mistake when Kronk steps in, revealing that he speaks squirrel. Guess where he learned that? Yep, in the Squirrel Scouts! So, the Squirrel Scouts can teach you to not only treat animals well, but also how to communicate with them. If animated movies have taught us anything, it's that you never know when you need information or assistance from a non-human speaking animal. At the end of the film, Pacha's children have joined the Squirrel Scouts under the tutelage of Kronk and learn the ways of the jungle from Bucky himself.
Bucky and the Squirrel Scouts reappear in Kronk's New Groove, helping Kronk find the definition of true happiness. What is said definition anyway? It's having friends, doing what you really like, and being true to yourself rather than trying to impress someone who will probably never accept you for yourself anyway because you're not exactly like them.
So, Squirrel Scouts teach us to be kind to others, help out when we can, listen to the little guy, and be true to ourselves. Plus, well, they get to hang out with squirrels.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Joys of Insomnia (with a Sprinkle of Sleep Apnea)
A long time ago the Bear Naked Ladies released a song about the pleasures of insomnia. I actually used to pray for insomnia, especially toward midterms and finals so that I could have the time I needed to finish my grades and return the papers to my students. It's funny how prayers are rarely answered when you expect them to be or when you think you need them.
I originally thought I had a mild case of hypersomnia because I would find myself uncontrollably falling asleep in the middle of the day. This was especially worrisome when I was driving, which happened too often for my own comfort, unfortunately. Sadly, no doctor would believe me or listen to my story. They all just assumed that I obese and therefore suffering from [my words here] a sugar coma due to diabetes. Surprise, surprise, I never had glucose levels that indicated diabetes. True, I may have come close, but no one could ever diagnose me with it. You see, I'm probably one of the healthiest overweight women in the country. Despite my excess size, I have good numbers in all the areas you'd expect an obese person to suffer--cholesterol, blood pressure, excellent heart, decent sugars. No one could ever find anything really wrong--close, but not off the charts--in my blood work. The only true diagnoses I got were asthma (only because I kept telling them, no one actually tested me for it after I was 8 years old) and allergies. Neither of these are known to cause significant fatigue issues.
Finally, after years of not knowing why I sometimes had unexplainable weakness in one or both of my arms or why my mind could be awake but my eyes insisted on spontaneously closing and staying that way for a long while, my doctor ordered a sleep study. I'm sure there are many more invasive medical procedures out there. However, I find it incredibly ironic that they expect to study your sleep patterns with a) only 1 night of observation and b) you being hooked up to dozens of wires that prevent you from sleeping in your natural positions. My doctor sat on the first sleep study for over a year and the clinic that performed it shut down for some unknown reason. It wasn't until an ear-nose-throat physician ordered another one that I would find something close to an answer. And I went to that doctor because of an ear infection that wouldn't go away after 3 weeks despite various treatments. My regular doctor sent me to the ENT because they wanted to take out my tonsils. The ENT ordered the sleep study after putting together a lot of the other pieces, including my frequent spontaneous naps.
So, another uncomfortable night later, I got a diagnosis: sleep apnea. Yes, ladies and gents, the sleep disorder most commonly associated with snoring is apparently part of the puzzle for my lack of energy. With sleep apnea, you may think you get a full night's sleep, but your body actually wakes dozens, sometimes hundreds, of times during the night. You are only semi-conscious and so gosh darn tired that you are not fully aware of the constant waking. And why do you wake so often? Hmm, it could be because your respiratory system has a major malfunction so the only way your brain can think to get you to actually get some oxygen is to wake you fully to kick-start the lungs. By the way, not everyone with sleep apnea snores like a chainsaw all the time. I used to only snore noticeably when I was congested from allergies or a cold, thanks to my asthma. Now that I have a diagnosis, wouldn't you know it, I can hear myself snoring more often.
Wait, this blog has insomnia in the title. What's with all the sleep apnea talk? The sleep apnea was the only clear-cut medical diagnosis I received. At the time of the sleep study I was getting a full-night of sleep, sort of, fully waking to my alarm each morning and rarely before then. If you've read the last few posts of my blog, then you'll know that things in my life started to pile up and stress levels magnified. I started having nights in which I woke too early--1 am, 2 am, 3 am--and found it hard to get my brain to shut down long enough to finish my sleep cycles. This didn't happen too often. Even as a kid I had trouble sleeping the night before a trip, probably because of the anticipation. When I had problems sleeping during grade-reporting times, I chalked it up to stress. Temporary insomnia goes hand-in-hand with excessive stress and anxiety levels, after all. Besides, I didn't get a diagnosis of clinical insomnia with my sleep studies, just sleep apnea. Also, a diagnosis only occurs when you experience the symptoms of insomnia--can't get to sleep, trouble staying asleep, waking too early or too often--consistently (as in daily) for six weeks. I originally had a bout of sleep problems sprinkled here and there. It started to become more consistent during and after our move.
I found myself not able to sleep, or keeping very odd hours for me; I used to be like a clock in my "old life", always waking within an hour of the same time, even on weekends, and always going to bed within an hour of the same time frame. After my daughter went to visit her dad I found that I had consistent problems getting to bed when I wanted to and I was waking after only an hour or two of sleep, regardless of when I fell asleep in the first place. Sure I was taking naps in the middle of the day, but that's not an exclusion for insomnia. Our bodies want sleep even if they're not going to give it to us on a schedule. So, for the last 4 weeks, I have yet to have a single night in which I sleep for 4 or more hours without achieving full consciousness. I admit that I am a little peeved about the whole thing. The saving grace is that I don't currently have employment--I pray every day for a job, and I apply to countless jobs every single day, but still no bits--so I don't have to worry about falling asleep on the job. However, insomnia is not healthy. The body needs its sleep for basic maintenance and dreams are essential for mental health.
Hold on! This blog in general is supposed to be about the bright side. Where is it? Remember at the beginning, where I told you that I used to pray for insomnia? I knew about the bright side from the start. Even this past month, after I toss and turn, trying to force my mind to enter maintenance mode so I can get more rest, I am wise enough to give up and get up and try to do something. Sometimes I play a mindless computer game and that helps. Sometimes I sift through my copious amounts of email. I occasionally take the opportunity to catch up on my reading or, in the desperate hours when it looks like sleep is gone for the night/morning, I try my hand at the limitless chores that abound when you are the sole adult responsible for the welfare of a child. So, yeah, I've found a way to make use of my insomnia. The only time I'm cranky from lack of sleep is when I fight the insomnia. When I give in and use the time for something more productive, then I find I actually have enough energy to make it through my day. At least, that is, until I take a nap.
I originally thought I had a mild case of hypersomnia because I would find myself uncontrollably falling asleep in the middle of the day. This was especially worrisome when I was driving, which happened too often for my own comfort, unfortunately. Sadly, no doctor would believe me or listen to my story. They all just assumed that I obese and therefore suffering from [my words here] a sugar coma due to diabetes. Surprise, surprise, I never had glucose levels that indicated diabetes. True, I may have come close, but no one could ever diagnose me with it. You see, I'm probably one of the healthiest overweight women in the country. Despite my excess size, I have good numbers in all the areas you'd expect an obese person to suffer--cholesterol, blood pressure, excellent heart, decent sugars. No one could ever find anything really wrong--close, but not off the charts--in my blood work. The only true diagnoses I got were asthma (only because I kept telling them, no one actually tested me for it after I was 8 years old) and allergies. Neither of these are known to cause significant fatigue issues.
Finally, after years of not knowing why I sometimes had unexplainable weakness in one or both of my arms or why my mind could be awake but my eyes insisted on spontaneously closing and staying that way for a long while, my doctor ordered a sleep study. I'm sure there are many more invasive medical procedures out there. However, I find it incredibly ironic that they expect to study your sleep patterns with a) only 1 night of observation and b) you being hooked up to dozens of wires that prevent you from sleeping in your natural positions. My doctor sat on the first sleep study for over a year and the clinic that performed it shut down for some unknown reason. It wasn't until an ear-nose-throat physician ordered another one that I would find something close to an answer. And I went to that doctor because of an ear infection that wouldn't go away after 3 weeks despite various treatments. My regular doctor sent me to the ENT because they wanted to take out my tonsils. The ENT ordered the sleep study after putting together a lot of the other pieces, including my frequent spontaneous naps.
So, another uncomfortable night later, I got a diagnosis: sleep apnea. Yes, ladies and gents, the sleep disorder most commonly associated with snoring is apparently part of the puzzle for my lack of energy. With sleep apnea, you may think you get a full night's sleep, but your body actually wakes dozens, sometimes hundreds, of times during the night. You are only semi-conscious and so gosh darn tired that you are not fully aware of the constant waking. And why do you wake so often? Hmm, it could be because your respiratory system has a major malfunction so the only way your brain can think to get you to actually get some oxygen is to wake you fully to kick-start the lungs. By the way, not everyone with sleep apnea snores like a chainsaw all the time. I used to only snore noticeably when I was congested from allergies or a cold, thanks to my asthma. Now that I have a diagnosis, wouldn't you know it, I can hear myself snoring more often.
Wait, this blog has insomnia in the title. What's with all the sleep apnea talk? The sleep apnea was the only clear-cut medical diagnosis I received. At the time of the sleep study I was getting a full-night of sleep, sort of, fully waking to my alarm each morning and rarely before then. If you've read the last few posts of my blog, then you'll know that things in my life started to pile up and stress levels magnified. I started having nights in which I woke too early--1 am, 2 am, 3 am--and found it hard to get my brain to shut down long enough to finish my sleep cycles. This didn't happen too often. Even as a kid I had trouble sleeping the night before a trip, probably because of the anticipation. When I had problems sleeping during grade-reporting times, I chalked it up to stress. Temporary insomnia goes hand-in-hand with excessive stress and anxiety levels, after all. Besides, I didn't get a diagnosis of clinical insomnia with my sleep studies, just sleep apnea. Also, a diagnosis only occurs when you experience the symptoms of insomnia--can't get to sleep, trouble staying asleep, waking too early or too often--consistently (as in daily) for six weeks. I originally had a bout of sleep problems sprinkled here and there. It started to become more consistent during and after our move.
I found myself not able to sleep, or keeping very odd hours for me; I used to be like a clock in my "old life", always waking within an hour of the same time, even on weekends, and always going to bed within an hour of the same time frame. After my daughter went to visit her dad I found that I had consistent problems getting to bed when I wanted to and I was waking after only an hour or two of sleep, regardless of when I fell asleep in the first place. Sure I was taking naps in the middle of the day, but that's not an exclusion for insomnia. Our bodies want sleep even if they're not going to give it to us on a schedule. So, for the last 4 weeks, I have yet to have a single night in which I sleep for 4 or more hours without achieving full consciousness. I admit that I am a little peeved about the whole thing. The saving grace is that I don't currently have employment--I pray every day for a job, and I apply to countless jobs every single day, but still no bits--so I don't have to worry about falling asleep on the job. However, insomnia is not healthy. The body needs its sleep for basic maintenance and dreams are essential for mental health.
Hold on! This blog in general is supposed to be about the bright side. Where is it? Remember at the beginning, where I told you that I used to pray for insomnia? I knew about the bright side from the start. Even this past month, after I toss and turn, trying to force my mind to enter maintenance mode so I can get more rest, I am wise enough to give up and get up and try to do something. Sometimes I play a mindless computer game and that helps. Sometimes I sift through my copious amounts of email. I occasionally take the opportunity to catch up on my reading or, in the desperate hours when it looks like sleep is gone for the night/morning, I try my hand at the limitless chores that abound when you are the sole adult responsible for the welfare of a child. So, yeah, I've found a way to make use of my insomnia. The only time I'm cranky from lack of sleep is when I fight the insomnia. When I give in and use the time for something more productive, then I find I actually have enough energy to make it through my day. At least, that is, until I take a nap.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
A Little Giraffe Makes a Big Difference
This is Jerry. He is a stuffed giraffe. He doesn't normally wear a hat, but he (okay, I) was feeling whimsical that day. I bought Jerry on a whim in the midst of the emotional storm that started out 2014, things that I've mentioned on previous blog posts this summer. He seemed to be just the right size for hugs, something that I desperately needed when I was kicked out of my marriage bed and made to sleep alone after 12+ years of sharing a bed with that person. Honestly, that was the only motivation behind buying Jerry. It was early February, so he has a heart pattern on his left hind leg--you can almost see it in the picture. Because he's not a teddy bear or a frog (I guess it's the whole "Frog Prince" thing), he's not really a "Valentine's Day" animal. That was the reason I chose him over the other standard V-Day animals available. He just seemed to stand out and he was the only giraffe.
Unfortunately, Jerry came home on a bad night. I was trying to be nice by giving that 'male who used to share my marriage bed' time with his paramour (I was trying to be open-minded and accommodating). It was a Monday, a school night. I kept my daughter out an hour past her bed time. We got home and she was still there. I blew up in a way that I never have before because I was livid that their inconsideration was interfering with my daughter's health, sleep patterns, and education. My daughter saw my face and I quietly told her to go to her room. She shut her door and climbed into her bed, clutching Jerry tightly, afraid of what might happen as I unleashed my Momma Bear wrath--and I was holding back, too, otherwise I might have done some physical damage to certain individuals. I'm not happy that my daughter was afraid of me. She now understands that my anger is incurred when I feel someone or something poses a threat to her and that I don't get angry with her.
Jerry proved to be just the right size for the hugs I needed. It can actually be quite uncomfortable for me to sleep on my side without something to hold on to (i.e. hug) because everything gets all squished together. Hugs have also been proven (you can find the research, I'm not going to do the work for you right now) to have psychological benefits, even if the hug comes from an inanimate object. There are times when my daughter snags Jerry from me because he really is the perfect hug generator. I originally got upset and jealous, but then something magical seemed to happen. As "the fit hit the shan" and stressor after stressor piled up in our lives, as we encountered all of the changes that result from divorce and moving--new job, unemployment and job hunting, new school, new church, new home city, leaving behind our community and friends--Jerry started to become much more than a random stuffed giraffe that was purchased on a whim. My daughter infused him with a childlike personality that just makes both of us smile. It's hard to look at Jerry now without thinking of his simple wonder and joy. Apparently, he thinks shoes are cars, "saying" vroom, vroom as he tries to push them around the floor (with my daughter's help, of course). He also seems to think cell phones are brownies and likes to "nom, nom" on just about anything. My daughter claims that he likes pie. He is a self-proclaimed "huggle monster" and a master hugger. Any time he falls on the floor during the night he is exploring. He likes to go on adventures, but doesn't get out much because he's a little big for a purse, so he has many adventures at home. Sometimes Jerry gets to go out; he's gone to the movies and Chuck E. Cheese's and he got to ride in a washing machine and dryer. His best friend is the stuffed Oswald the Luck Rabbit we found at a Disney outlet store. If you follow me on Twitter [@eowyn35], then you've seen some of Oswald's adventures at Disney World. Jerry isn't jealous of Oswald because they both "share" their adventures with each other.
Jerry doesn't "bring home the bacon" and he is not able to do much in reality without our imagination and assistance. However, I'm much happier with him in our lives. His personality keeps us light-hearted so that we always keep in touch with innocent wonder. I am not deprived of hugs even when my human interaction is lacking. It's also hard to maintain any kind of negative feelings with him around. Just look at that face. Wouldn't you have a hard time smiling, at least on the inside?
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Disney World Annual Pass--Best Workout Investment Ever
Even for people living from paycheck to paycheck, even for someone whose budget is so tight it occasionally not even an atom can slip through sometimes, there comes a time to indulge. For some people the indulgence is very modest and simple: a night at the movies, dinner at a real restaurant, a new article of clothing you've had your eye on for a while. For me, the biggest indulgence I made this year, when my life was thrown upside down and twisted inside out and I found myself emptying what little I had in my savings account just to buy groceries (I'm not counting the bed I bought because I don't believe anyone deserves to sleep on the floor), were the two Florida Resident annual passes I bought for myself and my daughter. Before you judge me, which you have no right nor not enough data to do so, I used my tax return to make the purchase. I had just enough, coupled with the credit card that I carefully worked hard to pay down, to pay for a short 4-day vacation for my daughter and I during her spring break this year. I upgraded our 3-day passes to the annual pass and I've never been happier.
After signing the divorce papers, essentially gaining my freedom for little-to-nothing in return, but still being chained to a man who never really loved me because he suddenly decided that he might want to get to know his now 12-year-old daughter through forced joint parental sharing (Florida does not use the term "custody" for some reason), I thought I might be on my way because I received a job offer in Orlando. Unfortunately, that turned out to be false advertising with a capital F; I was adamantly told the job was "training" and "marketing" when it turned out to be commission-based sales. Call a spade a spade. Painting it and splashing perfume on it is not going to change the fact that it's used to dig up the soil. So, after moving (and all the cost and personal investment that it entails), the company let me go in my second week. I'm not nearly as upset as people would expect. Let's just say that I tried to drink the Koolaid but found myself immune. But, that still leaves me in a city with no family or friends nearby and no income at the moment.
So, where does the Disney annual pass come into play? It has actually helped me keep my sanity and kept me from slipping too much further into depression. Because it is already paid for, I don't have to worry or feel guilty about driving down (roughly 30 minutes away from my apartment) to one of the parks to spend the day with my daughter. Parking is free, after all, with an annual pass and there is a discount for most non-food purchases.
Okay, I could probably pinch even more pennies by saving gas and staying home, or even driving to the local library since it is closer. That won't help as much, though. Taking my daughter to Disney once a week gives us time to really spend with each other. We don't have as many distractions and we're not as likely to do our own thing. Yes, I take some time out for myself while she rides one or two rides by herself, but this (for me) is more about giving her some independence than about me "getting a break" from my child. Honestly, I always feel insulted when someone implies that I need a break from my daughter. I love her like no one else. She is my reason for living. I don't like extended time away from her. I'm barely holding it together right now while she's visiting her father, which I feel forced into accepting as part of the divorce. So, yes, until I get a job we do spend time "together" doing other things throughout the week like watching TV or finding local events at bookstores. But those always feel like something meant for only one of us.
I now truly understand Walt's vision in creating Disneyland. There's just something about going to a Disney theme park that makes me want to actually spend time doing things together with the people who joined me that day. This is also the only time that I don't think about complaining about being outdoors, even though I pay for it the next day. See, if someone were to suggest going to a park for a walk or playing a sport outdoors, I might agree to go, but deep down I would moan about my allergies kicking in, making me miserable. I completely forget about that when I'm walking around a Disney park. I easily walk more than 4 miles on any given Disney trip, but I don't even think about it unless I keep track of it. Well, I feel it the next day when it's harder to get out of bed because I'm a little stiff and/or sunburned. That's where the workout part of the title comes in, by the way.
When my daughter and I go to a park, we go for a full day. Sometimes that means right at park opening, sometimes a couple hours into it. We usually don't leave until after dinner time. If it's not a Saturday, then we might even stay until park close (Sunday is Mass and I don't like either of us falling asleep during the service). We walk around so much as we meander from attraction to show to ride to shop. We take our time to enjoy the sites. The cell phones, iPods, or Nooks don't come out unless we're sitting down and we're finished eating or the line for the ride is longer than 30 minutes. I almost never Tweet or post to Facebook from the parks any more, at least not when I'm with my daughter, because I want to form memories, not memorials. I carry a backpack full of extra shirts and lots of drinks, so that's weight-lifting and I put on and take off the back to access the items within. There may be stair climbing or hill walking along the way. I don't notice all the exercise my body is getting because I'm enjoying myself so much. With this particular body, the less it knows it's getting a workout, the more it actually works to keep the weight manageable.
And the best part is probably the pricing plan. I know, I'm crazy. Disney must cost way more than a gym membership! Actually, I priced it out. My Florida Resident annual pass is under $520 a year, or under $45 a month. A local gym membership averages $50 per month at the minimum, plus the down payment of about 2 months-worth that's due when you join. Some gyms cost much more than that. And, if I were to go to a gym even weekly, then I would have to deal with my social anxiety. I know "fat" people are the ones who are supposed to go to the gym, but I can't get away from the stereotype that it's only well-toned people who actually use them. You can try to rationalize with me all you want. I'm still not going to feel comfortable in my current skin size to go to a gym even if it would help. At Disney, however, I'm working out without anyone having a reason to gawk at the walking land whale as she waddles along because they're all enjoying their own memories. I'm much less self-conscious in the anonymity of a theme park crowd than I am in a workout situation. I pack the extra shirt and supplies to freshen up halfway through my day, too, to reduce possible embarrassment and to feel better--I really don't want to be the one who's body odor ruins the wait for the next attraction. Plus, I'm sure my daughter would quickly get bored with a gym, assuming I could find one that would sign up a minor. I don't think she will tire of walking around Disney all day.
For me, the indulgence in the Walt Disney World annual pass is well worth the money. I not only get a weekly workout--five miles is a lot for an asthmatic with a bad hip--but I also get real mother-daughter time with the person who matters the most to me. Even though times are tough being an unemployed single mother, even though I continue to send out dozens (if not scores) of job applications each week hoping that I finally get a bite, even though my savings account is quickly drying up, I will do my darnedest to scrape up the money to renew our annual passes in the spring if I can. Who knows, I might end up losing weight in the process, too. Now that would be an added bonus.
After signing the divorce papers, essentially gaining my freedom for little-to-nothing in return, but still being chained to a man who never really loved me because he suddenly decided that he might want to get to know his now 12-year-old daughter through forced joint parental sharing (Florida does not use the term "custody" for some reason), I thought I might be on my way because I received a job offer in Orlando. Unfortunately, that turned out to be false advertising with a capital F; I was adamantly told the job was "training" and "marketing" when it turned out to be commission-based sales. Call a spade a spade. Painting it and splashing perfume on it is not going to change the fact that it's used to dig up the soil. So, after moving (and all the cost and personal investment that it entails), the company let me go in my second week. I'm not nearly as upset as people would expect. Let's just say that I tried to drink the Koolaid but found myself immune. But, that still leaves me in a city with no family or friends nearby and no income at the moment.
So, where does the Disney annual pass come into play? It has actually helped me keep my sanity and kept me from slipping too much further into depression. Because it is already paid for, I don't have to worry or feel guilty about driving down (roughly 30 minutes away from my apartment) to one of the parks to spend the day with my daughter. Parking is free, after all, with an annual pass and there is a discount for most non-food purchases.
Okay, I could probably pinch even more pennies by saving gas and staying home, or even driving to the local library since it is closer. That won't help as much, though. Taking my daughter to Disney once a week gives us time to really spend with each other. We don't have as many distractions and we're not as likely to do our own thing. Yes, I take some time out for myself while she rides one or two rides by herself, but this (for me) is more about giving her some independence than about me "getting a break" from my child. Honestly, I always feel insulted when someone implies that I need a break from my daughter. I love her like no one else. She is my reason for living. I don't like extended time away from her. I'm barely holding it together right now while she's visiting her father, which I feel forced into accepting as part of the divorce. So, yes, until I get a job we do spend time "together" doing other things throughout the week like watching TV or finding local events at bookstores. But those always feel like something meant for only one of us.
I now truly understand Walt's vision in creating Disneyland. There's just something about going to a Disney theme park that makes me want to actually spend time doing things together with the people who joined me that day. This is also the only time that I don't think about complaining about being outdoors, even though I pay for it the next day. See, if someone were to suggest going to a park for a walk or playing a sport outdoors, I might agree to go, but deep down I would moan about my allergies kicking in, making me miserable. I completely forget about that when I'm walking around a Disney park. I easily walk more than 4 miles on any given Disney trip, but I don't even think about it unless I keep track of it. Well, I feel it the next day when it's harder to get out of bed because I'm a little stiff and/or sunburned. That's where the workout part of the title comes in, by the way.
When my daughter and I go to a park, we go for a full day. Sometimes that means right at park opening, sometimes a couple hours into it. We usually don't leave until after dinner time. If it's not a Saturday, then we might even stay until park close (Sunday is Mass and I don't like either of us falling asleep during the service). We walk around so much as we meander from attraction to show to ride to shop. We take our time to enjoy the sites. The cell phones, iPods, or Nooks don't come out unless we're sitting down and we're finished eating or the line for the ride is longer than 30 minutes. I almost never Tweet or post to Facebook from the parks any more, at least not when I'm with my daughter, because I want to form memories, not memorials. I carry a backpack full of extra shirts and lots of drinks, so that's weight-lifting and I put on and take off the back to access the items within. There may be stair climbing or hill walking along the way. I don't notice all the exercise my body is getting because I'm enjoying myself so much. With this particular body, the less it knows it's getting a workout, the more it actually works to keep the weight manageable.
And the best part is probably the pricing plan. I know, I'm crazy. Disney must cost way more than a gym membership! Actually, I priced it out. My Florida Resident annual pass is under $520 a year, or under $45 a month. A local gym membership averages $50 per month at the minimum, plus the down payment of about 2 months-worth that's due when you join. Some gyms cost much more than that. And, if I were to go to a gym even weekly, then I would have to deal with my social anxiety. I know "fat" people are the ones who are supposed to go to the gym, but I can't get away from the stereotype that it's only well-toned people who actually use them. You can try to rationalize with me all you want. I'm still not going to feel comfortable in my current skin size to go to a gym even if it would help. At Disney, however, I'm working out without anyone having a reason to gawk at the walking land whale as she waddles along because they're all enjoying their own memories. I'm much less self-conscious in the anonymity of a theme park crowd than I am in a workout situation. I pack the extra shirt and supplies to freshen up halfway through my day, too, to reduce possible embarrassment and to feel better--I really don't want to be the one who's body odor ruins the wait for the next attraction. Plus, I'm sure my daughter would quickly get bored with a gym, assuming I could find one that would sign up a minor. I don't think she will tire of walking around Disney all day.
For me, the indulgence in the Walt Disney World annual pass is well worth the money. I not only get a weekly workout--five miles is a lot for an asthmatic with a bad hip--but I also get real mother-daughter time with the person who matters the most to me. Even though times are tough being an unemployed single mother, even though I continue to send out dozens (if not scores) of job applications each week hoping that I finally get a bite, even though my savings account is quickly drying up, I will do my darnedest to scrape up the money to renew our annual passes in the spring if I can. Who knows, I might end up losing weight in the process, too. Now that would be an added bonus.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
My Indispensible Folding Red Wagon
If you have been to a kid's softball or soccer game in the last 5 years you may have seen one of those red cloth wagons. I knew I wanted one the moment I saw someone carting all their equipment in it. I also saw them at outdoor concerts in my community. People filled them with chairs, picnic supplies, small children, and pets. Sadly, when I finally hunted one down at a local store, it was very much out of my price range at the time. I got lucky, though, and found one at a decent discount at a K-Mart that was closing. It was still a little pricey--I've always been living pay-check to pay-check--but I decided that I could come up with enough uses to justify the purchase.
At first, I didn't really use the wagon that often. I employed it a couple times to bring teacher gifts to my daughter's school at Christmas and during Teacher Appreciation week one year. I didn't even get to use it to bring her softball or soccer gear to practice or the games because I already had designated equipment bags pre-packaged and ready to go. So, my little red wagon spent quite some time in the garage, waiting for justification for the funds used to procure it. Then, my world finished shattering when I was tossed out like a bit of rubbish because the man who promised to love, honor, etc. until death do us part (TWICE, I might add, since we had a civil ceremony and then our marriage was sanctified in the Catholic Church) decided he wanted and needed nothing more from me because he found a better substitute, one who wouldn't provide a conscience or stand up for him when he was attacked by others.
[Sorry. It still hurts. But that's not what this post is about, now is it?]
Well, I found a new home far from my old one. I moved to an apartment, luckily on the first floor. But, I lost the convenience that a home gives you, namely the less-than-ten-foot walk it takes to bring in purchases from the driveway to the kitchen (or other designated room, if not groceries). When we first moved in to the apartment six weeks ago, I had family here to help me bring in my purchases and pack/unload all of our belongings. [That's another post that needs writing!] Even with their help, I found that my little red wagon was perfect for bringing in smaller items from the moving truck--pillows and blankets, luggage, small boxes. After we unloaded everything, I still needed to make many purchases to turn this place into a home. All we had, though it seemed like a lot, was our clothes and books and a few personal items. We had very little in terms of furniture, food, cleaning supplies, even bathroom accessories. So, I went shopping. That little red wagon came in handy with unloading my car, bringing everything into the apartment and helping my daughter and I set up this place into more of a home. It even proved to be a great convenience with carrying in all the shelving I had to buy (20% of the boxes we packed were books).
I actually use the little folding wagon on a regular basis. It fits 4-6 laundry baskets. Another convenience I lost when kicked out of the house was the presence of a washer and dryer, so I have to go to a laundromat each week. The little wagon folds flat in my trunk or back seat, then I pop it out and put in my baskets and soap, making the trip to the laundromat that much more convenient and less of a hassle. I also still use it on shopping trips, especially grocery shopping trips. It folds flat, sitting in my car until it is needed. I've been able to get everything from my car to my apartment in one trip each time I go out, even if I go out alone.
So, even though it sat idle for so many months, my little folding red wagon has more than paid for itself. I've even gotten a couple people asking me where they can find one for their own. I just have to keep my daughter from trying to ride in it (she stands at 5'5", so even if she had a stick-thin figure, which she doesn't, I don't want to risk her safety).
At first, I didn't really use the wagon that often. I employed it a couple times to bring teacher gifts to my daughter's school at Christmas and during Teacher Appreciation week one year. I didn't even get to use it to bring her softball or soccer gear to practice or the games because I already had designated equipment bags pre-packaged and ready to go. So, my little red wagon spent quite some time in the garage, waiting for justification for the funds used to procure it. Then, my world finished shattering when I was tossed out like a bit of rubbish because the man who promised to love, honor, etc. until death do us part (TWICE, I might add, since we had a civil ceremony and then our marriage was sanctified in the Catholic Church) decided he wanted and needed nothing more from me because he found a better substitute, one who wouldn't provide a conscience or stand up for him when he was attacked by others.
[Sorry. It still hurts. But that's not what this post is about, now is it?]
Well, I found a new home far from my old one. I moved to an apartment, luckily on the first floor. But, I lost the convenience that a home gives you, namely the less-than-ten-foot walk it takes to bring in purchases from the driveway to the kitchen (or other designated room, if not groceries). When we first moved in to the apartment six weeks ago, I had family here to help me bring in my purchases and pack/unload all of our belongings. [That's another post that needs writing!] Even with their help, I found that my little red wagon was perfect for bringing in smaller items from the moving truck--pillows and blankets, luggage, small boxes. After we unloaded everything, I still needed to make many purchases to turn this place into a home. All we had, though it seemed like a lot, was our clothes and books and a few personal items. We had very little in terms of furniture, food, cleaning supplies, even bathroom accessories. So, I went shopping. That little red wagon came in handy with unloading my car, bringing everything into the apartment and helping my daughter and I set up this place into more of a home. It even proved to be a great convenience with carrying in all the shelving I had to buy (20% of the boxes we packed were books).
I actually use the little folding wagon on a regular basis. It fits 4-6 laundry baskets. Another convenience I lost when kicked out of the house was the presence of a washer and dryer, so I have to go to a laundromat each week. The little wagon folds flat in my trunk or back seat, then I pop it out and put in my baskets and soap, making the trip to the laundromat that much more convenient and less of a hassle. I also still use it on shopping trips, especially grocery shopping trips. It folds flat, sitting in my car until it is needed. I've been able to get everything from my car to my apartment in one trip each time I go out, even if I go out alone.
So, even though it sat idle for so many months, my little folding red wagon has more than paid for itself. I've even gotten a couple people asking me where they can find one for their own. I just have to keep my daughter from trying to ride in it (she stands at 5'5", so even if she had a stick-thin figure, which she doesn't, I don't want to risk her safety).
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Auto-Fill
Thank goodness for the auto-fill functions of web browsers! Sites that work with my browser to automatically fill in forms with the same information that is requested over and over--name, email, address, etc.--save me so much time. I've encountered their convenience when signing in to my regular sites (email, Twitter, Facebook, etc.) and when filling out forms for contest entries or creating new accounts.
I have especially come to greatly appreciate the function of auto-fill lately, though, when I am actively hunting for a job (I need more permanence, stability, and at least twice my current pay to comfortably provide for my daughter on my own). Career sites that upload information from my résumé, pre-filling in much of the required data, save me at least an hour each time. I've had somewhere around 14 jobs and 3 college degrees in the last 16 years, so I have a LOT of information to input each time I apply for a job. [Before you judge me on my work history, note that many of my early jobs were short-term because of school requirements and I had temporary employment positions when we moved to our present location. I was also working 3 jobs concurrently at one point. I have had my current job for 6 years.] I've filled out more than 30 job applications in the last week or two, so you can imagine just how much my gratitude is growing. Granted, these sites are only about 90% accurate, probably because they don't use the exact formatting as I use on my résumé, but any time saved means the opportunity to apply for more positions, increasing my chances of landing that job that will fulfill my financial and career needs.
I recently encountered a situation in which auto-fill saved me from having to redo about 20 minutes of typing for one of my classes as well. I was building a crossword puzzle on Angel (course management software used by my college) when I inadvertently clicked on the wrong link to edit a feature of the puzzle (adjusting the possible score after adding more words). I was about to freak out and curse fate when I saw that only 5 of the 22 words seemed to have made it into the final puzzle. I really did not want to retype all those definition clues again. Luckily, Angel's auto-fill saved the clues from each line in the form, so I could easily retrieve it with a mere push of the down-arrow key in each position after re-adding the empty spaces for them to the form.
Thank you to the wonderful geniuses who developed auto-fill and to those who continue to fine-tune it. I know I am able to accomplish more with just that one small convenience and it gives me greater piece of mind.
I have especially come to greatly appreciate the function of auto-fill lately, though, when I am actively hunting for a job (I need more permanence, stability, and at least twice my current pay to comfortably provide for my daughter on my own). Career sites that upload information from my résumé, pre-filling in much of the required data, save me at least an hour each time. I've had somewhere around 14 jobs and 3 college degrees in the last 16 years, so I have a LOT of information to input each time I apply for a job. [Before you judge me on my work history, note that many of my early jobs were short-term because of school requirements and I had temporary employment positions when we moved to our present location. I was also working 3 jobs concurrently at one point. I have had my current job for 6 years.] I've filled out more than 30 job applications in the last week or two, so you can imagine just how much my gratitude is growing. Granted, these sites are only about 90% accurate, probably because they don't use the exact formatting as I use on my résumé, but any time saved means the opportunity to apply for more positions, increasing my chances of landing that job that will fulfill my financial and career needs.
I recently encountered a situation in which auto-fill saved me from having to redo about 20 minutes of typing for one of my classes as well. I was building a crossword puzzle on Angel (course management software used by my college) when I inadvertently clicked on the wrong link to edit a feature of the puzzle (adjusting the possible score after adding more words). I was about to freak out and curse fate when I saw that only 5 of the 22 words seemed to have made it into the final puzzle. I really did not want to retype all those definition clues again. Luckily, Angel's auto-fill saved the clues from each line in the form, so I could easily retrieve it with a mere push of the down-arrow key in each position after re-adding the empty spaces for them to the form.
Thank you to the wonderful geniuses who developed auto-fill and to those who continue to fine-tune it. I know I am able to accomplish more with just that one small convenience and it gives me greater piece of mind.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Being a Member of a Community
As I am an extreme Introvert, I am often accused of many things--being antisocial [People, get this straight!! See my psychology blog post on this!], having social anxiety, being a homebody. Basically, because I recharge my batteries in quiet solitude people like to jump to conclusions about the kind of person I am rather than bothering to take the time to get to know me better. As an I--J on Jung's typology (the first and last personality dimensions as assessed by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator), I take a long time to warm up to people. I observe and reserve judgment until I gather enough data to draw my conclusions. This also means that I am more particular about the people with whom I form friendships AND once a friendship is fractured it takes a long time for me to heal. I am capable of forgiving and moving on, but due to my nature I take a while to come around to the new conclusion. I don't ask anyone to like it, but it is always nice when someone tries to understand without leaping to assumptions.
Well, the other day I was thinking about the social activities of my husband and myself. He spends very little time at home. Pretty much all of his non-work time (and sometimes he takes off work early or uses his lunch time) is spent with FRIENDS doing friend stuff--watching movies or TV, talking, "hanging out", playing board games, etc. It's all about having a good time, entertaining themselves. I certainly don't begrudge him this. I understand the necessity to socialize, especially for the extrovert that he is.
Still, because I don't seem to have many friends, he thinks I don't know how to socialize with others. I happen to have friends. However, except for a small number of friendships I've formed locally--remember, it takes me a while to extend that title to someone--most of my friends live far away from me. Why do I have so many friends so far away? Well, that's the positive of the I-J; when we make friends we value them so much that we make the effort to keep them going strong even when physical distances separate us. I may not contact my friends on a daily basis. I may not physically see them in person--hard to do that when they are states, countries, or continents away--but I call or write or email or contact them via Facebook/Twitter. Because these people are important to me I make the effort to keep in touch. I do count that as socialization. I don't need to be in the same room with someone to enjoy their personality. It's nice to get to talk or do something with my friends in person, but I can love them as my friends without demanding their presence as well. I'm also not going to just write them off and move on to other people just because they can't hop on a plane to come visit me. I understand that they have lives and obligations and I will never begrudge them those choices. The people whom I have chosen as friends also understand this about me (many of them are closer to the introvert side of the scale, too) and accept that sometimes life circumstances may physically separate people but you don't have to emotionally separate because of it.
The ironic part of my life is that, though he accuses me of not having any friends and he insists there must be something wrong with me because I don't "socialize" by his definition of the word, my husband thinks I spend too much time outside the house doing too much for others. I have to scratch my head when he points out or complains that I'm never home because I volunteer at my church or for my daughter's various organizations. New flash: this is a form of socialization! I choose activities with other people that promote something for a greater good beyond my personal entertainment. Yes, I can enjoy the company of others AND still accomplish something like helping clean up a place, serving people, assisting, teaching people, or worshiping with others. My socialization comes primarily from being an active member of a community. I am not trying to inflate my ego in any way, but I know that if/when I ever leave here my daughter and I will leave quite a few holes because of all the contributions we make. I'm sure that, should he ever relocate, my husband will be missed for a while by the dozens of friends who know him. Some may even stay in touch with him for a while. And yet, other than his place of work, I wonder if there is anyone else who would be scrambling to fill the gaps he would leave behind. Sadly (from one point of view), there wouldn't be too many people who would suffer from a vacuum like that.
Here's a little more irony. Though my husband would leave behind many friends if he were to move, it would actually be harder for me to leave a place because I am a member of the community. I have a knack for finding a hole and filling it with my skills, abilities, time, talent, and willingness to assist. I enjoy having a purpose and a place. My choice of socialization tends to have more of a purpose than just entertaining myself. I can find enjoyment in the company of others, I just don't need to be so selfish about my activities. It's not just about making people happy, for me. It's more about having a place and making a difference. When I do finally leave here, I know, sadly, that I will probably leave some gaps that will take my community--church, work, daughter's school & extracurriculars--some time to find a replacement. I realize that I will leave a vacuum, so it can be tough for me to leave a place. The friends I made here, though, will stay my friends for as long as I continue to reach out to them. I know distance is no barrier to friendship, but it is to being a member of a community.
Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying one way of socialization is better or worse than another. There are two sides to every coin (3 if it's thick enough). On the one hand, it is easier for my husband than for me to make new friends everywhere he goes. On the other hand, it is easier for me than my husband to become a member of my community. It is also harder for me to leave a place than it is for him, but easier for me to keep up my important relationships when I leave because of my personality.
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