Sandra Tayler's Blog, page 111

The Line Between Normality and Abnormality is Wide and Murky

I have been pondering how to measure psychological normality. This may be a simple process to those who address such questions professionally, but I rather doubt it. The human mind is a complex thing and I suspect that there is not so much a line between normality and pathology as there is a large murky area which may be one or the other. When my daughter needs to take a small object to school so that she feels secure, this is normal. When she fills three quarters of her backpack with small objects and is insistent that she needs all of them, there is a larger emotional issue which needs to be addressed. For a long time I've had a functional definition for a disorder. Something becomes a disorder when it interferes with the things the person wants to accomplish. It is a good and solid definition, except for the fact that the human mind is wired to adapt and it will gradually change its perception of normality. Then I'm left wondering how we all came to consider as normal my daughter hauling seven pounds of erasers, small toys, pencils, pencil sharpeners, and trinkets to school. Once we identified the issue as a problem and found the root causes, my daughter was much happier and life was better. These days she skips off to school, her backpack empty of everything except school work.

Our own lives are always normal to us, except where they compare with recent history. My life feels normal to me, which is why I am bemused when someone tells me that reading my blog helps them feel like their life is more manageable, because they have less to handle than I do. I am then left to ponder, have I inched my way out into some abnormality without recognizing I have done so? If I have, why did I do it? Does it need fixed? Is my life structure a problem? On nights when I lay awake with my mind spinning and my heart racing I think that perhaps yes it is. On days when I get everything done and the sun is shining I think that perhaps it is not.

Standing in the middle of my life, it is hard to see past all my things to tell if the whole thing is running out of kilter or straight on course. An outside perspective is necessary. I rely heavily on prayer and inspiration for my outside perspectives. I get daily, sometimes hourly, feedback about whether to stay the course or shift things. I also depend upon several perceptive friends. I talk until my voice is hoarse and they see things which are invisible to me. I am extremely fortunate. Perceptive friends keep turning up in my life just when I most need them. They function in many of the ways that a good psychologist or therapist can function. Sometimes I get to be the perceptive friend for someone else. I always feel honored when this is the case. The truth is that we all need rescue sometime, often when we can't even tell that we're drowning.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Scenes from the beginning of school

"Perfect. Perfect. Perfect." I was checking handwritten names against the list provided by Gleek's teacher. The first spelling list of the year required all the students to learn to spell each other's names correctly. "Oh. This Alysa has a y, not an i."

"I put a y!" Gleek said.

I turned the paper so she could see it. "On the page it has an i."

"How did that happen?" Gleek's whole body filled with tension and she clenched her fists. "I wrote a y! I wrote a y!"

"I'm sorry." I said then elected to move on to the next name rather than fighting over that one. Several other mistakes were found until on the final name Gleek snatched the paper from my hand and crumpled it into a ball.

"Gleek, do you want to write all of the names three times or just the ones you missed?"

Gleek clenched the wadded paper tighter and glared at me.

"You need to practice these names."

"I want to take the test again!" I could see in her face the fury at her mistakes the driving need she had to get this right.

"It's okay to make mistakes, Gleek. They just show us where we need to practice. You don't have to be perfect."

Gleek threw the crumpled ball into the trash and collapsed her head onto her arms on the table. Her rigidity dissolved into noisy tears.

New school, new teacher, new peers, new expectations, adjusting to a new biorythmic schedule, and a case of swimmers ear; Gleek was entitled to her break down. I picked her up. I barely can these days, she is getting so big. We snuggled for a bit, put drops in her ears, and I had her tell me about her day. The spelling list could wait.

***

"Do you have any homework?" I asked.

"Nope." Link answered cheerfully. He was holding his brand new 3DS. He'd been saving up his money all summer long, carefully calculating how long it would take. The combination of an unexpected windfall and a price drop meant it was delivered yesterday. Throughout the afternoon I would discover Link hovering near me with his 3DS in hand. He needed help connecting it to WiFi. He wanted it linked to our Netflix account. He had the money to buy a game, but needed a credit card to purchase points. Each request was reasonable, and each gave me pause. My son is venturing out into a world where he can choose his own entertainment and carry it with him. Each connection empowers him to make choices. It is always fearful for parents to contemplate the choices that their children might make. I watched Link's bright face and could feel the cheerful innocence roll off him in waves. So I gave him rules and handed his device back.

"This is the best day ever!" Link announced as he put his headphones back into his ears.

***

"I don't know what to write!" Patch moaned. He was faced with the task of writing three sentences describing his hopes for the new year. The problem being that he had no concrete hopes for the year to come. In general this is good, because when Patch plans he plans very specifically and then is quite upset if the world deviates from what he planned. In his new school he is still learning how things work. He has not gotten far enough along in the process to plan for much.

"You mentioned earlier that you wished for printed homework sheets instead of binder paper. You could write that."

Patch shakes his head, all too aware that expressing such a hope for a teacher to read is tantamount to a summoning spell. He did like the look of Gleek's homework more than his own, but quickly shifted into wishing for less homework in general.

In the end he wrote three sentences. "I hope for lots of reading time. I hope for lots of computer time. I hope to make new friends." It was a good balance for him. These are expressions of wish, not plans. He is not obligated by them and therefore they apply no stress to him. This is good, because adapting to homework after dinner instead of play is a sufficient overturn to upset any kid.

***

Kiki brought home a boy after the first day of school. He is a familiar boy who was greeted with delight by all the rest of my children. On the second day of school, we intended for her to have a quieter afternoon. Instead we spent 45 minutes standing in line to get her Learner's Driving Permit renewed. She now has six more months before acquiring a license will also require a written test.

"I think getting a job would be good for me." She announced cheerfully as we drove toward the DMV. "It would be good experience and might help me get into college."

The school counselors spoke of college today, and of ACT testing. Kiki was wrapping her head around the requirements and possibilities.

"I agree that a job would be a good experience. I think you need to be more settled into this school year before we're ready to consider taking on anything else. Last year was pretty hard."

"I know." Kiki said with a toss of her hair. "But this year my classes are set up better. I get to push harder in art and I like art."

"Well, then you need to finish off both your electronic high school class and your driver's license before taking on anything new."

Kiki sighed and rolled her eyes, but I could tell it was pro forma. She is as ready for a calmer year as I am for her to have one.

***

I am tired. The day was trauma free, but it was long and I'm still far from caught up on all the work things which fell behind during WorldCon. However the progress is good and tomorrow looks like it will have less child errands in it.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

After WorldCon, The First Day of School

For what feels like the first time in three months I am alone in my house. I can feel the silence wrapping around me like a comfortable blanket. Even more I can feel the absence of imminent requests. As a mother and as a business manager I live my life on call. Then today I ushered my kids out the door and knew that (barring emergencies) they would not need me again for six hours. Howard slept and then headed out to a movie. He does not need anything from me today either. My computer is full of neediness. There are social media sites to catch up on, blogs to read, and emails to answer. Yet I am aware that this is mostly an artificial need. I choose to skip catching up on facebook and assume that I'll be otherwise informed about things that are critically relevant to me. I barely skim twitter and google+. I haven't yet touched my blog reader. The things in there are longer and require more focused energy.

The silence in my house reminds me that when school let out I was in the middle of finding a better balance between doing things for others and giving myself space to grow. I put that on hold and need to return to it. So I'm doing the same thing I did all week at WorldCon when I had more things clamoring for my attention than I could manage. I made a hand gesture to the observant and trustworthy sources of clamor. It was a single finger upraised, meaning "I see you. I'll get to you. Let me finish this first." The thoughts on life balance subside and settle in to wait patiently. I have accounting to do. In this case the accounting is not just money and inventory. I must account for the uses of my energy and Howard's. These calculations are not easily weighed against each other, except by feel. How does a week full of sleepless nights rank against getting to see Steve Jackson and Monica Stephens every day? How does feeling ill on the night of the Hugos measure up to having David Brin stop by our booth to tell Howard he enjoys reading Schlock? And then there was the time that Larry Niven happened by and Howard was able to speak with him and gift him a book. The list of people I met for the first time is long. The list of stunningly beautiful, touching, dramatic moments is also long. I have to remember these things when I am so completely unable to be useful for business tasks today. The balance on WorldCon is overwhelmingly positive. I need to make records of this so that when I'm mired in pre-WorldCon stress next year I can check the balance sheet.

My children were delivered into my hands on Sunday, both tired and happy. We all made the trek home, traveling over night and into the morning. Then yesterday I walked with my youngest two through the halls of their new school. They bounced to their classrooms and spoke with their teachers. I did not bounce and any time I sat down I had to fight off sleep. Yet I was still able to feel that the place was good. I think that my children will do well there. I could see some of the small tensions in them relax. When they come home we will begin with establishing solid homework and bed times. I have hopes that after all my preparations for this fall to be difficult, it will not be. I might be more stressed about the whole thing if I had energy to spare. Instead I need to muster the brain cells to answer email.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Input Overload at WorldCon

I am not currently reading anything off of the internet. Unless the News is big enough to enter the convention chatter, I will not hear about it until the middle of next week. My regular round of blogs are stacking up and it will take me some time to get through the pile. I'm only checking email and Twitter, both from my phone. This is not unexpected. Conventions are so full of conversations and new experiences that the last thing I need to do is shove more thought-fodder into my brain. I'm already spending at least an hour each night laying awake in the darkness while my mind sorts and files the day. What I want to do upon falling in bed at 1 am is to drop immediately into a deep sleep. Unfortunately the nightly brain sort is fueled by caffeine. I've been consuming far more of it than usual to combat the sleep deprivation, which is a little ironic.

In previous years at WorldCon I've had quiet moments at the booth where I can do a quick sorting of thoughts. This year I know far more people. There are fewer down times. When I do have them, I often spend the talking with Sal and Caryn who are helping us run our booth and whom I see far too seldom. Part of me worries that the lack of processing time is going to cause me to lose track of thoughts and things which I would otherwise have written. I just have to trust that what I'm doing is accumulating a wealth of raw experiences from which I can pull later. This year I've not suffered from the out-of-place feelings which plagued me during the Montreal WorldCon. Although sometimes I am so far outside my normal context that a part of my brain stands up and says "What are you doing here? Is this really what you should be doing?" When I arrive at these thoughts I do a quick check to make sure that I'm not doing something which I'll feel bad about later. (Not so far) Then I shuffle those thoughts out of sight as quickly as possible, because following that trail of thoughts leads to the part of my brain in which my parenting thoughts are stored. If I delve there I will end up actively missing my kids, which leads to tears.

Tonight is the night when I get to wear my dress and go to the Hugos. Yes I will have pictures later. Sal has an excellent camera. It may be a day or two until I have time to acquire them from Sal and put them up. We have a plan which lets us leave the booth before it closes, change, snatch a quick dinner, and then arrive at the pre-Hugo reception only a little bit late. I hope the plan goes smoothly because the lovely heels I'm wearing are not great for running.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Quick Friday Worldcon notes

I had two panels today. I was not an expert voice on either one, but I was able to contribute constructively. Both panels were graced with solid professionals who had no agendas other than giving good information. It was a pleasure both times. After the panels I had people come up to ask me various questions and I had reasonably useful information to provide.

One of the coolest moments from last night was when I got to introduce my friend Sal to Eric Flint. Sal loves Eric's books. Eric quickly discovered that Sal is extremely expert in history and swordsmanship. They exchanged cards and agreed to talk further. Introducing people to other people is becoming really fun for me. I like to think about what facets about each person would appeal to the other and give them fodder for conversation. It is a technique I picked up from watching Mary Robinette Kowal.

Speaking of Mary, I got to witness her puppet show. It was delightful and full of highly memorable memorable moments. I need to do a full write up on it when I'm not moments away from heading out for dinner.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Notes from the first two days of WorldCon

When I'm working a booth, I have to be radiating energy. I need to be alert and watching for people who need help or have questions. I try to remember names and faces because in a five day show many of those people will come back to the booth. I also need to assess new people to figure out what flavor of patter will best engage them and be comfortable for them. Some people want to browse in peace. Others are brightened by having me talk to them and explain what they are looking at. I was not doing any of that yesterday morning. It puzzled me until I realized that lately I've been in a retreat and re-group emotional state. Running a booth is very much an outreach event. I poured a can of caffeinated soda over that realization and suddenly I was able to be fully involved in all the booth running.

It helped tremendously that so many familiar people are here. I love turning around and seeing someone I haven't seen for months or years. Each day is full of a dozen little catching-up conversations. They are like little appetizers. Hopefully I can find some of those same people in the evening hours when I can sit down to really talk. I did exactly that last night. I found groups of good people and reveled in conversation. The night was capped off when Howard and I were among those who found John Scalzi's forgotten laptop bag. We went on a quest to return it to him and succeeded. As a suitable reward for this effort, Scalzi bestowed upon us SFWA guest stickers. This means we have weekend long access to the SFWA suite which is full of lovely people and food containing nutrients rather than preservatives.

As is usual we ended up being a meeting place for friends and sometimes a bag repository. We planned for this, deliberately trying to create a space big enough to invite folks in to sit. Having our own little lounge space means that we have people to talk to when there is a sales lull. Sometimes it seems like WorldCon is made of talking. My head gets a little over full, then I step away from the booth for a bit and talk to no one. Or I pull out a notebook and scribble down thoughts. If I pin them to paper they won't get away and I can stop trying to hold them in my poor overstimulated brain.

Today's delightful moment which inspired a scribbled note was the moment when I introduced my friend Sal Sanfratello who is former military and a current weapons instructor in Michigan to my friend Larry Correia who has done much the same in Utah. Standing nearby was Ethan Skarsgardt who is current military. Within three minutes they'd covered the sad lack of concealed carry reciprocity in Nevada which meant none of them were armed. But then they all three flipped out their folding knives almost at the same time. The knives all looked the same to me, but they traded them around talking edges and manufacturers. I love it when I can introduce friends and have them instantly get along.

Next I'm headed into another convention evening. I'm not sure if this one will run as long as the other one did. I was up until 2 am last night, which is a wee bit late if I want to be effective the next day. Fortunately it seems to have energized me. I have had a marvelous day and expect to have an even better evening.

Oh, and yes the sales are going well. We've paid our expenses and have three days left.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Wednesday morning at WorldCon

Copied from notes handwritten at 11 am on Wednesday August 17, 2011:

The convention hall is large, like a cavern. There is twice as much open air above us as any of the dealer's room booths use. The booths themselves are like the stalls at an arts festival or a farmer's market. Each small space has it's own focus and flavor. I wander through them and wonder how far the contents of each booth has traveled. I wonder how hard the booth runners worked, propelled by their dreams.

If I close my eyes, I hear the steady rumble of the air handling system. It blows cool, and creates the illusion of a breeze. Above that, bangs and clatters echo as people continue to set up and organize their spaces. Sometimes I can hear the sounds of voices. They blend into a pleasant babble, like a stream. Occasionally a cluster of voices breaks into comprehensibility. Usually this is because someone is angry or frustrated. Booth set up always exposes tools forgotten or problems not previously considered. There is a frission of stress in the air, because the doors will open to the public in an hour. Not everything is ready and no one knows yet if the sales will be enough to cover the pile of bills necessary to transport merchandise and set up the booth. Most of the arguements are simple sparkings of stress, not actual emergencies.

We are not immune to any of these stresses. WE had the emergencies of the wobbly tables, these thumbtacks won't work, and the forgotten camera cable. We set up the table and display the merchandise. As per our usual pattern we have already rearranged things twice. Each convention space is different and our merchandise changes over time. We always have to shuffle things around. Then I make notes about how we could run things differently and what supplies would be more useful to us.

At huge shows like GenCon, the convention center rolls out carpet and pipe and drape to help define spaces. We have only what we brought, the tables, and some tape lines on the concrete floor. Creating a congenial space is a challenge, yet so many booths succeed. Bare tables turn into book shops, jewelry stores, and craft stalls. Each space acquires its own feel. Witht the booths set up, the shopkeepers have some time to visit. We begin to know our neighbors and the booth starts to feel like part of a small town market rather than a foreign and sterile place. Five days from now, when it all gets torn apart, I will be sad. This market in this configuration will never exist again. I must do my best to savor it while it is here.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Trip Notes

Breaking the 8.5 hour drive into segments helped the trip feel a lot faster. We stopped at the airport to pick up our booth helpers. Then we stopped in Elko for gas. Then we stopped in Winnemucca for dinner. The hardest leg was the last one because it was late and everyone was tired.

Going to bed right after the long road trip proved difficult. The kids had to burn some energy first. I don't begrudge them. They were marvelous for the whole drive. Fortunately we had some handy grandparents who were delighted to let them play for a bit.

Setting up the booth went really well and quickly. We've got the right team. I always have a moment during booth set up when I look around and fear that we simply haven't brought enough stuff. That is when I have to remind myself that I did careful math ahead of time and we will be fine.

I don't like casinos. Fortunately there seem to be enough places which are not mid-casino that we can hang with friends. We've already begun to run into familiar faces. This is happy.

We left the hotel for dinner and found an wonderful Italian restaurant called Veccia. The food was amazing, if a little on the pricey side. As we were walking over we noticed a building under demolition. It caught my eye because of the mill wheel stuck to the side of the front building, which was still standing. On the way home we wandered back toward another section of building still stood. We looked at the wreckage trying to determine what the building might have been. We suspected a hotel. This was confirmed when there were open doors in the remaining section. We could peek inside and see that it was a themed hotel. We saw an ocean room, a castle room, a caveman room, and one that was so bare we couldn't tell what it was. The top floor was inaccessible, but we could peer in the open doors to spot pieces of murals which suggested outer space themes. One lone door on the edge of the wreckage said "pirate room." It was fascinating to look at this building which had obviously been created with attention and care, but which was being removed to make way for something else.

This morning when the kids headed out with my parents, I felt myself snap into greater focus. Instead of being split across mother things and business things, I only had one. I wish I hadn't been so tired heading into the day. It was hard to sleep last night.

But now we're set up and ready for tomorrow. We've had a lovely dinner and an interesting walk. Next we're relaxing and settling in for a long night's sleep.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Brief update

My days have been full of packing, organizing, and cleaning. My evenings have been occupied by connecting with friends, putting kids to bed, and watching the first season of Heroes with my older two kids. (We finished tonight and have happily written our own ending chapters without having to watch any of the remaining seasons.) All of this has not left me much time for the slow unwinding of my thoughts which is the condition most conducive to blogging. Life gets busy, word count goes down. This comes as no surprise to any writer anywhere.

The emotional arcs of the week have been just as tightly packed as everything else. Howard and I both have gone the rounds with self-doubt, anxiety, and pre-convention jitters. Gleek and Patch have both settled back into being content with the fact that they'll be going to a new school, except I can see the small signs that they're still a little on edge. Kiki came to me this evening to talk about her pre-trip feelings. She is a homebody and always misses her house and her kitty. Link is the only one of us who is bopping through this week like it is normal.

And yet, it is all coming together. We're all going to have fun. Then we will move onward again.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Preparing for the Weeks Ahead

My kids start school in twelve days. This means it is the ideal time for me to begin moving bedtimes and wake-up calls earlier. I should be organizing the house and sorting through clothes to see what got unwearably ratty during summer play. My kids need calmness and stability so they can enter the new school year with confidence and a good night's rest.

I leave for Reno in three and a half days. There are dozens of things yet to accumulate and accomplish in order to meet the various needs of the trip. I must prepare everything so that the booth can earn enough money to pay for it all. I must plan and pack my clothing so that I can present a professional appearance while at the show. I also want to get to wear some of the fun things I own which don't get aired otherwise. Howard needs all of his things prepared so that he can be Howard Tayler Cartoonist and participate in the Hugo Award Ceremony. The kids need to be prepared and packed so that they can spend 5 days with their grandparents. Those five days are bracketed by long road-trips. The last hours of road trip will end within thirty hours of the first hour of school.

There must be something I can do to make this Reno trip compatible with creating calmness and stability before school starts. Honestly, I haven't had the time to figure it out. Instead I helped my teenage daughter light a fire in our firepit so that her friends could roast marshmallows. I helped the neighboring mother, who stopped by, to assemble smores for a dozen neighborhood children. Then I let my youngest two stay up past their bedtime playing night tag while I sat and visited with my neighbors. At the end there was a bit of a meltdown followed by a warm snack and a back rub. None of the things I did this evening seem to help any of the things which are coming up, except it feels like I made exactly the right choice for how to spend my time.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.