California Bean Bag

We were listening to Rihanna's California King Bed in the car while driving Offspring the Second to school this morning.  He was listening to the lyrics, and then deadpanned:

"California Bean Bag."

Hee.  I will never be able to hear that song again without thinking "bean bag."

Offspring the Second has a marvelous wit.  He is stoic and generally quiet, and yet his magnificent sense of the absurd, of sarcasm, of contrast and alliteration and pun and wordplay, flows constantly under the surface and emerges periodically like a serene and glorious fish in a river of language.  His interpersonal skills and understanding of the human race are remarkable for a young man of not-quite-seventeen.  He is kind, thoughtful, and humorous. Such a blessing, he is.  

I admire him tremendously.

Not Snow!

For strange and mysterious reasons, the high-speed cable-modemn internet connection cannot tolerate any form of precipitation. The molecular dusting of snow that this desert land received yesterday was apparently sufficient to cause the connection to give up in despair.  Although a temporary cable-free connection is available, it is quite sloooooooooooow. Alas. 

At first, the provider offered a service call on Saturday.  When we explained that Herself telecommutes and that a greater-than-96-hour delay in restoring internet services was not acceptable, we were transferred to another individual who informed us that we were quite fortunate to be able to squeeze in a service call a mere 53 to 57 hours from then. :::commence the grinding of teeth:::

We will hopefully be back with aplomb within two days' time.

Frosty

This morning we awoke to find that the grass was all frosted.  Oooo! Pretty!  So chilly!  The Very Small Dog was not at all sure that she wanted to walk on the frost.  She looked mighty silly trying to sniff out the right place in the yard to pee, while attempting not to put more than one paw on the ground at a time.

The frost reminds Herself of winters in New England, where she was born and raised and spent five years after graduate school.  Though she doesn't necessarily miss New England itself, there are times when she is nostalgic for the mountains of snow.  As long as her toes and her fingers were warm, she was happy to be out in the cold.  The white blanket of snow, the gray sky, the quiet.  Beautiful.

She remembers shoveling snow in the winter when she was pregnant with Offspring the First.  At five or so months along, she had finally left the days of nausea and fatigue behind, and there was something very satisfying about the combination of the warmth of her burgeoning belly within her parka and the mild exertion of the shoveling.  Chipping ice off the windshield was not nearly as enjoyable, though. 

She would not mind a little shoveling this winter.  Will there be snow?

 

Yours For The Asking

How difficult it is, to ask for what one wants.

Herself has a firmly-ingrained abhorrence for asking anyone for anything.  She has always worked carefully to avoid inconveniencing or upsetting others.   She remembers that even as a small child she would deliberately refrain from speaking up about her wants.  She would remain silent even if her siblings mentioned their preferences about even the smallest of things, such as the selection of a vegetable for dinner, lest she create extra work for someone or cause someone else to be unhappy with her choice.  (There were a lot of log-shaped green beans -- her brother's favorite -- throughout her youth.)  She would not ask to attend a school function if it meant that someone would have go out of their way to drive her there.  She would not mention feeling unwell until she was sick enough to require bed rest.  She would not ask for any of the clothing that was popular amongst her peers, for that would mean that one of her parents would have to take her shopping and, worse yet, spend money on her. One of the most difficult questions was, "What would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Egads.

She was a very quiet child.

She is still much the same way today.  Much of her aversion to the telephone stems from a fear that she may somehow interrupt or inconvenience the person whom she is calling.  She puts the Offsprings' and her Beloved's needs ahead of her own even if it is to her own detriment, always. She remains silent when a relative criticizes, lest she wound the feelings of that relative by speaking back.  She does not daydream about what things she would like to have; she considers that a waste of time and energy since she will only very rarely spend money on herself -- it could be better spent on others.  She does not ask for help except under dire circumstances.  She is most comfortable functioning within these self-imposed parameters.

Underneath it all, though, there is a slow and quiet evolution. Over the past few years, Herself has begun to realize that she is allowed to want. Her needs do count. Perhaps, occasionally, it is appropriate for her to speak up for herself. 

She works hard to anticipate and meet the needs of other people.  I'm sure she errs on occasion, but she tries. Very hard indeed.  Nevertheless, after much analysis she has determined that not everyone does -- or can -- do the same.  Humanity is not telepathic, nor even always empathetic, nor do people (including herself) often understand all the little eccentricities, motivations, and driving forces in even those with whom they are close.  Other people cannot meet her desires unless and until she shows them what they are.

Her needs are not often complex:  usually, they are basics such as a need to get enough uninterrupted sleep.  Occasionally, she would like to have a calm and helpful person step in and handle matters during the rare moment when she feels too exhausted, upset, or ill to take care of matters herself.  Yet because she so seldom asks anyone for assistance, it is impossible for those around her to ascertain when she is close to her breaking point.   

Therein lies the greatest difficulty.  She must learn to ask.  It goes against every fibre of her being to do so.  Yet it must be done. 

She has begun to try.  It no doubt surprises everyone around her when she states what she would like another person to do.  So unexpected!  She evaluates at length before making any request to ensure that it is in fact a reasonable one. She does her best to choose her words carefully, too, so that people will understand that her statements are not a criticism of them, but an explanation of her own particular needs.   She knows that her requests might be met with a "no," and she understands that she cannot take such refusals personally.  It is difficult. She is learning.

She would do well to remember that the asking and giving of help go hand-in-hand, always. Fewer things bring her greater happiness than to help others; perhaps, occasionally, she should offer someone she loves the opportunity for such a happiness for themselves.  It could be wonderful.

Refusing to ask for help when you need it is refusing someone the chance to be helpful.  - Ric Ocasek

Barcode

Marvelous, indeed.

NaNoWriMo Results

National Novel Writing Month drew to a close this week.  Herself had aspirations.  How did she do?

Erm. Well.

November was A Difficult Month, bookended by the car accident at the beginning and the passing of James the guinea pig at the end, and with assorted things in the middle.  There was blogging, but not much work upon the story.  Nevertheless, I will point out encouragingly that the story is three times longer than it was at the beginning of the month. So that is good. While it is not a great deal of progress, it is progress just the same.

We will see how much the story advances in December.  I am optimistic that it will continue to grow.

Small Success

Herself had to dress slightly upscale this morning, in dress pants and a sweater rather than her usual running pants and fleece. 

She was pleased -- and relieved -- to find that her size 4 dress pants fit comfortably.

In the daily struggle concerning body image and self-confidence, it's a small but satisfying victory.