No thanks Mr. Hugo.

It's late. 12:32 am. I believe a change in my blogname is called for because lately it is anything but "disregulated. " My days of open up laptop, open up brain and let everything flow out unrestrained appear to be over. My steady stream of consciousness is now constipated. Then again, that is just one way to look at things. Maybe I'd like to take my blog writing up a notch and be a little more deliberate about what and who ends up in my posts. Particularly the "who" part because I think this is an area where I must tread lightly. I'm developing a growing sense of the privacy and respect that others deserve. So as I pull in personal experiences, I feel compelled to present the characters in these personal dramas in a fair and anonymous way. Maybe this is why I've felt the need for such a long break from frequent blogging activity. Maybe I needed some time to fine tune and create a plan. (even though I have still have no plan). Once I get a plan, I also plan to deviate from my plan as the need arises. But in this moment, my plan seems to be falling asleep. I wake up enough to crank out another sentence before I slip back into my altered state. Probably not a good time to be blogging. Who knows what secrets I will divulge in this condition??? My kids used to love my bedtime stories when I was really tired. Now Josh doesn't want to hear one, unless he is pretty sure I'll fall asleep as I'm telling it. Mainly because I tend to fall asleep as I'm talking and yet I continue with the story mostly uninterrupted. It is when my unconscious starts talking and then things get really bizarre. Josh still likes to remind me of the story that started out like any respectable fairy tale does with a prince on a mission quest...but then it ended up with everyone getting on a school bus. They were all taken to a hospital where the bus driver ordered everyone out of the bus. He marched into the hospital and yelled,..."Can I get back to work here????" He laughed and it woke me up. I asked him to tell the story back to me because I had no idea where it had gone and I laughed in spite of myself. I'm hopeless at this. When I'm awake, my stories are so boring and predictable, when I'm asleep they make absolutely no sense. They toggle between mundane and incomprehensible. This reminds me again of my blogging history, which I believe has followed a similiar pattern.

It's now 12:54. Twenty minutes have gone by and what do I have to show for it? Only a cup of cold Candy Cane Tea that I forgot I made for myself an hour ago. I was distracted by a quote by Victor Hugo on the package of the box of tea... It said something like..."a smile is the sun that wipes the winter off of the human face." I found myself becoming oddly annoyed by that quote, which on the surface seems benign enough. Maybe I'm annoyed because of his insinuation that winter is a negative thing, that sun is a good thing and that smiling is our ultimate goal. I like winter. Today I took the kids sledding. Noah and his cousin launched repeatedly off of a snow jump. Every time they aimed correctly, they were rewarded with the flight of several feet off the ground. Which often led to a messy landing, which then led to giggles and big clouds of snow and then another haul up the hill to do it all over again. Christian and I shared a sled for most of the afternoon because of his timidity with solo runs. My anxiety over a metal post stuck inconveniently in the middle of the sledding field didn't help much. Christian asked me why we were sledding down a hill when there was a fence surrounding it with the words "no sledding" stamped repeatedly down the several horizontal fence planks. When he asked me, the metal post came to mind and I told him that this was more of a "suggestion". Oh...he said. So they aren't telling us...they're just "asking" us not to sled here. Yeah. I guess you could say that. So we won't go to jail. No, we won't go jail. Actually, I thought, the consequences would be much worse if we were caught by the menacing post, than any rebuke by a grumpy Parks and Recreation employee. However, we were not caught by either one today. It was a wonderful day and we had a great time. On the way home, I could feel my toes start tingling from the sensation of warming up and I thought to myself that there aren't many sensations in the world that I like better. (of course...I can think of a couple...lets face it, who doesn't enjoy a healthy bowel movement? Come on. Be honest). My face was red, glowing and wind kissed. Sun kissing the winter from my face? I think not. Winter is welcome on this face. At least for a few months out of the year.

But Shelly...I tell myself...you dope, you missed the whole metaphorical meaning of what poor Hugo was trying to express. No. I think I got that too. Winter=Sadness and Despair. Sun=Hope and Optimism. Hope and optimism shuts out sadness and despair and nothing helps the process more than a cup of Candy Cane Tea. But....obstinate doof that I am...I want to know why I need to have hope kiss away my despair? If I am despairing, I want to sit down and drink my tea with my despair. Welcome it as an important guest and get to know it. Not wallow and surrender to it,.....but look my despair square on until I understand it. Confront confront confront...until I understand. It's the only way I think to real hope and optimism rather than the counterfeit kind that we hold onto tightly because we should.

It's now 1:26am. Over an hour has passed. My brief sleeping spells are increasing in frequency and duration. Maybe its time I surrender to it.

(yaaaaaaawn) Good night!

E=mc2

CI gently reminded me that I've been slackin' on my bloggin' lately. It's true. I couldn't even remember my password for a minute or so. It not that I've left this community altogether, I still think of it often, and the relationships I've discovered through it... It's more that my time has shifted into a higher gear lately. I cannot believe how fast everything seems to be flying by. When my kids were little, time was molasses. Everyday clicked off one tick tick tick at a time. Sometimes it was fun and rewarding, but mostly I was terribly bored and lonely and really really tired. It's not that I didn't love my babies, or the time I was able to spend with them (cleaning up pooh, wiping boogers, playing in the leaves, rocking them to sleep, watching PBS, taking long walks where no twig in our path was left undiscovered). It was a sweet time of life and I think back on it with great nostaglia. Now my kids are all in school, my time has entered into a much much quicker pace. Homework, piano, scouting, soccer, endless volunteering, the PTA... I decided that once all my kids were in school, that would be the time to reopen the business idea (with all that extra time I'll have when they are in school). HA! I haven't touched accounts receivable in a month, it's all in a stack waiting for me. It's now on my afternoon agenda. Because I've just spent all morning helping out in the 5th grade class. They have huge class sizes in Utah and I feel it is a priviledge, a duty and an honor to help decrease the ratio of kids to adults. Okay....hang on...let me climb down from my high horse. Not to say this isn't true... but my primary motivation is to be involved enough that I know what's goin' on. That I know when to fill in the cracks of my kids education, and to also compare the stories that get carried home with what I am perceiving first hand. I'm not easy to please, but I'm pleased this year. There will never be the "perfect" match, but there is a strong community feel and people who seem passionate about these kids. That's enough for now to keep me happy.

I know this isn't really a post. Just a quick update. I'm slowly figuring out how to shift the burdensome minutia of the little clinic onto others...my partner, a bookkeeper, an answering service, etc. I'm gradually letting go of micro-management. I miss my free time. I miss connecting with friends and blogging. And..ski season is starting soon. For my big 40th birthday that is coming up way too fast, I'm hoping to get myself a fancy new snowboard and carve out time to actually use it. My current board is over 12 years old and it has seen it's better days.

I hear rumors of another Exmo Expo coming up. I hope I'm not an Ex Exmo Expo Member. If there is a minimum number of posts required before an invitation to attend is issued, let me know and I'll get crackin'.

Lord Mortar and the killer thunder strike

I heard an interesting metaphor the other day. A doctor had a patient come into his office who was convinced that he was dead. The doctor asked him to describe a dead person, how he looks, behaves,etc. The doctor asked.."Can a dead person bleed?" ...the patient said, "no, a dead person does not bleed". So the doctor pulled out a needle and pricked the patient's finger. Since the patient was not in fact dead, he started to bleed. The patient stared at the blood and said. "oh...I guess dead people DO bleed." The implications behind this metaphor go beyond the need for further explaination. Politely transparent walls and closed doors which are shut off to all influence allow us to nuture our prejudicies and neglect our sense of reason.

I took the kids to their first day of school today. I felt like crying. We had fun together this summer. On the other hand, the last couple weeks I've been counting down the days. Right now I'm watching my five year old (who starts kindergarten next week) and his best friend practice their Power Ranger moves. It's incredibly endearing. I wish I could describe it in a way that would do it justice. Right now they are using"power blows" and "mystic kicks" to fight the evil Lord Mortar. Ooooh...just finished him off with a "thunder strike"...except one of them just kicked the shelf by mistake with his bare foot and I'm not sure who is the worse off.

I'm trying to wake up from my funk this morning. I had another one of those gut wrenching emotive kind of dreams. In fact I woke up sobbing. My oldest was being shot and bludgeoned to death by an army of Chinese soldiers. Only it wasn't really my Josh, it was Josh's clone but I loved him like he was the real Josh and I was in a panicked helpless state. When I woke up, I decided the dream was about killing the false self. But it drained me. I wish I understood it. I wish I could go back and rewind it and analyze it frame by frame but the memory of it is hazy and mostly what I am left with is the feeling. Which right now feels empty. Not a bad kind of empty but an empty like I've just been "purged" kind of empty. Like my thinking brain has shut off and my emotive brain has taken over. Except that part of me is so powerful that I have just numbed everything up so I am left comfortably empty and dumb. No one is manning the ship right now, except for perhaps the automatic pilot. I hope she remembers to pick the kids up from school and give the dog his medicine (he has developed a nasty case of oral warts...gross).

I have to admit I have some theatrical leanings. But the dream was powerful. It will be fun to ruminate on it when I have more energy!

Now that Lord Mortar has been vanquished from the dark corners of my house (and my brain), maybe I can breathe easier now.

that's a lot of bacon

I discovered this morning that there are over 10 million pictures of bacon and related bacon like themes on google images. (thanks to my son who from now on wishes to be called, "the baconator".

waking from sleep

It's barely morning and I'm just waking up. My eyes feel sticky and dry. I had really disturbing dreams last night that pounded me with frustration. In one, I was a traveler and I was trying to get home. Not to the home I'm in right now, but to my childhood home. There was a family party going on there and I knew I would be missed. I was stuck in the middle of a grass field with other travelers each just as lost and as stuck as I was. We were all waiting for a train, but each of us had different destinations. Ironically, trains kept coming, staffed by beautiful Indian attendants...but they were all going someplace else, somewhere we didn't intend to go. I thought of different ways to get home,...I could walk but it was too far. Perhaps I could rent a car... but I couldn't afford it. So I sat down in the grass with the other travelers and just waited.

I woke up from this dream before anything was resolved. The dog was licking the soles of my feet. A sweet way of saying...hey lazy butt, get up and get my kibble. This is becoming a habit for him, I guess my feet get hot in the morning and I stick them out of the covers where they are in his visual field. It wakes me up enough for me to giggle and scratch him behind his ears, but I don't think that is what he's after.

He did get his kibble eventually, but not before I sank back into another dream. This one was less defined with a lot more side action happening but what I remember most was a family meeting with one of my former clients (I am a speech therapist working as a supervisor to graduate students at the U...not sure why I feel compelled to include that fact because anyone who has the inkling to read this already knows this). I've decided not to discuss my client's stories on my blog, even anonymously...privacy is a sacred thing. So I won't tell her story, I'll just say it is the most tragic thing I've ever seen and this girl continues to haunt me. She is my age and from what I've learned about her personality before her accident, I think we could have been good friends. In my dream she was an infant, a beautiful, healthy infant. She was smiling and visiting each of us in the circle the way any normal infant would. Her father (much younger than he is in real life) was reporting on the therapy she had received under my tutelage. (I don't actually provide the therapy at my work, I just supervise). He was harsh. He said of me...."She didn't know what she was doing," "I can't believe she enjoys her work", he said. "My daughter made no progress" "It was a waste of time." Ouch ouch ouch. I nodded in agreement. "You are right. I am a fraud". Then I kissed the little girl and left the meeting and went shopping for clothes. There was a sale going on, in fact, we were having this meeting conveniently right there in the clothing store.

The last dream wasn't completely disturbing, nor would I even call it a dream. It was more of an image and I was already 1/4 awake by this time. The background was completely black. The deepest black I've ever seen. I saw an image suspended in space, floating in this deep black. It was a cyclindrical bag with thick edges. It looked like it was made of soft plastic. This bag was stuffed full of small pastel colored balls. There was no feeling or meaning attached to this image. It was just there and I watched it hanging meaninglessly in space.

Must go. House, boys, dog all in need of attention. (plus I fell asleep before doing my work thing last night)

... Noah is waiting anxiously to tell me his dreams now.

Drooling and snoring...

I'm finally beginning to realize that I blog more when I'm using it as an avoidance tactic. I've got something I have to do for work...and it's really not that hard, but I just don't want to do it. Of course, I'll end up doing it anyway, it will just be later tonight and I'll be grumpier and even less willing,less efficient, less complete, and more apt to make mistakes. I resent working on the weekends. But I end up just punishing myself for this resentment.

I'm nursing a wound I have from an argument I had with hubby a few hours ago. It started with (drum roll please) ...dog poop.... but not really. That's what we decided it was about, but what it really was about was much shitter than the dog shit itself, and I think we are only barely aware of what that even is. Maybe it goes back to the ageless argument of who's job is it to do what. But I think underneath that excuse it that universal need to be seen, validated, recognized, appreciated and loved. Something we both have learned very well how to withhold. Why do we withhold? Because it is being withheld. Who makes the first move? Who is adult enough here? Is it really true that you get back out what you put into a relationship? You put love in...you get love out? But how do you protect yourself from being taken advantage of? Is it also true that if you put rancor in, you get rancor back? Is there no other option other than love or rancor?

ugh. I need to change the subject or I'll never get to my work project and I'll get too worked up to sleep.

Last week I pulled several nights with little or no sleep as I trudged through the dbp.* Friday night Jason took the kids camping. (a father/son thing)...and as a reward for my hard work and since I had a whole evening just to myself...I treated myself to a professional massage. I've had plenty of massages before. Most of the time, I leave a little bit disappointed as I attempt to gauge whether the massage justifed the time and money spent to get one. But last Friday there was no question in my mind. It was Nirvana. I now know what I want in a massage. I want the pressure so deep that it hurts (in a good way). It has taken several different people over several different years each trying their own technique until I found one that I really like. After it was done, I felt like he had replaced years to my life that stress and personal abuses had robbed me of over the years. I get a massage every few months or so and I usually just jump around to different therapists. I tried sticking with one but he was really disappointing in the end. But now...I have found him. I have found the therapist with the keys to Nirvana. It will take self control to not go back too soon or too often, given the expense of it. Normally I like to chill out and not talk but I found myself unusually chatty. I found out he was a "gamer". And sometimes he'll play for an entire day without noticing time passing. He's also into creating his own computer programs, (for lack of a better word, he could describe it better than I). This massage thing was just a weekend gig. It was strange really, laying there all but entirely butt naked as this guy I'd never met before sent me to Nirvana, and there was nothing sexual about it. I started to wonder if he ever had fantasies about his clients. Of course he did. But I'm quite sure he won't fantasize about me. I believe I was so sent that I might have started to drool. Plus...I'm old. I'm getting older and as a woman, I'm moving closer and closer into the realm of sexual irrelevancy. (not as far as I'm concerned but I'm describing how I think the larger culture looks at women with gray hair).

Oih. i'm starting to nod here. I cannot fall asleep. Cannot....fall...asleep. can't fall....fall...can't.........................(snore).


*dreaded business plan

All Done. Yipeeee!!!!!

oh yeah. uh huh. that's right. ....baby I'm done with the dreaded business plan.... For anyone well versed in the normal operations of a business this would have taken half that time. I think what hung me up was the initial need I felt to adapt to the excel spread sheets offered to me from the free business planning guy at Zions bank. They are supposed to be general enough for most businesses but I found them laborious to navigate. So I learned what kind of info that is important to identify and created my own, perhaps messier, but certainly more personally tailored projections reports. I hope the bank guy feels the same about my creative liberties. It won't kill us not to get a small business loan, but I'm tired of contributing our grocery money to get things jump started. I took my ideas for splitting the business with my partner to an attorney who advised me on how to do this so that neither one of us feel "screwed", especially if one of us ever wants out. Mostly he said I was giving too much away to him and he tempered our arrangement a bit to build in some protection and share the burden of the risk, for both of us. I like how things are forming up and it is exciting to see it all start to come together. Now...we just need clients. Anyone out there need help with your /r/'s? how about tongue thrust? I saw a kid yesterday in Josh's science class who was a major tongue thruster. I've noticed this is a hard thing to grow out of. I've been waiting for my second child to finally get his permanent teeth before we correct that endearing at first, but now becoming increasingly annoying /s/ laterialization issue.