Emergency preparedness
Some people live in tornado alley, others live in hurricane prone areas, we ALL live in the PMS zone.
Just as those that live in areas that common sense dictates a level of preparedness IE: A box containing canned goods, a can opener, candles, safety matches, flashlights and batteries, water treatment tablets an evacuation plan, etc. We all should have a plan of action for the PMS zone. The fall out in the PMS zone can be far reaching. If you don't live with a sufferer, chances are that you work with, are family of, even drive on the same roads with one. Being prepared is the key to survival!
Your kit should include supplies to carry you through a week at least.
Stay vigilant! Mark your calendars and be aware of "P" days approach and plan accordingly. Homeland security has yet to come up with an appropriate drill to help the populace survive this threat. As a public service, this pamphlet will include general items required for survival. Each individual will fine tune their kit to suit their needs.
General supply list
1. Chocolate and or chips ( what ever the sufferers favorite salt source)
2. Pamprin or Midol (to be doled out either surreptitiously or with extreme caution rather than suggest, hint, or infer that the sufferer's emotional upheaval and distress, is anything other than a disaster of epic proportions and usually the fault of someone else)
3.candles and matches that would go in any disaster preparedness kit work well for the PMS kit, due to the soft lighting being flattering and the romantic connotations.
4. Pre written love notes are suggested for the fast moving mood swings.
5. a heating pad or hot water bottle
6. a good bottle of wine and cork screw are required equipment.
7. chick flicks and tissues should be kept on hand
8. lots of patience, love and understanding should be kept with a neatly prepared evacuation plan for when the patience runs out.
This is a preliminary list and all suggestions for inclusion in this kit would be appreciated!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Monday, November 1, 2010
Ignorance is bliss
How is it that a heart feels crushed, without the warm weight of a small body pressed to it?
How can arms ache of emptiness?
My ears hear only resounding quiet.
Did I really wish at times for that sound, calling it peace?
I guess ignorance really is bliss.
How can arms ache of emptiness?
My ears hear only resounding quiet.
Did I really wish at times for that sound, calling it peace?
I guess ignorance really is bliss.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The story of my life/
Do other people do this? By this I mean, have a thought pop into their head, that they follow in a stream of consciousness kind of way, try and try to follow it to some sort of conclusion so that it can be filed away, only to have one though lead them into a miasma of other thoughts. One leading to another in a snaking many forked trail, that never seems to end?
This is going to be a MAJOR dump of info. The good the bad the ugly. I need to download TMI because I seem to have run into a glitch in my system. I start a thought, I don’t finish a thought. I move into another thought, and none of it comes together into a coherent stream.
Frustrated is what I am.
Don’t expect pretty. Don’t expect funny, Don’t expect even witty. This is the dump.
I can’t put my finger on when the build up started, or even if like arteries a plaque or in this case thought clog started. I am going to start about the time that the holidays ambushed me. That may be the middle the end or beginning. I don’t know and at this point I don’t care. I need to excise this mess and see if things flow better after.
Bear with me or look away, I’ll try not to get any on you.
8:;55 am (2 hour school delay)
Already I have had to walk away from the computer and the thought, to pack a snack for the child that told me an hour ago that she needed one and that she was going to make one, for her after school homework class. I told her to do it then but she got distracted ( sounds familiar), then I drove said child to the bus stop to wait for the bus. I am back, at least till the next one needs to get on the bus, but the thought I was following is gone. The words flown most likely never to return in any decipherable order. I will try again when the next barrage hits me, most likely like a subtle Mack truck, and I don’t have time to put it down. Ah well sighing won’t help and as always I have too much to get done and not enough time to do it all. I will start with laundry and see if that mind numbing chore jogs anything other than lint loose.
This is going to be a MAJOR dump of info. The good the bad the ugly. I need to download TMI because I seem to have run into a glitch in my system. I start a thought, I don’t finish a thought. I move into another thought, and none of it comes together into a coherent stream.
Frustrated is what I am.
Don’t expect pretty. Don’t expect funny, Don’t expect even witty. This is the dump.
I can’t put my finger on when the build up started, or even if like arteries a plaque or in this case thought clog started. I am going to start about the time that the holidays ambushed me. That may be the middle the end or beginning. I don’t know and at this point I don’t care. I need to excise this mess and see if things flow better after.
Bear with me or look away, I’ll try not to get any on you.
8:;55 am (2 hour school delay)
Already I have had to walk away from the computer and the thought, to pack a snack for the child that told me an hour ago that she needed one and that she was going to make one, for her after school homework class. I told her to do it then but she got distracted ( sounds familiar), then I drove said child to the bus stop to wait for the bus. I am back, at least till the next one needs to get on the bus, but the thought I was following is gone. The words flown most likely never to return in any decipherable order. I will try again when the next barrage hits me, most likely like a subtle Mack truck, and I don’t have time to put it down. Ah well sighing won’t help and as always I have too much to get done and not enough time to do it all. I will start with laundry and see if that mind numbing chore jogs anything other than lint loose.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Living in the moment
Living in the moment, that is a good thing... right?
I have always heard that living in the moment is something that we each should strive for, and there is a certain logic to it, but anyone that has children may have to disagree. What parent hasn’t cringed when a child of theirs hasn’t made the connection between action "A" + action "B" = X.
Little Sally is playing outside with the hose. This sounds like a nice cooling summertime activity. Next add one dog sunning on the porch to the equation. ( I can almost hear the light bulbs going on for other like minded people who just know where this is going)
Thoughtful little Sally decides to cool off the dog by giving it a good dousing with the hose. This equals "B" in our formula.
Dog, not particularly liking the cold water wake up call, rushes to the door to get away from helpful little Sally, who being the sweet child that she is, OPENS THE DOOR! Now the conclusion of our equation: Wet dog races into the house jumping onto the furniture running along the sofa face buried in the cushion with back feet propelling it along to evenly soak funky dog smelling water into each cushion as it careens about the room, overturing the lamp on the end table, tripping the parent who races into the room to try to stem the chaos and shaking seemingly gallons of water onto the parent as they reach for the dog.
Meanwhile, little Sally had only reached the conclusion that, summer = warm, Sally + water = cooling fun. Sally had not followed through the equation to it’s end. She was living in the moment.
Right now little Sally is living a moment in the corner.
I have always heard that living in the moment is something that we each should strive for, and there is a certain logic to it, but anyone that has children may have to disagree. What parent hasn’t cringed when a child of theirs hasn’t made the connection between action "A" + action "B" = X.
Little Sally is playing outside with the hose. This sounds like a nice cooling summertime activity. Next add one dog sunning on the porch to the equation. ( I can almost hear the light bulbs going on for other like minded people who just know where this is going)
Thoughtful little Sally decides to cool off the dog by giving it a good dousing with the hose. This equals "B" in our formula.
Dog, not particularly liking the cold water wake up call, rushes to the door to get away from helpful little Sally, who being the sweet child that she is, OPENS THE DOOR! Now the conclusion of our equation: Wet dog races into the house jumping onto the furniture running along the sofa face buried in the cushion with back feet propelling it along to evenly soak funky dog smelling water into each cushion as it careens about the room, overturing the lamp on the end table, tripping the parent who races into the room to try to stem the chaos and shaking seemingly gallons of water onto the parent as they reach for the dog.
Meanwhile, little Sally had only reached the conclusion that, summer = warm, Sally + water = cooling fun. Sally had not followed through the equation to it’s end. She was living in the moment.
Right now little Sally is living a moment in the corner.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Mirror Mirror on the wall
Mirror Mirror on the wall
I wonder who designed the bathroom in my house. I love the bathroom, and hate it. I have one of those large bathtubs set into the corner of the room beneath the skylight. What is not to love?I will tell you. My toilet is sitting right beside the afore mentioned bastion of comfort. Doesn't sound bad at the outset, till the fact that some sadist/ designer framed the walls around the bathtub with bathtub to ceiling mirrors.WHAT?!?While sitting perched upon the porcelain, one is invited to view yourself in all your glory.I have to admit to finding it rather akin to watching a train wreck. You don't want to look, you know you aren't going to like what you see, but still you peek between your fingers and gasp, " WTF?"I don't know about you, but I have this rather remote picture of myself that was forged somewhere in my 20's or 30's that has remained in my head as what I look like, maybe because I voluntarily looked in the mirror for more than a cursory glance more frequently back then. I am always shocked when I inadvertently look to my right in said bathroom and spy that person imitating me in those ghastly mirrors. I suddenly straighten up from my slouch sucking in what should be sucked in, and thrusting out, what at one time didn't need any thrusting. Then comes the critique. I hate myself for it and still I do it. I have to stand in front of that tub before slipping into the blessing of bubbles and soothing hot water and furtively steal glances, taking in just little at a time to avoid being overwhelmed by the whole picture. When did that jiggle get there? What happened to that flat little valley between my hipbones? Who put those circles under my eyes?I can tell you from experience that slipping down into those bubbly depths ( a little quicker than the days when I manage to avoid the looking glass) mercifully beneath mirror level, is a reprieve similar to a governors pardon.After my soak it is easier to face that image. I can see the wear that time and living have found their ways to make their mark on my body. The skin not as supple as it once was, the laugh lines, the roundness that covers areas that were once flat planes, with a more philosophical view.Maybe like my house, I have the lived in look.Broken in, but not worn out.Next on the list of home improvements will be mirror removal, and maybe another lap around the block.
I wonder who designed the bathroom in my house. I love the bathroom, and hate it. I have one of those large bathtubs set into the corner of the room beneath the skylight. What is not to love?I will tell you. My toilet is sitting right beside the afore mentioned bastion of comfort. Doesn't sound bad at the outset, till the fact that some sadist/ designer framed the walls around the bathtub with bathtub to ceiling mirrors.WHAT?!?While sitting perched upon the porcelain, one is invited to view yourself in all your glory.I have to admit to finding it rather akin to watching a train wreck. You don't want to look, you know you aren't going to like what you see, but still you peek between your fingers and gasp, " WTF?"I don't know about you, but I have this rather remote picture of myself that was forged somewhere in my 20's or 30's that has remained in my head as what I look like, maybe because I voluntarily looked in the mirror for more than a cursory glance more frequently back then. I am always shocked when I inadvertently look to my right in said bathroom and spy that person imitating me in those ghastly mirrors. I suddenly straighten up from my slouch sucking in what should be sucked in, and thrusting out, what at one time didn't need any thrusting. Then comes the critique. I hate myself for it and still I do it. I have to stand in front of that tub before slipping into the blessing of bubbles and soothing hot water and furtively steal glances, taking in just little at a time to avoid being overwhelmed by the whole picture. When did that jiggle get there? What happened to that flat little valley between my hipbones? Who put those circles under my eyes?I can tell you from experience that slipping down into those bubbly depths ( a little quicker than the days when I manage to avoid the looking glass) mercifully beneath mirror level, is a reprieve similar to a governors pardon.After my soak it is easier to face that image. I can see the wear that time and living have found their ways to make their mark on my body. The skin not as supple as it once was, the laugh lines, the roundness that covers areas that were once flat planes, with a more philosophical view.Maybe like my house, I have the lived in look.Broken in, but not worn out.Next on the list of home improvements will be mirror removal, and maybe another lap around the block.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
every day
Anyone that knows me probably knows I am a proponent of finding the joys in each day. I am well aware that this is easier on some days than on others.
Funny that the days when it is easy aren't always the ones you expect.
Today I have been busily trying to evict a very stubborn skunk from under my house. This activity in general wouldn't strike me as very joy inducing from the outside. Imagine my surprise when I found myself reflecting on the warmth of the sun on my back and recognizing the moment for the happiness that it gave me, between scrabbling along on my knees in the rather wet dirt. Granted, this was not a birth of a child joy moment, but it was a simple realization that I was enjoying that moment.
We all tend to focus on the stressful moments in each day. Sometimes that is unavoidable. I wonder though, how much happier we would all be if we trained ourselves to recognize the simple happy moments, and give them the same weight that we give to the less than happy moments.
Funny that the days when it is easy aren't always the ones you expect.
Today I have been busily trying to evict a very stubborn skunk from under my house. This activity in general wouldn't strike me as very joy inducing from the outside. Imagine my surprise when I found myself reflecting on the warmth of the sun on my back and recognizing the moment for the happiness that it gave me, between scrabbling along on my knees in the rather wet dirt. Granted, this was not a birth of a child joy moment, but it was a simple realization that I was enjoying that moment.
We all tend to focus on the stressful moments in each day. Sometimes that is unavoidable. I wonder though, how much happier we would all be if we trained ourselves to recognize the simple happy moments, and give them the same weight that we give to the less than happy moments.
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