admit what I really want

I have finished my book, and I am ready for all sorts of new energy and creativity to flow through me. I am ready to have fun and time for myself and for Nick. I honestly expected it. But it is not happening. I get up exhausted; I go to work exhausted, and I fall into bed exhausted. If I get time to myself, I sit like a zombie and look at random sites on the computer. I have no energy.

I am sure that this is partly the “postpartum depression” I always get after finishing a revision of my books. It’s also a product of coping with all the changes at work and of always being “on duty” when I am at home and never really getting any time to myself or time to think and reflect unless Nick is asleep, by which time I am usually brain dead.

But I must heal. I love my life and I want to have fun, be creative, love Nick, and be a healing force in his life. However, I need to heal before I can d all that.

I am starting my healing journey by reading Creative Visualization by Shakti Gawain. It was recommended to me by the personal organizer who helped me set up a system in my office. She said that when she read it, she realized for the first time that she was in charge of her life and that she had the power to transform it.

I can’t even think beyond this step, but I am sure the path will clear before me as I go.

to do a fantastic job on my presentation today.

Paws crossed!

Starbuck’s coffee.

A little more than five years ago, when Nick was in the hospital near death, I vowed to the Universe that I would give up Starbuck’s if I could keep Nick. Yeah, I know, I was in the bargaining stage of something or other, but Nick did live and I did stop drinking Starbuck’s, for five whole years.

Recently, I volunteered at an event and was given a $5 Starbuck’s card. I have gotten them before, and passed them on to someone else or gotten a strawberry smoothie at the campus Starbuck’s. But this time, I started thinking that five years had gone by and that somehow, a turning point had been reached. I released myself from the vow, and though I have not spent the $5 certificate yet, I have twice enjoyed a Starbuck’s nonfat latte.

Since I have given up candy and pretty much given up concentrated sugar, the Starbuck’s is a real treat

The Universe works in mysterious ways.

Last fall, I taught a pilot course at the college for which I felt compelled to come up with some new ideas. One of them pleased me very much, and I thought, I could present this at a conference, if I ever went to conferences any more.

In an apparently unrelated incident, I found myself drooling over a bag that was on sale. But this was more of a huge weekend bag, and I said to myself, “Jessy, you never go anywhere. You don’t even go to conferences anymore.” But I had the strongest mental picture of myself throwing it in the back of the car and heading out. It was such an appealing and pesistent picure that I finally caved, figuring I could always use it to schlep stuff to work and back.

Then, just before Christmas, the Today Show or the Early Show (I forget) showed some special deal where you could order a GPS for $19.95. Again, I said, “Jessy, you never go anywhere.” But the price was too good to pass up.

Then, in January, my editor emailed me and asked if I’d be willing to do a presentation at a conference, representing the publishing company. This was too good to pass up, and I knew exactly what I could present. I emailed him the idea and said I would need to make some arrangements, but I wanted to do it.

So in March, I’ll be throwing the weekend bag in the car, firing up the GPS, and heading out to make a presentation. I’ll just be gone one night . . . I can’t leave Nick too long . . . but I intend to enjoy my trip.

Travel arrangements courtesy of the Universe.

time to work on my book.

Nick to get physical therapy regardless of his rate of progress. How will I accomplish this? I will get a personal trainer for Nick, to help him move forward with his current therapy. I have already called the therapist’s office, and the receptionist says that although Mike does not do personal training, she is sure he will know someone, and that we should talk to him about it Friday. Check. Will do.

Now, what if, after some progress, the physical therapist wants to discontinue therapy? My thought is this. It may not be too big a deal, as long as we can come back to it. With speech therapy, it was slow going at first. Nick would make progress, then hit a plateau, and the therapist would discontinue therapy. But every time we went to the doctor, I’d ask for an order for speech therapy. And every time, Nick would make more progress. The man who started with a 30-second short-term memory span (if that) and who had a hard time saying which shirt he wanted to wear (usually he’d just point) now makes jokes, uses sarcasm, and tells me that he never wants to see another bowl of Cheerios again. Nick still uses his 40 insurance-allowed speech therapy visits per year, and I time them for fall and spring, with summer reserved for physical activity.

With physical therapy and personal training, insurance be damned. We can dip into savings for that.

So if the same progress were to be made in the same way with physical therapy, it would be okay. I’d continue with the personal trainer and with exercise so that Nick would not lose what he has gained. A door has opened for him, and I must not let that door close.

And while I am thinking about what I want for Nick, I also want his improvemnt in what the neuros call “initiation,” that is, the ability to need or want something and to act upon that need or desire. I always have to provide him with what I think he needs (food, a blanket, whatever) because he can’t tell me. I have to check on him and stay nearby, because he can’t call out to me. I have seen that gradually, gradually improving over the years. And oddly (or not so oddly), the leaps and bounds seem to come when he has been engaged in more physical activity.

Two things have amazed me lately. In the middle of the night the other week, he called my name and woke me up to ask me if I was okay. The cat was meowing, so I think that’s what he may have heard, but who knows, I could have been moaning in my sleep. Initiation.

And then, he called me from another room last week and said, “Come here and mend me.”

I said, “What?” and he took my hand and said, “Look after me.”

The caregiver was with him and he did not really need looking after, but I think he wanted my company. (Yay!) I sat down and talked with him and held his hand. Asking for what he wants and needs. It’s all good. I would like to see more improvement in that area, too.

not just surface stuff, but baseboards & windows. I keep the floors & kitchen counters very clean indeed, but my zeal wanes after that. Nick’s caregiver keeps my plants alive & dishes washed, and does Nick’s laundry.

But I need more, and I shall get it. Yesterday, Nick’s temporary caregiver was telling me she had started cleaning houses again, so I asked her about it. She does baseboards and windows, and once a month her hubby comes with her and cleans porches and outsides of windows. Have I died and gone to heaven? I think so! I told her to give me a week to clean up for her . . . that is, to get everything put up so she can clean . . . and they can start next saturday with a full cleaning. I am going to have her over twice a month. Yay!

Right now, I want chocolate.

like the ones I had tonight. My students were testing in the school’s Testing Center, and I brought page proofs to index as they tested. I spread them out on a small table, and it occurred to me as I worked that everything was perfect.

The table was just big enough, and there was nothing on it but my work. The room was quiet, cool, and uncluttered. All I could hear was the hum of the air conditioner as cool air fell on me. Yes, fell. It was not blowing on me, it was descending.

I was so happy working there that after the last student finished and left, I stayed for half an hour until what would have been the normal ending time for my class, working on my index.

Indexing a book is boring, meticulous work, but I was focused: no ADD, no boredom or restlessness, no annoyance at interrupting my work as each student finished the test.

It was so, so, perfect.

I have never had it in my life . . . until now. I have always been practical, kept my cars eight or ten years, bought vehicles with good gas mileage, and bought used. (I have had 2 new cars over the years, but it’s not the norm.)

But ever since last September or so, I have been thinking about a new car. A nice, midsize SUV, to be exact. And when I say nice, I mean nice. As in leather seats, GPS, keyless entry . . . all the features I have never had in a car.

How bad do I have it? The car ads are the first thing I look at. Edmunds.com is bookmarked.

Just shoot me.