say hi to your mother for me.

Insecure perfectionism.

Yesterday morning there was a break in the clouds that provided the perfect opportunity for Silas to take out the recycling. It's been raining almost non-stop for several days, so to have a period of dry time was downright miraculous. He took out all of the glass and about half of the plastics/cans when he came limping through the back door with a look of utter defeat on his face. "I fell over a tree root that was sticking out of the ground and I just... I just think that maybe it's a bad idea for me to do the recycling. I shouldn't do the recycling anymore. I fell and it hurts on my knees and I just think this means I can't do the recycling anymore. I'm never doing the recycling again." His voice was tense and quick and a little high pitched. He was frantic, yet firm. It was almost humorous, the way he was repeating himself, except that he had scraped his knees a little and I could tell that he was genuinely freaked out by the experience.

He has not yet developed the skill of failing (or making mistakes) gracefully. Which is ok, he's young yet, and there's plenty of time to learn how to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and try, try again. He gets completely bent out of shape any time things don't go as planned or any time he can't pull something off that he's trying at. He is ruled by his current, right-in-the-moment circumstances. It's something I can understand. Happiness and joy are two different things... I sometimes wonder if people like us, sponges of our circumstances and surroundings, are truly capable of real joy: the joy that can't be shaken by messing up, things not going according to plan, or not having each and every new endeavor pan out. I think we are, deep down, but I have yet to experience it.

I worry for him sometimes... I NEVER learned this skill. I just never picked it up. His reaction to losing a level in a video game is similar to my reaction when I try a new recipe and butcher it. "I can't believe this turned out so badly. I'm never making this again. It wasn't supposed to look like this! The sauce was supposed to be thicker and it wasn't supposed to get crispy. I'm done. I give up." And that's when I throw the didn't-quite-turn-out-meal into the trash. I huff and I puff like a 5 year old. I pout. I might even slam the cupboards a little and bang around the kitchen instead of just accepting that something didn't turn out on the first try. It's ok to have feelings and emotions aout a setback or mistake, but to hold onto those feelings for dear life and to make them a part of your life... it's not so healthy.

I stumbled upon two quotes from "Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves" by Naomi Aldort (seriously, if there's one peaceful parenting book you buy, let it be this one) that really hit home regarding this exact subject:

• If he learns that his happiness depends on others or on circumstances, he is helpless; there is nothing he can do about it. - in relation to some people developing a "victim" mentality at a young age.

• Feelings are here to pass through us, so we can move on free of their grip. - in relation to not stifling the release of feelings and emotions in a child and then being able to let go of those feelings.

This kid will eventually learn that things don't always go perfectly and that doesn't mean you won't master it in the end. It doesn't mean it won't be ok next time. It doesn't mean that it's the end of the world. It really isn't the end of the world. I have to be willing to lead by example in this one, which is really hard for me. I'm determined to make sure we talk about this every time a teaching moment presents itself, because the mental list of things I tried once, failed at, and refused to ever try again is astronomical.

Celebrate good times, c'mon!

Somehow, my shop will be reaching the one year mark this month. I made it a year. Insanity.

cheer me up, why don't ya?

Don't Stop Believin' from Jasie VanGesen on Vimeo.

Notice how he totally mumbles the parts he doesn't remember and owns the parts he does VERY loudly.

baby, you've come a long way.

we're in the middle of a windstorm, baby.

I posted a video awhile back where I spent the entire time prattling on about my hair. Well, I was able to get my hair trimmed just a weekend or two after that and I held strong. I could have reverted to my old ways and had the stylist chop off all the awkward and heavy bulk in the back, but I persevered. I had made it that far into the uncomfortable growing-out process, to chop it off again would have put me back at square one.

Ultimately, I ended up having her thin the whole thing out while taking as little length off as possible. My hair is still awkward as all get out, but it's significantly less heavy and bulky. I figure I'll get another trim right before Xmas. By then, the back should be a bit longer and maybe not drive me so crazy. I had her leave the front asymmetrical for now - Once it hits my shoulders we can even it up without making me look like I'm wearing a helmet of hair.

As a child I had SO MUCH hair. It used to get caught in the waistband of my pants when I got dressed in the morning.

(notice the total and complete lack of relevant segue)

I just did some math - I haven't washed my hair with shampoo in over 6 months. SIX MONTHS. Wow. And here's some more, completely unrelated, important to no one but me MATH:

Time spent living in different types of homes:

• apartment = 7 1/2 years
• motorhome = 5 years
• mobilehome = 11 years
  
• duplex = 1 1/2 years
• single-family house = 3 years

So... it's time to live in a house again. Big time. For the rest of forever, amen. We signed the final papers about a week and a half ago. I don't remember if I mentioned that or not. Now we just wait for the USDA loan to go through. That's gonna take another 5 to 8 weeks.

In other news... I'm a mess. These past couple of days have worn me down emotionally. I'm really starting to wonder if this is something I can continue to manage on my own. It might be time for medication. The problem is - no insurance. No chance of getting on any kind of insurance anytime soon. No guarantee any insurance would even take me since I have a medical history where I was once given anti-depressants, not to mention the fact that on some days I fall into the "morbidly obese" BMI category. I'm crossing my fingers for healthcare reform and taking care of myself the best I can. But the crying is getting to be unbearable, the constant uncomfortable bubble surrounding me, the inability to function normally... It's all starting to take it's toll.