No Fireworks on my Birthday Please

Via Public Domain

I loved the Fourth of July as a child. After all, the entire nation celebrated my birthday. Most people remembered my birthday. I got to always watch fireworks and hang out with family and friends on my birthday.

But then reality hit as an adult. I worked on my birthday three years in a row before marrying. I didn't mind too much. I made money after all.

I had much different expectations for my birthday than my husband did after we married. I was used to spending time with my aunts, uncles and cousins or friends on Fourth of July. My husband wanted to celebrate with just us. I was very angry when he refused to go to my family's house for six hours on my birthday. Come to find out, he was waiting for Cold Stone to open with a custom birthday cake. I was still livid because the party my family had partially planned for me was over by the time my husband and I arrived.

My husband was being sweet, but not listening to my wishes. After a few years of marriage, I realized I hated surprises, and necklaces, rings, dresses, etc.

My birthday became harder each year with my grand expectations of wanting to do parades, fireworks, be with my family yet have rest. It was so much simpler as a child when my parents took care of the logistics of parking, packing and preparing the food, driving through traffic, paying money for everything. Once I was old enough in my small hometown, I could walk or bike to all the events myself.

Now I have four boys ranging from from tweens to toddler who have varying wants. I live in Utah Valley with crazy traffic on the Fourth of July. I have become a hermit on my birthday where I don't want to do anything at all. My husband finally has a day off of work. I can take a nap and a break from the kids. I might see my parents and a few relatives. There is no simple celebration. I don't even want to stay up late on my birthday. The fireworks keep my kids up. I wish that there was no Daylight Savings Time so the fireworks would begin at 8 pm. Then I could fall asleep, or read in peace. I am just a plain party pooper these days. It's pathetic.

For my birthday wish, stop the fireworks at 10 pm please. Haha!

Doubt the neighbors or the city will follow my wish. ;)

Who Fits the Traditional Mold?

"People have the most self-esteem when they achieve a balance in their sense of inclusion and uniqueness. That is, they wish to be similar enough to others to feel a part of their groups, but they also want to be be different enough to be special." 

Mark Moffett, The Human Swarm p. 134

My Relief Society studied Sharon Eubank's General Conference talk "Christ: the Light that Shines in Darkness" on Sunday. We discussed the section "Some of us feel we don't fit the traditional mold." One sister commented that none of us really fit the "traditional mold" because we are all unique.

In the Church community, sometimes we can feel like we don't fit the "traditional mold" of a Saint. Many have the idea that Saints are heterosexual couples with two or more children. The man served a mission and the woman may have served a mission. If they live in Utah, then they are probably white, have some pioneer heritage, grew up in the Church, are "conservative", etc. But this all follows a stereotype that we create in our minds of a "perfect" image. It isn't reality for most people. Even those who partially fit a stereotype, are not so easily typecast.

Some might say my family fits the mold of a returned missionary husband, yet he left when he was 22. I came home early from my mission. I have difficulties because of my bipolar. We have four boys, which would meet a stereotype of members; we both are from pioneer and convert heritage; white. We are libertarian conservatives. I chose to only act on heterosexual feelings, but I had some bisexual leanings as a young adult (my experience is not indicative of others).

There are other members I know who are single, divorced, remarried, struggling with addiction, LGBTQ, Democrat, Republican, childless, all races, and so on. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a place for everyone to gather to bring themselves closer to Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father through sacred ordinances.

In Sister Eubank's talk, she says Christ's sees us in our tree, or as an individual. Christ knows our pain and sorrows. Then we come together in unity of purpose in our families and wards to improve ourselves and comfort one another. We are all imperfect, so we will smooth each other's edges out as bump into one another to fit together, per se.

This reminded me of how humans have two competing desires: to be a part of a group, yet assert their individuality. We need your individualism to retain personal identity, but retain a group identity too. If we don't maintain this balance, we feel too isolated in uniqueness or passed over in a crowd.

Church can be a struggle at times because we feel a loss of our personal identity among the group of Saints. We feel that we conform to the lifestyle of the Church's commandments. We no longer stand out. Some want to do anything to bust out of the traditional mold. So some may show individuality (or rebel) in small ways. Others feel that they don't fit the traditional mold for various reasons. And so they feel alone and isolated. Both groups have lost the balance of inclusion and uniqueness. We can try to find the balance by looking toward Jesus Christ to meet our needs.

Satan manipulates our desire to fit into any group with feelings of self-consciousness. We won't meet our potential because we are worried about what our peers or enemies may think of us. My second son was missing a button on his shirt so that he was extremely self-conscious during church. He tucked his head down, as if anyone could tell that a button was missing. It really wasn't that noticeable. My husband took him home for the second half of church. But he missed time being with friends because of his self-consciousness.

Self-consciousness has stopped me in my life from speaking or doing things. I am afraid of being judged as a mother especially. I try to remember that it only matters what my Heavenly Parents and Jesus Christ think of me. Only they have pure motives concerning my growth. So I can rely on the Spirit to guide me in my actions.

Shiny New Ideas

Via Public Domain Pictures

My mind likes to catch onto the shiny new idea instead of finishing old projects. It's why I have many novels started, but very few finished.

I had a shiny new idea yesterday while lying on my bed for a nap. It came: A woman who would commit social security fraud. She'd have to collect it from some people she knew who died. Maybe she works at a nursing home or it could be relatives. Relatives would be easier. Well, how about three aunts who have lived with her. And ideas spawned from there.

My brain thinks of many shiny new ideas thanks to bipolar. But it isn't necessarily bipolar either. Everyone gets sick of the mundane. Sometimes, we just want spice in our lives.

Shiny new ideas make it hard to focus on completing the mundane ideas. I have ideas that have been around for decades that I have never finished. I have several drafts of those stories. I want to tell those stories, but they require work. Anything requires work.

I found it harder to truly concentrate after I started medication because I no longer have hyper-focused hypomanic episodes. I could accomplish so much in a short amount of time--but then I would have the crash. It would take time to recover from the crash. My relationships and mental health would suffer.

It is more difficult to finish projects since having children. I have rare snatches of writing time. I am frequently interrupted besides my own brain interrupting me. Life is busy with the medical needs of four boys and my own. There are always chores. The mundane is always with us. And the mundane is comforting too. My family had too much excitement at the end of March with a newsworthy incident. So the mundane is fine.

I can write about shiny new ideas.

That Pee Smell

Via Public Domain Photos

When I lie on the couch to read, I want to relax, but that smell keeps coming to my nose: pee. It is somewhere in our house. I want to find the source, but the source is everywhere: the dirty diaper pail seven feet away, dirty laundry underneath the changing table, the toddler sitting next to me, the couch cushions, everywhere!

I remember going to friends' houses with babies and it would smell like pee. I swore that my house would never smell like that that. I knew that my house would stay clean. I kept my parent's home clean as a youngest child.

Now the pee smell never goes away as a mother of four boys. My toddler rips off his diapers multiple times a day. I find the diapers stuffed in random places. He pees and poops all over the house until I catch him. I wrangle a diaper on his bare butt. My husband taped his diaper on one night.

This doesn't include when the diaper overflows. The pee and poop leak on the couch and bed. Oh, it is just wonderful.

We potty-trained our third child last fall, but he still wears a pull-up for night time. He sometimes changes into underwear independently in the morning. Other times he doesn't. This is when the pull-up is leaking all over the couch in the morning. This is why I sniff pee on the couch when I read.

I thought once my boys were potty-trained the problems went away. Oh no, it doesn't. No one ever talks about bed-wetting. Enuresis. It's there. It keeps going. And you give your child the medication the doctor recommends...no it doesn't work. They just have a nasty reaction to it. Does your child reduce drinking before bedtime? Maybe for a few days. Then I am just too busy for the reminders anymore.

And then there is the advice from doctors and well-meaning people on potty-training and bed-wetting. One lady said she started poop training at six months old and potty-training at eighteen months old. She pressured me to potty train my oldest for a month. I had several people unnaturally pressure me to potty-train my oldest. I tried multiple times during eight moves in eighteen months and I only felt frustrated with my oldest. Outside pressure only made things worse for both of us.

Leave parents alone!

What can I expect from my children when I can't control my own bladder anymore? I rarely practiced all those Kegel exercises. When I sneeze from sun exposure, it comes it triples. My underwear is wet. And I still have occasional accidents when I have diarrhea. I just know how to clean it up myself.

So, I have become really good at cleaning pee in my house. I use baking soda laundry detergent, vinegar, and occasionally super washing soda and borax. My husband complained that his underwear smells like vinegar. That's because I use scent-free dryer sheets. My only goal is to have everything have a neutral smell in my home. I don't want to cover up the smell of pee with floral scents. I want it gone with pure and natural chemicals!

Bipolar Spring Fever and Eliminate the Time Change

Via Public Domain Photos

I feel burned out at this time of year. My body has experienced a mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder or maybe just the winter blues since November. December I had it particularly bad. But mid-February I have this strange beast from the equalizing of the light. The spring equinox disturbs bipolar people's circadian rhythms. It is so random. I read about it my local newspaper three years ago. This is March Madness or spring fever for bipolar people.

I made another connection last year when I saw the Business Insider article about the time change causing an increase in heart attacks, car accidents, bipolar suicides, workplace injuries and so on. I have made suicide attempts a couple times within a few days after the spring time change.

This year I feel a little more prepared because I am aware of what the spring equinox and the time change do to my mental health. I have been working on a few extra steps to prepare myself, but I have had a hard time the past four days.

I sent an email to my state representative about the time change. I even got a thoughtful response back. I felt so proud of myself for doing that before the actual time change happened!

I sent in a letter to the editor to one of the state newspapers. I don't know if I care if the letter is published or not. Really, I feel quite validated that my representative responded to me.

What is so simple about eliminating the time change is that it violates no one's second amendment right, yet has the potential to reduce suicide. That has been my soapbox thinking in all my rough drafts that will never see the light of day.

Anyway, one day at a time.

Grad School May Come Another Year

I received the letter today that I was not accepted to the linguistics MA program at BYU. I am disappointed. I have cried some tears, but that is to be expected. I believe that is a normal reaction.

Now I am trying to stay on a positive focus, so I am not on a downward spiral. I can feel tugs of the negative voice telling me I am stupid. But the reality is that there are only so many open slots each year in a program. I don't know why my application was rejected. I will probably ask for more details so I can improve those aspects. I may try to apply again next year. I know that my GRE scores were low.

Anyway, I am intelligent. But it is hard to see that intelligence as a mother sometimes. I don't have the time to sit and write intelligently thought out papers like I used to. Bipolar doesn't limit my intelligence, but it impacts my ability to concentrate. I have racing thoughts and my thoughts often go on tangents. I have a difficult time focusing. I love the next shiny thing. In this way, my writing is often choppy or stream of consciousness. It can be confusing. I have to focus very hard to complete tasks with bipolar and with four boys distracting me. I want peace.

I wonder about God's timing in all of this. What is in store for me? I still have a toddler at home I watch during the day. I just am antsy having been a homemaker for 12 years. I feel stuck in my growth. I've applied for a few part-time jobs, but I am only available in the evenings. This is just a pity party.

We save money since I won't be in grad school. We will save thousands of dollars.

I will keep my sanity, right?

Haha!

I am going crazy!

Applying for Grad School

I have wanted to apply to graduate school for the past five years, but it has been all about timing and money. It is still about timing and money. I am not sure we still have quote enough "money" because we need to get out of debt to expand our house. The timing with the age of our children still isn't ideal, but I started the process this year anyway.

This is a bit daunting for me because I have not had a college class for eleven years now. I feel old to be applying to graduate school, but I know there are many "older" students. I am only in my mid 30s. It's strange because I have been a homemaker for twelve years and only done a little freelance writing. Graduate school is a large step outside my comfort zone.

I really felt old studying for the GRE because I have not done geometry for 20 years. I fulfilled my college math credit with high school dual enrollment credit, so I have not had math since high school. I practiced my times tables and worked through questions on one and half books with my toddler's "help."

Last week I took the GRE. My brain almost exploded halfway through four and half hours of testing. To think that I paid $205 for this voluntary torture! It is a means to an end...

So I have debated what to apply for graduate school. I thought I may want to go to law school or get my master's in linguistics or creative writing. I realized that linguistics is the niche I want, but I am still a creative writer. I love to study language and to craft language into stories.

My biggest stumbling block in this process has been writing my statement of intent because I don't know what I want to focus on studying in linguistics. With bipolar, I want to study the next shiny object. I am writing this post to gather some of my thoughts.

I want a broad understanding of linguistics that I didn't quite get from my undergraduate degree. I have gaps in first and second language acquisition, historical linguistics, and comparative linguistics. I am interested in phonetics and word etymologies.

My career goal is to be able to teach writing, English linguistics, or general linguistics at a post-secondary institution. On the side, I plan to write my own poetry and novels.

I believe each word is poem. It's sound adds meaning. Its history adds weight. Its function in a sentence as a noun, verb, or as perhaps both.

And yet language is so imprecise that it cannot capture our thoughts adequately. It is merely a set of symbols.

Now I wax philosophical.

Good night.