Untangling Tales

But if I hold my breath, maybe the feeling will pass…

~

The NaNo forums are growing more active again as November approaches (and with it National Novel Writing Month).  I have only (as in, in the last 24-48 hours) found a measure of balance (this is without daily training sessions for the dog.  I vaguely regret now signing up for her class– but I prayed about it too…).

Add now my heart is in a flury of excitement over possibilities and delights.

I did update my status and proffer a title and synopsis, but (so far) that’s all the indulgence I’ve allowed myself.

I’m off to make fairy tutus now.  Maybe that (or the preperationless class tonight) will pull me back to reality.

But then there is that dear woman whose offered to watch the children twice a month for me to write…

On to the task at hand.

I am in an exhausted daze today.

Not the lack-of-sleep kind, either.  I am simply drained.

It’s been so long since this happened that I was digging for what I used to explain it in the past.

There is a sine wave theory that I used to subscribe to, that any amount of high-energy or “upper” experience would then be followed by a crash of equal extremity.  Once I recognized the pattern I learned to expect it.  And while I never liked the crash I at least wasn’t caught by surprise.

Having this way of thinking firmly embedded led to some surprises as I got older.

For example, I never crashed after my fun times with Jay.  I never consciously came off the high of “the honeymoon phase” after we were married.  And while I get the “I want to get back to my book” and “I want to work on my project” urges, I’ve never had the I need my space moments I’ve read about.

Since being married I’d had so few “dropping” moments that I was near congratulating myself about how “level” I’d become.  Part of me wondered if I should be disappointed I was missing out on some wild “highs” but I was quite happy/content, and figured any more was worth missing if I continued to skip the lows.

Now, from my older-and-wiser perspective (and the little I’ve learned about introverts), with the experience of the last 24-hours fresh in my mind, I think I got it wrong with the sine-curve model.

The perceived high was real– generally supplied from a great deal of mental stimulation and rapid-fire conversation with a group of people.  The following crash, corresponding with what I’m feeling today, was not a whiplash or punishment for having fun, it is simply my inwardly-wired system trying to rebuild after a higher-than usual drain.

My interactions tend to be with one individual or thinking “in well-worn grooves of thought.” Rapid-fire conversation with a number of people, or very long conversations over many topics are exciting to me.  They sort of prove my brain to myself, and I enjoy that; but it’s distressingly similar to over-working your body in Ultimate Frisbee.

~

You don’t just quit because you’re tired or sore– you get the adrenaline (or mental) rush to get through it competently, even well, but you’re gonna feel it the next day.  And I am.

~ ~ ~

I used to think I was very different from Joule– her high-energy, outgoing, never-quit-ness.  But I was wrong.

(Stop laughing.)

Change the tennis ball to an interesting conversation, and I’ll chase it till your arm gets tired without slowing my outrun.  As with Joule it’s the “bringing it home” that will show my weariness.  I’ll attack the idea, catch it up in a neat little package, then forget the point or how to bring it home.

So you’ve been warned.

~

Just now I feel like Joule after one of those outings: flopped out; eyes squinched shut, hoping everybody will choose to step over her rather than make her move out of the way.

And even so, you pull out that tennis ball and the light goes on in her eyes…

I’ve been warned…

This morning was going to be a phone calling day.  I think that will have to wait till tomorrow.

I’ve always loved that “aside” in folktales.  (From Aladdin and the Magic Lamp by Kunstler:)

The magician howled and flew into such a rage the earth shook, and the boulder rolled back into place, sealing Aladdin inside the cave.

Now it can be explained.  This magician was nobody’s uncle at all but merely an evil schemer.  He had selected Aladdin only to help obtain the magic lamp.

~

A smile turned his thin-lipped mouth up at the corners as his bony hand grasped the ancient lamp….  And bidding the princess and her retinue good day he was heard to cackle with strange glee as the massive jade doors were thrown open for his exit.

Now it can be told.  This seemingly selfless peddler was none other the evil magician of Barbary, Africa.

~

It is with relief I may now exhale and say with joy that my family is whole once again.

Jay has been traveling the globe (or, at least the parts of it that lead to Antarctica) for the past four weeks, and I have been dealing with bedbugs, heartsick children, and a sick cat.  Alone.

And yet not alone, because there is always more to do than the emergencies.  What is to follow is the involved saga of the month of single parenting, condensed into a single post in order to spare any faithful readers the agony of being dragged through the content of the past four weeks in real-time.

(more…)

Pictures and odds-ands-ends here.

I am, simply, delighted.

The poignancy of my “last” baby phase passing has begun to hit me, but it’s nothing like I’d imagined.

I’m not craving a baby to hold, or wishing for more of my own. Mostly, I’m pathetically disappointed that my acquired skills in that area are now obsolete.

Isn’t that sad?

I’m convinced now that this is why those irrepressible ladies are always stopping to offer advice or books (oops, that’s me) to anybody they see pregnant or with a tiny baby.

They want to prove to themselves (and anyone else who might notice) that they and the skills they worked so hard for are still relevant.

I’m beginning to accept this passing (as I have no other choice), but it’s made me see why pets as objects of affection and nurture are so popular.

Yes, they are individuals, and they all have varying needs and quirks, but the reality is once you get out of the “baby” stage (and the “adolescent” stage, for some species) you have years of nurturing time that you can do the exact same thing with your critter and continue to meet all its needs.

This is just. not. true. of people. Ever.

Yes, Thorin adds to my work-load. It’s impossible that he couldn’t. But the sweet simplicity of him is a relief.

~

Thankfully, even as my former competencies become obsolete, I can trust that God will give me new competencies.

I’ve said before, when talking about children growing, that there’s always things we’re glad to leave behind.

And I could start thinking that way about skills too.

Yes, I know how to soothe a crying baby, but isn’t life more peaceful when I don’t have to?

It is sad to leave behind that first phase of language where I watched them make the delighted connection between symbol and sound, and enter the big world of communication.

But I leave that behind to enter a world that is filled with learning the substance of conversation and encouragement.

This is beautiful, too, and I will bless the Lord for his goodness— that he will continue to teach me what I need to learn.

We’re adopting.

This is mostly the sort of thing I’d do at my home blog, but since I don’t really get comments there I felt like gabbing here this time.

The other part of my dog’s make-up is some kind of bull-terrier. Probably Staffordshire. I made the choice yesterday (it was the morning of our monthly women’s meeting– this one was a tea workshop/tasting. Fascinating.) to say I had adopted a small lab-mix.

Entirely true, this allowed me to describe my new family member without needing to defend her, or my choice, just yet.

Actually, when I happily shared that I had finally gotten the dog one of the church mothers laughed, and said, “I knew she was either going to say she’d gotten a dog or was pregnant. I guess we’ll have the dog first.”

There is one woman in this group who also has a dog, and she seemed to understand my excitement.

“Amy has been praying about this for a long time,” she pointed out.

In a chicken-or-the-egg manner I wonder if this is why Shadow seems to fit so well– the groundwork laid, or the “right” dog provided/picked.

I suppose it’s a combination, though I like Katz’s observations in that article.

~~~

In getting a pity-lab I decided to “spurn the world’s opinion,” and in describing her as a lab, I am attempting to save us both from general opprobrium.

I think it’s not unreasonable to assume that those who will recognize (or ask about) the pit in Shadow will be close enough also to notice the permeating sweetness of her disposition.

This may only work until the first person meets her, or it may last longer. I just want to do what I can to get her a fair hearing.

It is this pit-ness that makes me ultra-sensitive to how she responds to newness, and other dogs in particular.

~

Shadow seems to be aware of people’s perceptions of her. She has reacted fearfully to the three grown-ups that were apprehensive of her but still tried to interact.

Two of these were my parents, to whom I had/have done my best to explain the solidness and general positivity of the breed locally (we have no dogfighting in our area, so the breed’s popularity is as a pet, and the majority of temperaments are representative of that.)

Shadow was very fearful of them and avoided contact until after we all went on a long walk.

By the end of that, both the dog and my parents seemed to have seen enough to make them all comfortable, and all parted on fine terms.

The most interesting thing to me about that walk was my husband did all the dog handling. A few times he jogged with her reluctant participation.

“This is a great dog to jog with,” he came back to tell us. “Makes me feel really fast: I’m out-running a dog!“

His analysis when we got home:

“I don’t care what her breed is, or how they’re ‘supposed’ to act. She’s done better in two-days with minimal training than [our last lab-mix] did” in four months.

My dog-resistant husband is letting himself be won-over. That is saying a great deal.

I could make a list (but I won’t here) about all the specific ways Shadow is meshing with our family, and they greatly outweigh the small things we’re working around.

As nervous as I feel, and it is just a little (I can’t help it– can one totally ignore the pounding to mistrust?), I see God graciously re-confirming this is a proper match, and want to work carefully to secure that.

I’ve started this post four or five times, and it keeps being more of a laundry-list than anything else.

But:

I now have my dog.

She isn’t vizsla (though she does have the compact, muscular body with the short hair– dark brown instead of russet), and she isn’t a Brittany (though she is that size and already proving quite trainable and perfect with the kids).

I just mention the above because those were the breeds I was researching/pursuing the most recently.
A lab-mix, Shadow displays the best of the mellow of that breed, and has learned since Thursday night several things that are very desirable to our family.

She has even managed to not-bother Jay, though that may be as much to Jay’s credit as the dog’s.

It was Jay who emphasized we shouldn’t consider the animal shelter’s 10-day exchange policy as a trial period.

“I expect the transition to be bumpy,” he said. “So we just need to commit to her and go for it.”

Amazingly, the transition has been rather smooth, so far. The girls are becoming more assertive and Shadow is learning quickly.

The one rough spot we’ve had was Friday night when the neighbor across the street brought her dog over to meet our new arrival. That deteriorated into awful barking from both of them, so we didn’t trust them nearer each other.

We neither of us lost control of our animals, but neither dog really listened to our embarrassed orders to be quiet or “nice” either. We might try again in a week or two, to see if Shadow being more settled will make a difference.

In the mean-time, I’m going to begin classes with her, and I’m hoping the presence of a more experienced dog-person will make a difference in canine introductions. There have been no problems with people.

Both girls have really embraced their role as the dog’s boss (something in question earlier in the week), and Natasha’s favorite thing right now is “walking” the dog– holding her leash and pretending to chose which direction they go in. She frequently tries to “sneak” the leash out of my hand when I’m talking to someone, but I will only let them walk together in the fenced yard.

Sometimes Shadow indulges Natasha’s preference, and sometimes Natasha is reminded the dog is stronger.

It is very fun to watch them together.

But how did I end up in the “international” list for the prize drawing???

Oh dear.

I signed up for last week’s blog party, and like nearly 1000 other bloggers eagerly scanned the list of cool prizes being offered to partygoers. As many of them did, I dreamed up a “wish list” of my absolute favorites, in case I was drawn. I also mentioned I was in Alaska.

~ ~ ~

Here’s a quick reference chart (though it’s largely irrelevant I almost included it as a “public service announcement” in my intro post):

AK is not Arkansas, its Alaska
AR is not Arizona, its Arkansas
AZ is Arizona.

We’re all America, USPS ships to all three, and while mail can take a little longer to get up here, it is not much more expensive.

~ ~ ~

I hope in the future being non-contiguous won’t exclude the 49th state from the awesome prizes offered for American bloggers. (Another idea would be letting small, mailable things like gift-cards be an option for us “INTL” folk)

*sigh*

I don’t mean it in a nasty way. It’s always fun to hear you’ve won something, but this is a little like having someone offer to buy you their favorite painting…

Anyway, had a lovely time cruising new sites during the party, I think I picked up at least two new reads.

And if there is some sadly disappointed INTL blogger who would like my on-line prize-pack, leave a comment (find me a dog if you’re feeling really generous) and we’ll call it even.

I wrote earlier my attempt to explain this desire for a dog, and have continued to pick away at it. I have to admit that part of the reason is this idea that getting a dog symbolizes for me (much as getting a diet book does for other parts of the population) beginning, even enabling, a healthier lifestyle.

Enabling, because I’d be willing to do things I won’t currently, like going out to run alone.

The question, then, is: Is this a good enough reason? I’m praying about that, because, by itself, I tend to think not. But I also think there are other reasons than this.

~~~

So I said last time that dogs that can’t be trusted off-leash were off my list. And, yes, I do have a list.

Actually my desires have shifted between a specific breed, a combination of characteristics, and a breed with those characteristics.

Jay likes the idea of my having a list.

J: Maybe this way we’ll wait longer before getting a dog.
A: Either that, or we’ll know God really wants us to have one.

But my current image, while I have a breed in mind (Brittany), is more about age and accomplishments. I would *love* to find a dog at a similar level of training as the dog we re-homed a year ago.

But here’s what we’ve talked about:

• Running
• Skijoring
• Frisbee
• Tracking

Tracking I haven’t done before, but I think would be really fun. Retrieving is rather a given, like obedience training, since my girls really got into throwing while we had our cat.

Stop it. We did not let them throw the cat.

He didn’t retrieve, of course, but he did chase balls down the hall, to the girls’ great delight.