Words vs. Numbers

I am taking a communications research and statistics class this semester. It's almost the last class I need to get my BA in Mass Communication. I delayed taking it until the end because I really am not good with numbers. (And how I ended up being in charge of family finances is beyond me!) I enjoyed the first part of the class on the theory of research in communication. In fact, I was feeling proud of myself because I got an A on the first test. But now we're heading into the actual math and statistics part of the class, and I'm nervous (actually, terrified is a better word). Which is why entries here may be sporadic until mid-May when I'll be done with this class.
It's interesting to me how genetics works: My grandfather graduated with honors for his masters degree in math from Berkeley during the 1920s. He also taught advanced math and science classes when he was the principal and school superintendent in his small Idaho town. I swear I was somewhere else in heaven when math genes were handed out, but they did end up with one of my sons. Ben is finishing up his masters degree in nuclear engineering and took most of the advanced math classes the university offers.
A few months ago we had a discussion on the relative merits of math and language:
"But math is so logical, Mom!" he said.
All I could say is, "It may be logical to you, son, but it's Greek to me."
When I countered that language is much easier to understand, he brought up all the exceptions to the rules in grammar. I couldn't argue the point.
What I struggle with is all the various formulas that have to be followed exactly in order to come up with the right answer.
We did agree that it's a good thing there are a wide variety of talents and personality types. Can you imagine a world filled only with mathematicians? Or for that matter, grammarians? or artists? or lawyers? or mechanics? or musicians?
David got the results of the blood tests he took last month. He's still low on lithium, so the Dr. increased the dosage. He also added depakote to help with the hallucinations. David is finally going from getting little sleep to having some sleep, and his moods are doing better.
He was a little stressed last weekend when he forgot to take his meds one night. He started obsessing (again) about my health, and what would he do if something happened to me. I would be flattered, except I know it's because he's more concerned about his own welfare than he is about my well-being. It is, however, a good reminder to get our financial house in order. That task is just simply going to have to wait until this math class is done. I can only deal with so much at once!

Time Management

One of the challenges that I struggle with is how to manage my time to get everything done that I would like. I work full time, have a small part-time evening job with David and our youngest daughter, go to school part-time to finish a degree, and try to take care of the house, the family budget, church assignments, etc. And that doesn't even count the other things that I want to do to take care of myself, or even do more research about mental health issues. It's easy to get overwhelmed, and I have to remind myself that I do not need to get every thing done at once, and that it's important to celebrate small successes. I like this reminder found in the Book of Mormon: "And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength." (Mosiah 4:27.)
I read an article about procrastination several months ago, and posted this on my wall: "What's the best thing you could be working on, and why aren't you?"
Sometimes that "best thing" is relaxing and playing. During the last few weeks I have been focusing more on the tasks I need to do during the week, and then slowing the pace down during the weekend. We've been able to visit with our children and grandchildren who live nearby, as well as with our Sailor son and his wife when they came home last weekend.
We also make a point of attending our Sunday church meetings. David goes as often as his health allows, and I go regularly because I have found that it gives me the peace and strength I need for the coming week. I've noticed that his moods aren't as severe during the week when we have a calmer weekend schedule.
I really don't like time management systems; I am a Type B personality and would rather stop and smell the roses than be tied to a hard and fast schedule. For a long time I could hardly even look at a printed day planner, although now I can use one when I absolutely have to.
My first husband loved making schedules and lists, and at one point insisted that I record what I was doing every 15 minutes. It nearly drove me crazy. I had three very young children, and we were living in a small, married-student apartment. I was also struggling badly with post-partum depression, and didn't know what was wrong with me. On one particularly bad day I heard the song "Garden Party" by Rick Nelson. I love the song, and especially related to the line: "You see, you can't please everyone, so you've got to please yourself." I decided that I had had enough of schedules, and threw mine out. It was one of the best things I ever did for myself.
This was before the onslaught of time management systems and day planners. I understand why they are needed, but that doesn't mean that I like them.

The Joys of Grandparenting

We had two of our grandchildren (6-year-old Gabby and her 3-year-old brother Brad) spend the weekend with us. Such fun! We played Barbies and dress-up; David played "tiger" with Brad; we went shopping and bought them a dollar toy at a second-hand store and doughnuts at the grocery story; we made cookies, watched some movies, and read a few stories. We enjoyed their happy chatter, and the sound and energy of small ones running through the house. They were sweet and well behaved; it was just what we needed to bring sunlight into the winter doldrums we had been struggling with. Their tight "squeezes" and "I love yous" made our weekend.
It also reminded me of what attracted me to David in the first place: his way with young children. We met at a singles dance, and decided to meet the next day after work for cokes. I told him I had 3 children and had to pick them up from the daycare first. He said, "They're not brats are they?" I reassured him they were not.
The next day we met at a restaurant, and my 8-year-old twin boys, Ben and Brian, proceeded to tease their 6-year-old sister, Lara, to the point of tears. I ended up leaving him with the boys while I took my daughter kicking and screaming to the ladies room. When we left to go home, David asked me for my number, and I thought, "yeah, sure you'll call." I wouldn't have called me.
Two months later he was cleaning out his wallet, found my number, and on a whim, decided to call. After we laughed about our first "date," we ended up spending a lot of time together, alone and with the kids who hit it off from the start. Two months later we married and began life together as a blended family with Jonathan, Ben, Brian, Lara, Brittany, and Shannon (ages 10 to 4). Later we added Jeffrey and Katie. We also consider Krista, David's ex-wife's daughter, to be one of ours. They are the joy of my life and are worth every last grey hair, and "wrinkly eyes," as Gabby put it when she was making me a "princess."

Beacon of Hope

I don't know the story behind the site Beacon of Hope, or why it hasn't been updated for a long time, but I'm truly grateful the information posted there is still accessible.
I went wandering around the site again recently while trying to figure out how better to cope with David's moods. Several items in the coping section were welcome reminders that I'm not alone in dealing with a mentally ill spouse.
I especially relate right now to the section on "burnout." It's easy to get so involved with the drama surrounding him and his moods/needs/demands that I forget to take care of myself. Last week I made a stab at spending some quality time by myself, and it does help. For me, time by myself is as important as eating and breathing. I don't function very well when I don't have enough time alone to think and dream.
David's moods are still dark, but he finally went to his doctor. He's working with the doctor to adjust his medicine, and he needs to take some more blood tests. We were very lucky to have landed with caring, competent doctors when we most needed one. Last fall we had a Dr.'s appointment that coincided with David having a severe anxiety attack. Our regular Dr. was concerned, talked to the psychiatrist on the staff at the same clinic, and got David in to see him within just a few days. We're grateful for their good care and compassion.

It's been one of "those" months

David's moods often reminds me of winter weather. Like overcast skies and stormy days, his mood lately has been mostly gloomy with occasional patches of light. He's been struggling again with depression, more hallucinations, and an obsession with my body image.
This particular round has also been hard on me, and I realize that I need to explore some better coping techniques. Part of the problem for me has been that daily verbal attacks mostly about my weight, and ongoing financial challenges has taken a toll on my sense of worth.
On days when I wonder how I can keep going, I remember the words of a poem that one of my favorite high school teachers, Richard Pratt, taught me years ago:
I can't—a poor, pale, puny imp
Too lazy to work and from every duty does shirk.
I can—a giant, unbending he stands.
And he can conquer who thinks he can
In spite of the throngs who doubt him.

As with all storms, however, this one seems to be lifting at last, and I see some signs of improvement. Yesterday when I came home from work he surprised me with these flowers! I seldom get flowers, and I especially appreciate these:


It's a welcome reminder that every storm eventually ends.