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Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Out of the frying pan...

..and right into the damn fire. That's what life has felt like lately. No matter how hard I've tried to turn down the heat, it just seems to have a life all it's own. I've tried to create a gourmet meal, but for some reason, there've been too many cooks, and WAY too many ingredients. It just hasn't gone by the recipe. I'm overextended, overtired, overworked, over-overed. On top of everything else, the loss of cherished loved ones too close together (or at all) has just thrown me off kilter and I'm having trouble finding my feet.

I've spent nearly two weeks in complete darkness; trying hard, but barely holding it together. Sure, I'm going through the motions. I'm smiling, I'm functioning, I'm going to work, I'm caring for the family. But as I've said to a few dear ones who have been lovingly checking on me, I'm "functionally dysfunctional". Still, I can honestly say I'm doing the best I can. From the outside, you'd never know. In fact, the people at my work think I'm about the cheeriest person you'd ever want to know. I always wondered where my girls got their gift for acting because I tell people it couldn't possibly come from me. Maybe I'm wrong after all.

So, I could type away and lament the recent moving in of that dreaded depression bitch and all the crap she brought with her. But, I'm doing my best to concentrate on the joys. If nothing else, I have a sense of guilt that I haven't filled this page with the really wonderful parts of what makes my world spin. So quickly, I'm going to ignore the "Uglies". The people, events, and situations that have done their best (in my opinion, which of course, is momentarily warped) to make my life difficult. For the moment, I turn away from negativity, harsh co-workers, sometimes ungrateful children, and most especially illness and death. For the moment, I embrace the good and find joy in the journey.

Averie's play; "'Night, Mother" opened last week. It was a departure for the girl who fully lives in bringing laughter. She's the Princess of Comedy, but she put down her septre to give us the full range of her dramatic talent. I have to tell you, seeing as I'm in the dredges of a royal funk, this play was a tough one for me to get through. But I can't get over how amazingly talented my daughter is. I was blown away by her ability to portray the great pain of her character and play off the even greater pain of her character's daughter. I really believed that this 19 year old young woman was an elderly mother, haunted by her past mistakes and desperately trying, much too late, to heal her child's emotional wounds. I was as much moved, as equally proud. At the end, when the lights dimmed, nothing was heard for a few moments before the thundering applause but the audience's sobbing. A great indication of a successful show.

On the high school front, Caris and her friends excitedly prepared for the annual Sadie Hawkins dance. The theme this year; "Shipwreck Sadie's." Wanting to be original, and knowing that most of the kids would be dressing as pirates and the like, she and her posse decided that they would go with a beachy, SoCal theme and go as lifeguards. Their dates would be "drowning victim wannabes". Original, huh? *wink* The house has been aflurry with t-shirt painting parties and red sequin sew-ons. It's hard to imagine that someone can be suffering from depression amidst all this teenaged excitement. As I watched them giggle and paint and talk about their goofy dates, I wondered what I could possibly have to be sad about. It's good medicine to be around such exuberance. Quite contagious, honestly. And soon, I was caught up in the wave, yet again; giggling and painting away.

Coach Bryson has had two games since taking on the hockey world as a mentor. It's different to see him on the playing surface without his skates on..shouting the plays instead of executing them. The boys on the team, all of them 4th graders some of whom have never played before, seem to like him and do their best to do exactly as he asks them. He loves hearing them call him "Coach". They haven't had a win yet, but that's just not important in the middle of all this fun. It's all good in the world of puck.

When I'm stuck in the funk scrum, I keep telling myself to concentrate on these things. Like my son says; "Get it out of there Mom! Get it out of there!" How can I not?


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