A Primer for Handling Anxiety Attacks

As part of my unfortunate, perpetually-undiagnosed "female complaint", each month at PMS time I do what I call "reaching into the grab bag". The "grab bag" is a hypothetical place filled with the entire list of possible PMS symptoms, which can be found on just about any medical website. I "reach into the grab bag" and I pull out three symptoms more or less at random. Those are the ones I have to deal with for that given month. The symptoms are discarded within a day or two of actual onset of menstruation, and next month I reach in for another three, at random.

This month, I happen to have picked out "anxiety attacks".

Now this is not terribly new for me. I have been officially diagnosed with "Generalized Anxiety Disorder", which basically means that I may get anxiety attacks sometimes for no particular reason. Oh, we are sure that there is a reason. Perhaps there is a hormone drop, or surge, or a neurotransmitter glitch. The problem with finding an intermittent error in any system, as I'm finding with a really bizarre personal computer problem involving a disappearing hard drive, is that if you don't catch the problem in the middle of happening, the diagnostics all check out as normal. Suffice to say that I have identified a few triggers, but have no hopes of catching all of them.

So I have decided to take a moment and create a primer, for family, friends, and whoever might benefit from the information, on how to identify and treat an anxiety attack from the perspective of the sufferer's family member, friend, or whoever happens to be accompanying her when it happens. I am doubly encouraged by a scene the Disney movie Frozen. Anxiety sufferers cringe at the reprise to "For the First Time In Forever", in which Elsa very clearly displays every sign of a physical anxiety attack, and Anna does everything wrong in trying, with an open heart and honest desire to help, to make things better. I know you guys want to help your friend. I'm going to help you figure out how.

Step 1: Identifying an anxiety attack

Anxiety attacks often start with a surge of panic. At this point, I know the feeling well enough that I don't actually feel "afraid", so I could dispassionately describe it as an adrenaline surge. It's the same feeling you get when you are driving down a snowy road, you turn the wheel, and nothing happens. In fact, the entire anxiety attack pretty much follows your physical symptoms after you do something like that. The person may start trembling, sweating, or shivering, may rest her hand near her neck to feel her heart pounding, may blink rapidly, and her breathing will change. If she's a pro at dealing with the attacks, her breathing may become deeper, slower, and more deliberate. If she doesn't have a handle on it, her breathing may become shorter, faster, and shallower. If the attack is severe or she doesn't know how to identify or manage it, she might even start to cry.

There may be no obvious trigger, and anxiety often builds to an attack (secretly and in the background) rather than hitting the rapid onset that you would feel if you had just entered a genuinely dangerous situation. She may have been mall-walking for an hour and a half and suddenly get hit with a full-fledged attack while doing nothing in particular. Even when you have been having anxiety attacks for years and are pretty well used to them, the opening surge still blindsides you.

Step 2: Shift your focus

In the scene from Frozen, the first mistake Anna makes is to assume that Elsa is "afraid", and that figuring out what is frightening her and easing her fears will make her reaction go away. This is actually 100% wrong. Whether the trigger is emotional or physical, the anxiety attack response is utterly and fully physical, and "solving the problem" will do absolutely nothing for the symptoms. In fact, attempting to "solve the problem" will be useless on two fronts: you are repeatedly applying a potential (probably a likely) trigger for the attack, and she is not going to be able to deal with any underlying emotional state in a reasonable manner. If she had an attack of leg cramps, you wouldn't push her to keep jogging while telling her that she can 'get through this'. You'd let her stop until the cramps ease and help her work them out of her leg. You need to do the same thing here.

So the wrong thing to say is, "Are you scared?" or "What are you afraid of?" or "How are things going at home?" The right thing to say is, "Are you having an anxiety attack?"

Now that isn't to say that being a counselor is the wrong thing to do overall. There is obviously an underlying stressor causing the problem, and you might want to talk to her later on and find out if it's emotional. Never do it during the attack, or even in the immediate aftermath. You want to be in "nurse mode" with your friend right now, not "counselor/psychologist mode".

You may have noticed by now that I keep using the phrase "anxiety attack" instead of "panic attack". I almost wish I could invent another word for it. When I have an attack, I am not "panicking". In fact, I'm probably completely calm to all outward appearances. I am having a physical reaction, like cramps or hives. (I am not entirely typical. Usually the person having an anxiety attack will have an emotional reaction as well. In that case... it is still merely a physical, chemical reaction and ought to be treated as one.)

Step 3: Managing an attack

Now that you know that you're dealing with a physical/medical event, you will find it much easier to learn how to treat the attack. The first and best thing to do, especially with someone who has a history of anxiety attacks, is to ask, "What can I do?" and "What do you need?" Then listen. That seems obvious, but in that Frozen scene, it is one thing that Anna does not do. Her sister puts out very clear "back away" signals and even states clearly that she is making it worse, but she just keeps persisting, certain that the Power of Friendship will solve the issue. Some people may feel better if you hold hands, or give a hug, but some will not, and it is neither your fault nor a rejection of you as a friend.

Because I am sensitive in a number of ways I don't understand, I perceive people as if they have 'zones of influence' or 'zones of personality' (commonly called 'auras', mostly in spiritual circles to which I do not belong) extending for a short distance around them. When I am dealing with an anxiety attack, I am managing my own 'aura', doing a balancing act. I do not need your 'aura' getting into my zone and throwing off all my readings. Now that's my personal experience. Frequent sufferers generally already know what works and can tell you what you can do, or just communicate whether they need closeness or space. If you are going to hug or hold hands, for heaven's sake keep yourself calm, because they might be feeding off your mood in hopes of stabilizing theirs.

There are several medical/physical steps that can shorten an anxiety attack. Forcing yourself to breathe deeply and slowly will slow the heartbeat and help kick the body off of its adrenaline surge. Massaging the vagus nerves (roughly where the jawbone meets the ear and just behind it) will also help. You could give your friend a drink and encourage her to sip it slowly once the initial surge starts to recede. Do not give her anything with caffeine in it. She should probably avoid caffeine completely for the rest of the day. Visualization also helps, but it has to be a place that she finds relaxing, not a place that you find relaxing. Though the two may coincide, don't depend on it!

If your friend has a chronic problem, she may have been prescribed medication. Alprazolam (Xanax) is a fairly common "take-as-needed" medication for anxiety attacks. Check the bottle and do her a favor - offer to drive home. Most anti-anxiety medications cause mild or marked drowsiness.

Anxiety attacks typically peak within the first ten minutes and take about a half hour to really resolve. Serious problems like allergic reactions and cardiac difficulties (she might mistake an anxiety attack for either of these, and might even be convincing to bystanders and helpful medical staff) will continue or get worse.

Step 4: Aftermath

Anxiety attacks are like earthquakes. They tire people out, and the larger ones commonly have 'aftershocks'. Your friend might need to cut your trip/visit short, eliminate an event from her schedule, or simply needs to go right home as soon as the symptoms subside. If she decides to power through the rest of the day (whether she powers through or goes home, she is just as frustrated with cutting it short as you are), just keep an eye out and be aware that the attack will have sapped her energy and lowered her ability to cope with stress triggers. If you leave the mall to find that your planned dinner spot is crammed full of noise and bright light, feel free to suggest a different spot!

Basically, just be aware that it is possible to have multiple anxiety attacks in a day, and each one weakens her resistance to the next. If the attack was severe, she might need a couple of days to fully recover.

When the physical effects of the attack have faded away, it may be a good time to encourage your friend to check on her stressors and triggers. Now is the time to find out if she has been facing a bad situation at work, or whether she is just at a bad point in her hormonal cycle. Dealing with the triggers ahead of time will prevent or at least lessen future attacks.

Be patient... anxiety disorders often require lifelong management, like diabetes or Crohn's, and it may be decades in the future (or longer!) before we can even identify the underlying problem, never mind finding a full-out cure. A person with an anxiety disorder can still lead a perfectly fine, happy, fun, fulfilling life, as long as her family and friends can patiently deal with the attacks and move on to the good stuff.

Fairness

When I was pretty young, maybe around that nebulous area from 3rd to 5th grade, my old church had a talent contest. No categories, no rules except, of course, for basic decency... any child who wanted to show up was welcome to come up on stage and do something for the crowd. Prizes were given out. They were pretty dinky prizes, of course, but I wanted one badly.

I was a piano player, and a good one, too. I selected a challenging piece that I loved, something beautiful, and I learned it by heart. I played it over and over. I worked through the rough spots over and over. I mastered that piece and learned to play it with emphasis.

There was another girl in my neighborhood who also played piano. She was a born genius. She was incredibly gifted. She taught herself how to play from a very young age. When she entered the competition, I knew one of the prizes would be hers. On the day of the competition, she played a song that she had written herself.

At my turn, I sat up there feeling nervous as anything, but I made a good start and carried it through brilliantly. I didn't miss a single note. I remembered my emphasis. I picked a darn good song and I played it well. I left the bench knowing that I had done as well as I could have hoped for. As I heard the others, mostly singers, do their piece one by one, I knew I had done well enough for a coveted prize. Most of the singers flubbed their parts. Few were on tune. Some simply got stage fright and refused to perform at all.

Then the prizes were given out. My neighbor got one, of course. The other five or six prizes were handed out among the singers, several of whom had made huge mistakes in their parts. After the show, I asked, politely and curiously, why my piece had not been good enough to merit a prize. I was not being rude or demanding. I was confounded, and I was seeking understanding.

"Oh, you were definitely good enough! But we got together and decided that since there were only two piano players, it wasn't fair to give both of them prizes. There were a lot more singers, so we gave the rest of the prizes among them. It was only fair."

This was my first experience with the term "fair" as it is now used in political discussion, and I learned a great deal. I learned that everything I was taught in inspirational movies and stories did not count. I learned that it didn't matter how much I dreamed, how long I practiced, how hard I tried, or how well I did. A society built on "fairness" could simply decide to deny me anything I earned for relatively arbitrary reasons.

Now I could look back at those cheap silly prizes - my neighbor got a simple curly drinking straw - and laugh that it ever meant so much to me. Truthfully, it didn't matter if the prize was a piece of paper, or simply a verbal "well done". From that day on, I never, ever regarded the argument "it's only fair" with anything but hostile suspicion. And to this day, the easiest way to turn me off to a proposed law or regulation is to use the phrase...

"It's only fair."

What the heck, it's been a month!

I love to write, and I love to write in this blog. However, I just have to come to the conclusion that I will not be able to post daily, and sometimes I might not even be able to post weekly!

On Saturday, I had the pleasure of seeing my brother marry a good woman. My house was Grand Central Station, with several people staying here rather than spending needless money on a hotel room, and several more people meeting up with them to go various places and enjoy various activities. My last houseguests leave today... and then the house will be quiet again.

Even though I am a very introverted person, I also very much enjoy sharing my house and property with other people. When we first bought this place, we felt led by none other than God to make it a pleasant place where other people could find rest. Some people become missionaries, others lead groups, others create new charities... But for every person who goes out there to make something of themselves, you need people who spread the load just a little bit further! For every adventurer, you need an oasis. My husband and I are pretty much devoting our lives to raising our children and maintaining our home in such a way that we can provide an oasis to those who just need a break.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I don't spend enough time pursuing things like writing that 'could make me money someday'. However, I have to keep reminding myself that now, as my kids are young and being homeschooled and we are providing this restful service to those who could use a break, I really am contributing enough to society as it is. The steady, frequent writing will come later.

I still have my entire middle age and elderly years ahead of me.

Expansion desired

When Bernie and I first married, we decided that we would like to have three children altogether. Well, I did the deciding, really. I said I wanted three. He said he definitely at least wanted two. I didn't worry over it. I didn't feel the need to compromise, or debate. I was diagnosed at age 20 with Stage II endometriosis and I didn't even know if I could have children.

My husband's mindset changed with the birth of our daughter. Oh, he was very happy and helpful with the birth of our son, but it was a stressful time for us, financially, and that gave him worries about how he was going to care for his family. Now he's settling into a more secure position, and we're doing alright. Before our daughter, he said he definitely wanted one or two children. Now he joins me in saying that he definitely wants three... maybe even four!

When we purchased this house, it must have seemed silly for a young couple to pick up a four-bedroom bi-level. This house is both big and small at the same time. It's a very good house for people. It can hold probably five, maybe even six at the peak of its comfort level. We bought it knowing that we wanted several children, and we still do.

Of course, then reality intrudes. I had to work full-time while my husband dealt with an education issue and got himself a steady job that allowed me to return home. I was under tremendous stress and could not carry a pregnancy. Thanks to that, the age gap between my son and daughter is greater than I'd hoped. They are six years apart. I'm starting to creep close to age 35, when fertility drops and pregnancy starts becoming dangerous.

We still want a third baby.

Those of you who read this and pray, do pray that it may be in God's will to bless us a third time. We are doing what we can, and it's way too early to think that we might be having any difficulty, as we're only on our second cycle of attempting. But do please feel free to pray. Sooner is better, in my opinion, but I will take what God gives me, when He gives it to me, and have faith.

I do believe that God did not give us a four-bedroom house just so that we could have two children and then stop.

Yay for snow days!

Yes, I did want to update this blog daily this year if I could, with the exception of Sundays. Yes, I didn't update on Wednesday. Yes, I'm going to backdate this entry to fill it the gap.

So what happened?

In Connecticut, we broke our record for the greatest amount of snow in a 24-hour period when 18-24 inches (depending on location) fell around the state, with some places totaling 30 inches altogether. At my home, we got an even 20.

My son went out playing in the snow with my mother. I didn't take my daughter out at all, but she's going out in it today now that the driveway is plowed out. See, yesterday, the snow was as high as she was and there was simply no place for her to walk!

How did we weather the storm? Well, I always keep a good supply of food on hand, because my area is sufficiently rural that going out to the store all the time is a real pain. Our power went out, but my electric company deserves great praise for fixing it pretty promptly. They had trucks out within an hour and fixed the problem an hour and a half after it went out. This is good for us, because we have no source of heat that is not electric-dependent. We have an oil furnace that is lit, not by pilot light, but by electric spark.

Our gorgeous little bi-level doesn't really have room for a woodstove, or you'd better believe I would have one in this house. I know how to deal with woodstoves. I grew up with one. Unfortunately, we are going to have to find some other method by which to (someday) heat our home when the power goes out. I believe our best bet now is to find a generator, as that would give us water as well.

And now for something completely different...

I woke up to about two or three inches of new snow on the ground this morning. I was happy to see it. We've got a couple more inches coming down tonight, and the next storm may hit us on Wednesday of next week. Out here on the East Coast, we don't get the kind of crazy snow they get in the Northern Mid-West of the country, but it's enough to please me.

I live in a bi-level. Bi-levels are commonly called "raised ranches", but they aren't actually a genuine raised ranch. A ranch is a simple house design that clusters the kitchen, living room, and dining room close together at one end of the house and extends the bedrooms down a hallway in the other half. A raised ranch is one in which the front door leads to a full staircase, with the kitchen/living/dining area and master bedroom upstairs. Ground floor is usually made up of a den, possibly another bedroom, and sometimes garage space. A bi-level is half-and-half, with the door opening into a very small landing with half a staircase leading up to the kitchen/living/dining/bedrooms and the other half leading down into a floor that is halfway below-grade, usually with full or nearly-full windows that hover only a few inches off the ground outside.

If architecture of houses interest you half as much as it interests me, here's a link to an explanation of the bi-level. It's really a pretty common house type in my area, if you own a house that was built less than 50 years ago.

The link explains that some bi-levels are luxury, but most are 1,000-1,500sqft cozy homes that make the most of their space. Mine would fall into the latter category. The bedrooms are quite small (compared to older Colonials or Victorians, and compared to modern non-ranch homes). It suits me, though deep in my heart I still favor the Colonials and Victorians for their vintage flair.

I'm in a fairly rural area. Well, it depends on your definition of rural. People who live where the nearest town is 50-100 miles away and the nearest neighbor is 3 miles away think I'm positively urban. People who live within 5 miles of the grocery store and 1 mile of the gas station on a half-acre lot think I'm practically a forest creature. My own home sits on four acres of very beautiful Southern New England woodlands with wetlands adjoining.

So when I see snow outside my bedroom window, I see it lining every intricate branch of the multitude of trees outside. And that's just the way I like it.

Starting 2011: An Introduction

Obviously I'm not one to give out a lot of personal data over an unsecured blog, but I thought those of you who follow this might be interested in knowing a little about who I am. My little side paragraph basically says it all, but I'll expand on it just a little bit with the parts I don't mind sharing.

I'm in my early 30's, a homemaker with a bachelor's degree in Computer Science. I worked about eight years or so in the field before retiring to, in my opinion, a better one. My husband has a matching degree (same colleges and everything!) and he's in the field providing for all of us. He's an easy-going, friendly guy who works hard and faithfully.

We have two children, an eight-year-old boy and a nearly-two-year-old girl. I'm homeschooling the boy, who is now in second grade and doing very, very well. He's a good kid. The girl is cute as a button, bright and friendly and very funny.

I live in a rural part of Connecticut, in a bi-level house that is modern-style interior with a fake vinyl Grecian-Roman facade in the middle of the woods. Part of my life is the constant struggle between my OCD packrat behavior and my deep desire to see the house divested of anything that does not have sufficient beauty and purpose.

My life is a curious mix of modern tech and old-style homespun. I like to sew, though I'm really bad at it, and I make most of my food from scratch. On the other hand, I'm a computer gamer and have a machine I built myself with a quad-core processor and 1GB of video RAM. My favorite kitchen device is my stand mixer, and I try to plant a vegetable garden each year, though nothing yet has given me a decent yield except for the tomatoes.

What kind of things might you read on this blog? One day I'll be talking housekeeping, while another day I'll have politics on my mind. Politics, religion, homemaking, all the spheres of my life are intricately interconnected.

If you've read any of my old posts, no doubt you already know that I am a Christian and a conservative. The former informs the latter. What does that mean? Well, for one, when I criticize big government, I am more likely to add in the role of the individual and the church in a properly-functioning society. Some conservatives and libertarians speak as if government and society is the same thing. I believe that it is not.

Anyways, that's enough talk for today. I'm going to try to post more often. We'll see how it goes.

New Year’s Resolution: 1920x1080

Each year I re-resolve several things, but this year I’m going to repeat my little ritual and re-resolve them once again.

Why do I do this to myself?

Well, though I fail to hit my target each year, I do come closer to reaching it. My house is cleaner today than it was last year on this date. My weight is closer to normal. I have made the greatest leaps and strides in my writing. So here I go again, with the same New Year’s Resolutions as ever before, and one of them, of course, concerns this blog and me posting in it more often.

Resolution 1: Writing more
I made leaps and strides here, when I decided to join in the NaNoWriMo challenge (lovingly nicknamed “Cain’t Write No Mo’” about halfway through) and finish the first draft of a book I had outlined some time ago. I discovered that I was capable of putting 2,000 words on a story each day, no matter how I was feeling or how inspired I was. My challenge was to see if I was a writer, not only in good times, but also in bad. I succeeded.
I put aside the draft for the entire month of December, but in January I want to turn out my first-edited form for family and friends to read, with an eventual goal of publication. For 2011, I also want to turn this blog into something people will actually come back to read and, you know, find new stuff *to* read. I’d like to post in it at least weekly, at most daily.

Resolution 2: Clean my house
My house-decorating philosophy is actually quite simple. I am a fan of all that is useful and beautiful. If it is beautiful but not useful, or if it is useful and not beautiful, I am more likely to want it gone. Sounds simple enough, right? Unfortunately, I am also OCD and a bit of a packrat. I have so many things I want gone that I have never been able to rid myself of.
I have a genuinely nice house that would have all the room I needed if we would only get rid of the things we don’t use/like/need.

Resolution 3: Stick to my proper weight
I’m really not that bad off. I picked up an extra 10-15lbs during my second pregnancy, and they just haven’t come off yet. Actually, I began this year 15lbs up and ended it 10lbs up, so I am honestly getting myself back into shape. This goal I’m not too worried about, not just because I think I can do it, but also because it isn’t really all that important to me.

Will this be “my year”?
To be honest, I will be happy even if I make a small gain in each goal. Best case scenario will find me, on December 31st, 2011, reporting that my house is clutter-free and my first novel has been published, and that my BMI has gone from 25 to 22.5.

Plenty

I did laundry today. I hung sheet sets and jeans/pants on the line and did underwear and the smaller stuff in the dryer. Not as economical as hanging everything out, I know. Still, this middle-of-the-road solution works for me. As I finished putting the clothes away, I got a sense of well-being. I do enjoy having the laundry done, for the same reason why I love foodshopping. I get a deep satisfaction from seeing my house set up with plenty. Not wastefully huge, not scarce... just plenty. I know my husband would give me an odd look if I demanded that he come and see my 15-month-old daughter's dresses all hanging neatly in the closet, so I will show it to my readers instead.

Since my family is a classic single-income homeschooling family, we don't exactly have a lot of clothing money. I shake my head incredulously when I hear of women going to the store and spending $200 on clothing as if it's nothing. So how did I manage to glean such a lovely wardrobe? Well, "glean" is a good way of putting it.

Back in the Old Testament days, according to the laws of Ancient Israel, you were told to only harvest your field once. Instead of picking over it again and again to garner every grain and every fruit, you needed to leave it alone for the poor, the widows, and the orphans. This was an interesting kind of 'welfare program' unlike most common systems in that it required the recipients to work for their gain. Look in the book of Ruth to find a story of a widowed woman patiently gleaning leftover grain in order to feed herself and her mother-in-law.

My church has a giveaway room, and my aunt has kept the pretty dresses that family members sewed for her daughters. My stepmother-in-law also keeps an eye out for pretty things at yard sales. Through these sources, I have patiently assembled my daughter's wardrobe. The things you don't see hanging are the 2-3T dresses that I have folded and put in a box for next year.

Making plenty from little can be done, but it does take patience and foresight. I need to be willing to pick up items that I don't need right away. I need to have enough skill with a needle to repair discarded outfits with very little wrong with them besides a lost button or burst seam. I need to be vigilant and creative. My reward is that lovely closet full of little hanging dresses that my girl hugs in delight when I present them to be worn.

Does my post have a point? It has several, which is why this isn't really a proper Article Post of the sort that I usually write. For now, though, I just want to focus on that happy feeling I get when I see "the plenty" in the wardrobe, and how fulfilling my job as a homemaker in a frugal household can be.

Maybe you'll get a picture of my garden vegetables another time.

Personal News: Update

For those of you who only read this blog and have been wondering, I had my baby on April 2nd. She had the cord around her neck, probably as a result of the version, but the capable doctor and midwife untangled her right away and she started breathing on her own.

She's perfectly healthy, 8lbs 13oz at birth, and already sleeping a 5-6hr stretch during the night. I'm still technically in post-partum recovery and doing alright. Of course I think she's the prettiest baby ever!

So in the midst of diapers, nursing, and juggling the schedules of homemaker, mother-of-infant, and homeschooling mother... I return to my blog.

Personal news!

I don't usually post news about myself on this blog. I usually reserve it for my political and religious rants. Still, I thought I might give my few readers an idea of what's going on with me, as well as a good reason why I haven't said much here lately.

As some of you might know, I am pregnant and due April 4th, though the baby might come earlier or later, as babies generally do. I have the feeling it'll be by the end of March, as she's been dropping a little over the past few days. Yes, the baby is a girl.

At my 35 week appointment she turned out to still be breech. The doctor had some concern, but not a great deal, as she still had room to turn around. When she was still breech at 36 weeks, though, he gave me my options. I could wait and see if she was going to turn. If she turned, all would be normal, but if she remained breech, I would have to have an emergency Cesarean. I could, if I chose, simply schedule a Cesarean right then and there. His third option, though, perked my interest. He proposed we simply turn the baby.

The ECV, or External Cephalic Version, used to be a common way of trying to deal with breech babies, especially before c-sections became safer than a breech delivery for the baby. Recently, as the U.S. and Britain have tried to cut down on their prominent (many other civilized countries say 'excessive') use of the c-section, the procedure has been coming back into vogue. My doctor tends to be on the leading edge of any and all technologies that reduce or eliminate the need of heavy medical intervention.

So I agreed to the procedure, and it was done last week. At the hospital, under careful monitoring, he rhythmically pressed and rubbed on my belly to coax the baby (without forcing her) to do a 180. It's done at a hospital because there is a 1% chance that the procedure will break your water and force you into labor. Luckily, my doctor is very good at his work. When she didn't turn, he had my bed tipped backwards with my feet in the air and tried again. This time she went for it. He told me that the way I was shaped and the way she was lying, she probably didn't have the room to turn her own self, which was good news. It meant she probably couldn't turn back.

Today I went for a fetal monitoring appointment. Now that this ECV has been done, they want to monitor her weekly just to make sure everything's alright. There is always the possibility that turning the baby has bent or crimped the umbilical cord or damaged the placenta somehow, and that would show up as distress in the baby's heartbeat. She has been verified as of today's appointment to be entirely healthy, and a short ultrasound confirmed that she not only has not turned back to breech, but is dropping into head-down position and can't go back now.

So some time in the next few days, weeks, or possibly up to one month (but not beyond), I am going to go into labor, go to the hospital, and have this baby. Thanks to my doctor's wisdom (and my own willingness to go along with something that hurt nearly as much as labor), it should be a regular, low-risk birth. Needless to say, that will result in another long period in which I will not be writing on political or religious matters. Until then, you might still hear from me! But if you don't, I have the feeling you will no longer be wondering why.

Reconfiguration

I am going to take a few days for contemplation, and then I am probably going to change the title of my blog. I am probably not going to change it's current purpose.

The current title is The Determined Homemaker, which very deeply fit my purpose when I wrote it. At the time, I had just quit my full-time job, which I had taken on very reluctantly when my husband was laid off. With hidden tears and stress levels high, I left my one-year-old son and set out to keep food on the table as a software engineer at a local defense contractor. Depending on the way I look at it, this was either a complete failure or a success.

I managed to hold out for three years while my husband fast-tracked full-time to his bachelor's degree, giving him the standing needed to make the needed salary for me to return home. On the other hand, I got very sick with several neural and intestinal problems, and it took me a good year or so to really regain my health again, and on top of that I kept getting poor performance reviews. When I'm working as a programmer, I'm a very good coder. I am not a data-entry whiz (numbers dyslexia). I'm not a manager. I can teach and tutor readily, but I have to be given a class and subject. I can't just go walking about and Know.. or Find Out.. what people need to know. In short, I was, as I often am, a square peg in a world full of round holes. If they'd expected me to build an application, they might've thought I was a genius. They wanted me to psuedo-manage data entry personnel, and I was a complete flop.

I'm still dealing with the self-esteem fallout from that fiasco.

I suppose I've spent the last year trying to prove that I'm a good enough homemaker to justify being a pretty bad Extrovert Psuedo-Manager Career Woman. The time for that is over. I don't know how I'm going to move past it, but I know I need to. Of course I'm going to keep being a full-time homemaker. But I need to stop stressing over my societal/financial worth. I've been trying to pare down my hobbies to nothing that is not highly-potentially financially profitable, so that I end up doing nothing but either homemaking or doing something that will or might land me a check, however small. That can't be my life anymore.

All these books and essays and such about finding your purpose in life seem to assume that you are supposed to pick and focus in on one single thing only that lights up your eyes, that you are drawn to naturally. What if there's more than one thing? Is it truly a waste to do something you enjoy but will never be good at? I've got some questions to answer in the coming days. It may be that my year, rather than being what I've got when I answer them, will simply be about finding the answers.

Meanwhile, I anticipate that I will continue to write religious and political essays in this blog, peppered with things I've discovered or done as a homemaker/homeschooling mom. And in time, we'll see how this blog changes as I do.

Thanks for reading!