Grownups

I'm totally stealing this from the comment section of another blog I read. It's a response to someone who said that, as adults, if we liked the subject idea, we can't possibly be "real" adults, and should therefore grow up a bit. Neuffy, the responder, summarized exactly what I thought of this, better than I ever could, so I quote from him directly. Check out the links after the quote to see what he's talking about.

"Neuffy Says:

"The serious work of either a marriage or raising kids?

"Regarding free time: Of course there is copious free time. If you don’t have such amounts of free time, why have you arranged your life that way? From the tone of your comment, it seems that you think those things that are not practical or “serious” are not worthwhile. In my experience, it is precisely those things that are most precious.

"Sure, they aren’t what “grown-ups” do, but that is precisely the point of the comic: “Because we’re grown-ups now, and it’s our turn to decide what that means.” As long as the basic necessities of life are not being neglected (income/sanitation/hygiene/nutrition/etc), then this is the “serious work” of life.

Examples of things that I group in with ball-pits: An afternoon couching. An evening fire with dry ice and water-filled bottles. Fancy dress for a no-occasion dinner out. Snow forts/Igloos. Ticklefights. Lego nights. Dress-up parties. Strange-food dinner (eg. peanut butter pizza). Impromptu public plays.

"The reason this resonates so intensely with such a large number of people is precisely because it involves the kind of life-definition that seems sadly lacking in the archtypes laid out for us as life-models.

"Then again, maybe I’m just baised. My parents were a musician and an artist, and they did what they loved throughout their lives, and managed to raise children while doing so. They didn’t make the kind of sacrifice that it seems is being implied. I’ve also seen what I feel is the near-inevitable end result of self-sacrifice in the name of “maturity”: People who are burnt-out, inactive, have routines and habits set in stone, and really do not take joy from life.

"I know which life I want. I think that this idea symbolizes the choice of favoring strangeness and joy over practicality and seriousness."

Hear, hear!

If you managed to read this far, check out these links:
The comic that started it all.
The Blog to go with the comic that started it all.
A company that installed a ball pit.
And so did Google: Scroll to "Kidtastrophe."

Now, using Xkcd's Ball Pit Calculator, you may all donate to my fund. I need about $5000 to create a ball pit in our spare room.

I'm alive

I'm alive and counting down to next week, but it's making my anxiety attacks worse.

I've been having anxiety attacks right before bed for years. You know the kind I mean - you lie down in bed, last thing in the day, and your brain starts going over things that happened during the day. Suddenly you are cringing at yourself inside. "Why in the HELL did I say that to *HER*? What possessed me to behave in such an odd way?! I wish I hadn't shouted at soandso. Am I doing the right thing by leading my scout troop in to do such and such?"

Ok, so maybe I'm the only crazy person who feels this way at bedtime, I really don't know. It makes it hard to fall asleep, though, so I have gotten into the habit of telling myself little stories at bedtime. I make a conscious effot to push all that anxiety into a little space at the back of my mind, and then I concentrate on my story. I should really write them down at some point, but for some reason, I can't remember them the next morning!

Anyway, the anxiety attacks have gotten worse. I still only have them at bedtime, and I still can push them to the back of my mind. But now I have anxiety DREAMS as well. I woke up one night this week after a dream in which I was upset because - get this - I yelled at my grandmother. I felt so guilty I sat down and cried (in the dream) and then my sister opened all my wedding presents. Ok, it was just a dream, but obviously I am juxtaposing all my anxiety from the day onto family members. In any case, Grandma, I'm really sorry I yelled at you!

I really need to work on controlling my anxiety. Somehow I doubt that waiting on my test results is the true problem. I have a feeling this is a genetic anxiety disorder that I need to learn to live with. I'm like my mother in so many other ways, it's not surprising that I am like her in this, too!