Swimming and Running

My hand slashes through the water. My feet kick behind me, propelling me forward. My head turns, rising up to take a breath.

I continue on until my hand touches the wall. I could grab the wall and hold on. Or I could turn, pushing off and moving forward. I choose to turn.

The wall approaches again. And again I choose to turn. Touching the safety of the wall, letting go, turning back to the water.

My body begins to tire. My resolve begins to falter. My mind starts to scream. "This is not normal. This is not safe. There is nothing holding you up. You are not a creature of the sea."

The water is not real. It is not solid. It cannot hold me. Panic sets in.

I try to fight my mind. I try to continue on. I thrash and kick out of control. My chest tightens. My pulse quickens. My heart thumps so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I lift my head trying to take a breath but there is not enough air. My hands frantically search for the wall but it lies just out of reach.

My foot hits the ground. The ground is solid. It is real. One foot, then the other, hitting the ground and pushing off, propelling me forward.

I look up and see the sky. I look down and see the ground. It is solid. It is real. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

Around me are signs of life. Grass, plants, dirt, the smell of the earth. Buildings, cars, concrete, the smells of civilization. A squirrel darts in front of me, looking frightened before it escapes to the safety of a tree. A dog spies the squirrel and strains on its leash, struggling to pull free to chase the squirrel. The hand at the end of the leash pulls back, straining to control, to regain their rhythm. We pass and smile, connecting with each other, connecting with the earth.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

My mind does not struggle here. The sound of my footfalls, the feeling of connecting with the earth brings a clarity. I breathe in the fresh air. Each breath bringing the peace I have longed for.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

I have been swimming lately. Some days all I do is swim, struggling to reach the shore. Swimming in my kitchen, swimming at the store, swimming in my sleep. Too much swimming. An endless pool, river, lake, ocean.

I choose not to swim anymore. I choose to run.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

I'm Never Leaving the House Again

Lately I've noticed that Bunny is perfectly content to stay at home in her pjs all day. She wants to play with the horses (the dinos haven't come out of their cave in a few days), dance to the Bushel and Peck song, paint and color with markers. If this were the sum total of her world she would be content.

Of course there would be the occasional forays to Ama and Baca's house and to Starbucks. Because that is fun. If I mention we have music class or play date. She says "no I wanna stay home". We still go out, but she's not really happy to leave. She's fine once she's out, its just the leaving that's hard. This is probably due to the influx of new stuff from Christmas, Hanaukkah and her birthday. There is so much to play with that she really doesn't get bored.

But some of it is also that new kids hold no interest for her. She will play with the kids at music class and play group because she knows them. But story time and other activities don't really go over too well. She even wants to skip her beloved open gym time because there are too many kids.

So what's a mom to do? I am considering forcing the issue and sending her to pre-school/day care one morning a week. This is something I never would have done a year ago but I think she needs to be around other kids on a more regular basis. It would help prepare her for pre-school in the fall.

But this decision is causing me some anxiety because I know it will cause her some. Trips to the gym daycare have resulted in so much crying that I have been summoned from my work out to comfort her. While I know this would only be temporary, that she would get over it, it still makes me reconsider the whole plan.

So faithful readers, what would you do in this situation?

The Trouble With Cats

You're probably thinking "Great another post about her stupid peeing cat." But no, this is actually not about cat pee at all. If you would like to read about cat pee, check the archives. I'm sure there's one or two posts about it.

A while back I mentioned our other cat Detroit who is kind of evil because she likes to bite. She is half-Siamese and I believe its a Siamese thing, rather than an evil thing. But she bites if you approach her wrong, get anywhere near her face or just generally annoy her in any way.

When we adoped Bunny I was worried about how Detroit would react to Bunny. Would she try to attack her to establish dominance? Would she bite my sweet baby?

My fears were unfounded for the first two years. Detroit was terrified of Bunny. She didn't quite know what to make of this creature that had invaded her home. At first Bunny would crawl after her so Detroit would run away. This became standard operating procedure, Detroit saw Bunny coming toward her, Detroit would run away.

As Bunny got older, we warned her not to pet Miss Troit as she called her. She could pet Tabasco all she wanted but not Miss Troit. So she didn't. You could tell Bunny was curious but she listened and avoided her.

Until last week. Last week there was an "incident". Apparently Detroit had wandered into the living room and was laying on the back of the love seat. Bunny was playing with dinosaurs on the love seat too. I was in the kitchen making dinner and Bubs was sitting on the other couch talking on the phone. No one noticed Detroit at first.

But then Bunny saw her and decided to pet her. She lifted her little hand directly towards Detroit's head in clear violation of the established petting rules. Detroit did not like that one bit. So in an attemtp to protect herself from the "creature" she bit her on the hand.

Lucky for Bunny she had only one little mark (not like the fang marks I got last time). But that was enough for her. Now Bunny is terrified (or at least dramatically scared) of Detroit.

When she sees her, Bunny will scream "No Miss Troit" at the top of her lungs. Or she will let loose with one of those high pitched screams that only toddlers can make. This usually does the trick and the cat high tails it out of there. But if she does not move and dares to remain in the same room, Bunny will stand there whining for us to carry her past Detroit.

Clearly this cannot happen. We cannot have a child so scared of a cat that she will avoid entire rooms because the cat is there. So we hold her hand and march past the cat in an effort to show her that Detroit will not jump out and bite her again. Bunny has now gotten to the point that she can walk on the other side of the room from the cat. But she will not take her eyes off of her just to make sure nothing will happen.

We try and reassure her that Detroit will not attack. That in fact, Detroit wants absolutely nothing to do with her. That she only wishes to go back to their previous relationship of complete and utter indiference.

It may take a while but I hope we get there. I can't take any more trouble with cats.

Anxious

I walked into the living room, my chest felt heavy. I sat down on the couch by myself but I was not alone. A feeling of dread enveloped me. My heart began to race and pound like it was going to come out of my chest. My mind began to jump from thought to thought, my mood darkening.

I was panicking.

I could see my daughter playing with her dinos on the floor. "What you doing, momma?" She brought Giganta over to say hi. He started to climb all over me, up my arm and onto my head. It was the connection I needed to break out of this. I reached past Giganta to hug my daughter. She was real, she was true, she was everything in the world.

After she struggled out of my hug and ran to pick up Deltadromeus and Allosaurus, I started calming down. I steadied my breathing and tried to clear my head. The more I breathed and focused on what was important, the slower my heartbeat became. My mood lightened, the dread began to losen its hold.

I had to get moving to get away from this feeling. I grabbed Bunny and the stroller and we headed out. As the fresh air entered my lungs I could sense that everything would be alright. We walked the river trail, picking wildflowers and watching bees. We saw the ducks swimming. Bunny was in heaven. "Look momma. Look at the ducks. I want to buy a boat." This was real and true. This is what was important.

This was my first panic attack in years. I used to have them all the time but I learned how to handle stress. I learned how to avoid them. But lately I've been overwhelmed. I've been stretched too thin. I know I need to let go of some of these things to focus on what is important.