The Funk Stops Here!

Queen Me shares ...

Okay, here's the deal. I've been in a funk lately. Not sure what's going on ... but, something is in the air. First, I had to say goodbye to some friends. Ouch. Whine. Boo hoo. Next, I had to handle another situation (work related) that made me whine and moan some more.

Then, I'm sitting here wondering what to do next. It's interesting. And even though I'm not too keen on sharing this ... well, I'm going to anyway.

For four years I've been writing this book. Four years! And, then suddenly the book is gone. Bye, bye. Remember the zap. Well after the zap, I experienced a little snap, crackle and pop. But now I'm simply trying to figure out what to do next.

I know what I'm going to do. So, saying "trying to figure out" isn't exactly on target. It's a matter of re-focusing. Creating a plan. Focusing on the plan and then you know, taking action.

I was hoping the Queen-zine article I wrote for this week's Queen-zine would be my ticket to "getting there", but then I realized it wasn't time yet to write the "focus" article. That topic is actually scheduled for next week. Heck, the timing of the column is really a good thing—especially for the reader. Surely, it's better to write about focus once I'm back in focus. Ha!

Today, I gave myself permission to take more time off. But before doing that I had to wrestle with myself. "You don't have time." "Are you crazy?" "Only self indulgent or depressed people would think about crawling back into bed." But the voice of reason won ... my heart (oh yes, My Good Witch Glinda). Turned out it was only half a day because I had some telephone interviews scheduled. But still that time allowed me to regroup. No, what it really did was allowed me to rest. I intentionally kept my mind away from "work". Previously, I told you that my work is play. Well ... in most cases that is true. But this week my "work" has felt like work. And, that's what I am going to figure out, process and then write about next week or maybe the next.

Okay, so there is some good news. It's so nice to have a purpose:).

As I come to grips with myself this week ... maybe my "grips" will help you later.

Have a wonderful week. And may the Queen Power force be with you.

Reflective Queen

Queen Me shares ...

In less than a week, I will say goodbye to some dear friends. I’ve known them for almost a year and a half and am saddened by the need to do this. But, do it I must. Discovering my friends in the fall of 2003 was indeed divinely inspired. I needed to meet them. I needed to be with them. But, mostly I needed the smiles, laughter and warm embrace they offered to me. Hopefully, I gave them at least just a little of what they gave me. But, I will probably never know.

Anyway, I must now say goodbye, but not without a heartfelt thank you.

And, Still Reflecting …

One goodbye that I can’t seem to say, though, is a goodbye to Sugar. I know. I am on such a roller coaster ride with this sweet girl. After a frantic e-mail to her former Foster Mom (oh, about this time last week), I’ve been riding high again.

Sugar wants so desperately to please us. As a result, she quickly stopped snapping at my daughter. This experience reminds me of how I viewed myself when I was a first time mother. Overwhelmed and panicked, I truly wondered how I would be able to do THIS for the next twenty years? And, that’s where my logic was flawed. Of course, I wasn’t going to be doing THIS for that long. I was only going to be doing the infant stage for a year and then the toddler stage for a limited amount of time. The stage when I breastfeed and didn’t sleep wasn’t going to last forever. Oh, it most certainly felt like it would at the time, but reality painted a completely different picture—one I simply couldn’t see.

Well, along comes Sugar. And, I guess I had forgotten this little lesson. Because, I mistakenly took the same view when we adopted our rescue dog. I would throw up my hands in disgust, “She’s never going to be housebroken,” or “She’s going to howl all night for the rest of my life!” I also felt like I was suffocating. She needed me so much. Sugar followed me everywhere and always had to sit right next to me. So, I awfulized about it. Awfulizing is a term used by best selling author and speaker Joan Borysenko, Ph.D. It’s creating something really awful, scary or upsetting out of nothing. It’s imagining all these terrible things that are happening now or in your future. I mean, I literally thought: She’s going to be needy for the rest of her life, which means I will never have any peace!

Of course, I was completely off base. Sugar doesn’t howl anymore, rarely has an accident and doesn’t feel the need to follow me around. And, my now seven-year-old daughter no longer needs my constant attention. I don’t have to pump breast milk anymore nor do I change diapers. Sleep. That’s something I get plenty of now unless an attack of growing pains strikes.

The Reflection Continues …

Very recently, I had to deal with a situation that troubled me. And, again, I awfulized. I poured so much energy into the situation that I’m sure I made it grow and grow and grow. Well, at least I made it grow in my imagination. And, in my awfulizing way, I assumed if a few people thought a certain way, then surely everyone else did too. Yep, that’s awfulizing. “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, and I guess I’ll go eat worms.” I call it being “slimed”. Because when the slime finds me (the good opinions of others that’s critical or judgmental), it usually sticks. No matter how hard I try to avoid it or wipe it off, I can’t. It always lands on me. I see it coming and instead of stepping aside, I stand front and center. I take it right in the face.

So, here’s my pledge. I’m tired of accepting slime. Not only that, I tired of wallowing in the slime. And, I’m not going to do it anymore. The SLIME stops here.

Do I really get it? I sure hope so. Because (and I guess only time will tell), but experiencing the slime and then finally understanding that I will refuse to participate made me recognize how far I've come and that I'm no longer willing to go back to the old way of dealing with it.

Today, I start a new path—and take one step closer to living a more truthful and authentic existence. I’ve been talking about it for years. I’ve been dancing around it for years. Of course, as I write this … I’m also a little fearful because now that I’ve taken a stand … doesn’t that mean a test will follow? Hhhhhmmmm. Alrighty, bring it on! I’m ready.

ER, But First Some Sugar

Queen Me shares . . .

I'll start with the Sugar. Oh, I am so torn. Sugar and I are still struggling. She's a difficult dog to housebreak. And, she's been snapping at my daughter. Of course, since my daughter is seven, I'm sure there are times a dog might need to snap at her. But, so far, when it has happened I am there and don't see any reason for the aggressive behavior.

Since I'm almost at the end of a dog rope, I welcome your suggestions. Help me keep her, please!
Okay, now that my pity party and whining fest are over, let's move on to the real reason you clicked on this blog.

Our Very Own ER

Friday night my daughter told me she didn't feel well. Her throat hurt and she felt a little warm. Trying to make light of it, she promised to be well by morning. Around 6:00 a.m. the next day, she asked to join us in bed claiming she didn't feel well. A quick kiss to her forehead told me she had some fever. We both slept a few more hours and then started our regular Saturday. We didn't have plans because I was working on the Grab the Queen Power manuscript. All day she maintained a low-grade fever, but other than that seemed to feel okay. Not one to sit still for long, she was bouncing off the couch and around the room to entertain herself. She even has a name for it: The Thinking Game. She called all her neighborhood friends to tell them she couldn't play, occasionally watched TV and for the rest of time talked to me about dolls, horses and dreams.

Around 6:00 p.m., I called my husband to suggest we order out. Since Addy and I had talked about it earlier, she was thrilled that I had chosen her favorite restaurant, El Vaquero. "Mama, I want sopaipillas!" If you don't know, that's a dessert item—a puffy, crisp, deep-fried bread dipped in cinnamon. It's very good:). Thirty minutes later, I placed the order and as I was ordering the coveted sopaipillas my daughter whispered hoarsely, "Mama. I don't want any."

Clue number one! Addy never turns down sopaipillas.

By 9:00 p.m. Addy felt worse. The speed and force of her infection scared me. All day she had been fine and then suddenly, she was not! What started as a low-grade fever and sore throat quickly changed to burning up and barely breathing. We quickly discussed our options while I also tried to remain calm and make sure we were making the right choice, you know not overreacting. For a very brief moment, I tried to find my center. You know, a place that would help me have rational and unemotional thoughts.

"Mama, I can't breath in!" Addy said again. I hurriedly discarded my "overreacting" worries and started thinking options. In small towns, there's usually only one option and well, we only had one: The Emergency Room. As we collected our daughter and necessary papers, our concern intensified. "Mama, I can't breath in? I can't breath in?"

It's takes a lot to unnerve me and well, the thought of Addy not being able to breath did. In addition to her other symptoms, she had an odd barking cough. As we scurried to the truck, I told her, "The last time you sounded like this we steamed up our bathroom and sat in the hot, misty air. And that took care of everything." I then turned to my husband, "She's too old to have Croup. I bet it's a very bad case of strep." Strep had been going around. Although, with hindsight, I don't think Strep interferes with breathing.

By the time we reached the ER her breathing had regulated. Wouldn't you know it? But, of course, that didn't stop us from getting her checked out.

The visit took about two hours. Turns out she had viral Croup. So, it was Croup after all! Very unusual for a seven year old, but not impossible. For the next 48 hours we did several breathing treatments in our bathroom. And, each time we did them, they worked beautifully. And incase you didn't know this about Croup, steam or cold air work wonders. Thus, explaining why our daughter improved dramatically on our ride to the hospital.

She's all better now. Actually returned to school today. Right now she's working on a school project while I type away.

That's all. I simply wanted to share.

Sugar Update

Will the roller coaster ever end. Tonight Sugar and Snow (our other dog) were curled up together on the couch all warm and cozy. I melted. Also, a new development (see, we're trying here), I suddenly realized (is that an epiphany?) that we need to demonstrate to Sugar that Addy is dominate over her. Meaning that in our family chain, Sugar is below Addy. So, tonight when Sugar growled at Addy (just for entering the room, mind you), Addy spoke in an authoritative voice telling her "Don't, Sugar," while pointing her finger at her. Before Addy's reaction had been one of fear.

I'll keep you posted. But, if any of you seasoned dog owners have suggestions, I am open:). You can comment here or e-mail me privately.

A Dog Day

Queen Me shares . . .

Sweet Sugar is still thriving. Although the smell of her breath was a major clue, the rescue folks had warned us her teeth were in terrible condition. What started out as a simple procedure (to clean her teeth) turned into some major dental work. Now minus her front teeth and several more, she's as cute as ever:).

The most difficult part of my day, though, started on the drive to the vet's office. We have a neighborhood dog, Sadie, that loves to chase cars. Our friendly Sheltie has avoided harm for over two years. As typical, she chased me out of the neighborhood. Next came my husband. Darting out to catch up with him, Sadie never saw the truck and trailer coming from the other direction.

My husband knowing that I was just over the hill and on my way to the vet, called me. I quickly whipped my car around to see if Sadie could be helped. Once near the scene, I glanced towards Sadie thinking it didn't look good. Parking my car, I ran to a workman who witnessed the accident. "Nope. That dog is dead. She died right away. My foreman pulled her off the road and is now going to tell the owners." I looked again over at Sadie. I could tell he was right. Then he added, "Made my foreman cry."

Of course, made me cry too.

Later that day I found out the foreman not only pulled the dog off the road and notified the owners, but he carried the dog to their house and helped a mother and sick child bury her.

Sadie will be missed.