Curling Up Inside the Shell

     Curling Up Inside the Shell---As the Snow Keeps Falling

By now, the whole nation is probably aware of the weather in my area of the country.  We have been

literally buried under something akin to 70-80 inches of snow, (depending on whose numbers are used).  It has gotten to the point where places to put the snow are running out. Students have missed 

six-out of eleven days of school in the last two weeks alone, due to weather. Many people, (who have the option), are working from home.  Some, who are hourly employees, are flat-out missing work, and the opportunities for getting paid.  Backs, arms and shoulders are achy, people are exhausted from all of the shoveling and snow-blowing, and there are cars parked along city streets that haven't seen the light of day for a couple of weeks.  I commented to my daughter and her friend, whom I was driving into the city last week, (on yet another day in which they didn't have school), that the owners of those cars won't be going anywhere till the spring! Then there are the cars that are SO buried, the snow mounds covering them are starting to lose the identifying shape of car-ness!   As I write, the tapping of the computer keyboard is creating an odd, arhythmic syncopation with the steady drip-drip-drip of the leak that is occurring in the next room that leads out onto my deck.  

It is at times like these, that we mollusk-types do what comes so naturally to us-----we curl up inside of our shells.  At THIS point, some non-mollusk types may be doing the same thing.  A former colleague of mine posted on Facebook, things to do on a snow day:  read,  drink hot cocoa,  Pinterest projects, organize photo albums, play outside in the snow, lesson-plan.  I 'liked' her post.  It sounds so idyllic and pretty, doesn't it?  Then again, this woman is one of those teachers whose classroom always looks gorgeous----she should start a magazine: Better Classrooms and Gardens or something.  SHE always LOOKS gorgeous too.  So, it's natural that HER snow day would also be gorgeous and idyllic.  MY snow day looks something like this: snow pants and outdoor jackets are hanging or draped over the railing in my mud area.  Damp boots are recuperating from last night's blow and shovel episode on the stone floor, forming icy puddles where they stand----footless, waiting to be intruded-upon again, for the next snow adventure.  There are shovels and ice scrapers leaning against the window and the walls like weapons in some armory, vigilant against the next onslaught.  These are also forming icy puddles on the stone floor.  There was even a casualty. One of the shovels' handle snapped off in my son's hand yesterday!

But in all battles, you never leave a soldier behind, so handle-less shovel leans there too, with its uninjured buddies, ready to do whatever it can the next time.  I see the silhouette of icicles on the accordion shades and  the bright white glint of sunlight against steel grey on the icicles that are completely visible through the glass slider doors.  Three plastic containers are sitting on the towel I have  on the floor in front of the slider----catching the drip-drip-drips from the ice damming of my roof.

There are cookies to be baked. I made a BIG batch of pancakes yesterday. My husband put up a big pot of vegetable soup a couple of weeks ago. Last night was a great night for reheating it, and eating it.

Warm beverages have been a big deal in our house during this White Wallop we've been experiencing.

Hot foods, anything needing preparation in an oven has been very popular lately.  I've taken to having a glass of red wine (or two); continuing to mutter words like 'tannins' and 'antioxidants' as I sip. 

As I write, one of the most exquisite sets of lyrics, (or poetry, actually), from Joni Mitchell is going through my head. It's called,  Urge For Goin' ; it was recorded by Tom Rush among others.  One verse  goes like this:

                                              "I'll ply the fire with kindling,

                                               Pull the blankets to my chin---

                                               I'll lock the vagrant winter out

                                               And bolt my wanderin' in....."

If you haven't ever heard it, give a listen-----no better winter mood has ever been created through words and music, (IMHO). 

Tomorrow, we should be able to get out again. No snow is being predicted for at least 24 hours!

Till then, I'm going to curl up, retreat into my shell.  Maybe I'll have some hot chocolate. Maybe I'll read something.  Or maybe I'll 'pull the blankets to my chin' .....and take a nap!

                                               

                                                             The Mollusk

                                                 

                 "What's This Button Do?" Or How To Abort the Explosive Mission

Perhaps you're one of those people who has been granted a social circle----co-workers, friends and family, whose conversations proceed within acceptable decibel ranges, and disagreements and differing points of view are discussed calmly and rationally.  Maybe you've grown up in an environment where you rarely heard raised voices----if ever.   If you are not such a person, I'll lay odds that the escalating, explosive conversations that you have experienced, were in all probability, with a member or members of your own family.

I recently had such an experience with a member of my family, in which the two of us were reacting at higher and higher volumes, punctuated by the loud slams of a door.  (Note: I did not say 'communicating', because in any interaction which escalates to this level, communication ceases to exist).

I like to think of myself as fair-minded, rational and well-spoken. I can freely state though, that in the scenario mentioned above, I was not any of those things.  And here's the thing----I was cognitively aware that I had lost control-----even in the midst of losing control!   How and why did this happen?

At what point do we allow our 'button(s) to be pushed' that leads to total emotional-explosion?

I pondered this question for awhile. On the surface, it may initially seem like it is the issue of the "wrongness" with which one ascribes to the point of view being espoused by our "button-pusher".  I don't think "wrongness" is the issue though; because when it's a matter of "wrongness" to our way of thinking, it's just a simple matter of explaining what we believe to be the obvious 'truth' in our own point of view. We just need to speak a little slower, be a little clearer, present the logic behind our view,

and our own "rightness" will be revealed and made obvious to the one who is 'wrong'. In other words, there is hope that we will be heard.  And THAT's when I became aware of my 'destruction-button'.

My 'destruction-button' was pushed when I felt that I was not being heard.  My 'destruction-button' was pushed when I felt that the other person involved in this interaction didn't want to hear me. My 'destruction-button' was pushed when my actual experience in what was being disputed, was negated and ignored.  And when we feel we're not being heard, there is no hope for revelation of 'truth' or 'rightness' or 'acceptance of difference'. For me, this is what pushes my red, 'DESTRUCT' button.  I have a hunch that it may be at the core of whatever pushes anyone's buttons----but I'll just speak for myself.

The question I had to ask myself was, how can I abort the 'DESTRUCT' mission in the future? One of the things that occurred to me was akin to 'turn the other cheek'.  If you already know that the person with whom you are interacting tends to negate and not hear you, you enter the interaction with knowledge of the playing-field. You can disengage. Infusing drama/humor into the scenario can be helpful----for example, suddenly feigning stomach cramps (accompanied by loud retching noises), and bolting for the bathroom-----can quickly diffuse a situation. The problem with this is, it's a strategy that can only be used a limited number of times, before our 'button-pusher' starts to see a pattern! A less dramatic strategy is to let the other person speak, while we employ the mental discipline needed to not react.  Of course, the danger here is that this can lead to gradual overall emotional disengagement. If the other person is a friend who frequently negates/ dismisses us, it seems logical to me that this person probably won't remain a friend.  If it's a co-worker, and this is a frequent trope in the relationship, it seems logical to me that a change in department or entire venue might be in order.  We can't change family members----although we may have to emotionally disengage.

I'm curious. How do you prevent your buttons from being pushed?

 

How Buying A Sticker Book Made Me want to Burn My Bra

                  MUSINGS FROM THE MOLLUSK

           A Blog About Introversion, Child-Rearing, Education and Other Stuff

Let me explain something about myself: I LOVE visual embellishment; I've always doodled, color-penciled, and  curly-cued my writing, whether in my notebooks, or in letters---(back when I actually wrote them), and even on my students' papers!  Subscribing to the adage, 'a picture is worth a thousand words', my little smiley/snarky-characters would often supplant actual comments on the work of my students---and quite often that was more than enough for them.  My little pictures were all over my calendar book entries, and when a well-known graphic artist came up with her own 'Mom's Planner Calendar', complete with accompanying stickers, I was ALL over that!  I particularly loved the stickers.

Which is why, I happened to find myself in a well-frequented,  book store chain, hunting for stickers for which to embellish my recently purchased calendar book for 2015.  I came upon a sticker book----two, actually. Each of the sticker books promised a life-time supply of stickers within their pages, but one book was designed for boys, and the other one, girls.   Words used on the cover to describe the 'boys' stickers were words like, 'artsy', and 'interesting', while the adjectives used to describe the 'girls' stickers were words such as, 'cutesy' and 'doodly'.  So it had all come down to this.  Boys were, or could aspire to be 'artsy' and 'interesting', while expectations for their female counterparts encompassed

the very shallow depths of 'cutesy' and 'doodly'.  Forty-six years of the Women's Movement, equal pay, the metro-sexual male, househusbands, female CEO's, and here the hell is a sticker book in 2015 telling  girls that there's nothing more to being a girl than being 'cutesy'.

I stood there, looking at the two sticker books in disbelief.  The insidious pages themselves were festooned with the promised-copiousness of stickers.  The 'boys' stickers had the usual sports motifs, along with musical instruments, (guitars, drums, and saxophones, mostly), camping images, flags, pictures of families, balloons, dogs, cats, inner tubes, funny faces, astronauts, etc., all executed in various styles.

The 'girls' stickers were done in pinks, oranges, tropical blues, and other vivid pastels. The images ran the very wide gamut ( just feel the sarcasm oozing), of hearts, flowers, rainbows and ice cream cones. Yup.

Now mind you, I actually like hearts, flowers, rainbows and ice cream cones. And I loved the colors in which these images were shown.  But in a world where we have supposedly been telling our girl children and students that they can be and do anything, and where our girls have grown up with a Sandra Day O'Connor and Ruth Bader Ginsburg  on the Supreme Court, and women astronauts, politicians and clergy, and everything else-----THESE STICKER BOOKS JUST DID NOT MAKE SENSE! 

Perhaps I should have just walked away, and if I had been purchasing the sticker book for a child----I wouldn't have made the purchase, and would have walked---- but I didn't. I actually bought the 'boys' stickers. (They were really cool).  But I will be contacting that publisher----and sharing my views!

                                                         The Mollusk