Service Class

I will be teaching a workshop on service relationships this February. The class has a listing on Fetlife and the CSPC calendar. I'm surprised and a little intimidated by the response it's getting a full two months out.

I've only been actively writing the curriculum for this class for a month. However, my life has been building the foundation for it over the last 10 years (with a notable acceleration over the last 3 years with Max). In some ways this curriculum feels like completing a thesis project (or how I imagine completing a thesis project feels given that I dropped my traditional grad school program just after starting my thesis project in earnest). What's entertaining to me is that I'm actually using stuff from traditional grad school to complete my kinky grad school project.

Breakfast Cookies for Russell

Russell likes food a lot. Making food is love. Whether he makes it for someone or someone makes it for him, if you want to pay in to the love bank, enjoy food with Russell.

I am not as much about food, but I did have a Christmas tradition with my mom for several years. We would bake up a whole bunch of cookies and then deliver them to our friends on Christmas Eve. Food in general may not be love, but cookies are definitely love. And, bonus!, I know how to bake cookies.

But, bummer, Russell can't really have very much sugar without his body crashing and doing weird things. And so a few months ago I turned to the internet. I needed to find a tasty cookie recipe with plenty of protein and fiber to balance a little bit of sugar. Enter the hearty breakfast cookie recipe that I modified for better Russell enjoyment below.

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup almond butter (because then I can serve them to my partner Adrienne)
  
• 1 1/4 cups packed brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 eggs
• 1/3 cup low- or non-fat milk (because it's tastier than water)
  
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 2 cups quick cooking oats
• 1/2 cup wheat germ
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• dash nutmeg
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 cup dried cranberries (because they're more special than raisins)
  
• 1/2 cup raisins (to keep things sweet)
  
• 1/4 cup chopped walnuts (but don't tell Russell)
  

Directions

• In a really large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat together butter, almond butter, brown sugar, and vanilla until creamy. Beat in eggs and milk.
• Mix together flours, oats, wheat germ, salt, cinnamon, and baking soda. Mix into almond butter mixture. Stir in cranberries, raisins, and walnuts.
  
• Drop by heaping tablespoons 2 1/2 inches apart on greased (or non-stick) cookie sheets. Flatten slightly.
• Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 8-10 minutes (maybe a little more). Cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then transfer to cooling racks. Store in an airtight container.

I get about 22 cookies out of a batch, (ymmv). They fit nicely two to a sandwich-sized Ziploc and then they become little take-along baggies of love. I find it helpful to build informed consent before people bite into these cookies. They're super tasty breakfast in a desert-like shape. However, handing someone a "cookie" and having them bite in expecting chocolate numminess tends to result in disappointed/betrayed expressions.

I just finished baking another batch for Russell this afternoon. I was feeling a little off kilter earlier today. Despite the clear and overwhelming evidence, my brain was having a hard time believing it was loved. These things happen. Rather than asking for more external evidence, since that didn't seem to be helping, I decided to create some internal evidence. Clearly, if I'm baking cookies for someone and doing other good things for the people in my life then there must be a lot of love there to be shared around. Whacky logic, but hey it worked. By the time I'd finished eating the sample cookie, I felt all kinds of love. Not so much because more was coming in, but because I was letting more out. Russell's delighted expressions probably helped too.

Potential and Kinetic Metaphors

Roller-coaster metaphors have been popping up around me a lot over the last few days. And while they do seem to match this particular part of my life path, I'm really not fond of them. The jostling, the racket of the track which never changes, being surrounded by people having the same ride and screaming their own experience into the air. That's *really* not my cup of tea.

I've been describing this period of impending transition as "Taking a leap with all the materials necessary to build a parachute on the way down." While it's funny and gets most of my point across, it's not exactly the metaphor I'm looking for either. Even though I don't know what's out there and I'm not sure how it's going to happen, I still believe pretty strongly that this leap is about creating and experiencing new heights much more than transforming potential energy into a wild kinetic ride only to land (hopefully softly) on the ground somewhere below.

There is A LOT of faith involved in making my current life choices. It's the kind of faith that invites fear to get the hell out of the way. It's not that I'm fearless or reckless or even particularly courageous. It's that my life is so full of love and blessing that I really don't have much choice but to know that things will work out in their highest and best good.

So, no. This is not a roller-coaster. And these materials aren't for a parachute after all. This is a hang-glider I'm building, and soon I'll be soaring with the eagles. This is stepping off a cliff knowing that my body and support system will be able to sense and ride on the invisible but powerful thermals that are just waiting out there to lift us up.

This is my love-note to all the people in my life who make up my hang-glider. The ones who stand straight and strong against the buffeting gusts. The ones who wrap close and hold tight. The ones who stretch wide and flutter and giggle in the breezes. The ones who bend into the wind and help me get where I think I want to go. Thank you for making the space and time for me to try my wings.

This is also a love-note to Spirit. Who sings in my heart, whispers in my ear, and lifts my feet off the ground.

It is the wind asking me "How good can you stand it?"
And my reply, "Even more than I can imagine tonight!"

But this wasn't on the agenda...

Let's talk a little bit more about that job. First off given the nature of the job and the nature of this blog, I'm going to be a little vague about the job so as not to spook the potential employers should they accidentally happen across a description of their job posting here. That's not to say that I'm actively presenting a polished puritan persona either. (My resume lists my volunteer work without shady acronyms.)

What I feel like chatting about though is the slow and steady way the idea of actually moving south and doing this job keeps wheedling its way into my brain. I had a friend/mentor remind me that the choice to take the job is not in fact a lifetime commitment. She took a job up in the Alaskan bush once holding to the philosophy that she could do anything for a single school year. This little bit of wisdom was precisely the growing condition my seed of a wish needed to grow into a full-blown desire.

That desire requires a lot of creative thinking though. This is where the scene from Princess Bride where Inigo rattles off a litany of obstacles to the recently mostly-dead Wesley pops vividly to mind. Rather than storming a castle though I'm looking at returning to an abandoned passion and moving 800 miles away from my family. The Inigo in my head sounds a little like this "I'll say. First, how do we get the job. Then once we get the job, how do we plan the exit strategy for the current job, and how do we afford to live in the new city, and how do we prepare to enjoy life without seeing family every night of the week, and how do we find the right place to live, and how do we decide how much to take with, and how do we avoid/productively deal with the challenges that made us abandon the passion in the first place, and how do we reassure family that everything will be just right and..." Eventually Fessig breaks in reminding us that we haven't even heard back about the cover letter yet.

Sigh...

Pamperpalooza 2009

What is Pamperpalooza 2009?
It begins Wednesday with an evening of bathing, grooming, eating, and mutual mani- pedi- with Kaylee.
Then I do a little self care and go kick a certain trainer in the shins Thursday morning (Because I will be done limping by then and he definitely deserves it.)
A final baseline grooming and Kaylee and I are off to Duque for professional pampering.
This includes my very first facial ever, and make-up and up-do's for both of us. (I've never been here before either. You can be sure I'll tell you how it went.)
Then we put on pretty dresses and prance around our respective homes informing the boys it's time to tell us how pretty we look. (I've found it's important to be clear about your goals when prancing. If you don't want to hear "Are you really wearing that?!" then it's better to just say "Tell me I look pretty.").
There will probably be some snap-shots of Pamperpalooza (and the end result) that I'll happily post after the night is through.

All this pampering does not come cheap, but we're worth it. Between the white dresses and the disproportionate amount of pre-event fussing, it's almost like Kaylee and I are getting to do all the fun parts of a wedding without having to deal with the drudge-work, cranky relatives, and unreasonable commitment at the end.

Bullet Round Update

Kinkfest: Yes, I went to Kinkfest. Russell and I only stayed for Friday and Saturday, but it worked out nicely for us overall. Here are some of the highlights.

• Quality drive time with Russell. We have some of our most productive idea sharing conversations on long drives like this.
  
• Our room was much better than the rooms we've had the last two years. (Turns out we were directly above Max and his family)
• Eating at Thai Noon. This is the most flavorful and friendly and nifty Thai restaurant I've ever been to. Russell and I were introduced to it during Kinkfest last year and it was definitely one of the big things we were looking forward to this year. Mango Sticky Rice!!!
• Being Max's. Conferences can be treacherous waters for poly families, there are A LOT of moving parts to keep track of in a very small and sometimes intensely loaded space. Fortunately everyone in our respective families plays nice and genuinely wants things to work out for everyone else. I am quite grateful to all parties involved for the time I was able to share with Max at this year's conference.
• Dangling above the ground from ropes for the first time since surgery. While the dangling portion of the scene was not the centerpiece of our scene in the dungeon, full suspension is a very notable recovery landmark. Max is a creative, talented man who had an intimate understanding of the risks and ways to minimize them. I'm not ready to let the rest of my friends with suspension bondage skills tie me up just yet.
• Good sex with Russell.
• Mo Williams' workshop on service. It seemed like this workshop was still in the development stages, but Mo is a fantastic story teller so that didn't really matter. It lacked detectable structure, but once I sat down to record the things worth remembering from the workshop I had a page full of notes and sound-bites.
• Sharing a snack picnic with a friend who also needed to avoid the hotel food. I was both happy to get chatting time with her and delighted that Russell and my preplanning paid off for one of our friends.
• Vendor fair purchase. Russell split the cost of one of these for me. Coming to a Grind near you sometime soon.
• One low-light: The drive home was in some spectacularly crummy weather. There was even snow for part of it.
  

SEAF (ok, mostly costuming stuff):

• I will be revealing the fact that the x-ray made it in to SEAF to my surgeon at the next appointment (about a week from now). I'm hoping to present smaller matted prints to him and his nurse as part of a thank you gift. I don't think they know about or read the blog, if they do I've just spoiled the surprise... oops
• I picked up an adhesive backless bra at Nordstroms on Thursday, insuring that the dress will fit better.
• Russell saw a test run of the dress and aproves.
• My budget for this event grew a little recently. Now I'm hoping to take the whole day before the Artists' Reception off to indulge in pampering and primping.

Physical/Medical Stuff:

• Lately I've been thinking "I could really go for a massage" but I'm not sure there are many massage therapists willing to work on someone with this much recently installed hardware. Most of the tightness is in my neck and shoulders though and that seems workable with a little information.
• The trip to Kinkfest also marked the longest drive since surgery, but that didn't cause any problems for me at all. (Hooray!)
• [edited to add] Oh, AND I made it to the gym the day after Kinkfest even though I had to work all day too. (last week's record wasn't so hot and I'm determined to get it moving back in the right direction)
  
• Overall, I feel pretty darn healthy and strong.
  

Oops, I poisoned Russell

Our tub was gross.

"Yeah right Red, you're a girl, what do you know about 'gross' bathrooms really?"

When I declare "Our tub was gross" I'm serious. There was a black ring around the white space where we stand to shower that blended off to a brown goo in all directions and up all four sides of the tub. I have wanted to soak in a warm fizzy tub for the last couple days, but could barely bring myself to stand in the shower long enough to wash my hair.

Let me put it to you this way: I am less than 6 months out from surgery, my back has been cranky the last couple days, and still getting down on my knees and leaning over the tub for an hour or so seemed like a completely reasonable measure to make my bathroom livable again.

So I traded out my PT exercise routine for a tub scrubbing this evening (complete with being mindful of keeping my core engaged and not twisting).

Just as I was finishing up, Russell appeared in the bathroom red-faced, runny nosed, and not entirely coherent. I was using a new eco-groovey, animal friendly, Seventh Generation Tub and Tile cleanser "Emerald Cypress & Fir" scent. Apparently, one of those earth-friendly botanicals has been identified by Russell's immune system as a terrorist and his body went in to serious allergic reaction mode.

The final score:

• The tub looks much better (not pristine by any stretch of the imagination, but better)
• I'm sore, but more like a good workout than bad choices
  
• Russell is recovering slowly thanks to modern anti-histamine technology
• I didn't get my soak tonight, but now the tub will be ready for me post-gym tomorrow.
  
• The cleaner, while effective and freshly scented, has been banned under the biological warfare treaty of the apartment.

Of Breeding and Cookie Baking

Relax friends and loved ones, I haven't fallen prey to the biological clock, but I do have some observations.

I work in a place that sometimes puts me in direct contact with crumb crunchers and their parents. I've been avoiding this part of my job since surgery, but today I felt strong enough to give it a shot again. (I was wrong) I found myself in a position that required I pick up a small munchkin to insure his safety. If my physical therapist is reading this she'll be happy to know I used all the good body-mechanics we discussed in the process. He was probably less than 25 pounds so not entirely out of my range of ability, but women tend to carry babies differently from laundry baskets. The maternal instincts that forced me to toss him on one hip did me in.

Which brings me to my suggestion for adult women considering this surgery. It's all about timing ladies! Either have the surgery once your children are old enough to understand why you can't pick them up (age 5 or 6), or have the surgery before breeding. Picking up babies 5 months post-op is really really really tempting and, in my first-hand experience, a very bad idea.

My job has also prompted a round of cookie baking tonight. We're having a kind of open house in our building tomorrow and everyone is bringing some kind of treat. My contribution will be Oatmeal Butterscotch and Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies (eta: the recipe link). This is the first time I've made these cookies in over two years. I used to refer to them as the cookies of death. However, since I'm hoping that I'll bake enough cookies to have a few left over for Skippy's memorial on Thursday, I'm hesitant to broadcast the nickname too loudly. Nickname or no, just the act of baking these cookies is comforting to my mixed-up emotions. I must be getting old, somebody died and I have a very strong urge to bake a casserole in a transportable container. (I don't even EAT casserole, much less know how to cook it)

PS. If say someone were to drop by before I go to work tomorrow, he or she might be able to snag a very fresh, very tasty (Russell approved) cookie. There's oatmeal in the cookies so they count as breakfast...right?!

First death in the family.

Today I am faced with the first death of a member of my extended chosen family.

Skippy was one of those ever-present people in my community. While by no means an angel, he did a lot of good work and shared a caring supportive word with countless numbers of people who walked through the doors of our community center.

Even though we never played, we grew up in this community together. We got to watch one another's successes and mistakes and provide support no matter what. From quick playful words to surprisingly poignant conversations, from much-needed massages to temporarily taking over EC duty when I simply couldn't resist getting naked on the dance floor, I will treasure my memories of this mercurial man.

I'm still in shock, just 24 hours ago we were sharing hugs and discussing the transfer of surplus cold packs to soothe my surprisingly sore back.

To any of my family who may also be reading this and missing Skippy, perhaps you will find this post by a stranger helpful.

Feeling good post-gym

I've made it to the gym 3 of the last 4 days. Tonight I'm feeling really good. Really really good. The muscles in my back feel strong and active, and the rest of my body is quite happy about the additional moving around. Even more than the physical, I'm feeling really good emotionally. I'm full of gratitude for the people at the forks in the road that brought me here today.

• To Dale who has provided quiet reassurance and friendly, loving perspective for nearly 10 years of this journey
• To Ernie who escorted me to my first play party and proved that not all the people one meets via the internet are psycho killers (even if they do suggest you meet them in a foreign country and attend a secret-ish event).
  
• To Seawandrr and Opium who opened their home and hearts to me and introduced me to so very many wonderful things about the kink community--including many of the people mentioned below
  
• To Bob whose love pulled me away from my cabin in the woods and into the big city permanently
  
• To Cat Tailor whose love, wisdom, wit, and passion helped me through the toughest parts of my Saturn Return
  
• To Maven whose love, patience, and honesty gave me the courage to change
• To Russell whose gifts are far too many to list here
• To Lauren who decided I was family
• To Kaylee who became the exception to most of my rules
• To Lorelie whose life has woven across mine some remarkable ways
  
• To Max who saw and accepted my offering
• To the friend of a friend whose short conversation with me gave me the confidence to quit poking around for second opinions and just do it
• To all the health-care professionals I've worked with over the last year every one of whom respected my honesty and encouraged my active participation in my own health-care
  
• To my employer who allows me to be honest about my way of life and provides kick-ass health benefits
  

It's hard to play the what-if game with one's history, but I'm quite certain that I'd be a very different person in a very different place were it not for each and every one of the people listed above. I look at this list and see many more people that I could fill in. My life is completely blessed by love and generosity. The people not listed here are no less important to the path I've wandered to get where I am today, I hope they know that too.

Slide Show

The link you've all been waiting for:
Kaylee and Red's (un)Dress Rehearsal
If you must be warned that this isn't work safe you're really beyond help.

Life is really good for me right now.
Healthy body,
Happy family,
Room to grow and the means to do it.

Bang for the Buck Report

Lorelie wrote up a nice over-all review of the night, so I'll lazily say "What she said" to my general impressions of the evening. And let me just say, my inseam was no where near as lucky as Lorelie's. I came home with one purple cock ring. Seriously?! What the hell am I supposed to do with that? (I have much too strong a sense of self-preservation to approach either of my penis-equipped partners with it.)

Kaylee and I were all business about getting ready from about 3:30 on. This makes for a very long evening.
I want to pause here to consider that Kaylee and I were only preparing for one 2-minute act in a much longer show and event. The organizers of Bang for the Buck are nothing short of goddesses for being able to set-up, run, and break-down this epic event while exuding fabulousness from every pore. I hope they were treated accordingly for the rest of this weekend.
We were costumed in time to do a run-through with our friend Travis to document our escapades. (someday he'll get me a disc with the pictures and I'll post them for you) Then quick out of those costumes and into our cover-costumes. I believe we only made 3 failed attempts for the door before we had everything we wanted with us. Lorilie already mentioned the epic traffic that would have made Kaylee and I late if it hadn't also affected everyone else. As it turned out, we were some of the first to arrive. Which meant we were also one of the first acts on the list.

Several nerve-wracking delays later, our song came on. And out we stepped in our perfectly ridiculous slutty engineer outfits. We had a blast, the audience had a blast and I got to show off my scar in a big way. Our fabulous MC, Miss Indigo Blue, kept referring to the many amazing "back stories" of the dancers on the stage without calling any out specifically. I'm not sure if she knew the whole of my back story or not.

It was great to see people I hadn't seen in a while and hear how impressed they were with my energy and mobility. It would not have happened that way without the support of my friends and family. I'm incredibly grateful for all the supportive words and energy I received along the way to that night. You all bless my life!

Bang for the Buck Reminder

LADIES: If you are anywhere within driving distance of the club tonight, get thee to The Bang! (Even if you're "not into girls" this party is an absolute blast. Think slumber party gone really really wild...with fewer PJ's and more silly dancing.)

Gentlemen and Out-of-State Voyeurs: Thanks to a very generous photographer friend, you will at least get a taste of the act Kaylee and I have planned. We will be doing a quick dress rehearsal before we head down there this evening, and he has graciously agreed to take a few pictures during the rehearsal. Poor guy, alone in a room with two spirited redheads obligated to watch closely as they take their clothes off repeatedly.

Kaylee's a Keeper

My back is chronically sore for the first time in a while. That's not what this post is about.

This post is about Kaylee and her awesomeness.

She conspired with Max to surprise me with a full day of yumminess on Monday. As is my nature, I did not exactly make it easy for her. I'm often one of those people who can see surprises coming long before they're supposed to. If I don't see them coming I have an uncanny ability to create scenarios in which the person is forced to reveal the surprise before they want to.

When I woke up, I thought my Monday was going to be a slow morning followed by noon brunch and girly stuff with Kaylee and concluded by a dinner with Max. I wanted to be able to squeeze in some gym time between the two dates, so I called Kaylee to see if we could move brunch up a little earlier and possibly eat in to save money. She seemed a little resistant to a change in plans, probably because she wasn't as awake as I was, and this didn't seem like the kind of thing worth pushing.

When she got to my place to pick me up, we did our usual doddling and pestering of Russell before leaving. Then as I was getting in the car Max appeared out of nowhere! At first I assumed this was a conicidence. I figured he parked near my place to go to one of the meetings he had planned for the day. THEN he got in the car with us.

The three of us had a very nice mellow day together. Kaylee and I ate silly quantities of sweet breakfast foods at brunch. We walked through a lake-side neighborhood. Then we headed back to Max's place and spent some nice quiet time in front of a fire enjoying each other's company. A truly delightful surprise.

In addition to being unbelievably cute, Kaylee is also the sweetest most loving girl I know. The joy she takes in seeing her loved ones happy is truly compelling. She's a bundle of creative energy that expresses itself in a myriad of sparkly ways. She's also extremely smart and highly capable. Kaylee's a keeper.

Thanks Lorelei

For my birthday, Lorelei gave me what is quite possibly the niftiest second-hand present ever. (link not work safe)

The boots, people, the boots! These are my very first pair of stompy boots ever. Hooray for gifted leather! Max took pictures of me wearing them for the first time, but I don't have those in my possession quite yet. I didn't think y'all'd mind a substitute picture for the time being.

They were a fairly gently worn second-hand store find that didn't quite fit her. To show my gratitude and affection, I promptly smothered them in Pecard Leather Dressing when I got them home. I may not have ever owned a pair of stompy boots, but between Russell and Max, I've had my fair share of boot care training.

I can't wait to wear them to the next Grind.

Perhaps you are saying "But what on earth does this have to do with scoliosis surgery?" (though more likely you stopped reading up at the second link) You've read mention of the difficulties of reaching one's feet after surgery already. Now visualize trying to lace up 20-hole Doc's with this same complication. And say, you did not have the foresight of Cadence to take all your clothing off before putting the nifty new stompy boots on. I had Lorelei's help for getting in, but then I needed Max's help to get back out. Max, with whom there is no ambiguity about our power dynamic what-so-ever, managed to find a very dominant method of unlacing those boots. Though I believe describing it may breach some kind of trade-secret agreement so I'll just have to leave that to your imaginations.

Edit: Here are my legs in my very first pair of stompy boots for the very first time.


Detail oriented people will note these are not precisely the same style as the ones you see on Cadence. The working theory is that this has to do with the "Made in England" seal on the bottom of my boots as opposed to most Doc's sold in the US which are now made in China.

Things to love about Russell

There are several posts here about my connection to Max. That's in large part due to the novelty of the dynamic. It's not the kind of partnership everyone has and this is a blog about being kinky and dealing with surgery/recovery stuff. However, this is also a blog about being poly, and I want to be sure that my other partnerships don't get lost in the shuffle. So today I bring you:

"Things to Love About Russell"

• You all did notice the bunch of posts he made while I was in surgery right? He took the time and energy to let the unknown number of readers of my blog know how things were progressing. How awesome is that?
• I love Russell like I love electricity. He makes so so so many things in my life simpler and happier. From hauling heavy laundry baskets to making tasty snacks, he's around and helpful almost all the time. I could possibly survive without him, but not for more than a day or two.
• Russell puts up with my whims. For example, right about the beginning of November I declared that I was going to have a Christmas tree this year no matter what. We both knew at the time that "no matter what" really meant "because I'll have your help to make it happen." He's not a big holiday person and the whole disruption of his nest for temporary decoration is not a trivial inconvenience for him. I don't know all the reasons he decided to put up with this, but I know the big one is he loves me.
• Russell is fun and easy to be with. We know each other. We can usually tell when it's time to poke and play and when it's just time to sit quietly together. We're pretty good at both things, but especially the sitting quietly together.
• Russell appreciates the things I add to his life too and he's really good about telling me.

This is certainly not an exhaustive list of things to love about Russell, but it's a nice broad base from which to begin.

Why is this working?

I’ve been quite good about the PT since Max agreed to help out. If you’re one of my scoliosis readers who doesn’t care so much about kink reflections come back later. This is all about me trying to figure out why the things in my brain that were getting in my way at first got out of the way when Max came on board.

The simple answer is “Because he asked me to.” but why does that work? What is this flavor of power I’ve given to him that makes it possible for me to follow directions in a way I never really have before? A more romanticized answer might be “Deep down I trust he always asks me to do the hard work but it’s always something I’m quite capable of doing.” Frankly, it’s not my inner romantic asking these questions. My self-possessed skeptic wants some answers.

Why didn’t I just do the exercises because the man I paid to design them for me told me to do them? I mean really; a confident, arguably sadistic, attractive, older man with professional interest in my growth and development gave me an assignment. What’s not to love about that? I think I simultaneously had too much and too little invested. Too much in that I wanted to impress him, and too little in that I didn't know whether it was going to do much good. I couldn’t find the happy just-do-it middle ground.

Why didn’t it work when I asked it of myself? My over-developed sense of responsibility and fear of failure got into direct conflict with my self-awareness. I have to do this because it's the responsible healthy thing to do, but if I do it wrong "something bad" will happen, and if I learned anything in my nearly 20 years in the education system it's that I'm no good at doing homework. There was no “one day at a time” in my head. I knew this kind of self-talk was a death-spiral, but there wasn’t anything I could do to talk myself out of it on my own.

Would someone else in my support circle have worked just as well? I don’t really think so. Living with Russell makes things like one-way accountability a little too messy, it's just not our style. For just about everyone else in my circle, there’s too much push-pull. My friends and family make a good cheer squad, but it’s not in their job description to give me directions and expect them to be followed. If I think for a moment that I can do less work/avoid the work all together without some kind of follow through on their part, I’m pretty likely do just that.

I don't feel that push-pull with Max. When he says, “Take care of yourself and don't get sick. And drop me a note after you do your PT tonight.” I know he doesn’t mean, “Drop me a line if you get around to doing PT tonight.” Nor does he mean, “Send me a list of reasons why you didn’t do your PT.” However, there’s also no implied reward or consequence in his original statement. That is perhaps the key and the most difficult part to dissect or explain to people outside my head.

My college acting class days come back to me as I ask myself “What’s my motivation?” To be good? To be pleasing? To merit praise? A little bit of “Good girl” or “I’m proud of you” certainly goes a very long way. But that still doesn’t quite feel like the reason. I do it because I get so much joy and fulfillment out of the dynamic Max and I have and following his directions however big or small reinforces that dynamic.

Suddenly, doing PT isn’t about paying in to a bank to insure future happiness. The simple act of choosing to do the PT actual creates happiness right there. I follow Max’s directions and get to feel a little more in service to him right in that moment. We aren’t in each other’s presence as often as we'd like so every time I get to serve him, whether he’s with me or not, feels like a little luxury to me.

Coming back to “Why does serving Max work better than any other approach at getting me to change my habits around doing daily PT?” I think the answer is that serving Max is an instant positive reinforcement. Every elementary-school teacher knows the faster and more frequent the positive reinforcement, the easier it is to change the behavior. Honestly, who needs cookies or stickers when you can start your day with a little service headspace? (Not that I’ll turn away cookies or stickers in addition to service headspace mind you *winks*)

Did it!

Tuesday night I posted about going to PT and the ridiculous gymnastics my brain did essentially avoiding the homework I'd been assigned.

Wednesday morning, they didn't happen either.
Wednesday night I was still afraid of the damn things and now they were safely buried under a pile of other things. On the plus side, I did get a bunch of other housework done in the process of running away from the exercises. Frustrated with myself, I finally asked Max for help. (Thanks Autumn for the reminder that I could do that)

Thursday morning I continued to avoid them in the name of "getting ready for work."
Thursday evening I dodged them again in the name of "getting ready for Grind." (Grind was nice by the way. I had a couple people I'd never met before come up and talk to me about the x-rays I posted. I danced a fair bit. I got some extra encouraging PT words from a very attractive friend. I snuggled with Russell and groped Kaylee a little.)
After Grind though I was very aware that some part of my brain was still keeping score of the PT avoidance and making sure I knew what a bad person I was. Fortunately Kaylee snuggles are extra good medicine for that kind of thing.

This morning I had other pleasant distractions and valid reasons to keep avoiding the exercises before work.
This evening Max sent me an email that was mostly about something else but with a little direct sentence about dropping him a line when I finished my PT.
Ding! All of a sudden I was willing to push away most of the other reasons not to start.

I didn't jump up and do them right away after finishing my typical come-home routine. There was a good 30 minutes of futzing and prepping and rearranging and... Eventually, I was alone in my bedroom with the door closed so no one could see my mistakes. And then... I started. By the time I was doing the last couple exercises I wasn't fighting myself so hard. I was just doing it. The trick now is to not think about whether I'll do them tomorrow. Tonight I just want to announce: I FINALLY did it! I deserve a cookie! (Conveniently, there was a bake sale at work today so I've already had my cookie fix)

Making it through the scary parts

A couple days ago, Russell and I ran into one of the challenges I've been dreading for a long time. I think I described it best back in May when I wrote about porn that made me cry. In a pair of sentences, the author managed to sum up the thing I was so blessedly afraid of having to say after surgery:

"I need you to stop fucking me like I'm dying, I'm not dying. But every time you touch me soft, every time you ask if I'm okay, another little piece of me falls off."

After a month of being barely touched and constantly tip-toed around I was going crazy (the PMS wasn't helping matters either). I was beginning to wonder if our relationship had shifted permanently when I wasn't looking. This led to a conversation much more grown-up and less dramatic than the one depicted in the story. We identified the biggest problem: He couldn't touch me much because he didn't know how to do it safely, and I couldn't tell him how to do it safely, because I wouldn't know until we tried. So, carefully, slowly, and with a lot of courage and respect for each other we started to explore the safer limits of what we could do together.

We've got a ways to go in rebuilding our confidence, but I'm glad we finally got to this point. It turns out, I was right. There really was no way around it, no way to avoid it. But I was also right in believing that, no matter what, we'd make it through together.

Attitude Adjustment

Appreciation, Gratitude, and Happy Happenings:
(small note: There is so much fantastiness going on in my life that I'm not likely to remember all of everything I want to say. If you were part of some wonderfulness that did not get mentioned, please understand that it's likely because it's late and not because it wasn't as wonderful as everything else listed. k thanks)

• The obvious first order of gratitude is that there is so much to be thankful for I'm certain of my inability to record it all here tonight.
• The last two nights I've been able to share my bed with someone and feel skin touching my skin as I drift off to sleep.
  
• Russell: who is here nearly all the time, who never grumbles when I call him in from another room to move this thing or that thing 4 inches , who has an endless supply of head kisses for me, who does a very good job of being aware of and taking care of himself in all this too, who provides me with yogurt and eggos and tasty sandwiches, who reads me stories, who walks me around the block, who worries so quietly and cheers so loudly, who loves me very very deeply
  
• Autumn: who makes me cry (in the good way), who adjusts the world with a few words, who walks me to the bagel shop, who makes the tastiest pie ever,
  
• A.: who helps out all over the place, who shuttles laundry and clears tables, who watches movies and brings grapes, who can help to fix the stuff I'm not talking about without having to talk about it, who declares when it's time to feel accomplished, who already understands why it's so important to be here on a Thursday night
  
• Max: who inspires perma-grin just by making contact, who washes loads of dishes, who reminds me this is all an investment he intends to collect in due time, who takes care of me, who tollerates my stubborn instistance on finding some service task I can still do, who gives me attainable goals, who does things that result in wet pillows, who also loves me
  
• Internet: fetlife, instant messaging, blogging, reaching out and finding people in some of the least expected places.
  
• FMLA sick-leave: feeling confident that I have the money to pay people back for grocery runs and rent, knowing that I will still have a job when I'm well enough to do it again
• I'm still getting better,