Week

I turned 44 this week. I had a lovely time. I got to sleep in, the kids tried hard to be nice, friends and family members sent birthday wishes, Bobby made some of my favorite foods, and Erin came over to play Settlers of Catan. It was a perfect blend of recognizing the day as somehow different, but not setting expectations beyond the mark. 

We also canned 52 quarts of peaches this week. I learned a new way to slice peaches. Nancy, my friend who set me up with these fantastic Michigan-grown peaches, wasn't having any problem separating the peach flesh from the stone at her house (they canned just over 70 quarts!!). I just couldn't get it to work. She asked how I was slicing the peaches. I told her I cut it from pole to pole and tried to twist it open. The peaches were just smooshing under the pressure. I canned 36 quarts of peach chunks because each peach had to be surgically removed from its pit. She was 1) horrified that my peaches were going into the jars as chunks instead of slices and 2) curious about this pole-to-pole-and-twist method she had NEVER heard of before. Nancy cuts one slice at a time from the peach, popping each one off with the knife. When I tried her method, the slices came off beautifully. Perfectly. As if they were born to do it that way. Well, we both learned something new :) 

I've frozen as many diced tomatoes as I'll need for the next year. The rest of them will have to go to friends and neighbors. I haven't kept track of what my garden produced this year, but the community garden I co-manage has donated 700# of food so far. 

School started this week as well. The younger kids started yesterday and all four went to school today. It's not the glorious release I keep hoping to feel. I know it WILL feel that way soon, but right now it's something like...hm...like 90% of my life just left me. I've developed some symptoms of anxiety: obtrusive thoughts, heightened awareness, jittery emotional undercurrent. So far, they're the worst when I wake and are gone by the early afternoon. For my own benefit, I'm going to record some dates here from my history with anxiety. Let me know if I forgot anything:

December 2018--my first ever intense anxiety/panic episode. It lasted 2 months. I started medication. This is when I was officially diagnosed with clinical anxiety. 

2019--Fine.

2020--Covid! Still no anxiety relapses. I go off the meds.

August 2021--Alex comes out as transgender and lets us know he has lost his faith. All 4 kids at school. Major anxiety relapse. New/Increased dosage of my anxiety medications. Painful, physical symptoms last 2 months.

January 2022--My mom undergoes surgery to remove a lung tumor. I relapse for another 6 weeks.

August 2022--School starts, anxiety flare-up. Not quite a relapse, but palpable anxiety for a month.

So, it looks like the episodes are getting shorter! That's awesome. 

***LATER***

Okay, it's now 3 days later, my Mom's birthday. A Sunday. My anxiety symptoms have just about disappeared. That didn't take long. So much relief.

Kids are adapting to school alright. Not thrilled about any of it, but resigned to their fate. Robert is taking a math class at the high school. Alex is taking his first AP class ever. James is pleased to be in 5th grade at the top of his school hierarchy. Matthew is pleased to be in 3rd grade and thus finally achieving "big kid" status. 

So far, I've spent my kid-free time largely doing chores, improving my health, and ministering to others. Not a bad start!