A little bit crazy ~updated~

I've been reading a lot lately, I've come across some interesting references.  The latest was in the book Fallout by Ellen Hopkins.  It is actually the third in a series, but I haven't read the first two.  It is written from the perspective of 3 children of the same meth addict although they live very different lives. (the first 2 in the series are written from the meth addicts perspective) One of the daughters talks about OCD, panic attacks and being "just a little bit crazy".  It got me thinking about myself and my own "little bit of crazy".

I've often eluded to my OCD, I've joked about my obsessions, mentioned my superstitions, but I'm not sure if I've ever really taken the time to let people understand although part of me is kidding, a larger part is not.

For as long as I can remember I've had little superstitions, but not what some might expect.  It's not the normal lucky rabbits foot, or saying "rabbit rabbit" on the first of the month to bring good luck all month. (Thanks D for that one, I still remember you telling me your dad did that every month when we were in grade 3) it's not avoiding the number 13, or not walking user ladders. (Although that does make me uncomfortable)

Mine center around objects.  Around random mundane things.  Logically I know luck isn't based on what hair elastic I use, or what pair of underwear I wear, but in my little bit of crazy mind, these things matter. 

It spreads like wild fire and enters other parts of my life.  I keep a cleaning schedule because it is an obsession I can't ignore.  Very rarely have I ever been able to turn this off, but having kids has helped it. I have had to let some things go, at least in the short term to still allow my kids to be kids, explore and play, but as soon as they are done with an activity, it is like something is not right in my world.  I need to clean it up.  I need to make it right again.

I noticed this most recently when my hubby J offered to help while we prepared to host Christmas dinner with family.  I knew I wasn't going to clean like crazy because in all reality I'd just need to do it again once everyone left, but still things needed to be freshened up. Joel laughed at me because what started with "I'm just going to clean the bathrooms" turned into a full out clean in some areas. But that's not what I noticed.  When I noticed my little bit of crazy start talking to me was when Joel offered to vacuum the downstairs.  It's something I can usually let Joel do, so I happily took him up on his offer.  Until I came downstairs.  I could feel the voice start talking.  I could tell my palms were getting sticky and I knew I had two choices. 

So how do you mess up vacuuming a room?  Well you don't really.  Except when I vacuum I use straight lines.  Our carpet it the type that the vacuum leaves marks, and I need those lines to be straight.  To be even.  To be present.  While J did vacuum his way, his way included random lines.  To him, as long as it was all done, who cared where he started and ended?! Except he forgot about the monster that lives inside of me.  I realized as I walked down the stairs and my immediate reaction was to re vacuum a just vacuumed floor that my crazy was talking too loudly.  It was time to take some time away, go back up stairs and not think about it.  Although it took EVERY piece of me not to redo something my hubby so sweetly did for me, it was hard. 

It is hard to put these feelings into words.  I've never had to before.  I'm not even sure if my own parents realize how I deal with these things on a daily basis.   J notices it and sometimes comments, but I try to let some feelings and urges simmer.  I have it easy from a lot of people, I don't wash my hands 17 times, but I do make sure the volume on the TV is on an even number (unless it is a, multiple of 5, then an exception is made, except for 5 itself).  I don't unlock and lock the doors over and over again, but I do wait for the garage door to close all the way before getting out of sight.  I don't count how many brush strokes I use daily to brush my hair, but I do keep track of certain clothing options that can not go together because of what might occur, underwear that I deem "bad luck", and sunglasses that have been thrown away because of the days outcome when I wore them.

It's funny because even though I know most people probably do not have these little habits in their life, I am finding it hard to recall them as I write.  I need to think really hard about the things I do because ultimately I do them because I feel that's the way it should be.

I don't really have an ending to this post, so I'll just leave it as here is a little insight into my life and hopefully you can better understand me as a person.

Grateful

Recently I read an interesting and somewhat offensive article about raising grateful children.  It got me thinking about how I raise my girls.  I teach them manners, yes, but so I show them to be grateful?  Am I a good role model?  Well according to the article only a bit.  (here's where I got offended)

I do my best to show the girls the art of being kind and doing kind things to and for others.  We have done little gestures like leave cookies or cupcakes that we made together at relatives doors, we've donated to our local food bank and hamper both home made and other food items that were in need.  When we have birthdays or Christmas we take as many toys that are received and coming into the home from our "old" toys and donate them to a shelter for women who are leaving abusive relationships.  We've done other gestures like surprise a family member with a clean house when we knew they needed a lift.  We volunteer our time when we can including sorting baby packages for crisis pregnancy families and helping with a local moms group.  We use our resources to spread love to others as best we can.  And in my case I can confidently say I think I'm successful at this.  I work hard, and I feel like my girls are not only polite, but get that giving is important.  If not financially then by gestures that can simply brighten someones day.

So why was I offended?  Well it talked about living frugally and teaching children to appreciate all they have without having anything flashy.  This as a family, we fail at.  Not because we want bigger and better, but because J lives in a room 4 weeks at a time.  A ROOM.  Not a small house, not a room with a private bathroom, A SINGLE ROOM.  He showers with others every day, he goes to the bathroom in a room full of men, he eats with many other people at his table.  This may or may not seem like a big deal to some, but if you knew my husband's personally and his true dislike for people (really there is no way to beat around the bush when it comes to this), you'd understand how hard this life is for him.  So why do it?!  He LOVES the work.  He starts talking about mining, the equipment, the guys, and you can see him, he's excited.  He really loves what he does.  But with that comes apart that he doesn't like, so when it came to buying a house he was fairly particular.  He wanted certain things contained in that house. Now it wasn't all him, I liked the house too.  Actually I was the original one to see it.  But I still feel like my kids can appreciate and be grateful living in the home they live in, watching the tv that is larger than it needs to be, playing outside in an over sized yard, and playing with more toys than anyone really needs.

Now will I let this article ruin my day, or change how I raise my kids? no.  But did it make me look on my life and realize I am doing something good with them.  Even something amazing.  i am teaching them not only to be poliet, and to be grateful, but to be kind and generous.  I am teaching them that we can enjoy what we have and still share with others.  We can help when we are called upon, and even sometimes when we are not.  I am teaching them responsibility, and I instill values that are important to me.  I passed along my need for clean, but that's okay. The girls know to clean up their toys before we go out, Big M makes her bed, and little M helps with laundry. 

I think I sometimes doubt myself, I doubt what I'm doing with my kids.  I doubt if I'm teaching them enough, or playing with them enough, but in the end I can honestly say I think I'm doing ok.  Who knows how they will turn out, but I'm happy with who they are today.