Through the Buttonhole

Perception is everything. How a person perceives the world around them is entirely based upon the filters they are looking through. How a person chooses to react to that perception of the world tells you everything about who they are, where they've been, and where they are headed.

In my never ending quest to balance classy with creepy (in fabulous shoes), I decided that I would be Coraline's Other Mother for Halloween. I also knew that the whole costume would fully depend upon whether or not I could pull off the button eyes. After much experimenting, I finally decided that using spirit gum to attach buttons directly to my face was the only way I could properly do it.



I was very happy with the way the costume turned out, and could actually see more through the buttonholes than I had anticipated. Unfortunately, my depth perception and peripheral vision were severely compromised. Simply put, I had a very narrow view of the world. I was fascinated.

What a grand social experiment, to view the world through the holes of a button, to see how my perception of the world changed based on how I was seeing things. Indeed, the world around me went through some interesting changes.

I moved a little more slowly yet with more purpose. My actions were more thought out and a bit more planned. Mentally, I felt somewhat stunted. Without my peripheral vision, I couldn't tell if someone who wasn't in my direct line of vision was talking to me or someone behind me. There were several times I responded to questions that were being posed to someone else. I was a little dizzy and a little confused. My perception of the world around me had changed because my circumstances had changed.

Dorothy may have gone to Oz, and Alice may have gone through the looking glass, but last night, I went through the buttonhole. I had the opportunity to shift my perception, have the experience, then remove the buttons, and return to my normal viewpoint. I actually felt fortunate to have the ability to take away the buttons and see my world as I had only a few hours prior. It was a relief to remove the filter I had been looking through and find Tank Girl, Everett, a sexy kitten, a ghostbuster, and my "crazy" boyfriend all standing there chatting and laughing... exactly as my memory was waiting to find them.

In short, perception is a tenuous thing. Even the most minor changes in one's mental or physical setting can severely distort one's perception of reality. Many times, if we were able to take a step back, stop pointing fingers and casting blame, and instead question our own perceptions, we might be able to avoid some of the dizziness and confusion in our lives. We cling to a perceived reality as if there is no possible alternative, without realizing that sometimes all we need to do is remove the buttons.

NaBloPoMo

Ladies and Gents, it is upon us again! Welcome to November and National Blog Posting Month (also, National Novel Writing Month... but I'm not that committed). It is that time of year where many of us sit down for a bit of time every day and write something.

Do I have the time to do this? No.
Do I have the desire to do it for the third year in a row? Yes.

It may not be every day, but I promise it will be as much as I can.

So, raise a glass and toast November... here's to biting off more than you can chew... and enjoying every minute of it.

Fluffy Jo Thefish

I have sad news.

My good friend Fluffy Jo Thefish has gone to that great puddle in the sky. Yes my friends, Good'ol Fluffy has passed from our world, and into whatever world is next for little fighting fishies.

Okay, honestly, he was a fish. Not a bad fish as far as pet fish go, but it isn't like he cuddled with me at night, or tickled my heartstrings with his flippers... he was a fish. He sat on my desk at work for a couple of months, and was regularly tormented by my students. So much so that when I brought him home over spring break, he actually changed color, and became a much more friendly creature. Thus, he became a new household pet. He seemed much happier on the shelf in the kitchen and Teh ShortBus thought it was cool to have a fish, so Fluffy became part of the family.

Fluffy had not been looking at all well in the days leading up to last weekend; slightly pale, not very active or interested in food, pouting. I had a feeling he was on his way out, and when we arrived home Sunday night indeed he was afloat, belly up. Of course, I grieved in my own way: texting his namesake, and letting her know that little tiny sushi was on the menu for the night. Fluffy would have wanted it that way. I thought briefly of the ShortBus, and figured if he noticed, then I would explain it to him.

Apparently, he noticed. I would love to say I was there, that I was the one with him to talk with him about it, that I explained it to him and he understood. I would love to say that I am the one with the story about how he asked if he could say good bye, and when told yes he went outside and yelled toward the sky, "Good-bye Fluffy! I love you!"

Alas... it was not me. Once again, I was not there for one of the Very Important moments in my child's life. CSB did a fabulous job discussing it with him and explaining it to him, and I'm happy he did. In fact, I can not thank him enough for the care and concern he showed the ShortBus, he really is a kind and brilliant man. The problem is, he isn't me. Those moments which are so important in the moment, I am missing out on more and more of them.

Not only with the divorce, and my having to go back to work, and having to go back to school so I can continue to work, but also just by virtue of a child growing up. More and more of those times begin to happen outside of our home.

As a stay at home mom, I was lucky enough to experience hundreds of firsts. I savored each one, cherished it as my own before sharing it with everyone else. I knew that I wouldn't always get every single first, I would have to share those moments. It seems like forever ago that my parents called to tell me they had given ShortBus his very first taste of ice cream. I had the opportunity to experience that first through their eyes, and I was thrilled that they were able to have a first of their own. At the same time though, I was sad that I hadn't been there to see it. As the firsts get fewer and further between, they seem to carry a bit more weight and importance. I know I will still get to be there on occasion when they happen, but as our children grow older they begin to start experiencing those firsts on their own.

It is scary to look at a five-year old and think, "I hope I have done my job well enough that he can begin to make the right choices on his own." But, if we've done it right, as parents, we start to pull away and let our little fishies venture out of the puddle... little by little. They test those waters on their own, and have those first experiences with the other important people in their lives, and maybe... just maybe... a mother's heart will survive the trauma of her baby growing up.