fullsoulahead.com

If You’re Thinking of Beginning a Yoga Practice

Posted on February 18, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

I took my first yoga class in 1998 as an elective when I was in nursing school. Twice a week, I was mandated to be on a mat, for 1.5 hours. Pure heaven for a stressed out student. I have a chronic shoulder problem. All my stress goes to my right shoulder and it gets all tight and contracted and very painful. I’d tried lots of different things to fix it over the years and nothing helped, but yoga did. I was amazed. If I stop yoga, it comes back, but if I am doing it regularly it keeps the shoulder in check. Since then, I have taken a six week session here, a ten week session there. With months and usually years in between them. I tried doing it at home, but found the distractions of little kids and animals almost impossible to contend with.

Last year I bought a limited pass at the yoga studio I currently go to. The first class I went to was a power yoga class and I made the mistake of thinking I’d just modify the poses and I’d be fine. I wasn’t fine. I was killed. It was hard. This was the teacher. I was so not ready for Parker.

And it’s no wonder I had a hard time motivating myself to get back to the studio after that. It wasn’t until the pass was about to expire that I got my butt to the studio. And in order to use it up, I had to go every other day for a month.

If you have not done yoga in a long time or if you are going to start yoga for the first time, take a beginner class. Take a slow flow class. Take a restorative class. Do yourself a favor and don’t take power yoga, hot. You’re just setting yourself up for failure. You have to build up to the likes of Parker!

But that’s the good thing about this studio. There are classes for every level.

And going every other day! Wow. If you go once a week, it’s like starting over every time. It’s hard. You won’t want to go. Going every other day as much as possible has made a huge difference for me. It’s amazing how quickly the body develops strength and balance when used often. In this 40 Days program, I am doing yoga every day for six days, then off on the 7th. Sometimes it’s only a 1/2 hour at home, but I try to get to the studio as often as possible.

You know what I love about yoga? It’s collective, but it’s also so personal. You are there with a group, and it’s great when the room is breathing in sync, really flowing, but no one gives a rip about where anyone else is at. There are going to be people who are really fit, and there are going to be people who are really not. No one cares. There are people with no flexibility. People who are very flexible. There are athletes. There are pregnant people modifying the poses to fit their needs. There are sexy twenty year-olds. There are ladies who lunch. There are overweight people. There are elderly people,(some fit as fiddles). I am always amazed by the splash of humanity that shows up for any given class. Where else would all of us come together? Nowhere.

To me, it is a victory if I just get there. If I get out the door of my house and make it to the studio, and roll out my mat. I’ve already won. Whatever happens after that is gravy.

Cleveland Yoga has amazing teachers. If you want to be inspired, click here and watch some of their videos. Marni’s and Candy’s videos are really cute. And I love Joanne’s. All of them are great,really.

And guess what folks? One day recently Parker’s was the only class I could fit into my schedule. Fearful, I seriously considered staying home. Like, I could hardly walk for a few days last time! But I went. It was challenging, but I kept up. I could do it! And I’ve only been at it seriously for a few months. (Note: we’re not doing in class what she’s doing in the video).

Yoga. With my sporadic history I hardly feel qualified to be giving advice, but I will anyway.

1) Start slow.

2) Go often.

3) Remember to breathe.

There is a spiritual aspect of yoga. Connecting your body and your breath, you can often find glimpses of God while on your mat. You might even beg for God while holding certain poses!

You might also, after a couple of months, walk up to your husband, flex your butt, and say, “Feel my butt!”

And then bask in his being impressed with it’s new firmness.

Hey, it’s not all about enlightenment.

Namaste.

Posted in 40 Days, Uncategorized, yoga | 5 Comments

Day 11

Posted on February 16, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

I got my hair cut yesterday. I got it chopped. Like, it was down mid-back and now it’s not even past my shoulders. I went in, thinking I was getting a trim. And then, right as she was starting to cut, I was all….no, I want something different.

Tonight we had a yoga meal. What’s a yoga meal you say? It’s part of the 40Days workshop. You have to stay in your seat. Whatever you need must be on the table already or you don’t need it. No conversation while chewing. You can have conversation, just not with any food in your mouth. Swallow completely before talking. It’s more challenging than you think. Wait until your food is completely chewed and swallowed before picking up your next bite. No more than two handfuls of food on your plate. Finish those and then wait five minutes before taking any more food. Wait until food is completely digested before eating again.

I have been super wigged out and sad the last several days. I do believe it is because I am not emotionally eating. Great incentive to do a program like this right? You’ll be wigged out and sad! Hurray! But I do feel the sadness lifting. I feel things happening. I cut my hair, a sure indicator of an energy shift! I’m doing yoga everyday (resting on the 7th) and I am noticing my range of motion is greatly improving. I didn’t know I was getting all old and contracted, but I’m feeling very open in my shoulders, noticed particularly when I back the car out of our skinny driveway. Some days I can’t make it to the yoga studio but I practice at home, and shoot for at least twenty minutes. Once I get going, my body tends to ask for more. I wind up doing it for 35-60 minutes. The hardest part is starting.

In class, we start out in child’s pose, and it’s supposed to be restful but that first child’s pose is never restful for me. My hips are so tight. It hurts to “rest” that way. By the end of the class I’m limber, I can melt right into child’s pose. It feels good. I breathe.

I love the rejuvenation classes. I love the slow flow classes. I love the basic classes. I love the “hot” classes. I love having a variety of times and classes to choose from. I love seeing progress. One day I can’t do something and then the next day I can. I love coming home with damp clothes and throwing them down the laundry shoot and taking a wicked hot shower.

The program isn’t about eliminating anything per se. I thought it was going to be like that but it’s not. It’s about being conscious. Knowing yourself better. Making time for yourself. Being more present in the world. Not neglecting yourself.

I think a lot of the sadness, and anger I’ve been feeling is about that. About the neglect. It’s sad when a woman can only muster up enough time to get her hair cut twice a year. It’s sad when she can’t find time to trim, let alone paint her toenails. It’s sad when she’s only had two overnights with her husband in ten years. When she can’t take a shower without a kid coming in to talk her ear off through the curtain. It’s sad when she can’t have an uninterrupted meal or cup of coffee. And sometimes it makes me mad. And then I resist my feelings and pile on the guilt for feeling angry and sad. I have so much! How dare I feel sad or mad.

No clear solutions on how to alleviate my overhwhelm. For now I’ll just keep hitting the mat and see where it takes me.

Namaste. LOL.

Posted in 40 Days, yoga | 10 Comments

Together, 24/7

Posted on February 14, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

What is something in your life that you have an attachment to that is somewhat limiting your vitality?

This was our question to ponder at last night’s 40 Days weekly meeting.

Mine is that I am the only person in the world who can give my children what they need at this time, even if it is ~~killing me~~ somewhat limiting my vitality. I don’t see a clear way out of doing what we are doing presently, but I’m actively considering there might be other ways to live and learn which can work for all of us, including me.

Posted in 40 Days, homeschooling, Parenting, special needs, special needs parenting, yoga | 4 Comments

Whitney’s Dead. I’m assuming it was drug related…

Posted on February 12, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

During the twenty-fifth and final season of her epic talk show, Oprah interviewed Whitney Houston. For Whitney, it was a “comeback” type of thing. For the Oprah show, it was a “big get.”

During the interview, Whitney sat there, pretending to be “clean.” And she was so obviously not. I could smell it all the way through my TV screen. Whitney’s ego was running the show. She made fun of Oprah for not knowing “drug-lingo” and as she explained all about “drugs” to Oprah, she almost appeared wistful. Oprah held Whitney’s hand and told her how sad she was that Whitney’d been mistreated by her ex-husband Bobby Brown. They had a moment, and got all teary together.

And then Whitney mentioned that while she was off “drugs” she still has a few drinks at the hotel bar.

There it was.

That was the moment.

And Oprah, expert at calling people out on their shit, said nothing.

Oprah, who does not need Whitney’s approval, or money, or connections or anything but the “big get,” did not need to coddle the addict Whitney Houston. It made me sick. I thought, Oprah, …why are you letting her get away with that? So, Whitney might storm out of the room. The interview might be lost. So what? I could not believe Oprah Winfrey was afraid of confronting her. An addict cannot just casually go have a few drinks.

No.

They continued, and they had Whitney’s teenage daughter stand up and talk about how proud she was of her mom. Puh-lease. That girl had to know her mom was still a mess.

And yes, I don’t know what goes into making an Oprah Winfery show. I don’t know if there was a clause or something where Oprah wasn’t allowed to ask certain questions or go certain places. And I know Oprah didn’t have a thing to do with causing Whitney’s addiction. Knowing Oprah’s benevolence, she’d probably done plenty behind the scenes to try and help her. I have no idea. I love Oprah and think what she has done to uplift the planet is beyond what can be measured.

But from my limited view, she dropped the ball here.

Because when no one calls an addict on their shit, they die.

If everyone, including someone as powerful as Oprah Winfrey was afraid of speaking up to Whitney Houston, what prayer did she have, really? Whitney needed a Gayle.

At a young age, I estranged myself from my father. I said no. I will not have you in my life with your dysfunction. Knowing addiction is an illness, I have often felt guilty for putting up such a severe wall. I had to make a choice, him or me, and I picked me. I’ve often felt like if I were more spiritual, more loving, more forgiving, better somehow, I could swing it…but I couldn’t.

No more thinking like that. Enabling an addict is an act of cowardice, not an act of love. You can forgive someone and understand someone and even love them and tell them NO. I’ll have no part of this.

For every addict out there, there are people enabling them. Perhaps if more people stood up to the addicts in their lives, called them out on their unacceptable behavior, they’d be forced to look at themselves.

So a million reasons went into Whitney Houston’s death. I don’t really blame Oprah, (the person) for what happened to Whitney. But that interview represents for me, all the other times when someone was afraid to speak the truth to an addict. That interview to me, represents how addicts get away with continuing to use, and why they die.

Posted in adult children of alcoholics, alcoholism, Uncategorized | 14 Comments

I’m a little loopy after IVIG, but Seth…he’s fine.

Posted on February 9, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Seth had his third IVIG infusion today and it went well. Todd made sure to get the morning off so he was there for moral support. We went at a slower rate, and even had to slow that down when I noted Seth getting antsy (which was the first sign he was having a problem last time). As soon as they lowered the rate, he was fine. He’s a little trooper and so is his sister who sat there in the tiny room for the four hours it took. (She has her iPod and snacks so it isn’t exactly torture, but it’s a long time to sit).

I am exhausted and didn’t realize how much I was “holding” as in energy, as in worry, as in the weight of the world, until after it was over and I knew he was safe. Presently, I feel like I could nap for a week. Thank you for keeping him in your thoughts and prayers.

My 40 Days program. Let’s see. They want you to keep a food diary and what I’ve discovered is I mostly eat scraps. I make the kids a meal and eat what they don’t. I rarely have a nice, present, sit down, calm meal. I am so burned out from cooking. For so many years I had to make every little morsel from scratch. And as the mom, I sit down at the table and someone needs this, and someone needs that, and someone needs to be told to chew with their mouth shut, again, and someone spills something and it is never really relaxing for me. I hate being interrupted a bunch of times while I’m eating. And HT’s schedule is so all over the place, he’s not home for dinner half the time, and Seth doesn’t like anything and dinner has become this thankless, stressful obligation, so I slap it on the table like a short order cook and eat “what’s left.”

Kind of horrid if I really think about it. I want to teach my kids to be present when they eat. I want to have lovely conversations at dinner. Is that just a Norman Rockwell pipe dream? Does anyone really do that? What I often am at dinner is annoyed. And whooped. And so I’d rather just not bother. I don’t like eating when I’m irritated (unless it’s chocolate ice cream…then full throttle baby). Or I eat late with Todd, right before bed, nachos, buttered popcorn, etc.) and there’s a bad idea for you.

So I’m thinking I have to be the grown up here, and set the tone. Involve the kids more in dinner prep. Make a prettier presentation. Let them “get” for themselves so I’m not up and down during meals. And most definitely not wait for the man of the house to be home to feed myself. I need to treat myself with as much care as I would dear friend.

Would I ever have Amy or Melinda over and offer them the scraps of leftover mac & cheese from the kids’ dinner plates? Or maybe give em’ a spoon and let them have at it right out of the pan, standing in the kitchen? Or serve them the crusts off a kid’s sandwich? Or give them a half eaten yogurt? Or a half eaten bowl of cereal?

I would not.

You know why?

Scraps are for hogs. And compost heaps. Not friends. I need to be more of a friend to myself.

I am not a hog or a compost heap.

That might be my new mantra.

Say it with me.

Lovingly yours,

MO’N

Posted in 40 Days, appreciation, IGG deficiency, IVIG, special needs parenting, Uncategorized, yoga | 11 Comments

40 Days

Posted on February 7, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

This is how it happens to me. I have an inkling. Some little voice, tapping at me. Do it. I try to talk myself out of it. A million reasons why it isn’t “the time.” Then I find myself on a mountain in Colorado taking a writing workshop for a week, no electricity, no phone. That was almost nine years ago and I have not stopped writing since.

So… I’ve been courting the idea of taking the 40 Days to Personal Revolution program at the yoga studio I attend. I know hardly anything about it. I think you’re supposed to cut out caffeine and sugar (shoot me now) and some other things. You are supposed to be more mindful. Yoga and meditation are involved. I bought the book a couple of months back. Skimmed it lightly. Set it down. It sat there on the night stand, under a pile of other books.

The thought would come to me, and I’d dismiss it. I could not justify the cost of the program, on top of the payment I am making for monthly unlimited yoga. (Back in November, I decided I was really ready to commit after taking yoga sporadically for years).

Then, last night, just a couple of hours before the 40 Days program was to start, I got an email, and it said, with monthly unlimited membership, the workshop is free.

Tap. Tap.

So there I was last night sitting in a group of roughly 30-40 people, about to begin my “personal revolution.”

This should be interesting.

Posted in appreciation, spirituality, Uncategorized, yoga | 9 Comments

Meaningful Jewelry for your Valentine

Posted on February 4, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

There is still time to get the woman in your life beautiful affordable jewelry from artist/designer Zoey March before Valentine’s Day. Zoey is a dear friend of mine from my DC days.

But you should only order her jewelry if your true-love likes words. Or music. Or both. Only if she cares deeply about her world. Only if she’s kind of cool, in a nerdy/artsy sort of way. Or if she’s a “brainy blonde.” Or if she’s an “evil genius” or a “story teller.” Or if she has a thing for owls.

The courageous, the wild, the free…there will definitely be something for them to love at Zoey’s Etsy shop.

She’s even got a few pieces for dudes.

Zoey March. Meaningful Jewelry.

You can order all the way through next week.

Even if, especially if, your Valentine is yourself.

Love.

Posted in appreciation, beauty, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Do No Harm (Phenergan IV Push)

Posted on February 3, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Since Seth’s bad reaction to his IVIG I have tried to get in contact with the doctor who ordered it. He was not there the day of the reaction. Another doctor was on call. I wanted to make sure he knew about it, and I wanted some reassurance about running the IV at a slower rate next time, and of course, I wanted to ask him about the Phenergan IV push in case, God forbid, his nurses were running it in like that without his knowledge. He didn’t return my phone message. He didn’t acknowledge my email. We have another infusion scheduled for next week, so I called again yesterday. The nurse said he’d probably want us to come in to talk to him. He doesn’t talk on the phone.

“My child doesn’t need to be examined. I need to talk to the doctor,” I said, incredulously. For God’s sake. Riley’s orthodontist called the night she got her braces to see how she was doing. Seth has a severe reaction to an infusion and this guy doesn’t even bother to follow up? And wants us to pay for an office visit to talk to him about it? Hell no.

Somehow the nurse convinced him to come to the phone. The following is my remembrance of the conversation:

Me: I’m very disappointed that you never got back to me after Seth’s last infusion.

Him: I’m very busy. I get hundreds of calls per day. I can’t get back to everyone. I’ve got people coming from all over the country. We’re the only ones doing this for miles. I’ve got people coming all the way from Kentucky to see me. I try to get back to as many as a I can, but I can’t get back to everyone. In twenty years of doing IVIG, I’ve never seen a reaction like this. Never the vomiting and explosive (paraphrased, he said some medical term for explosive liquid) diarrhea.

Me: All the more reason to follow up with the parents, if his reaction was so rare.

Him: I think we have to consider the possibility it was the flu.

Oh.

My.

God.

Me: He was fine before the infusion. He was back to his old self within an hour of being home. He was fine until the rate of his IV was increased. He got better as soon as it was decreased. He did not have the flu.

Him: It’s just that we’ve never seen this kind of reaction. He may not be able to continue with the infusions.

I got the distinct feeling he didn’t want to continue with me.

Me: But we were able to finish the infusion. Once the rate was reduced, we finished it and he did fine. I want to make sure that his next infusion is run at the slowest rate.

Him: Yes, we can keep it at a slow rate. And I can order Zofran (the anti-nausea med I requested last time, but didn’t get, and instead Seth got Phenergan IV push).

Me: So let’s address the Phenergan issue.

Did he really order it IV push, or is his nurse giving it the wrong way?

Him: We’ve always given Phenergan IV push. We’ve been doing it that way for twenty years.

Scary.

Me: But it’s no longer standard practice. A quick Google search will show you a bunch of class action lawsuits. They don’t do it like that in the hospitals anymore. My husband is a hospital pharmacist and he says it’s not been given that route in at least ten years.

Has he really done no continuing education?

Him: We’ve always done it that way and have never had any problems.

Me: If you have never had any problems with giving Phenergan IV push, then you’ve been lucky, and you are playing Russian Roulette.

Him: We’ve always done it that way and have never had a problem.

Oh.

My.

God.

He apparently has no intention of doing it any differently.

Him: If you don’t feel comfortable with our practice, then maybe you need to go somewhere else.

Me: But you just told me you are the only game in town. Where else would you suggest we go?

Him: I’m just saying, if you aren’t comfortable with us, maybe it isn’t the right fit.

Me: Are you saying you don’t want to treat my son because I am questioning you?

Him: No, I’m not saying that.

Me: I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to help your patients by bringing to your attention what can happen if you give Phenergan IV push. GRAPHIC PICTURES MAKE SURE YOU HAVE THE STOMACH BEFORE YOU CLICK.

I want to make sure if we come for Seth’s infusion next week, that the rate will be slow, and he will get Zofran, rather than Phenergan.

Him: Yes, we can do that, but we’ll have to order it. We don’t carry Zofran typically.

Me: Okay. Order it.

We left it that we would be coming, but I’m not sure. Todd thinks we should not deny Seth this opportunity to heal. It takes three or four infusions before benefits are typically seen and Seth’s been really suffering. Todd made sure he took the day off so both of us can be there to supervise and monitor Seth. He wants to just use this place for what we need it for. We’ll keep an eye on the rate and the medications ourselves.

I don’t know. My confidence in them is lost. If Seth has another reaction, or God forbid anaphylaxis or something like that, do I trust them to save my child? It’s not in a hospital. It’s at a doctor’s office. It’s not like they can just zip him down the hall to the ER.

I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I am sick of being forced to make such weighty decisions. Sick of my child being sick. Sick of big ego doctors and healers and therapists and no one having a freaking clue. With few exceptions they all think they are the “answer” except there has been no answer. Seth’s incontinent. He can’t sleep. He’s too scared to go upstairs to the bathroom in our house anymore, unless someone comes with him. And the tics. The endless tics. His ribs hurt. His jaw hurts. His vocal tic is non-stop.

And while I am sick of them not knowing, I can accept it. We don’t know what we don’t know.

It’s the arrogance that gets to me.

* Professional guitarist, Diana Levine lost an arm after being given phenergan IV push.

Posted in IGG deficiency, IVIG, PANDAS, Phenergan IV push, special needs parenting, Uncategorized | 15 Comments

Pinterest and the Law of Attraction

Posted on February 2, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Pinterest.

You kind of have to do it to really understand it. Basically you can take whatever images appeal to you and post them to different boards(of your creation), and categorize the boards anyway you want, and create really cool and inspiring collections. You can lift just about any image off the Internet to do it, and it links back to the site, thus crediting the source and driving traffic their way.

I’m new to it. Just joined last week, but I am loving it. To me it is one big vision board. One big pretty place, where people pin their dreams. It’s heavenly.

According to Law of Attraction, you get what you focus on. So if you are focusing on the pain and suffering of the world, you are creating more of it. Not to say you shouldn’t note the world’s dark side, and help in whatever way you can, but often we don’t. Often, we just wallow in the pain part and worry about the awful, thus creating more of it.

Pinterest is a place to focus on what pleases you.

It’s a little nook where it is okay to dream. And you get to glimpse at and be inspired by other people’s dreams. And it just keeps expanding and expanding and expanding.

And did I mention it’s pretty?

It is. So, pretty.

I love that people are pinning, dreaming beautiful dreams. Focusing on what interests them. I love the idea of a never ending vision board. I love all those hearts singing.

It makes me feel hopeful and happy.

*Photo I pinned on the “Beautiful World” board I created, on Pinterest. Seth on the beach in Playa del Carmen. Happy, happy.

Posted in appreciation, law of attraction, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

I love me some Cory Booker

Posted on February 1, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

He’s intelligent. He’s elegant.

In my book he 100% cancels out Jersey Shore.

Civil rights. They’re for everyone.

Posted in gay rights, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Reading follow up

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

This evening, I had the most wonderful follow up phone chat with Terre (my fellow reader the other night). She’s done lots of readings before and said she’s never seen one with as much warmth as the folks that turned out for us on Saturday showed.

She said I was held by that warmth during the reading (and after at the restaurant), and it made sense that when the tide went out, and I was alone, for me to feel super exposed and vulnerable. I’m doing much better tonight. I made brownies and watched a movie with my family this evening. Bit by bit I’m feeling less wigged out.

The good news is the warmth. What amazing people I know here in Cleveland. I am left feeling truly, so blessed.

Posted in Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments

The Reading

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

There is a scene in my book, where I bought this really sexy dress to impress my boyfriend on New Year’s Eve. I was 17. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Then, on the big day, I was so uncomfortable with the attention the sexy dress garnered, I wore a coat all night to cover it up, and wound up leaving the party early.

The scene kept coming to me as my reading drew closer. There is the idea of “attention” and it’s great, and then the reality of it is really uncomfortable. I felt sick with nervous energy prior to the reading. It’s one thing to write behind the safety of your computer screen. It’s another to be vulnerable sharing your work face to face.

But then people started coming and there were so many friendly faces. If you are an author and you want people to come to your readings, join a women’s chorus. They will come. My Windsong sisters were there in large numbers to support me. Many who could not make it sent emails of congratulations and encouragement. Thank you Windsong!

So many friends from so many different areas of my life were there. People from our public school days, lots of homeschool friends. Neighbors. Friends I have not seen in months and didn’t think would be able to make it showed up. My heart was very full of appreciation and I do think it is time to give up the tired old belief that I do not have a support system, because it sure felt like I had a community there.

The woman who read with me is a poet named Terre Maher. She went first and the audience listened raptly as she read a prose piece about a family dinner she and her siblings experienced with her hostile father, all while her mother lay dying of cancer in an upstairs bedroom. It was very moving, the way her child-self disassociated from the drama at the table, and then the tenderness between she and her mother as she answered her mom’s call bell, her escape from the dinner table.

I mentioned in an earlier post how Terre and I had a lot in common. One in particular of course is we grew up with severely wounded fathers. What we found out in our phone conversation earlier in the week is we are from the same hometown! Her family is from Binghamton, NY. They moved when she was little but returned every summer to visit her vast extended family. Of all the people in all the world who would be reading together, what are the odds? I wish I had thought to get a picture of us together, but I didn’t have on my thinking cap for such details at that point in the night! (Most of the pics in this post are from after the reading).

Next, it was my turn. One of my favorite parts of the evening was when I just flat out admitted I was nervous and said I was going to take a breath, and the whole audience spontaneously took a deep breath with me. It immediately put me at ease. Deliberate breathers are good people.

My neighbor Heidi gave me a reassuring wink. I felt a hug from Lidi halfway back to my left. Kirsten was in the front. Meg smiled. HT met my eyes. Cindy nodded.

Once I got rolling, I felt okay. Sure, in my head earlier in the day, I’d had all of these pithy little things I was going to interject (and they all went out the window), but I didn’t faint. I read three pieces, one about a huge fight I had with my father when I was about ten years old, over the TV show Laverne & Shirley, one on a transcendent moment I had as a child while on an inner tube on a lake, and a final piece about how I got to college against all odds, due to the generosity of a boyfriend’s parents.

Many people said I didn’t appear nervous. It seems I have a good poker face.

A whole bunch of us went out for dinner after.

HT worked ’til 11PM Friday, then got up and went to work at 6AM Saturday so he could have the evening off and come to the reading. He then worked at 6AM Sunday after going out the night before. Looking at this picture just fills me with love and gratitude for him. For being there, for dealing with all my neurosis leading up to the reading, and also in the aftermath of it Sunday. Because there was fallout. I seriously had a hard time with all the vulnerability the event drummed up in me and felt like crawling into a hole to hide on Sunday.

I wanted nothing more than to put a big thick coat over my sexy dress.

My ego got hold of me. I questioned myself. I wished I had not used certain words during the reading, (“balls,” I was quoting someone, “assholes,” all mine). I watched a few minutes of video HT took and noted my mouth looks strange when I talk. I questioned whether I am just damaged and starved for attention and is that why I felt compelled to write this book? Is it why I blog? Am I mean or vindictive writing about my father when I know he is so very wounded and ill? I felt ripped open and raw and was so very hard on myself. And I had this strange feeling all day of needing my mom.

I have not allowed myself to “need” my mom in over twenty years.

Around 8PM, I called her.

She reassured me of the value of my writing. Even if it is painful for her or my father. She reassured me it is good for me to write and to share our experience. She said I have no idea who it might help. She reassured me I am good.

She mothered me.

I let her.

She shared more of her story than I had known. She shared her regrets.

She said to give all my worry and self-doubt to God.

It’s okay for me to write my truth. It’s okay for me to share it. I don’t even have to understand the whole picture.

It’s okay for me to shine.

Posted in adult children of alcoholics, appreciation, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, memoir, Uncategorized, Windsong, writing | 11 Comments

I did not faint

Posted on January 29, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

The photo below was taken by my friend and neighbor Heidi, (@highhoney if you want to follow her on Twitter, and you’ll want to because she’s funny)before the reading got started.

It went well. Busy day ahead. Will post more about it when I catch a minute. Still processing. Thank you for your good thoughts!

Lovingly yours,

MO’N

Posted in appreciation, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments

“Mommy will never forget you…”

Posted on January 26, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

We are half way through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth book. So far, I’ve read every one of them out loud to my children. Sometimes we snuggle up on the bed. Sometimes I read during their dinner, if HT’s getting home later and I plan on eating separately with him. These are thick books and it is taxing sometimes, but I love it. I do. I especially love when we grab something from our reading and keep it with us.

In the first Harry Potter book, Hagrid the giant is forced to give up the baby dragon he’s been raising. It is dangerous and out of control, and it just has to go:

Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mommy will never forget you!”

It’s funny because Hagrid is a big ogre, but he’s taken on the role of mommy to the dragon, and he’s nothing but a softy. Oh how the kids laughed at that line.

This has become my standard farewell. Whether I am going away for a day, a weekend, or just to get groceries or to yoga for an hour, I fake sob in a low Hargrid voice to the kids,

“Mommy will never forget you!”

They fake sob back, hugging me with all they’ve got.

It is a ritual which will hopefully be passed down for many generations. If Seth has kids I’m suspecting they’ll especially love it. It will be even funnier coming from a daddy.

Posted in appreciation, family, Parenting, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Reading at Mac’s Backs

Posted on January 25, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar

This Saturday at Mac’s Backs, I have my first reading ever. I’m trying not to over-think it. I’m trying not to under-think it. I want to be prepared. I sort of feel like I’ve gotten on a roller coaster ride and it’s edging up the mountain and I’m all… on second thought….can we stop this thing? I’m not so sure about this. But it will all be okay.

It will be fine. Fine.

I know plenty of writers who do readings all the time and act like it’s no big deal, but they must have had a first time. And I bet they were at least a little scared. And my book is really personal.

I’ll be reading with another writer, Terre Maher. We spoke on the phone the other day and she seems lovely. That helps. We discovered in our conversation that we have much in common. Weird Stuff. No accidents stuff. I’ll tell you about it after the reading, unless you live in Cleveland and want to come. Then you’ll find out on Saturday.

Wish me luck. Wish that my lip or eye doesn’t start to twitch. Wish that I don’t read too fast. Wish that people show up. Wish that I wasn’t such a nervous Nelly.

You know, it’s strange. I used to work in radio. I had a White House press pass. I interviewed “important” people and my pieces were played on radio stations all over the country. Outwardly, I was intimidated by no one. I was once chastised by my boss for “not being awestruck enough” about covering the President’s State of the Union address. My reply to him was,

“These Congressional Reps and Senators sit down on the can like everyone else.”

One of my young colleagues almost did a spit-take over that one. The kahunas of my younger self astound me. But the bravado I used to carry around in my twenties has long since burned off. That’s a good thing. Bravado is just masked insecurity afterall.

Now it’s just me, being more real, which means sometimes being afraid.

Reading aloud from my memoir in public is a little scary but so what?

It will be fine. Fine.

It totally will.

Mac’s Backs
7PM Jan. 28th
1820 Coventry Rd.
Cleveland Heights

Posted in adult children of alcoholics, appreciation, Cleveland, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, indie publishing, memoir, Uncategorized, writing | 13 Comments

Using Technology to Communicate with Your Developmentally Disabled Child

Posted on January 23, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

On Feb. 14th, Elizabeth Aquino, writer of the beautiful blog a moon worn as if it had been a shell, will be co-hosting a webinar on using technology to communicate with your developmentally disabled child.

Details can be found in the link above. I have so much respect for families of non-verbal and pre-verbal children. The love they give, despite not getting to hear “I love you” back verbally is so moving to me. They are true examples of “unconditional love” (often talked about but less frequently seen) walking around on this planet.

It’s fitting the webinar takes place on Valentine’s Day. A day earmarked for love.

Posted in special needs, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Lube, Sugar Water and Shrinkage

Posted on January 22, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Yippee had a bit of a “problem” recently.

We don’t know how it happened, no one saw a thing, but suddenly, Yippee was very “out there” and it would not go back “in there.”

This is how I found myself, at the request of the vet, rubbing lubricating jelly on Yip’s junk last week.

It seemed to help. I’m nothing if not thorough.

And then, what do you know? The next day it was out again, and not going back in. This time the vet suggested more lubrication. And when that didn’t work, she suggested sugar water.

This is how I found myself dabbing Yip’s special area with a cotton ball loaded with sugar water, and what do you know? It really did go in a bit, but not all the way. And Google told me if it stayed out too long, there could be serious damage. Like necrotic tissue, and gangrenous infection, and death. And since Seth and Yip are brothers, that’s not really an option. Yip can’t die.

So on Friday, after the sugar water only proved partially effective, the vet told us to come in. So before we left, I took Yip out to pee, and as he stepped his little paws in the freezing cold snow, what do you know? Shrinkage.

Seinfeld: You know about shrinkage don’t you?

Elaine: They shrink? I don’t know how guys walk around with those things.

Hurray!

We were told to “watch” him all weekend.

Yippee appears to be good as new.

I however, am still recovering.

Thank you for listening.

Posted in chihuahua penis, chihuahuas, Uncategorized | 12 Comments

“It takes a child to raise a village…”

Posted on January 20, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

In a recent dedication ceremony at Agape International Spiritual Center in LA, the little girl being welcomed into the community is a RIOT. Her name is Lucia.

Click here, and just below the pause button you can drag the video to around 44 minutes to see her (though the whole service is worth watching).

What a miracle she is. How could she be born in Ethiopia, make it all the way to LA and steal the show at her tender age? How inspired are Rev. Michael Bernard Beckwith’s words! I watched this after posting about Riley advocating for herself in the dentist’s chair. How inspired I was by her, as were many of you who commented. When Rev. Michael said during the ceremony, “It takes a child to raise a village.” Yes indeed, I thought. It’s the kids who are raising us. Raising us to new levels of consciousness.

Lucia… baby girl who was dedicated last week at Agape, I don’t know you, but I love you.

What a powerful, powerful child. Your being has already greatly multiplied the love on the planet. And you can’t even be more than two.

Posted in appreciation, spirituality, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Lydia and Elsie P.

Posted on January 19, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

Our friend Lydia’s beloved cat has died. If you don’t know her, Lydia is a young adult who has autism. She is a fine author and blogger. Although Elsie P. was ill, she stuck around for the longest time, held here by the sheer strength of Lydia’s love. Elsie P. is free from her pain now, but Lydia is hurting. Please go by her blog and offer her some love today.

Posted in Love., special needs, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Gentle, gentle

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Michelle O'Neil

So the other day when Seth had a bad reaction to his IVIG infusion, Todd slipped out during the ordeal and took Riley to the orthodontist before they closed for the weekend. It was imperative they correct a couple of stray wires that had come loose and were poking Riley in the cheek like needles.

She’d had the braces less than 24 hours and her mouth was sore, not just from the poking wires, but from the whole thing.

She sat bravely in the chair as the professional fiddled with her braces, and according to HT, at one point Riley suddenly stopped her and said sweetly but with conviction,

“Excuse me, could you be a little more gentle with me please?”

How many adults would be courageous enough and/or feel justified to stand up for themselves in this way? She didn’t fly off the handle. She didn’t heap any judgement on it. She didn’t melt down. She just asked for what she needed and got it.

What would it be like if we routinely asked others to be more gentle with us? What if, the next time we were about to make a self-deprecating remark we stopped and asked our inner critic, “Excuse me, could you be a little more gentle with me please?”

Posted in appreciation, Asperger's, special needs parenting, Uncategorized | 15 Comments