Posted on in book, epilepsy

No Title.

Epilepsy is a modern mystery left to man and an exhausting condition on its best days. Please note I am not complaining. Not my style. And I know I am lucky. I have it all, an advanced degree, career, driver’s license, and one kid. That was all we were granted, and probably the reason I teach. I also have an unnatural desire to organize toys, anyone’s toys. Not epilepsy related but it’s as if my mothering was done before my time. I was always longed for more children but one and done was logical. So if you got toys, give me a call. Or if you need additional mothering as my kid would like a break. Let me know. He is a good sport. 

My story like others begins out of true fear. No one teaches epilepsy in school. Diabetes, yes. Epilepsy, no. My first experience was riding on a city bus to my figure skating lesson, oh yes. I was sporty too. A woman burst on the bus and screamed, “I am epileptic move.” Now, I was eleven and currently experiencing auras on a daily basis in quiet fear. While I thought the declaration was over-the-top, she scared me for many reasons so I moved the hell away. I got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the rink in tears. I knew I would be that woman. Better dressed, less vulgar. But that was me. With every step towards the rink and a coach who had already called my grandfather for my being tardy I had apologies coming to many but mostly to myself for my living in fear. 

As the story goes I had times where I lived in a bubble that would not break open, until ready. This confinement impeded my speech. Actually, stopped it, but left me in the living to be able to hear all around me. Initially, the episodes were short, no one ever knew. However, with time, each getting longer and longer but my fear and lies covered them up. Not well. But my ability to focus on the world around me caught everyone off guard as once it passed no one could tell the difference. Silent periods continued to grow longer with each passing episode but my odd ability to jump back into the conversation, with increased slurred speech, worked. I chalked everything off to fatigue and exhaustive days between school and the rink. Others, just shook their heads and labeled me as a rebellious teen. The game was exhausting as was the daily fear of what was around the corner and who would see it and when would my academy award winning acting breakthrough to the obvious secrets I was keeping.  I was scared.  

My first big seizure was in a bathroom. I just fell, seized alone, and bit off my tongue. Just clumsy right? Yup. Got a week off of school, lots of rest, ice cream, and my game was extended. Not even EMTs felt I needed hospitalization. My grandparents became like hawks circling their prey and waiting for a misstep. They knew. I knew. We all buried the truth as who doesn’t want a perfect kid. And it was such a heavy badge to wear and at that time late 70’s not one

A week later. The curtain came down on my show. The seizure was witnessed and hospitalization followed. Now, I knew what the tests would show. My grandparents kept talking in hushed tones of C words but I told them they had nothing like that to worry about. I was right but the doctors made my diagnosis like a death sentence, meds, no driving ever, no kids, university too taxing and on and on and on. My grandparents listened with tears streaming down their faces.  

As soon as the doctor left I looked at them and said. “Whatever he said, we are not doing.” Let’s get these meds and get the fuck out of here.” I got a life to live, and I am gonna live! My grandfather laughed and my grandmother almost scolded me but beating the big C was good enough for her. I promised to take my meds, stop driving for a year, but I would go to college and I was going to stage a sit-in at the hospital until they agreed. They did. I was sprung and my first course of treatment began. 

My story starts there. Today is a bad day. My mind scrambles into a million pieces trying to find the calm my brain needs to slow it down and focus on anything that is not repetitive in sound or feeling. On days like this I write. I listen to music, I do yoga, I watch movies. Anything to remove my brains overdrive and fixations. My sensory overload is at its max. Thus, hearing daily sound in stereo. The toaster, the baggies opening for breakfast goodies, the refrigerator door, the butter opening and closing…the insanity is my sanity on bad days and the view of life it brings me is priceless.  Loud, priceless, and a gift that took me years to embrace and overcome the looks from an uneducated public not understanding that it is not a sentence of death or oddity but one of heightened life. 

This is not a book about epilepsy. It is one about life and the removal of obstacles. 

Posted on in epilepsy, fitness

Keto Part 2

Well, I tried. Fell off the wagon and it took a very bad day of seizures to get me to recommit. Here is the problem. I love carbs. All of them. So, I am good for a few weeks and then a bagel catches my eye. I eat one and it is over. Way over. Then I catch up for lost time. Bagels, pizza, extra sugar etc. Back to feeling like crap, a few more seizures and the cycle starts again. Now, to stick to this my goal is a carb percentage of 20% not the 5% that some in keto can function with…I just cannot. Nor do I cook. So, life has to be simple. Pre-made salads (without the packaged dressing), pre-packed carrots, keto snacks, yes. Pre-packed. Dinner’s meat and frozen veggies. Dull but easy. I do not prep for the week. I tried. It is truly a chore no one needs, so I pay higher grocery prices. I am good. On Sunday to meal prep or watch my shows. TV for the win. My need to check out rest before the week of teaching is real and cooking is not rest. At least not for me. So, here I am after a very bad seizure day on day one. Again. A big plus in life is the no carb bagel. If toasted and covered with cinnamon, it is ok. I also found no carb bread, Cloudies, we shall see and a keto waffle. At least these will be my fake bread. It will help get me beyond the two weeks. I hope. Today, I won. Finally, after a long day and healthy foods, I feel better. This is what I have to remember every single day. I think I can.

Posted on in education, family, granparent life, life

Sisters and Stuff

Long ago in a text far, far away organized sisters came up with an idea to reunite. Our last time together was twelve years ago. While, I was part of the committee, I was just the commenter. Nothing more. Others had this and were focused to the finish line. Their vision was superb and a good time was had by all.

Yes, there were drinks, food, cake, pictures, glow sticks, and memories. All melted into one giant pansy of the past that formed our present. However, it was the stories that sung to my heart. Current chatter about this thing called life. The struggles, the obstacles, the frustrations and the delight of our children as we watched them grow into the humans they became no matter what we imparted into their upbringing. Mostly stories of delight but some utter heartbreak. But all of us raising them in our own giving/neurotic ways. Some more than others. Of course, I top the list in neurotic as an Irish Catholic/Jewish insane mom who watched a bit too much, but ended up with a different type of greatness that is still sorting out his own path as a father, photographer, and small businessman.

Aging. Ugh. I was one of the elders. We are all in the same place. Fighting the good fight and looking pretty good for 40 plus years since pledging our life to a house that changed our worlds. Surrounded by laughter, tears, formal dresses, parties, and occasionally classes. ASU has changed to meet the times and many of us with our partying ways of the past would not survive the ASU of today. Ok. At least me. I had fun and let loose from my odd upbringing. I met normal families, friends, and found my own way. I survived, thrived, and while did not become a famous broadcasting giant or an attorney, as I dreamed. I went for the brass-ring of happiness. Wife, teacher, mother. Fantastic trade. Almost thirty-four years later we are still a thing and while life is never easy, divorce was all around this weekend, so our survival made me feel blessed. Those that did make it through the marriage finish line felt the same way. Life is life and how it unfolds is anyone’s guess.

Life, death, sickness. None of us immune. This just hurt my soul. Some have struggled, all fear the struggle, and all aware that the next reunion some will be gone. That’s enough. More reunions, trips, lunches, contact in any form. Why? We all understand each other and we are going through the same chapters. All of us have seen each other at our most confused, ie college and perhaps we are the ticket to surviving our current challenges and delights.

Coming home after two evenings that delighted and drained me physically, as Netflix as become my go to of excitement. My reflection of the past, present, and future was mixed with all the love of a three year old grandnugget who paid a special visit. Which was better. You be the judge. Until again.

Delta Love, T

Posted on in education, fitness, goals

In Training…

Yes, it begins. In education we call this time-period eternal damnation. It is a combination of the daily springbreak shuffle and the beginning of testing readiness for the state tests which grant us our precious 301 monies. As an aside, this never should have been the teachers carrot to success =money. It begets deranged teachers and students who have figured out (long, long ago) that they can pass to the next scholastic year even not on their best days. Even with failure. We cannot control their mindset on that day. I have created cheers, given out gum and mints (now banned), stretch yoga breaks. Prep talks, adnauseum and hyping the importance of the test. It is my only scripted moment of the year. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Other infamous Livingston end of testing activities are bubble parties, classroom bracelets with positive mindsets (doing this one, this year). But even with the review preparation that I begin this week. I cannot begin to guess the outcome. So, my money, hangs in balance and I NEED the funds. To end my aside. Let’s think and use these monies correctly, for the teachers, end the hoops as I can guarantee I am jumping. Enough of that.

To describe an average day, to anyone who is not in the trenches, from the Superbowl onward, is possible. However, no one believes me. Even my husband says I embellish. Nope. All real. Twenty-three years of stories locked up in my head. I have thousands of them which do not make for cocktail party dribble, unless you find another teacher, and frankly by the weekend we don’t do outside parties. We are in hiding. My stories range from the sweet to the disturbing. Currently, my kids are in the disturbing stage. This will pass. I hope.

Prior to the Superbowl, I had weekend outings and a life outside of my classroom. It was a focus. I was succeeding. But no more. I am tired, mentally exhausted, drained, and waiting for my life to resume the last week of May. This week did me in. So, this weekend while in my state of lucid hibernation I made a pact with myself. Instead of the wait and hide weekend system I have been using, I am going to go into intensive training for the final semester of school. Which in my mind compares to any long distance sport. Here we go!

*Note* obviously not based in science but then neither has the last few years. Take ideas, use, modify, but most importantly get ready for Spring in the way that it suits you. For example my goal is one evening out a week. That’s it. However, you may be introducing much more into your life outside of school. Bravo. Here are my tips to simplifying life and building the strength I will need to not dive into my currently weekly hibernation. Here we go:

1. Unless you love cooking don’t meal prep. Frozen dinners were created for teachers. Use them.

2. Stock your room with flavored water, soda etc as if you are a camel. Instead of schelping. Order and deliver to your school. Simplicity is everything as we near the end.

3. Order everything. It saves you approximately four hours a week. There is no reason to go into a grocery store. Ever. My extra four hours saved will be used to hang out with the hubs who is often left out my long work hours during the week and on the weekend.

4. Go to Mexico and stock up on ZPacks. Truly. Take vitamins daily and drink Emergency powder every single day.

5. I cook simply and from a frozen state. I do air fried shrimp, chicken, fish, and simple low calorie Chinese mixes and thus always have lunch remaining, if frozen is just too chilly. Take away. Cook, keep it clean and make healthy choices but don’t stress yourself out. Keep. It. Simple.

6. Log your foods and steps. I use My FitnessPal and it keeps me away from my recent over indulging through the holidays and an injury.

7. If like me and you have a few Covid-19 pounds. Work to get eating healthy and find your daily movement pl. Every Damn Day. I am now a morning spinner staring down the barrel of 200 rides. Another post.

8. Leave before 4pm.

9. Leave school at school. I still take school home on the weekend but not M-F.

10. Laugh. Enjoy. Love your kids. Your renewed bounce in your step from carving out your additional time, eating healthier, and moving might just cause you to retire after your official date. Or not. No judgment.

Posted on in book, education, goals, life, non-fiction

I Got Nothing

I started my book.

Not a real beginning or ending, but a random start, that may just end up somewhere in the middle.

Writing must be a journey for the insane.

It must.

I got nothing but random thoughts. No streams of consciousness in grammatical correctness. Nope.

My outline looks as scarce as this blog. Yup.

But, I have one. That is a start.

At the end it will be a series of short vignettes all tied together with a thread of humour, as I tell the stories of my life.

But for now the book is held together by nothing more than a dream and has plenty of space for growth.

Posted on in education

Take Out Your Phones…

The phrase take out your phones, in a classroom, is akin to waving a checkered flag while screaming “Start your engines.” The result is madness. But I did it. Three times. On purpose. Yup. Chaos. Such an overwhelming sensory day sends me home speechless. I can talk but I shut down to restart my own engine for the days ahead. If you met me I would strike you as a gal who is overly social, commands a room at a party, not the one that gives off vibes of a societal mute. Nope. But yesterday, they took my voice.

The phone is a tool for homework. Mention homework to any 6th grader. Read their faces. Then add phones to the sentence. It changes. Dramatically. Now, it is a doable project not a chore as homework as become archaic. Truth. My goal is to have them monitor their screentime. They will use this personal research along with how screentime makes them feel in an argument essay. This is probably, the best assignment I have ever given. So far, 100% of the students are completing the assignment and truly thinking about their use of screens. Their screen numbers are boggling my mind but it is 2022. We are all a bit attached in both positive and negative ways. Yes, I am doing the homework with them. Our categories are school screentime, entertainment, TV and games.

Every morning we decipher our numbers, how we felt, and what else we did after-school outside of screens. One student read a book. Truth, and his admittance caused sweet, honest questions of curiosity. Now, books have never gone away, but technology has replaced our literary heros. The library is foreign and the screen is accessible to all financial categories and lures our students down deep dark holes of gaming or social medial scrolling for the most part. I do have one kiddo that creates 3-D printing items during the week. Now, that is just cool and a great use of technology. But that is rare. Sadly.

For the last two days and throughout next week, we will share our screentimes. Our focus is what do you do besides screentime? Secondly, how many screens are going on at once? Finally, how does all that time on a screen make you feel? I am relieved to report that outside play still exists. Chores exist, family time still exists. But screentime is a predominant focus. Oh, multiple screens are open pretty much 24-7. Truth.

Beyond the initial joy of phones for a few moments that fateful day and the madness. We are all seeing screens a bit differently. I am understanding their world, and they are realizing what they are possibly missing out on in life. Hiding behind a screen does take away from humanity and growth outside of following their favorite social media influencers. Some, get pure enjoyment from screens, games etc. and this will never change. Others, however, are seeing that life is not one big Tik tok. A few are looking into online books. Unbelievable. Kids teaching kids where books exist with their beloved devices. All of this conversation is a real life moment with my darlings which allows me to build trust and gain buy-in to the essay beginning tomorrow. They have a voice on this topic and it will shine. As for my voice. It is back. Stronger than ever.

Posted on in grey hair, life

The Many Faces of 58…

This year I struggled with a number. It is my beginning to a new decade. I took less pictures. I thought way too much about my looks. And probably smiled less. However, my smile quota is higher than the average persons smile quota. But less is less. I am a happy person but the number 58 brought me down. So, with a new year and an honest discussion on aging, with a friend. I realized how stupid I sound about this wrinkly stuff. So, eff 58, 59, 60, and beyond. I finally am ok with my age. Took me long enough. As you read this don’t do what I did. Embrace your age. Now. Don’t hide or shoot botulism into your face. Or do the biggie. You know. The lift. To be honest, I would do my neck. But turtlenecks and scarves work. A bit. Frankly, I am just scared. So natural it is. Back to you…Just accept, age naturally, and move on. Even in a world where everyone looks fake, filtered, and frankly perfect on social media. Keep it real. Now, during this process of accepting your number, social media will screw with your reality and the acceptance of your aging process. Hang in there. It is akin to growing out your grey hair. The mess passes into silver wonder. Trust me.

Really, trust me on the grey stuff!

Posted on in goals, granparent life, grey hair, life, retirement

Gave Up Influencing

My mid-life crisis seems to come and go depending on the day. It should be over. Technically. But mine has hunkered down to stay. I am either acting younger than my age (three instagrams and my flirting with influencer) keep laughing. I am back to one and grounded in the reality silver influencer is not happening. Or I am acting a bit over my age. A shopping at Chicos moment hit me right after devouring an Old Navy sale (love their stuff) for teaching. But truly the Chicos stuff is cute. Sigh. Or is it “the me” I am running from? Too many questions before coffee or my food that I consistently track to lose pounds that might have moved in forever. No Keep tracking. They will leave. Did I mention I spin? Yes, the cool girls exercise that blasts fat. Or in my case keeps it for the cold Arizona winters. Ah, 58. My new tread compounded with the bike will guide me through this mess. I think. Have to buy it first. Which brings me to Christmas. I overdid it. For everyone. It brought me true joy. The hubs not so much. It’s ok, on a teachers salary I will have this paid off by retirement. I got this. Screw the money. I made people happy. By people I mean the grandnugget. He was in heaven. His face. Every child should have his Christmas. The kid was thrilled as well, as he does not buy anything for himself, so I felt good. Like a magic elf bringing joy. While, not a fan of debt. This was worth it. Especially, for the hubs, as I brought him into 2022 with earbuds so he can retire the string hanging from his phone. The horror.

I digressed. Alot. Sorry. But the above frames my mid-life panic. Yesterday. I became a real-life tutor Mrs. L’s Tutoring and an Avon lady. Why? Oddly, not money. Ok. None of that would hurt, but a rich Avon lady is not my fantasy. Nope. Both digressions from the eventual retirement. As I can’t do this teaching thing forever. It is my calling, so to speak, without collar and celibacy. But everyear gets worse. I quit my weekly theater group, as $20 bucks a week is clearly not my scale. If you want the arts, I got you, but a real stipend please. Not babysitting. Just can’t. I am better than this. Sorry, if this offends those woke individuals worrying about the students feelings. I am too. But basically free ain’t working for me. Bring on the eyeliner.

I can picture retirement two ways on the cheaper end. Shoot me. Or with cushion. I want cushion and a full life of writing, tutoring, and possibly Avon. It’s fun. Why not. Now I need to try the product. Yesterday, in all my crazy stressful moments of overspending, I gained a true pause on what I want. That’s good. I want retirement, I want travel, I want the quiet of Neebish, the outlandish fun with the grandnugget and the ability to say no on my terms, not my bank accounts. This pushed me out of mid-life crisis into acceptance of my age and my desires to always be busy…busy…busy.

Now, back to my book (on chapter 2) and the moral of this chaotic dribble. Know your age, accept your age, do anything that makes you smile, spend too much, save, do you…and enjoy everyday. We are not guaranteed a tomorrow and my many tomorrow’s ahead will be readying for a lifetime of Chicos. And that’s ok! Good-bye midlife confusion. With my new acceptance and creation of a plan for the after-life of teaching, which includes, my writing, my forever tutoring, spinning, treading, Neebish, and my Avon…If throw in Paris and the hubs and this is a winning combination!

BTW here is my store. If you use the product. Please order. My top picks: eyeliner, and waterproof mascara. Give it a go or please share.

https://www.avon.com/repstore/TLivingston?rep=TLivingston

Posted on in Christmas, family, granparent life, life

Fast Forward to Valentines…

I am on auto-pilot once Halloween hits the shelves. Perhaps, it is the teacher in me, to be prepared and organized. Or not. Probably, it is just the media hype and the retail store push turning us to Valentines day before the Christmas meal has been digested or the last political fight put to bed. Is New Years the new Thanksgiving, just a brief stopping point, before the next big show? Christmas, to me, is the big show for obvious reasons and yes, the presents that I have accumulated for months and my anticipation of my families delight. I do shopping like no other part teacher part trained personal shopper with former retail training. I am dangerous especially in handbags, they make me drool. Thank goodness I have boys. I would be broke.

We spent Christmas Eve delighting in little person toy delight and today recovering. As the dust settles, and the Valentine cards take their proper place on the shelves, my moment of true piece will be just a simple “I love you,” from both my boys before I took a well earned nap.

So with all my hustle and bustle (and I am not alone) it was three little words and our togetherness that made me feel at peace and get my engines revved up for the sales.

Posted on in echelon, fitness, goals, life, Peloton

Tread on The Cheap

I feel like a giddy schoolgirl waiting for the cutest boy in school to walk by my locker. Or something like that. Feelings of long-ago now compared to a piece of equipment. About right. My Echelon tread is heading my way. I can’t wait. Currently, a proud owner of the Ecehelon Sport, which has turned my exercise experience upside down and made me a true believer and one who needs my daily dose of the benefits of fitness. This, alone was my ah ha of the year.

I learned to exercise and like it, enjoy it, or at least tolerate it. Nevertheless, of the category of delight or not. It is a daily habit. Most of the time.

To push myself I found virtual races. Yes, you pay. But that medal and your group keep you going. You ride, walk, run whatever and log your results. Currently, I have wandered through Colorado and next up Ireland. Never in my life did I think I would ride 118 miles. If I can do this anyone can. During this time, I lost weight, felt fitter, and slept better. Not miracles, just work with my Peloton App (Bless these instructors) and my gear. Lesser than my bougie friends and riding partners…butmaybe someday. If not that is OK as the ride is the same. It is. I tried the real enchilada and the only thing I want is the screen. That’s it. I can wait.

To up my game, enter the tread, my new baby. Still enroute. My goal is a mile or two every morning on the tread and my daily 5-9 miles on my bike in the afternoon. Picture fabulousness in my goals of slimming. I am.

So, wherever you are in your fitness journey. Hang-in there. Challenge yourself and enjoy! It worked for me and one year later I am still at it with a vengeance!