A tisket a tasket

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 17, 2011 . 8:04PM

Every now and then, when I feel a lot of stress or pressure, I find myself reciting old nursery rhymes in my head. Mother Goose was a favorite when I was a child and I may not be able to remember entire stories, but a phrase here and there will pop up like a jack in the box during particularly frustrating moments of the day. At a red light. When someone cuts in front of me in line. When I need to use the restroom and someone is taking their sweet time in there.

As a child, I never realized how important those little routines were to me, although the adults around me must have, being that I likely threw a fit when I didn’t have my routines on a daily basis. As a child, you only know that you want what you want and you don’t always know why. Sometimes I feel that way as an adult as well. I want what I want and I don’t know why.

Routine is still important to my well-being and I still find myself using my routine as a measure of comfort. The days that I step off of my routine I find myself feeling out of sorts and irritable and “jack and jill” and “humpty dumpty” may start running through my head as I pull in deep breaths and try to clear my mind. Today is one of those days. Exercise has become part of my daily routine and I never thought I’d say that. Today, however, I woke up still exhausted. It happens about one or two days a month that I wake up still tired enough to go straight back to bed. I’m guessing it’s a chemical flux and that it’s my body’s way of telling me to take a day to relax.

Regardless of what I want on those days, I have no choice. I’m so fatigued that my routine is out the window. I’m used to it on my chronic pain/migraine days, but on the sheer fatigue days, I cannot resolve myself because I want what I want when I want it. Spoiled and childish, to be sure, but it’s my ROUTINE. It’s what calms me. And today, I can’t have it.

Loss and coping

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 2, 2011 . 6:16PM

As he walked through the door with the largest pink flower I’d ever seen, he grinned and talked about how he’d found it on the ground and wasn’t it beautiful? It truly was. Fragrant and bulbous and clearly picked from the yard of one our neighbors. He’d taken to doing this lately and though he’d been grilled about this action and reprimanded, his reasons for doing it were altruistic and it hurt my heart to yell at him once again.

Often, he’d walk up to me and proffer the flowers for his “amazing, wonderful mama,” but lately the flowers had been for our turtle, Petey. He’d recently discovered that flowers were a delicacy for Petey and the more fragrant the flower the more Petey would tear into it with relish. Petey tended towards a grumpy nature and would rarely open his eyes for anything more than what appeared to be a piratey “Argh” when he was prodded, so to see him come out of his shell, literally, to eat that flower with gusto was a sight for AJ to behold. We’d stand around Petey’s pen and watch him eat and imagine that the flowers put him in a better mood.

Last night, though, I’d been at my friend Bryan’s house until late. When I came home, I immediately checked in on Petey, as I do frequently throughout the day. I noticed that he was splayed in a fashion that was unnatural to him and picked him up to check on him. When he didn’t open his eyes to glare at me, it occurred to me that something was terribly wrong. His little limbs didn’t move and prodding him didn’t change his posture. Petey was gone.

Lately he’d been lethargic and I’d attributed it to the changing seasons. I’d taken him outside a couple of days earlier for some sunshine and even that time in the sun and shade hadn’t perked him up. His shell had become flimsy and, after looking at some information online, it became apparent to me that he’d had a disease that we hadn’t caught. Because AJ was sleeping, and Petey couldn’t stay in the cage like that, he was laid to rest in the creek behind the house. I didn’t want AJ to wake up without his turtle and not know why, so I woke him up and gently told him the news. He checked on Petey often and had I not told him, he would have been startled to not find him.

He was confused, but I thought he understood what I was telling him. I was wrong.

Oh, my sweet boy. My sensitive child.

When he took Sophie for a walk this afternoon and brought home that pink flower with the biggest grin he could muster, I never once considered Petey. He walked up to the fireplace mantle, where we kept Petey’s cage, looked at me and arched his eyebrow slightly.

“Mom, where did you put Petey?”

Oh no.

I explained to him that I’d told him last night that Petey had passed away. The most terrible look crossed his face and I will not forget his words. “But, what will I do with this flower now? I brought it home for him to eat. He loves flowers.”

I was at a loss, but told him to put it in a bowl and put it on Petey’s spot on the mantle. He did and silently went to the couch where he looked at it for a moment and his face crumbled. He was upset that he didn’t get to say goodbye so we went down to the creek and he placed the flower in it and said his goodbyes. He’s understandably confused about why turtles have to die and what happens to turtles when they die and whether or not he will see his turtle friend again.

Ultimately, I think the main question we face when we lose someone we love is did we love them enough? Did they feel our love? Did they know what they meant to us? In this case, did this turtle know he was a beloved turtle to a 10-year old boy who loved his grumpy little face enough to face punishment for stealing the neighbors flowers on a regular basis so that turtle could have a delicious treat? Because, after all, we make sacrifices for those we love. Make no mistake, that turtle was loved. But did he know it?

It may seem a little ridiculous to wonder if a turtle felt loved or not, but it doesn’t feel ridiculous to me nor does it feel ridiculous to AJ. Everyday, Petey was part of our day and he made our lives better. Many people I know are grieving right now and I see the questions in their face as to whether or not the person or thing they are grieving felt their love or knew what was given for that relationship.

We all want to feel loved. I wonder if any of us know the true extent of how much we really are adored? If this turtle was enough to break an adult and a child, how much more so are we to those around us?

RIP little one

Dear Walmart

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 25, 2010 . 12:14AM

Dear Walmart,

Honestly, I rarely go to your store for a cornucopia of delightful reasons. The main reason being that when I go into the store I come out feeling musty and dusty and like I need to take a shower. While you may have a more varied selection than my preferred store, Target, I’ve noticed that some products look like someone has run them over with a Hummer and that they have been opened, sampled and then put back like I won’t notice that someone else has taken a huge bite out of the Doritos I plan to purchase. Consequently, I no longer purchase Doritos, but I will talk about that in a later post.

In any case, I frequent your store in two circumstances: when I’m in a city, like my hometown, that does not have a Target, or when the item I need is not one that Target, Best Buy or any other store in the whole world (the whole world being a 15-20 mile driving distance) sells. In this case, I was looking for a 16G Zune player. This was necessary being that I was overly zealous on the treadmill the other day and whacked my rhapsody player off the treadmill deck and sent it spiraling to the belt where it promptly went zinging to the back of the treadmill and skidded 5-feet across the gym floor. It inadvertently almost knocked a boy off the elliptical behind me because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t stay upright. I realized it was unusable when it popped open in my hand. After trying other rhapsody players from my beloved Target, I gave up.

Wal-mart online showed me a Zune player that was $30 less than Best Buy. By this time, I’m already crabby because I haven’t worked out in 24 hours and I am kind of wishing I’d pushed the boy off of the elliptical machine. I got to Wal-Mart and, lo and behold, they have the Zune in stock. For $30 more than they advertised online. This isn’t new. Wal-Mart frequently discounts their items on their online store and charges more for their items in-store. So, to get something that is IN STOCK, I get to pay $30? Pass. I’ll go to Best Buy where I get a clean store, great customer service, a Best Buy rewards system and can use my $5 certificate for my rewards and where that same player will count towards MORE rewards. Oh, and hey, where BEST BUY won’t UNDERCUT ITSELF online. I’ve heard stories about Wal-Mart doing this with various products and refusing to honor the prices in their stores. If I wanted to wait five days, I could get Amazon free shipping. Or, better yet, use Amazon.com and get prime shipping or one day shipping and pay $30 less than both Wal-Mart & Best Buy.

What I know is this: I won’t be using Wal-Mart. And their policy of not meeting their own prices? Bull. This isn’t a franchise. This is a corporation. All the money goes to the same place. Enough is enough. I walked out today even though I really wanted that player and I had spent time, gas and money going there.

Places that continue to give me good service, Target, Best Buy, Amazon, the little stores around here? They’ll continue to get my cash. Keep up the good work, Wal-Mart. You make it easy not to give you my money.

Sincerely,