Do not be alarmed. I am not referring to copulating, although this is a scientific term.
This hybridized word involves physics, not biology.
I love the word because it describes a stage in between.
Flinking refers to a state between floating and sinking.
The density of an object is such that it neither floats nor sinks.
Suspended in the water below its surface.
Too heavy to float but not heavy enough to sink.
I do enjoy the concept, but not the sensation.
It’s like the limbo without the line or the music.
I am not drowning. I am not swimming.I am not floating. I am flinking.
Motionless, powerless waiting for the current to shift and my density to change.
I have to follow through, before I can start something new.
People puzzle me.
I have been living with my eyes wide open for a long time now.
It seems to me that some need enemies and some need heroes.
Folks need something to fight or follow.
I am fortunate to have a full life, so I do not feel this need.
But some folks have holes in them.
There is a void that yearns to be filled.
They need to fight a boss or spouse, so they revel in political battles.
They need a champion parent or preacher, so they follow a paternalistic leader.
I have an enemy all ready. Epilepsy takes the battle out of me.
I have heroes in my family, one of which is my amazing Rose.
Because my life is full, I do not scroll for anger or watch a screen for inspiration.
I stay home peacefully puzzling about people while surrounded by plants.
Beware of Bad Busy.
Bad Busy runs red lights and loses keys.
Bad Busy uses profanity prolifically.
Bad Busy has high blood pressure and low immunity.
Bad Busy ignores the signs.
Bad Busy drinks from the fire hose.
Bad things happen when Bad Busy’s back is turned.
Bad Busy needs to check on her pets and her people.
Bad Busy needs to slow down and look around.
All that cortisol will kill Bad Busy.
Stop Bad Busy!
Get rid of the Bad.
Get rid of the Busy.
Do not apologize.
Pause and pray.
We wrote this book to help other families. It is not a pity party. I tried to include stories with lessons to them. It is blatantly honest, but kind.
Email me your address if you cannot get one.
This is our “Other Mother” mission.
I guess I will never be done. Not as Seizure Mama nor Rose’s Mama.
I have tried to make decisions for her separate from her epilepsy.
Is she separated from epilepsy.
Sometimes trying to be fair is sort of like trying to be stupid.
She is not separated from epilepsy, so why am I trying to make decisions like she doesn’t have it?
She wanted to study abroad, alone, in Central America over the summer.
I tried to say yes. I tried to consider her as normal. (She hates that word.)
I tried NOT to let fear be part of the formula.
A female alone. Learning the language. Eleven week$.
No for Rose. No for Epilepsy. No for mama.
I’d rather be safe than sorry.
That’s not fear talking. That’s just mama sense.
I am a bit antsy.
It reminds me of how I used to feel when the school year ended.
I am glad to be done with publishing our book, but now what?
I have no reason to stay home and stand by.
These past years have been lonely, but busy.
Now it is just lonely…and winter.
I will reinvent myself again. That is nothing new.
I need to be useful, or at least feel useful.