Night and Day

Today, a very busy day, did a complete flip from my perspective. This morning, my head was really bad. I haven't been able to organize my way out of a paper bag all week, and levels of anxiety (everything!) have just been escalating by the hour. As I dashed around trying to put together last-minute critical supplies for a Scouting event, I wasn't sure what direction I'd take: scream? faint? cry? throw something? run in circles and smash on the wall? have a stroke?

No. All of those options seemed counterproductive and actually my head was thudding in such a way that I was actually a bit worried about that last possibility. .25 mg of xanax seemed in order.

An hour later, the Scouting event was still hectic and the noise level made tears come to my eyes, but it was manageable - no, more than manageable, it was very enjoyable. But a tad hectic, definitely. Imagine six girls and their siblings, with about two-thirds of the kids somewhere on the spectrum, desperately excited over an important Scouting event. That means three kids screaming either in excitement or distress or both, two kids under the table holding their hands over their ears, another two handflapping so hard I thought they might levitate, one totally checked out, humming to herself and spinning something (mine), and an older sister, theoretically neurotypical, quietly eating her little sister's floral bouquet in the corner (also mine). At that point we had also lost my husband; after two months of a gluten-reduced and nearly dairy-free diet, he was in the bathroom throwing up after eating a slice of pizza. That'll teach us to be the only family in the group who blew off dietary restrictions. Everyone else brought food from home. Fortunately, we had gotten through most of the ceremony before this was the scenario-at-a-glance.

I can't say that I was 100% at the Scouting ceremony; I started the proceedings, got the girls through the GS Promise, began to talk about why we were gathered... and promptly derailed the whole conversation into mathematics. I am still laughing. I don't know how it happened, exactly. I asked the girls how many badges they all had earned, and it turned out to be four each, which they all started to add up for a total, and suddenly the talk took this extreme left turn into multiplication, then factors of four, and then ... then there was shouting, and I was sitting there thinking, "Wow, I have really lost control of this situation," and then a couple of the other moms yelled "Time for the candles!" and got that going. Saved. Whew.

In the evening, there was an art exhibit and event. Rosie had wanted to look for her entry on the wall, do some crafts, listen to some music. But she was too wiped out from the earlier event to want to go at first. Eventually, she decided that she didn't want to miss out on music, and the two of us dragged ourselves there. It was a complete zoo, a total madhouse. About a thousand people crammed in a small space. She had a couple of mini-meltdowns, but we also enjoyed trying out new art techniques, and were able to leave with a tolerably good feeling.

Though we were both exhausted, Rosie and I wanted to eat some healthier food than the leftover pizza waiting at home. So, since Rose was having a craving for laad naa, we went to a Thai place we hadn't tried before. And this is where the evening smoothed out into the crown on a lovely day, as Rosie put it. The restaurant was quiet, with only murmuring conversations, the splash of a fishtank, and the tinkle of soothing music in the air. The seating was comfortable, the lights were low... we had each our favorite comfort food (laad naa for Rosie, tom kha khai for me) followed by luscious khao neeo mamuang. "I don't want to leave," said Rosie. "This is just so nice!" We just felt terrific ("A new me!" said Rosie.), and figured that the healthy food helped, but that the soft music was the best thing.

Ahhh. In any case, evening definitely 180 degrees from morning for me.