Asking for Help

I am terrible at this and always have been.  I am stubborn and independent to a fault. 

The current situation: Vinny’s out of town working, I had an infection in my foot that was almost gone (I’ll spare you the details of how this fun event transpired), but after the furnace went out last Monday and I was up and down stairs way too many times, and then add to that some shoveling (which I actually like doing), the infection came back in a hurry at the end of this past week.  Basically, I’ve had great difficulty walking for the last three weeks, something that in and of itself is frustrating in ways I cannot adequately convey in words. 

This is how life works.  Sometimes it comes all at once, at a time when you wish like nothing else that it would simply leave you alone.  I never expect life to be easy, but there are times when I hope it might be a “little easier,” than others.  This has been one of those times.  Instead, I have been a medicated, hobbling mess.

Thankfully, I was able to retreat this past weekend to my parents.  They stepped in and took over childcare duties, as I sat for the better part of each day with my foot elevated as the infection worsened.  I can’t imagine how much worse things would be had I continued my normal daily routine, which essentially means being on my feet most of the day caring for the kids (and in case this isn't obvious, not great for foot infections). 

Still, there is a part of me that feels as though I am putting someone else out by sitting on my bum, letting someone else help me, take care of me.  I am simultaneously relieved, grateful and frustrated for not being able to do what I need to do each day.  And I know I shouldn’t feel this way.  The kids are having a great time, my parents are happy to help.  But me?  I am having a hard time sitting still, feeling like I am not helping or contributing in any way. 

I fully admit this is a tough concept for me to embrace.  You need help?  Ask for it.  If the situation were reversed and any of my friends or family asked for help, would I do it?  Absolutely, and without thinking twice.  Why is it so hard for me to accept it works the other way in return?  That those who care about me are willing to help, if needed?

I know I am not the only one who struggles with this.  And I wonder why.  Is it pride?  Stubborness?  Independence?  A fear that others won’t be willing to help?  I feel that as a culture we have been ingrained to “do it all,” and to ask for help is a sign of weakness.  But in the long run, we’re only hurting ourselves and those around us when we don’t ask for help.  And don't we want to model this behavior for our children, so that they understand there is no shame in needing help?   

So even though I have felt like we are overstaying our welcome, we have been at my parents since Saturday morning.  The plan was to leave at some point today, even though my foot is still a disaster, and then at lunch: a migraine.  It took me a few minutes to realize what was happening.  My vision was strange, not everything was in focus, I couldn’t see everything looking straight ahead.  As soon as the ring of flashing color showed up in my right eye, I knew what was happening.  Were it not so debilitating and painful, I would welcome the experience… I find the whole thing rather fascinating (how does the brain coordinate these things?).  But that's a whole other topic.

I have been lucky(?) enough to only experience migraine headaches when I’m pregnant.  And I ain’t pregnant.  Really, really.  So this was rather devastating today, to have my first, non-pregnancy-related migraine.  I hope it’s the first and only.

So my plans of leaving faltered.  If I can’t see properly, I certainly don’t feel confident getting behind the wheel of a car, especially with children in tow. 

It took the migraine for me to fully surrender.  To say, “yup, I’m an absolute mess and I am going to continue making an imprint in that couch until tomorrow morning.”  Which is what I am going to sign off now and do.

But first: Thank you, Mom and Dad.  I’m not good at accepting help, but thanks for being here to give it.        

Sit Down. It’s Time for: The Next Big Thing

I am lucky to have met some of the most amazing people I know during my time at Naropa University.  One of them is Carolyn Zaikowski, who invited me to participate in the Next Big Thing, and whose work continuously blows me away.  She’s the real deal, people.  Please go here to read more about Carolyn’s forthcoming book, A Child is Being Killed, from Aqueous Books.

So this week I am going to take a break from writing about motherhood/parenting and do something I rarely do: talk about my writing life.  

And so I give you – The Next Big Thing: An Interview with Stacy Walsh

What is the working title of your book (or story)?
How Film Destroyed My Life

Where did the idea for the book come from?

It’s emerged from a trickle of several different ideas.  Most people don’t understand how the film industry works, or what it’s like to work on a film production.  At all.  Most people I know think we stand around and fawn over movie stars (we don’t).  Then there’s also this thing that happens when you’re working on a project, where it takes over your life because it’s all you do at least 60+ hours per week.  So the fake world you work in on a daily basis becomes your reality.  It’s a tough pill to swallow and does things to your mind that can’t be undone.  Beyond that, you occasionally see movie star or producer “tell-all” type books, about behind-the-scenes drama, but you rarely see one written by blue collar crew members.  That, and I have so many ridiculous stories about my on-set experiences, it seems a waste not to share them.   

What genre does your book fall under?

I’d say a blend of creative nonfiction, humor, and horror.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

This is a trick question.  If this project were adapted (and I couldn’t imagine anyone in their right mind doing so… which means it probably should be), the entire cast would have to be unknowns, or even better, film crew.  Actors would ruin the entire thing.  Although, I do love Living in Oblivion, so maybe there’s hope?

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Dunno.  I’m not one for precise pitches until the product is complete.  I’m probably an agent’s worst nightmare.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

When I finally finish this beast I will submit for representation (notice how I really sold it on the previous question).

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

This is a project I have worked on in starts and stops for the last five years.  I aim to have a complete draft by the end of this year.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Well, there aren’t many.  I’m definitely inspired by authors that write humorous nonfiction (David Sedaris and Laurie Notaro come immediately to mind).  As for books that deal specifically with the film industry, I enjoyed both Julia Phillips “You’ll Never Eat Lunch in this Town Again,” and “Based on the Movie,” by Billy Taylor.  One is a vitriolic attack from a bitter producer, the other a playful tongue-in-cheek look at the trials of living your life working in film.  They both give an insiders view, though their approaches are different, much more straightforward narrative than what I’m doing.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Well, back in the day, when I was working on a film in L.A., I would frequently send these mass emails back home about the more wacky experiences I was having on set, as a way to educate, entertain, and horrify my family and friends, who tended to have these very lofty, Hollywood-esque daydreams about what my life must be like.  I enjoy shattering those misconceptions, for lots of reasons.

But out of those emails came a lot of encouragement about putting my stories down on paper.  Then during my time at Naropa University I had one instructor in particular, Andrew Wille, who thought there was much to mine creatively in these experiences.  And there is.  My struggle has been whether to stay the course with a nonfiction telling (where humor is my intention), or to dive into the uglier side of the industry and put down a fictionalized account so as not to endure the wrath of people I know.  Both projects have their allure, but for now, I’ve opted to stay the nonfiction route. 

What else about your book might pique the reader's interest?

Just a few key words/phrases to whet your palate: chupacabra (look it up if you aren’t familiar… good times), filming overnight with fake blood and sheep that looked like goats (also related to the chupacabra), working on a Mormon comedy, being holed up in a barber shop as to avoid a rumored drive-by (you know, cause the film was gang-funded), the threat of having one of my arms cut off, riding in a parade dressed as a Marine.  This just scratches the surface, people.   

Thanks again, Carolyn, for inviting me into the fold.  The Next Big Thing continues on...  Be sure to check out interviews with some other fantastic writers I know during the week of January 27th:

Jules Berner fills us in on her latest writing endeavor.

Chris DeWildt illuminates us on his forthcoming collection of shorts from Martian Lit.

Gina Caciolo tells us about – Stamped Your Face: handmade goods crafted with grateful hands.

The Space Between Good-Bye and Hello

I hate good-byes.  They’re the worst.  Even when you know you’ll be seeing your loved one again in say, four or five weeks, it’s still difficult. 

You’d think Vinny and I would have this down by now.  We’ve been together over thirteen years, have spent countless times apart thanks to work and/or school, and have had to participate in this song-and-dance so many times you’d think we’d barely blink an eye. 

But no.

I wasn’t even going to write this blog post until after he left because in many ways, it’s easier to get through the good-bye by simply avoiding it.  If I don’t think about the fact that he’s leaving and what that means, well, it’s almost like it’s not going to happen. 

Until it does.

It was easier before the kids.  Sure, we hated being apart but it’s not like either one of us would change drastically in four to six weeks (or three months).  And now that neither child is an infant, the changes are a bit more subtle, but they’re still present.

Now that we have two kids, I can say it was easier when it was just Eli, and he was young.  Now that he’s old enough to be fully aware of what’s happening (and Sophie is right there with him), it gets increasingly difficult with each absence.  There’s acting out, temper tantrums, moodiness… and it breaks my heart because I know where it comes from, but I never know how to assure him that Vinny will be back in a few weeks.  It’s still not a concept either of them can grasp.

In the meantime, I try to take all the changes of behavior in stride, trying my best not to get immediately frustrated and cranky, which is easy to do since I am also experiencing the after-effects of not having my partner here with me (I guess I’m not really selling the whole “come and visit us while Vinny’s gone” ploy by describing how wonderful we’ll be in his absence… oops).

I’ll say this much:  If you don’t have kids, or have never parented on your own for a minimum of several weeks, please don’t say things like: “Four weeks isn’t that long, it’ll go by in a flash,” or “I did that once for a weekend and it wasn’t so bad,” or “It’s okay, the kids won’t remember,” or “It’s good to know you can do it on your own,” or “__________________ (fill in your favorite snarky comment here).”

No, if you have a friend or loved one that is home bound in the evenings with no adult company in sight perhaps offer to stop by for an evening and partake in some adult conversation (and/or drinking), or invite said friend and kids over to dinner with your family for a change of pace, or offer to take the kids on a walk so that she might have ten minutes of silence during the day, or…  You get the idea. 

There are so many things I miss when Vinny isn’t here, but having interaction with another adult is on the top of my list.  I am lucky to have some fantastic friends that make a point of visiting when Vinny is away, or make me chocolate chip cookies, or bring me beer, or have me over, or just generally provide some much-needed distraction.  Single parenting becomes lonely, quickly. 

That’s really my point here.  Yeah, yeah, the good-bye part is always a kick in the pants.  There’s no way around it.  I dread it every time.  But the part that’s even harder is the quiet house you come back to (okay, so after the kids have gone to bed).  That’s when the loneliness tries to creep in.

So just be aware.  Do you have a friend that could use a hand?  An ear?  A beer?  I knew this was coming, so have been filling up my calendar with much-needed visits from my lovely friends.  It’ll make the space between good-bye and hello much brighter.   

Stop Looking Around

Yes, yes.  It’s the New Year (a belated Happy New Year to you, readers).  A good time to reflect on what was and what lies ahead. 

I’ll admit, looking back wasn’t much fun.  When I think about where I was a year ago: super sleep deprived, struggling to get Sophie to nurse or drink fluids of any kind, struggling in my quest to get her to sleep through the night, well, it doesn’t flood me with warm memories.  In fact, when I think about the first year-and-a-half of Sophie’s life, I realize that there are large chunks of time missing from my memory. 

For instance, I honestly don’t remember Christmas 2011.  Sure, we had just arrived in Grand Rapids from Los Angeles on December 20^th, Vinny going into his hiatus, and we had all of four days to throw Christmas together.  And we did.  But other than a trip to Target to buy our fake Christmas tree and ornaments, and a trip to Toys R Us to buy the kids a play kitchen, I don’t remember any of it (And seriously, these are the things I do remember?  Why?).

So looking back… not so fun. 

On the other hand, I cannot remember the last time I felt so excited for a New Year to begin.  I have a good feeling about 2013.  Now that I am back to maybe ¼ brain function, am sleeping a bit better, and have these fleeting moments of clarity, I feel as though some of my long-dormant creativity is anxious to escape.  Couple that with some ambitious business ideas = color me happy. 

But in the midst of this looking forward and looking back and getting caught up in all that end of the year/beginning of the next, top-ten lists of everything under the sun whirlwind, I begin to feel overloaded.  Somehow, the end of the year does that to us.  We want a recap in case we missed anything, or forgot about something that happened earlier in the year when we weren’t paying attention, or we need a preview of what’s to come, to feel assured that yes, this next year is going to kick ass all over the place.

Maybe it will.  Maybe it won’t. 

Instead of overwhelming ourselves looking in every direction, why don’t we do as Garth used to say and “Live in the now, Man!” 

Seriously.  While I like to take time to reflect on what has been and what is to come, it is a hell of a lot harder to live in the moment with any kind of regularity. 

Have you tried it?  Really tried it?  As in, not flitting about from one to-do to the next, not sticking to your schedule day in and day out, not getting it all done before taking a minute to enjoy what you have right now?  To look at your loved ones and truly see them?  To be fully present with them? 

I’ve always struggled with being fully present in the moment, long before I was a parent.  Becoming a parent only exacerbated the situation.  Now there truly are a lot of things that need to be done each day, because, well, the kids can’t take care of themselves and if we don’t do it then there will be some problems.  So I find it even more challenging to be present as I tackle the day-to-day demands of parenting.   

It seems silly.  What is my favorite moment of any day?  The moment where I sit down with the kids and interact with them, with no other expectation in mind, no lurking “this needs to be done” thought creeping in.  When I am simply with them I am happiest, and so are they. 

You’d think this would be reinforcement enough to make it a constant and easily-remembered habit, and yet it’s not.  Quite often, it takes daily reminding to stop, slow down, and be with them. 

So go ahead, reflect, plot what’s to come, get excited about the myriad possibilities that any New Year brings.  But then remember to sit down, take a deep breath, and live in the now.

P.S. This post reminds me of my favorite fortune cookie fortune: Stop looking; happiness is right in front of you.