All posts by Misty Katherine Morehead

I am an artist, writer, jeweler, and a Spoonie. Before becoming a Spoonie I was a very busy high achieving attorney and advocate bent on saving the world. Now I'm struggle to redefine my life to fit within my reduced energy level. Some days are better than others. I have fibromyalgia, trigeminal neuralgia, and chronic daily migraine.

Oh the rays of sun doth pierce the clouds…

So, after the previously mentioned reading armageddon, I felt a break from the world of ABC’s was overdue. Monkey and I spent a wee bit of time on two reading wheels I made for her, but other than that, we have left the issue alone.

Tonight, while I was cooking dinner, she picked up one of the reading wheels, and began to read it. I, rather intelligently I think, said nothing and continued to prepare dinner. She began to sound out the words, cat, hat, pat, sat, mat, rat, bat, fat. After a little while, she was reading them, over and over with increasing ease. At this point, I exitedly told her that she was reading. She paused, looked over at me, and said “Really?”. I assured her she was reading. She got sooooo excited and then all teary and proud!! We celebrated with a little plaque saying when she began to read, what she read, and how proud we are of her. It is hanging on her wall. After the celebration she sat down to practice more so she could show her daddy after he returned home from work.

It feels so good!! I think maybe the pressure is off, if I can’t just keep leaving fun little things for her to happen upon and read, then maybe she will do this again, without the drama!!

A great day of success for our house! Yay Monkey!!

Ick! We’re Sick!!

I have been struck down with a cold (fever and headache) for the last two days, so I have nothing much of interest to write about. Monkey was sick as well, which in this case was positive as she was content to lie around watching television while I slept and read. Normally when she is sick, I have a lot of work to do, but this time we just wallowed in our freakish misery together. Lee was struck down today, and joined in the wallowing.

Hopefully we will be better soon. I am supposed to go back to the lovely beach with Ellen & CO. as soon as we are well, and Monkey is certainly tired of playing inside, alone. The problem with being so far away from your family and most of your friends is that you can’t have mommy come and help on sick days. (I want my mommy!) However, we did recieve a care package of sorts today, my friend Katy sent Monkey some books on new babies and me a book of cute crochet patterns for babies. I can’t wait to get started on some of the designs.

Well… there really is little else to say.

I love you all and hope to hear from you soon!

Your (unshowered and sniffly) Denver girl.

Hysteria, reading, and going for the Oscar…

So, we are working on reading. I have developed a series of fun interactive games to help her learn to read. For example, we make letters out of rope, name words that begin with those letters, and then walk the letter tightrope. We made a ladybug word wheel, that had a strip of letters rotating in the middle, and the letter “ug” on the end, so we can get hug, bug, rug, etc. We have a basket of letters that she gets to pick from, and we write and read as many words that begin with that letter, we have alphabet bingo, we have level appropriate books. Each time we start a new activity, she is engaged and happy, and does really well. However, each time we go back to an old activity, she doesn’t want to work at it. She sighs after each letter, she cries if she can’t read the word the very first time, and in the end, she is a screaming, crying mess. I have not been a pushy, mean mommy. I have not let my frustration show. When she gets like this, I tell her we will go back to reading later, when she is less frustrated. This results in her blowing up and screaming and crying even harder. Right now, she is in her room screaming her head off about how she “will give me all her attention and won’t yawn anymore”. I put her down for a nap after we tried to read the word “huff” about three hundred times. We were having a really hard time, she was getting really tired, but she didn’t want to stop, and each time I suggested it, she got really upset. She would sound the word out, get it right, forget it, sound it out, yawn, get it right, cry, calm down, sound it out while yawning and rubbing her eyes, forget it, sound it out… you get the picture. I told her we would try again later, but each time I tell her that she starts screaming about how she is never going to read, that it is too hard.

Is it wrong to want to just scream when your kid complains that the 30 minutes to an hour of game filled reading exercises are too hard? I mean, it must be hell on wheels to have to circle all the items in a picture that begin with the letter f. It must be the worst thing ever to have to sit still for five minutes trying to read the world “bug” on a ladybug shaped word wheel that you get to spin for the beginning letter. Argh!!

And yet, if I show my frustration, she is going to pick up on it and this will all get worse. The worst about it is, she is good! She is reading! She read five pages of a book this morning in about 10 minutes, and then she melted down into madness. Yesterday, she read all the words on her bug wheel, and then melted down into madness. The more she is able to read, the more she cries about not being able to read. We celebrate each word she reads with hugs and smiles, but any time she encounters a single hard word, she loses it. We talk about how reading is hard, and no one picks up a book and starts reading it right away. We discuss the importance of practice, but she still gives up right away.

Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions? Laudanum?

Don’t bash on the belly gentlemen…

Why are pregnant women called crazy? (A soapbox moment)

I am bothered by a common theme within our culture as represented by the media, and our culture in general. (Actually, I am bothered by many common themes, but this is the one bothering me today.)

I find it disturbing that pregnant women are considered crazy. If a pregnant woman has an emotional reaction to any given situation, she is just as likely to be treated like a person recently released from an institution as she is to be treated like a person with feelings. I understand that pregnancy causes emotional ups and downs, harsher or more extreme reactions to normal situations, and simply more emotions in general. I get it, I am currently pregnant. I understand that my crying in the grocery store the other day because the Fair Haven A&P doesn’t carry the fudgsicles my parents buy back home is not the way I would behave if I weren’t pregnant. I understand that crying at the end of Clerks II was more likely caused by hormones than it was the touching and meaningful prose of Kevin Smith. (I am pretty sure that Mr. Smith never intended to make his audience sniffle quietly whilst Dante and Randall rebuilt the Quick-Stop.)

Crazy is a hugely negative term in our culture. It immediately demolishes a person’s credibility. For example, when liberals and democrats in 2000 and 2004 began to speak about the possibility of a stolen election, the validity of their viewpoints were dimished quite effectively by referring to them as crazy. (Or by referring to them as conspiracy theories, which in popular culture is synonymous with crazy.)

What upsets me is that these increased emotional reactions are natural. They occur becuase of a natural increase in hormone levels caused by growing a baby. (Without this ability, the human race would cease to exist, so therefore, I feel we should more respect pregnant women.)
I am upset that the hormones rushing through my system as a result of my role in continuing the species give other people the license to call me insane and treat me like a ticking time bomb.

Those of you who know me know that I can get fired up and angry about a great number of things, without a single wayward hormone in evidence. How am I supposed to make it through the next nine months without harming those around me if they treat me like a lunatic each time I get up on my soapbox?

It is unfeeling of our culture to punish pregnant women for expressing their feelings when a massive flood of hormones is pulsing through their systems. (Yes, referring to pregnant women as crazy when they react emotionally is punishment.) Why don’t people simply understand that the growing of another human being has a tendency to effect emotions? Why aren’t women, while pregnant, offered commiseration and support, instead of being derided as insane? Isn’t it enough that we have to willingly get fat in a culture that makes anorexia look healthy?

Your Denver Girl (Pregnant and emotional!) signing out.

The carpet strikes back…

The Carpet Strikes Back… a thank you… and more…

To begin with I would like to thank all of you for your outpouring of support in response to my last blog. I really feel loved and supported, which is more helpful than just about anything else! My absence from posting was due to a combination of the final chapter of the carpet saga and planning our wedding/honeymoon.

So, we were told at the end of last week that the icky, yucky, blucky carpets would be gone at the end of last week or the beginning of this week. Weeell, they came out today. Sadly, all of our stuff has been in the family room all week while we waited, and we had to sleep in the living room last night in order to insure the furniture was out of the rooms. (By the way, we will be finding an alternative bed for guests, our futon sucks!! I heartily apoligize to any friends who have already learned that. Sorry Luke!!)

But today the carpets were removed to uncover a decent, though heavily stained, wood floor. I have spent the better part of the day mopping, sweeping, and steam cleaning the wood. I have also removed little pokey things (staples and nails), and tiny remaining tufts of carpet that were stuck to the wall. The rooms look better. They do not look great but they are no longer covered by stinky, ugly, dirty, lavender carpet. (YAY!!) I am now completely spent.

Our landlord came by today to haul away the carpet. He missed some, of course. One of his biggest arguments in this carpet debate is that we have pets who will simply ruin any new carpet that comes in. Now our pets are good. The girls have occasional accidents, but given that we are fencing the backyard and I will be able to let them out whenever they need to go, there should be no issues here. My cat, Chloe, has never peed anywhere. That is until this morning, when she objected to the carpets remaining as long as they have by peeing on the one in the hallway. So the carpet removal crew informed my landlord that the carpet was wet, and he gave me a very triumphant look. I responded by stating the obvious. That pets, no matter how well trained, will spray when they encounter another pet’s urine smell, and that poor Chloe had restrained herself for over two weeks. Happily for me, the carpet removal crew agreed that it is nearly impossible to stop your pet from peeing on a carpet that is covered in a different animal’s scent. My landlord grudgingly agreed, but I am positive he expects my pets to ruin the carpet in the family room. Sigh.

I am settling in a little better, the challenges of the last two days have kept me from feeling quite so “desperate”. I vacillate between wanting to stay at home and wanting to work. I really would love to write an article for publication, or maybe even a book. I would love to do crafty stuff, and volunteer for some good environmental causes, learn to cook Indian food. I would also love to take on a new legal challenge or several, and earn some money after years of incurring a massive debt. It is really hard to figure out what I want to do.

Luckily, I have some time! Tonight I am making chicken curry for the first time ever! Off to counquer the kitchen! Thank you all for your helpful suggestions and love! I miss you!

Denver Girl, signing off!

Desperate Housewives…

Desperate Housewives…. suddenly I relate.

I didn’t watch Desperate Housewives when it first came out because I thought it was a reality T.V. show. I didn’t want to spend my time watching a bunch of suburban women cheating on their husbands or doing whatever other idiotic thing the reality T.V. guru’s decided to offer as entertainment. However, one night, on an airplane to RebLaw 2006, I saw the pilot episode on the plane. I was immediately entranced with the story and proceeded to Netflix the hell out of the first season. The show was so wonderful, the characters so real. I really sympathized with the women in the show.

Well, I watched more of it today while I was cleaning house in my suburban home, on my quiet street, while my husband takes over corporate America. The show really hit me hard today, I really felt as though I understood it on a whole new level. I left behind almost all my close friends, my family, and my connections. I left my career at it’s very inception. I spent my day cleaning my living room, unpacking boxes, and attempting to entertain my small daughter with a variety of learning games. I began to feel really desperate!! All of the sudden I had an image of my days, spent like Bree, smoothing out wrinkles on the bedspread. Espescially now that law school has instilled in me a very obsessive compulsive streak.

Now I know, logically anyway, that I am not actually going to turn into a character on Desperate Housewives. I also know that I have been in this postion for a week and a half, and my sense of unease is compounded by the fact that our house is still unpacked. I also know that having nothing to do but clean the house and entertain the child is a contributing factor to this feeling. However, despite knowing this, I felt so incredibly lost today. I have got to find a job. I am afraid I am going to lose my mind if I am not doing something while Monkey is in school all day, at least until the baby gets here.

Well, thanks for listening to me rant,

Your Denver Desperate Housewife, in Jersey.