Tuesday, August 7, 2012

My Honesty and Coping Mechanism

Just in case you have been following my book blog for awhile, you may have noticed a slowing of my reading. I am ready to come clean with a serious problem I have. Maybe, if I share my journey, more of you will bravely come forward, and admit your own weaknesses. Or, you'll just call me crazy.

So, let's get that part out in the open. I am crazy. Not quite certifiable but definitely not normal. Whatever normal is. So sit down for a minute and let me introduce myself to you properly. My name is Nancy. I am a suburban housewife. I am a mother of four children. I am school counselor. I am a wife. I am a reader. Those are the basics, although I could certainly add more to this list. I have a Master's degree in educational psychology. Surprisingly, this has not made me a stellar mother. Stunned me, too. When stressed out, I fall back on my old coping mechanisms. Therapy? Pharmaceuticals? Healthy lifestyle? All no.

I start a new hobby.

Generally speaking, I erroneously believe it is cheaper than therapy. My mind is occupied with learning things I know so very little about so my life stressor is pushed comfortably into a mental closet, seeping out only a little at a time and, theoretically, I live through a highly anxious time and have something to show for it; a book blog, a beautiful garden (fertilized with llama poo - the best fertilizer, dancing live with other mothers on stage, etc.).

So early this Spring I had another life changing event. My identity was about to change. I was getting a job transfer. I was changing from a high school counselor at the alternative school, one I felt comfortable doing, to being a junior high counselor in a different town.

So I got chickens.

Things were going so well. They were brooding in the garage under a heat lamp, growing feathers and being cute. Ten days before they were to be transferred to a failed eagle scout project coop, my stupid dog realized her true calling. She upset the box, chased them, tracked them, and proudly brought me their remains, wagging her happy Labrador tail.

I said bad words and lost a little bit more of my sanity. I saved one slobber covered chicken and watched her slip into a deep depression. So I pulled her out of her depression by giving her three new sisters, against my husband's better judgment.

For Mother's Day I got a $300 dog collar that shocks said dog when she leaves a set perimeter.

Last month I had my custom built chicken coop and run delivered to my house.

Long story short, my chicken hobby has taken a lot more time than I had anticipated. Not to mention, when the first egg is finally laid, it will have cost somewhere between $800 - $1000.

Bottom line - I should have tried Prozac.


M.A.D. said...

There is an old, but amazingly funny & heartwarming book you need to read - asap - called The Egg and I, by Betty MacDonald.

I promise you will LOVE it! :D <3

Jessica S. said...

When things change in my life, I have the tendency to start new hobbies too. I end up buying all sorts of supplies and having every intention to make stuff, like jewelry or art. My initial intention with it is to have fun and maybe sell what I make. Then time gets away from me and it all sits in a box for months on end.

Sometimes being a little crazy and spontaneous is a good thing. It keeps us happy despite the stress we face. :)

Carol N Wong said...

I start new hobbies too. My knitting is packed away, yarn costs too much for me and who wants 100 hats, 200 scarves and 10 eyeglasses holders. Then I went to embriodery. Frames double the cost of embriodery (I was given a lot of embriodery floss from a friend). So I did designs on T shirts, now I have ten. Then I went to books. Now I have over 400 of them. Can't keep up with the reading.

I love your chickens. I did an experiment with them. When the school said that they would gas them I took them home until one of the neightborhood dogs ran off them half of them. I gave them to a farm. All white leghorns. I loved them and their eggs.

I do take an antidepressent but it doesn't prevent me from starting one hobby after another.

Patricia Eimer said...

Stress and change was what started me writing. But as a former farm girl I have to tell you-- don't go from chickens to turkeys. There's a reason we kill those suckers by the thousands each year for Thanksgiving-- they're evil and they bite. Hard.

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Harvee Lau said...

But I like all the different colors of your chickens and it was so good of you to get her sisters so she and you wouldn't need prozac.