AMY MEISSNER
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Soul fever.

5/4/2015

13 Comments

 
"As parents, we develop an instinctual sense of what to do when our children get sick. Our instincts are part childhood memories of what brought us comfort, a bit of science, a large dose of compassion, and some parental adrenaline."

          Kim John Payne, M.Ed, excerpted from Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids

I've had a boy at home with a low-grade fever for four days, feeling lousy enough to tell me in great detail how much his skin hurts, but well enough to insist he needs to eat small portions of "I don't know, Mom, something soft/cold/smooth/and with milk...or maybe crunchy ... no, not crunchy, never mind " every hour.

My daughter was home for two of these days with a soul fever.

Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

But hang on, what is that?

(when children feel) upset, overwhelmed, at odds with the world. And most of all, at odds with their truest selves [...] Whether the source of the malady was internal or external, it's now raging within, occupying the child's attention and affecting their behavior. Affecting, also, the emotional climate of the home."  (Payne, Simplicity Parenting)

And I, as well, have had a combination of the two: the physical and the soul. I've certainly passed on this nasty cough to my son. I've possibly passed on my soul fever to my daughter, although she doesn't know the reasons behind mine. She doesn't know that I am watching the slow, messy spiral of someone I love. She doesn't know that to anticipate another's rock bottom is to travel partway there yourself, but she absorbs my adult energy anyway. 

So I have to do something to fix this.

I read Simplicity Parenting when the kids were younger, studied it twice in book groups and heard Kim John Payne speak twice. His work is brilliant, but I'd not thought about it for a while until today. How do I help these children? How do I help myself?

Amy Meissner, Reliquary series process. From the post Soul Fever, www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

1. Quiet things down.


If you find yourself -- or someone you love -- with a soul fever, I recommend starting with Kim John Payne's four simple tonics. Remarkably, the cure for a soul fever is the same as the cure for a physical one. And none of it is very easy.
Mother: 
-Do not work. Do. Not. Work. This is hard. Okay, just commit to one day off, despite the fact that you have a solo show in one month. And the photographer is coming in 2 weeks. Don't throw up.
-No NPR. This is hard.
-No television, no movies, only some show tunes allowed (pretty easy, except when you've heard "It's A Hard Knock Life" 3 times, then it's hard).
-Weigh the merits of dispensing Ibuprofen vs. letting the fever do its job. Commit to the latter.
-Ask yourself if the cough you've had for 3 weeks is finally going away or if it's just morphed into a sinus infection and ... is that a cold sore? Crap, you're kidding me.
-Make smoothies.

Boy:
-Stay home from school.
-Power read 2 1/2 Roald Dahl books, but stop when "The Witches" is a little too scary and you're worried you might have nightmares. Then blast through "The Phantom Tollbooth" in about 4 hours.
-Pajamas and bed-head optional, but highly encouraged. 
-Read the "BFG" a second time, but skip ahead to the exciting parts.

Girl: 
-Stay home from school.
-Commune with animals.
-Talk a lot about your feelings. Like, a lot -- like, for example, how you like animals better than people. And how you wish you were an animal. Maybe a unicorn. Yes, probably a unicorn. Or a tiger.

Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

2. Bring the afflicted close.

Mother:
-Make many small wool felt animals. Assume all design details will be dictated by someone else. Allow several hours.    
-Paint 26 tiny toadstools and only slightly freak out when your girl wants to organize them all while they're still wet.
-Make smoothies.
-Think about work. Think about what it would be like to work alone. Like, in New York or London or maybe Paris. Think about being 24 and ... oh, and RICH! ... working in Paris. With a wardrobe that doesn't include stretchy pants covered in cat hair. Yes, think about that. 
-Rinse out the Vitamix. 

Girl:
-Master the analog clock.
-Announce the time frequently throughout the day. Because now you CAN.
-Cry for no reason. 
-Cry for every reason.
          
Boy:
-Master the dictionary. Okay. You totally knew how to do that already. Duh.
-Throw up smoothie.
-Lie on the bathroom floor. 

Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

3. Let the fever run its course.

Mother:
-Attend "The Puppet Show that Lasts for One Hour." 
-Listen to the description of the Many Feelings. Try to ignore Whiney Voice often accompanied by Baby Talk.
-Make smoothies.    
-Break up ... rather ... "facilitate kindness between" bickering children.  
-Entertain the fleeting thought: "Maybe they'll both take a nap so I can wedge in an hour of un-interrupted work!" hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
-Okay, now wipe your eyes because that's some funny shit.   
-Do dishes.
          
Girl:
-Perform "The Puppet Show that Lasts for One Hour" with 3 intermissions. Do NOT let your brother watch. Scream, in fact, when he tries.
-Announce the time ... again. Get frustrated and start crying because crap if "5 minutes after 20" totally doesn't sound right and now you've forgotten how to tell time and it's probably because you're stupid. Except we don't say stupid.
-Except smoothies are stupid.
          
Boy:
-Draw yourself a bath upstairs but return quickly because bathing by one's self is boring and besides, is that a puppet show I hear my sister performing?
          
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

4. Allow for a slow strong return.

Boy:
-Complain about "The Witches" and explain that you would like the book removed from your Cozy Couch Area because the cover artwork makes you have a tummy ache. Really, you're feeling fine, it's just "The Witches" that makes you feel sick now. Blame your mother for this because she gave you the book and she should have known how sensitive you are to these things.

Girl:
-Announce the time using the big hand and the little hand for Papa when he comes home. 
-Announce that you will maybe perform "The Puppet Show that Lasts for One Hour" tomorrow at school. Because you will go there instead of staying home. 

Mother:
-Ignore dinner, no one wants it anyway, including you.
-Go for a long bike ride as soon as your husband walks in the door, airplane-weary, but still able to brush children's teeth and read (more!) and oversee pajamas (fresh!) and break up bickering (new techniques!). 
-Pedal and pedal and pedal.
-Ignore the phlegm you keep coughing up and listen to Hilary Frank's voice in your earbud and know you aren't alone.

Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever

-You aren't alone as a mother. You aren't alone worrying about another mother's descent, the messy spiraling one, the rock bottom you're anticipating -- there, you've said it even though you told yourself you wouldn't here -- the root of your soul fever.
-Know this time with your own children will never come again and think about it in the most beautiful, most kind way possible. Shift your bitter thoughts through images and words, then present them to the world so you are left with a sweetness behind these days. 
-Know it's okay to make this slight alteration in reality.

-Then wonder if your children would like Paris. Wonder if you even would.

Amy Meissner, from the post Soul Fever. www.amymeissner.com/blog/soul-fever
13 Comments
Roxanne Lasky link
5/4/2015 02:46:24 am

Only working on my soul these days, but will pass along to my daughter with two little ones. (littler than yours) So glad you're capturing these memories and keeping a sense of humor about it.

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Amy Meissner link
5/5/2015 01:19:26 pm

Roxanne,
I HIGHLY recommend the book Simplicity Parenting. Really, it's just so insightful. I wish your daughter all the best ... and lucky you! A Grandma!
XO Amy

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judy martin link
5/4/2015 10:03:22 am

Amy
These things that you write about in this post are so true and honest and not enough of us say them. Certainly, not as well as you have just done here.
It is so powerful that you are posting about your feelings and hopes and dreams and the mothering part of it all for others to read and be helped by. Really.
I have a lot of these kinds of things written in my hardcover journals that I wrote before internet - probably a good thing - but maybe not when I read what you write.
Your writing and your art is your guide to sanity. Clearly.
warmest regards
xx

Reply
Amy Meissner link
5/5/2015 01:26:07 pm

Judy,
As always, I'm just floored that you read my blog. I have thought about your journals many times and wished on and off that I was more prolific about keeping one these days. I used to, but stopped when my oldest was born. Somehow, pouring all of that emotion onto a page was the ultimate drain; I didn't like what I had to say at that raw time. I flit in and out of a sketchbook now, make notes and show up at this page here. I have to remind myself that it's more than enough.
Thank you so much for being out there. As a reader and a mother.
XO
Amy

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judy martin link
5/8/2015 12:56:34 am

the over 200 journals that I have kept since my 3rd child was born hold more than I can possibly consider.

I've been re-reading them this year for a final time, and although there are some emotional pages, there are not as many as one would think. I was not in high school when I started them, I was 33 years old. In these journals are recorded conversations between the children, quotes from novels or poems, notes from art books and magazines that I've read, and many sketches of ideas that change through thought process and drawing over time.
Now I find it a joy to go back to that over-full part of my life and remember it in all its beauty, and find things in those notes all over again.
My journals have given me more than it is possible to say.
I encourage you to use your sketchbook as a journal...and somehow, I think you do. I can tell.xx

Liz link
5/5/2015 10:00:37 am

Though I have never met you, your voice rings out from this post as familiar as that of an old friend. It is what brings me back, to read again, true life with a healthy measure of dry wit.
Kudos yet again ... and thanks.

Reply
Amy Meissner link
5/5/2015 01:31:23 pm

Liz,
Ahh yes, true life ... with photos that resist displaying the filthy dishes on the counter, the cat cleaning its rear on the kitchen table or the 8 pairs --- count 'em, EIGHT pairs -- of balled up wool kid socks in the living room.
I can't tell you how happy I am that you're coming back for more. I seriously want to run out of here screaming. Can I come visit you? Never mind, that would probably be weird.
XO
Amy

Reply
Michelle
5/5/2015 03:14:36 pm

What a great post Amy and the perfect antidote to my soul fever. Meet you in Paris!

Reply
Amy Meissner link
5/7/2015 01:20:54 am

Michelle,
Thank you and I'll take you up on the offer to meet in Paris, although I'll have to purchase new footwear -- these boiled wool mom slippers with the blown out toe are seriously NOT going to cut it there.
XO
Amy

Reply
Jen O link
5/5/2015 04:44:16 pm

As a single working mom during most of my kid's lives, I didn't get to live like this--it was all very pragmatic and urgent, with no sickness or school absences allowed. Now, as a privilege, I drive hours to sit with ailing grandchildren curled up on couches wrapped in blankets. Your writing sinks deeper than my own thoughts on this subject.

Reply
Amy Meissner link
5/7/2015 01:34:40 am

Dear Jen O,
Your comment is one that I've been waiting for. Believe me when I say that the reality of my situation is not lost on me, even though it may be buried in the day-to-day. It is where my gratitude and the deep breaths take me: my children are healthy, my partner is loving and caring, and I have the luxury of doing this work right now. I am in AWE of single parents. I realize that one thing -- just one thing -- could severely change my life. I think about this, and situations like yours, often. Please know all this.
XO
Amy

Reply
dee link
5/7/2015 11:54:11 pm

boy does this bring stuff back. wow. wow. I love how you described time in person-allotments. So much rich detail! I love how responses to books/smoothies/each other changes over the course of the time, signaling what it is to be in a family, but also recovery. I can feel the kids, anyway, getting better.

And, it's hard to hear when it's so intense, but it IS over in a flash.

Reply
Amy Meissner link
5/22/2015 06:57:09 am

Dee,
Thanks for reading carefully and commenting thoughtfully. Yes, it is over in a flash. And luckily, we are all better now.
XO Amy

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    Amy Meissner, textile artist. Photo credit Brian Adams, 2013. www.amymeissner.com

    Amy Meissner

    Artist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other.

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