I'm going on vacation and I'm bringing a........

Bundle of nerves
Fluttery stomach

Cold of known origin
A knitting project missing half the yarn

Remember that game? Where you start with that statement, or one like it, and everyone adds one thing and you have to remember them all? That's me right now, I have to remember all the things!

I'm going to Orlando for the second annual Trauma and Attachment Conference. I was all gung-ho (what does that really mean? Anyone?) about it but now I am starting to get a little nervous. 60 women I don't know and 4 that I do know. The '4' includes myself! While I am excited and have been looking forward to it for months, I am also feeling a bit flippy. But holy washcloths I need the break- whew do I need the break!

Here's the thing. Some of the other women going have read my blog. I am grateful for every single person who reads this blog. I love it! However, I am aware of a few posts I wrote that may have been just a smidge short sighted. The kind of posts a person writes when they are sure- sure!- that they will never meet the people who read them.

I wrote a whole post about the day I found a white one, in a place I never expected to see a white one.
I wrote about my undying love of granny panties.
I wrote about my "brushie" feet and I believe I may have posted a picture as well.
I wrote, in detail and more than once, about my hair- removal impairment issues.

Now, I am going to meet face to face with some of the people who know these things about me. BAH! What was I thinking!

I went out yesterday and bought a dress. Not a fancy dress, just a fun, light dress for good times in warm weather. Teena (love that little darling, mwah!) saw the bag on the floor and we had a conversation about it.

T: what's that bag?
M: it's a bag.
T: what's in it?
M: a dress.
T: for me?
M; no..... for me.
T: can I see it?
M: *sigh* sure.
T: *rustle rustle, yank, pull* oh this is a pretty dress Mama!
M: thank you
T: but, it not fit you Mama, I think you made a mistake.
M: ................., are you saying you think it's too small for me Teena?
T: Mama look, this dress not fit you, it fits me!
M: (I look over and she is holding the dress with the neckline under her chin and the dress against herself and it goes to the floor) Ugh. Teena don't worry about it, the dress will fit me! (I know, I tried it on in the store and I hate that).

Tonite I told the girls about my trip, and they had the usual, predictable reactions. Teena, she wanted to know when I would be done talking so she could go back to her movie. Genea, she cried. She moaned that 5 days was so long and she did not want me to go.
Teena told her, "we've been through this before Gee-ya, remember before? It's okay, she comes back".
Is that so cute or what?
Tonite when I went in to check on them, I found Genea sound asleep on the floor in a pile of blankets. Oh my Genea. She loves me, she really does. She sleeps on the floor when something is really bothering her. I think that one of the biggest misconceptions about Attachment Disorder is  the belief that the child has no feelings toward the parent. Genea loves me, I know that. She is attached, I know that as well. But it is insecure, fearful and untrusting. My dear friend Annie once described it like a baby strapped into a papoose with 6 cords. 5 of the cords are securely fastened and the baby is attached to the mother. But that one strap, it flaps all around and can really do some damage. That's us, I think. Maybe we have 4 secure cords, but 4 is good!