This morning I was at a volunteer appreciation breakfast at my daughter's school where I have been volunteering in her kindergarten classroom each Friday for the last eight months. Another mother/volunteer asked me if Iris was my only daughter, and I said yes. No disclaimers of still trying, or we're hoping for another one. Just Yes, she's my only one. I nearly cried. How strange. This other mother looked at me intentionally as if I was giving off the vibe that I wanted to say more. But I refused. Yes. This is the first time in four years I was able to answer like that to that particular question, which unfairly is asked all the bloody time. The rest of the day I was off.

During class tonight, I answered a question on a quiz with three of the three muscles that insert in the bicipital groove, when I was only asked to name two, and I got it completely wrong. I advocated for at least half credit for having the correct answer even though I had not followed the directions correctly. But she asked me, "If a child did something wrong even though she knew what the rules were, how would you react." I said, "I think that is an unfair analogy." I was livid. I couldn't look at the teacher for the next fifteen minutes of class.

I worry about my anger sometimes. How easy it is for me to go from zero to a thousand in a matter of seconds. Then I rage for long spells and afterwards I am exhausted. Headachy and shaky as if I had had a seizure. I rage at in justice. Injustice aimed at me and others. I fight other people's battles although I am learning not to for it only gets me trouble. I rage at my husband's unfinished projects or broken promises to clean up his piles of crap (believe me, I am keeping a trash house a bay, more on that later). I rage when people are nasty to others or to me when it is undeserved, then worry that I do the same in my own rageful moments. What we most dislike in others is what we dislike in ourselves, so they say. Was that too cliche? I take baths to calm down. The scalding water overpowering the heat of the anger in every limb. Breath in the steam. Deep breaths. Tai Qi helps. Qi Gong.

I started Tai Qi last October on the recommendation from my acupuncturist. I had taken Tai Qi in Poland back in 1997-98. I loved it then and I love it now. Remember to breathe. Pay attention to the Qi. I don't practice at home as I should because we really don't have the room. My husband is taking the Tai Qi class with me. He is usually the only man and we are the youngest of the students. We are learning the New China form. He needs to work on the waist turns and keeping it slow and deliberate. I need to work on not getting stuck in incorrect routines. Breathe. Must breathe. If I am having a bad day, when I get to Tai Qi and start moving and breathing, I feel the tension, anger or stress falling away. I get lost in the movements that have now become my own. I listen to my breath, feel the warmth build up in my hands. It makes me feel like I am part of something, part of history, perhaps a level of meaning that people have been exploring and embodying for thousands of years. Have I mentioned that I am idealistic? More on that later. I will keep you posted.