The doctors let my dad go home this afternoon. The jack ass cardiologist (he is actually a jack ass, it’s not just that I disagree with him) decided yesterday that the main priority was to get his heart rate down and if they could manage that, then he could go home for the weekend and go back for the procedures on Monday as an outpatient. So it took two days and an obscene amount of medication, but they were able to get his heart rate down from the 150-160bpm range to the 90’s, which was their target. So they unhooked and unplugged and sent him on his merry way with the absolute instructions to do NOTHING for the next day and half. Seriously. Nothing. I think the doctor’s exact words were to “sit in your chair and watch football, nothing else.” That, at least, makes me happy.
I am not exactly thrilled that they let him go home. But it is what he and my mom wanted. It’s almost as if they are already treating him like a terminal case. Yes, their gut feeling is that the massive tumor in his lung is cancer. And yes, I know that if it is indeed a terminal diagnosis that he will choose the most intervention free path possible. So maybe they aren’t entirely wrong to look at him that way, but until we know something for certain, I’m just not going there. I want a diagnosis. I want a treatment plan. I want a prognosis. I want information and I would like to have it now. Instead I’m going to have to wait for Monday for the procedures and then Wednesday for the results. It’s infuriating.
It’s not that I like to be in crisis mode. I really don’t. But I really do thrive on information and until I get it, there’s just nothing for me to do except sit and wait. And do nothing. And I’m really not good at doing nothing when someone I love is in danger. To be still right now is taking a tremendous amount of faith and trust in the process. I guess it’s good practice for what is to come.
11/14/09
11/13/09 - Growly
I have always referred to where my parents live as Jabuti, New Mexico. The closest town with a real grocery store is 30 minutes away and it is a thriving metropolis of about 5,000 people or so. There is a larger town another 30 or so minutes beyond that, but to say that it possesses significant civilization and/or culture is to dramatically overstate.
I have never really understood the appeal of the area. Yes the rocks are pretty. But it’s unbelievably hot in the summer, it’s infuriatingly windy in the fall and spring and it still snows in the winter. I don’t get why you would choose to live in the high plains desert and still have to put up with snow in the winter. If anything, the weather closely resembles the weather here in Colorado just more extreme. And it’s always dry as all get out, no matter what the weather is doing. It’s just not a very hospitable place to live my humble opinion.
Their house is at least an hour away from the nearest hospital. They don’t get cell service at their house. Their only option for internet service is either slower than dirt dial up or uber-expensive satellite. They lose power and phone service all the time because of the myriad of weather conditions. There is no middle class; the entire population is either over the top rich or just barely scraping by poor.
And now I get it even less.
Because with everything happening with my dad’s health right now, we have to wait until Monday for them to do the bronchoscopy and biopsy because the hospital doesn’t have the staff available for the procedure during the weekends. I dare not think about what would happen if someone came in an emergent situation needing a procedure that they don’t happen to have staff for on the weekend. “Feel free to live here and enjoy the scenery; just don’t get sick on a weekend.”
The waiting is driving me crazy. I hate waiting. I thrive on information and what the doctor’s are giving me right now is the furthest thing from useful information. If I could growl right now, I would.
I have never really understood the appeal of the area. Yes the rocks are pretty. But it’s unbelievably hot in the summer, it’s infuriatingly windy in the fall and spring and it still snows in the winter. I don’t get why you would choose to live in the high plains desert and still have to put up with snow in the winter. If anything, the weather closely resembles the weather here in Colorado just more extreme. And it’s always dry as all get out, no matter what the weather is doing. It’s just not a very hospitable place to live my humble opinion.
Their house is at least an hour away from the nearest hospital. They don’t get cell service at their house. Their only option for internet service is either slower than dirt dial up or uber-expensive satellite. They lose power and phone service all the time because of the myriad of weather conditions. There is no middle class; the entire population is either over the top rich or just barely scraping by poor.
And now I get it even less.
Because with everything happening with my dad’s health right now, we have to wait until Monday for them to do the bronchoscopy and biopsy because the hospital doesn’t have the staff available for the procedure during the weekends. I dare not think about what would happen if someone came in an emergent situation needing a procedure that they don’t happen to have staff for on the weekend. “Feel free to live here and enjoy the scenery; just don’t get sick on a weekend.”
The waiting is driving me crazy. I hate waiting. I thrive on information and what the doctor’s are giving me right now is the furthest thing from useful information. If I could growl right now, I would.
11/12/09
And Next on the Agenda is...
My mom called me around lunchtime today to tell me that my dad was in the back of ambulance being taken to the hospital because they had discovered he was in Atrial Flutter and his blood pressure was soaring at a routine visit. I mean, the fact that my dad was actually at a doctor’s office was anything but routine. This is the first time I can remember him being at a doctor’s office voluntarily for probably 10 years or more. But this persistent cough he has finally got to him and in he went. Little did he know that he would walk in there under his own volition and his body would betray him and land him squarely in the holding hands of modern medicine.
They did a CT scan and found an 8 centimeter large mass in his lung which is pushing up into his aorta causing all sorts of serious problems. The first of which is the Atrial Flutter, which they cannot get to revert back to normal sinus rhythm. The second of which is full body edema and his blood pressure is through the roof as is his heart rate. His oxygen saturation is way down and he also has fluid in the lower lobes of both lungs.
Is this fucking year over yet? Seriously.
Anyway, they’re now waiting for the cardiologist and the pulmonologist to make an appearance so they can look at the CT results and make a recommendation for what to do now. To me it’s obvious that the mass has to come out. But my mom wasn’t sure if they would want to run more tests first or just go ahead and get him into surgery to take the sucker out.
So for now, I am breathing and trying to just stay present. We’ll tackle this as it comes and until we know more, I’m just sitting still. I’m not planning. I’m trying not to think. I’m just being. I’m kissing my babies and holding them tight. I’m indulging in some serious brain candy with Thursday night TV and maybe having nothing but popcorn and Snickers for dinner. I’m breathing in and out and waiting for news.
They did a CT scan and found an 8 centimeter large mass in his lung which is pushing up into his aorta causing all sorts of serious problems. The first of which is the Atrial Flutter, which they cannot get to revert back to normal sinus rhythm. The second of which is full body edema and his blood pressure is through the roof as is his heart rate. His oxygen saturation is way down and he also has fluid in the lower lobes of both lungs.
Is this fucking year over yet? Seriously.
Anyway, they’re now waiting for the cardiologist and the pulmonologist to make an appearance so they can look at the CT results and make a recommendation for what to do now. To me it’s obvious that the mass has to come out. But my mom wasn’t sure if they would want to run more tests first or just go ahead and get him into surgery to take the sucker out.
So for now, I am breathing and trying to just stay present. We’ll tackle this as it comes and until we know more, I’m just sitting still. I’m not planning. I’m trying not to think. I’m just being. I’m kissing my babies and holding them tight. I’m indulging in some serious brain candy with Thursday night TV and maybe having nothing but popcorn and Snickers for dinner. I’m breathing in and out and waiting for news.
11/11/09
This? This is a Vent
I woke up crabbier than crabby this morning so today’s post is just one big ‘ol vent session. I was going to vent on Facebook and then remembered that today is Veteran’s Day and felt like a big ‘ol selfish person for wanting to vent instead of thanking all the soldiers past, present and future. So you get it instead. Feel free to just come back tomorrow.
The children don’t have school today and I would love to take them to Denver and go the Natural History Museum or the Children’s Museum or go out for a fun lunch at one of their favorite places. But I can’t do any of that. I can’t drive to Denver because I have to conserve gas. I can’t even take them to McDonald’s for lunch let alone Fargo’s or Chuck E. Cheese. I can’t really do anything with them today because we have no fucking money.
I’ve tried really hard to stay positive about this whole financial crisis that we’re in. I’ve tried really hard to keep it all in perspective and know that it’s for the best and will give us a chance at real stability instead of credit card funded illusion. I’ve struggled to keep the bitterness at bay by taking responsibility for my actions while not laying a gigantic morass of guilt around my neck. I’ve done all of these things every day since we first realized that bankruptcy was our only option.
But today? Today I am angry and bitter and guilty. Because I manage the money in this house and I am apparently so good at it that I managed us right into near complete financial ruin. I so want to take my sweet children and do something fun and frivolous today and I can’t because I fucked up. And that feels pretty awful. And that’s not even touching the guilt that floods if I consider what would happen if one of the cars broke down or our heater went out.
Today I want to throw a huge, out of control temper tantrum about the whole thing and go to Starbuck’s on the way to Red Robin. But I can’t. And that sucks.
The children don’t have school today and I would love to take them to Denver and go the Natural History Museum or the Children’s Museum or go out for a fun lunch at one of their favorite places. But I can’t do any of that. I can’t drive to Denver because I have to conserve gas. I can’t even take them to McDonald’s for lunch let alone Fargo’s or Chuck E. Cheese. I can’t really do anything with them today because we have no fucking money.
I’ve tried really hard to stay positive about this whole financial crisis that we’re in. I’ve tried really hard to keep it all in perspective and know that it’s for the best and will give us a chance at real stability instead of credit card funded illusion. I’ve struggled to keep the bitterness at bay by taking responsibility for my actions while not laying a gigantic morass of guilt around my neck. I’ve done all of these things every day since we first realized that bankruptcy was our only option.
But today? Today I am angry and bitter and guilty. Because I manage the money in this house and I am apparently so good at it that I managed us right into near complete financial ruin. I so want to take my sweet children and do something fun and frivolous today and I can’t because I fucked up. And that feels pretty awful. And that’s not even touching the guilt that floods if I consider what would happen if one of the cars broke down or our heater went out.
Today I want to throw a huge, out of control temper tantrum about the whole thing and go to Starbuck’s on the way to Red Robin. But I can’t. And that sucks.
11/10/09
Change it Up
Sesame Street has been on the air for 40 years today. NPR did a big story on how it’s changed throughout the years and what’s stayed the same. Apparently the biggest thing that has stayed the same is that the show could count on the kids loving pretty much whatever they did. Because it turns out that kids are super adaptable. It’s the adults who disagree with the change. I laughed out loud when I heard this.
Because here’s the thing: as parents we go out of our way to get our kids into routine pretty much from birth. Feeding schedules, sleeping schedules, developmental schedules, you name it and we have a schedule or recommended method for it. And the routines only get more entrenched and complicated as the kids get older. We all cuss out daylight savings time for screwing up the kids’ schedules and blame all the temper tantrums and sleep troubles on the slightest disruption in routine. Even when we don’t really think we have a routine. We stay home on week nights instead of having family get togethers because we don’t want to mess up the kids’ routines. We schedule our whole lives around naps and eating and homework and school and anything and everything else we can jam into our daily lives.
But according to all of the child development experts that Sesame Street calls on when constructing its programming, children are utterly and completely adaptable. They don’t care if Elmo is moved around with wires or if he’s computer generated. They don’t care if Big Bird says hello the same way every morning. They don’t care if the Sesame Street sets are the same every time they tune in. As long as the show is there and singing and engaging and giving them awesome Muppets to look at and believe in, they couldn’t care less whether Cookie Monster has teeth or not.
I guess it is nice to know that as long as my kids are engaged and being loved through every day that that’s good enough for them. Now, if I could just figure out how to let go of my need for routine we’d be getting somewhere.
Because here’s the thing: as parents we go out of our way to get our kids into routine pretty much from birth. Feeding schedules, sleeping schedules, developmental schedules, you name it and we have a schedule or recommended method for it. And the routines only get more entrenched and complicated as the kids get older. We all cuss out daylight savings time for screwing up the kids’ schedules and blame all the temper tantrums and sleep troubles on the slightest disruption in routine. Even when we don’t really think we have a routine. We stay home on week nights instead of having family get togethers because we don’t want to mess up the kids’ routines. We schedule our whole lives around naps and eating and homework and school and anything and everything else we can jam into our daily lives.
But according to all of the child development experts that Sesame Street calls on when constructing its programming, children are utterly and completely adaptable. They don’t care if Elmo is moved around with wires or if he’s computer generated. They don’t care if Big Bird says hello the same way every morning. They don’t care if the Sesame Street sets are the same every time they tune in. As long as the show is there and singing and engaging and giving them awesome Muppets to look at and believe in, they couldn’t care less whether Cookie Monster has teeth or not.
I guess it is nice to know that as long as my kids are engaged and being loved through every day that that’s good enough for them. Now, if I could just figure out how to let go of my need for routine we’d be getting somewhere.
11/9/09
Oh, Procrastination, You Minx!
Procrastination. It’s such a lovely thing.
“Oh, I’m procrastinating!” said in an offhand, giggly sort of way. As if I’m some well to do woman who has a gigantic list of things to do at all times and occasionally gives myself permission to be naughty. Tee-hee, tra-la-la, pish posh and all that.
When in reality, I am a stay at home mom who is literally just taking each day as it comes. My favorite days are actually the days when I can lay in bed and stare out the window until The Girl comes to get me and we end up lying in bed cuddling for minutes on end. When I can leisurely drink my cup of coffee while checking my email or get The Girl set up with some artsy project. I love days that can just unfold. I go back and forth on whether this is because I am really in my core an inherently lazy person or because I just like to dictate my own pace.
But there are days, especially coming after I’ve essentially done nothing for a week while I’ve been begging someone to take me out back and put me out of misery, where I actually have real stuff to do. Lists jockeying for attention in my peripheral vision while I do my damnedest to ignore them. Like today for instance. I actually had several things on my to-do list today and I got exactly zero of them done.
Partially because I didn’t really have a burning desire to do any of it and mostly because I let my college roommate’s impeccable timing on instant messenger steal the bulk of my afternoon. Seriously, she and I could chat for days if we’d allow ourselves to.
But then I hear the garage door go up and I realize that my husband and The Boy are home and suddenly my to-do list is doing a sultry little “I told you so dance” right smack in the middle of my line of sight. I smile when they walk through the door and dodge the “what did you do today” questions knowing full well that I will indeed tackle that to-do list. Tomorrow.
“Oh, I’m procrastinating!” said in an offhand, giggly sort of way. As if I’m some well to do woman who has a gigantic list of things to do at all times and occasionally gives myself permission to be naughty. Tee-hee, tra-la-la, pish posh and all that.
When in reality, I am a stay at home mom who is literally just taking each day as it comes. My favorite days are actually the days when I can lay in bed and stare out the window until The Girl comes to get me and we end up lying in bed cuddling for minutes on end. When I can leisurely drink my cup of coffee while checking my email or get The Girl set up with some artsy project. I love days that can just unfold. I go back and forth on whether this is because I am really in my core an inherently lazy person or because I just like to dictate my own pace.
But there are days, especially coming after I’ve essentially done nothing for a week while I’ve been begging someone to take me out back and put me out of misery, where I actually have real stuff to do. Lists jockeying for attention in my peripheral vision while I do my damnedest to ignore them. Like today for instance. I actually had several things on my to-do list today and I got exactly zero of them done.
Partially because I didn’t really have a burning desire to do any of it and mostly because I let my college roommate’s impeccable timing on instant messenger steal the bulk of my afternoon. Seriously, she and I could chat for days if we’d allow ourselves to.
But then I hear the garage door go up and I realize that my husband and The Boy are home and suddenly my to-do list is doing a sultry little “I told you so dance” right smack in the middle of my line of sight. I smile when they walk through the door and dodge the “what did you do today” questions knowing full well that I will indeed tackle that to-do list. Tomorrow.
11/8/09
To Play Or Not To Play
Pretty much since The Boy could walk I’ve struggled with the question of toys. He is all boy when it comes to his choice of play things. He’s been able to pick out and identify a huge range of superheroes from the time he could speak. He’s adored Star Wars since he was old enough to not put the action figures directly into his mouth. He gravitates towards swords and guns and other weapons of violence. He’s a rough and tumble, get down and dirty kind of boy (although he does play kitchen, mommy and daddy and dress up with his sister in a really sweet way). I’ve often wondered if we should have only let him play with all wooden toys designed to engage his creativity instead of battery needing plastic play for him sorts of toys.
Here’s where my main struggle comes in. The Boy really wants to play with G.I. Joes. Which I had always planned on shutting down immediately as I was not at all keen on the idea of him playing with toys whose entire purpose was to fight. We live in a neighborhood where almost all of The Boy’s friends’ fathers are in the military. His first best friend was our neighbor B who was in the army and lost his life in Iraq. Several of his school friends have family members in the military. His Papa Tractor is a retired Marine and his Uncle is in the Navy. So now I don’t think I can just put my foot down with a resounding (but unexplained) no without feeling like an absolute hypocrite.
I have a deep respect for the people who choose to be soldiers. In fact because of B, every time I see a soldier in uniform I have to use all of my willpower not to just hug them. So when The Boy says to me “I want to be a soldier when I grow up because I want to help people” it makes me cry and it makes me want to support him in whatever way I can. Because what mother doesn’t want their son to grow up with the sole intention of helping people?
Here’s where my main struggle comes in. The Boy really wants to play with G.I. Joes. Which I had always planned on shutting down immediately as I was not at all keen on the idea of him playing with toys whose entire purpose was to fight. We live in a neighborhood where almost all of The Boy’s friends’ fathers are in the military. His first best friend was our neighbor B who was in the army and lost his life in Iraq. Several of his school friends have family members in the military. His Papa Tractor is a retired Marine and his Uncle is in the Navy. So now I don’t think I can just put my foot down with a resounding (but unexplained) no without feeling like an absolute hypocrite.
I have a deep respect for the people who choose to be soldiers. In fact because of B, every time I see a soldier in uniform I have to use all of my willpower not to just hug them. So when The Boy says to me “I want to be a soldier when I grow up because I want to help people” it makes me cry and it makes me want to support him in whatever way I can. Because what mother doesn’t want their son to grow up with the sole intention of helping people?
11/7/09
Continued Aftermath
So it turns out that my husband must have some sort of super immune system. Because this vomit madness aftermath has lasted a lot longer than the 24 expected hours for The Girl and me. By yesterday afternoon The Girl was on her way back to normal and I felt sure that other than the aforementioned muscle soreness, so was I. But I actually feel worse today than I did yesterday. I have less than no energy and I almost feel like I do post-migraine. The daylight is a wee bit too bright and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out if I move any faster than a turtle. I just can’t quite get my brain to react at a normal rate or form thoughts entirely coherently. I have to erase about every other word as I type it because of typos and I have to re-read every sentence to make sure it actually makes sense. Very strange and I’m over it now.
I’m just thoroughly grateful that it’s the weekend. Because we can all have two full days without responsibilities to catch up, get completely healthy and get everything put back in order. That is, as soon as I can stand up for more than 2 minutes at a time. My husband got called to work some overtime today from home, The Boy seems to be feeling much, much better as he’s outside currently enjoying the gorgeous weather playing with his neighborhood friends decked out in his Captain Rex (red Clone Trooper) Halloween costume. The Girl is curled up on the couch beside me watching episode after episode of Scooby Doo while I clumsily type away on my laptop fighting the ebb and flow of nausea.
Today is also a bittersweet kind of day. It’s the birthday of one of my oldest and dearest friends – Happy Birthday T!! I love you and hope that you have a wonderful day which will set the tone for a fabulous year!
But it is also the fourth anniversary of when our dear friend and neighbor B was killed in Iraq. You are alive and well in our memories and we love you B. Be at peace.
I’m just thoroughly grateful that it’s the weekend. Because we can all have two full days without responsibilities to catch up, get completely healthy and get everything put back in order. That is, as soon as I can stand up for more than 2 minutes at a time. My husband got called to work some overtime today from home, The Boy seems to be feeling much, much better as he’s outside currently enjoying the gorgeous weather playing with his neighborhood friends decked out in his Captain Rex (red Clone Trooper) Halloween costume. The Girl is curled up on the couch beside me watching episode after episode of Scooby Doo while I clumsily type away on my laptop fighting the ebb and flow of nausea.
Today is also a bittersweet kind of day. It’s the birthday of one of my oldest and dearest friends – Happy Birthday T!! I love you and hope that you have a wonderful day which will set the tone for a fabulous year!
But it is also the fourth anniversary of when our dear friend and neighbor B was killed in Iraq. You are alive and well in our memories and we love you B. Be at peace.
11/6/09 - I Hope You Enjoy Your Stay
Well unfortunately about an hour or so after I wrote yesterday’s somewhat witty quip about needing a thesaurus I was bolting for the bathroom. Every 15 minutes or so for about 8 hours straight. The Girl was plagued all day as well so we had a retching symphony going on in this house. I’m sure it was lovely. And my husband got home to his two completely debilitated girls soon to be followed by a third encore by The Boy. He probably wanted to go right back to work, I know I would have. But instead he dutifully cleaned up the remnants of The Boy’s projectile offering, rubbed The Girls’ back as she leaned over the trash can and eyed me warily as I went to and fro from the downstairs bathroom to the couch and back again.
Obviously we kept both kids home from school today (much to The Girl’s dismay). My husband kicked into gear with the de-pukifying of the house by cleaning furiously (bless his heart) while the children and I spent the morning on the couch watching cartoons. The Boy snagged my husband into an intricate Star Wars game when The Girl fell asleep mid-afternoon and I discontinued the cartoons in favor of catching up on my DVR’d shows. I still have waves of nausea that roll over me, but it appears their only goal is to taunt me, not to actually do anything.
And since I’ve already ventured into “too much information” territory, I will share the worst part of this whole thing. It turns out that relentless barfing for 8 hours straight isn’t actually that bad. It’s the after effects that really suck. It’s the fact that throwing up uses every single one of your core, internal muscles and after 8 hours of that doing something as little as laughing, sneezing or coughing the next day makes you want to cry. And that throwing up nothing but bile for 8 hours leaves your throat raw and makes you cough. So the suffering compounds.
Now that this nastiness has made a complete circuit of my family, I am fervently hoping it will pack its bags and get the hell out.
Obviously we kept both kids home from school today (much to The Girl’s dismay). My husband kicked into gear with the de-pukifying of the house by cleaning furiously (bless his heart) while the children and I spent the morning on the couch watching cartoons. The Boy snagged my husband into an intricate Star Wars game when The Girl fell asleep mid-afternoon and I discontinued the cartoons in favor of catching up on my DVR’d shows. I still have waves of nausea that roll over me, but it appears their only goal is to taunt me, not to actually do anything.
And since I’ve already ventured into “too much information” territory, I will share the worst part of this whole thing. It turns out that relentless barfing for 8 hours straight isn’t actually that bad. It’s the after effects that really suck. It’s the fact that throwing up uses every single one of your core, internal muscles and after 8 hours of that doing something as little as laughing, sneezing or coughing the next day makes you want to cry. And that throwing up nothing but bile for 8 hours leaves your throat raw and makes you cough. So the suffering compounds.
Now that this nastiness has made a complete circuit of my family, I am fervently hoping it will pack its bags and get the hell out.
11/5/09
Welcome to Vomitown
My house has been vomitastic for days now. And let me just state for the record that I am thoroughly done with it now. It’s hit The Boy twice now, it took my husband out for a couple of days and this morning it descended upon The Girl. Although she seems to definitely be getting the worst end of the dry heaves so far. She can’t even keep down water at this point and is rolling from the couch onto the floor to hover over the trash can about every 15 minutes at this point. No fever, thank goodness. But how much throwing up can one little girl take for Christ sakes? I mean at what point do I call the doc for anti-nausea meds? She has zero color in her face and has started trying to fight the heaving which leaves her in tears and screaming by the end of every puke session. It’s heartbreaking really.
I’ve committed to a princess movie fest today in an effort to at least make her smile. We’ve done Cinderella and The Tinkerbelle Movie so far and have just delved into The Little Mermaid. Probably we’ll watch Mulan or Beauty and the Beast next (those two are my favorites, but don’t tell anyone).
And I suppose I should be grateful. Because I would take 24 hours of stomach bug over pneumonia or H1N1 any day. That’s about how long it seems to run; 24 hours of throwing up, low grade fever and generally feeling utterly punk. But then it’s gone and recovery seems to happen really fast. But at this point, I’ve definitely reached my saturation point for vomit.
Right now I’m putting just as much energy into hoping I don’t get this thing as I am wishing time would speed up so that The Girl could be done with it already. I just really have less than no desire to spend tomorrow or the weekend barfing for 24 hours.
But I’m getting more nauseous as the day goes on, so I suppose I’ll have to drag out the thesaurus soon to find alternative words for “to throw up” as I’m sure I’m next on the hit list.
I’ve committed to a princess movie fest today in an effort to at least make her smile. We’ve done Cinderella and The Tinkerbelle Movie so far and have just delved into The Little Mermaid. Probably we’ll watch Mulan or Beauty and the Beast next (those two are my favorites, but don’t tell anyone).
And I suppose I should be grateful. Because I would take 24 hours of stomach bug over pneumonia or H1N1 any day. That’s about how long it seems to run; 24 hours of throwing up, low grade fever and generally feeling utterly punk. But then it’s gone and recovery seems to happen really fast. But at this point, I’ve definitely reached my saturation point for vomit.
Right now I’m putting just as much energy into hoping I don’t get this thing as I am wishing time would speed up so that The Girl could be done with it already. I just really have less than no desire to spend tomorrow or the weekend barfing for 24 hours.
But I’m getting more nauseous as the day goes on, so I suppose I’ll have to drag out the thesaurus soon to find alternative words for “to throw up” as I’m sure I’m next on the hit list.
11/4/09 - In the Heat of the Moment
**Sorry. Entire family consumed with vomit madness. Keeping fingers crossed that it misses me.**
I had woken up extraordinarily early one weekend morning when I was little and instead of turning on the TV or reading a book or any of the other totally permissible and appropriate things that I could have done, I decided instead to gather all of my mom’s nail polish and pour it down the banister leading to the basement. And then to add a little creative flair I decided to squirt an entire tube of toothpaste down the same banister and mix it all together into an artistic masterpiece.
As I was putting on the finishing touches, my mom came into the kitchen and discovered what I had done. I remember backing away from her rage and as I turned on my heel to bolt to my room, I ran right smack into the kitchen wall. I hit the wall so hard it knocked me down, and I ended up with the mother of all goose eggs right in the middle of my forehead. I remember looking up at my mom and she was laughing. And I didn’t understand how she could be.
But now I get it. Because when one of my kids aren’t paying attention and end up on their face or their little butts, I find myself laughing at them as well. And it dawned on me the other day that it probably really pisses them off. I remember the indignation I felt at the ripe age of 6 or 7 being laughed at when I felt like the world should have stopped in an effort to bring me recompense for not only the pain of my injury but also the embarrassment.
I also look back on that morning however and understand now that in that moment of me crashing into the strawberry wallpaper adorned wall, all of that rage my mother had was instantly transformed into laughter. And that is always a gift no matter the inspiration.
So what’s the point of bringing up these childhood memories? I guess mostly that I just hope to remember both perspectives in those heated moments and also I hope I have grandchildren so that The Boy and The Girl can someday understand too.
I had woken up extraordinarily early one weekend morning when I was little and instead of turning on the TV or reading a book or any of the other totally permissible and appropriate things that I could have done, I decided instead to gather all of my mom’s nail polish and pour it down the banister leading to the basement. And then to add a little creative flair I decided to squirt an entire tube of toothpaste down the same banister and mix it all together into an artistic masterpiece.
As I was putting on the finishing touches, my mom came into the kitchen and discovered what I had done. I remember backing away from her rage and as I turned on my heel to bolt to my room, I ran right smack into the kitchen wall. I hit the wall so hard it knocked me down, and I ended up with the mother of all goose eggs right in the middle of my forehead. I remember looking up at my mom and she was laughing. And I didn’t understand how she could be.
But now I get it. Because when one of my kids aren’t paying attention and end up on their face or their little butts, I find myself laughing at them as well. And it dawned on me the other day that it probably really pisses them off. I remember the indignation I felt at the ripe age of 6 or 7 being laughed at when I felt like the world should have stopped in an effort to bring me recompense for not only the pain of my injury but also the embarrassment.
I also look back on that morning however and understand now that in that moment of me crashing into the strawberry wallpaper adorned wall, all of that rage my mother had was instantly transformed into laughter. And that is always a gift no matter the inspiration.
So what’s the point of bringing up these childhood memories? I guess mostly that I just hope to remember both perspectives in those heated moments and also I hope I have grandchildren so that The Boy and The Girl can someday understand too.
11/3/09
Random Acts of Kindness
I always assume that people will do the right thing when it comes down to it. There is a cynical streak in me however that always points and laughs at that “cup half full” part of me whenever I run into generally mean for no reason people. But today, that part of me that believes that people are generally good in all the ways that matter most, good naturedly poked and giggled at the cynic.
My husband is sick with the same vomit madness that The Boy had, so he has basically ceased to exist for the last 24 hours. In an effort to keep from having to drive back and forth into town in between taking The Boy and The Girl to their respective schools, I decided to splurge and take The Girl and me out to breakfast while we waited. It wasn’t a huge splurge but it gave us a bit of time to talk and color and eat yummy food that I didn’t have to cook. After we were done eating I went up to pay and I swiped my debit card only to discover that the card was expired. Oh. My. God.
Thank goodness I grabbed some cash we had laying around the house on my way out the door (thank you subconscious!), but I was still short. The hostess who was ringing me up totally could have pulled the bitch card on me and been well within her rights. I should be more together and aware than that. Especially now that we are completely credit card free and rely only on cash/debit; I have to have my shit together more than that. But I didn’t. And you know what? She was extraordinarily kind and gave me the difference in cash from her own wallet. And then when I was on the verge of tears because I felt so badly for not being to leave a tip for our server who was equally kind, she offered to give her a slice of pie on her break on our behalf.
I am just so thoroughly grateful for random acts of kindness and I’m on the lookout for ways to pay it forward.
My husband is sick with the same vomit madness that The Boy had, so he has basically ceased to exist for the last 24 hours. In an effort to keep from having to drive back and forth into town in between taking The Boy and The Girl to their respective schools, I decided to splurge and take The Girl and me out to breakfast while we waited. It wasn’t a huge splurge but it gave us a bit of time to talk and color and eat yummy food that I didn’t have to cook. After we were done eating I went up to pay and I swiped my debit card only to discover that the card was expired. Oh. My. God.
Thank goodness I grabbed some cash we had laying around the house on my way out the door (thank you subconscious!), but I was still short. The hostess who was ringing me up totally could have pulled the bitch card on me and been well within her rights. I should be more together and aware than that. Especially now that we are completely credit card free and rely only on cash/debit; I have to have my shit together more than that. But I didn’t. And you know what? She was extraordinarily kind and gave me the difference in cash from her own wallet. And then when I was on the verge of tears because I felt so badly for not being to leave a tip for our server who was equally kind, she offered to give her a slice of pie on her break on our behalf.
I am just so thoroughly grateful for random acts of kindness and I’m on the lookout for ways to pay it forward.
11/2/09
Playdate Bliss
Mondays are usually the days when I map out the rest of the week. We have a slow morning where I play catch up on some computer stuff and generally taking inventory of the priorities of the week and what needs to be done. Mondays are usually just totally laid back, take it as it comes sort of days.
But today The Girl and I had a day long play date with a dear friend that we have been trying to get together with for months and something always comes up. But this morning we both realized we had the whole day free and jumped at the chance to finally get together. I figured we would play for the morning, maybe have some lunch and then we would come home and carry on with our typical rambling Monday.
Instead we were at P’s house all day long. Seriously. I had no idea how fast time was flying until I looked at the clock and it was suddenly only about an hour before dinner. And I suddenly felt simultaneously horribly self-conscious for high jacking her entire day and thoroughly selfish for being so happy that I just got to spend the entire day with P and her amazing kiddos.
Every once in a while I meet someone who is just really a kindred spirit and my number must have been drawn today because I hit the jackpot. Not only does P understand me on a level that I have a hard time putting words to, but her sweet children are also just really my people. Her twin girls spent most of the day alternating sitting in my lap while I read to them and let them play with all of my jewelry. And her son played so sweetly with The Girl and we set a play date for the next time The Boy is off of school so he could have a fellow boy to play with.
I just could not have imagined a better way to spend my Monday. Dear friend, the sweetest kiddos, awesome conversation and a tasty lunch of her awesome lime chicken which I am going to make as soon as possible.
But today The Girl and I had a day long play date with a dear friend that we have been trying to get together with for months and something always comes up. But this morning we both realized we had the whole day free and jumped at the chance to finally get together. I figured we would play for the morning, maybe have some lunch and then we would come home and carry on with our typical rambling Monday.
Instead we were at P’s house all day long. Seriously. I had no idea how fast time was flying until I looked at the clock and it was suddenly only about an hour before dinner. And I suddenly felt simultaneously horribly self-conscious for high jacking her entire day and thoroughly selfish for being so happy that I just got to spend the entire day with P and her amazing kiddos.
Every once in a while I meet someone who is just really a kindred spirit and my number must have been drawn today because I hit the jackpot. Not only does P understand me on a level that I have a hard time putting words to, but her sweet children are also just really my people. Her twin girls spent most of the day alternating sitting in my lap while I read to them and let them play with all of my jewelry. And her son played so sweetly with The Girl and we set a play date for the next time The Boy is off of school so he could have a fellow boy to play with.
I just could not have imagined a better way to spend my Monday. Dear friend, the sweetest kiddos, awesome conversation and a tasty lunch of her awesome lime chicken which I am going to make as soon as possible.
11/1/09
Post Halloween Break-Down
My children have a well documented energy level. I’m sure that if I pooled the combined intellectual capacity of all of my friends that we could surely figure out how to take a small city off the grid just by using the energy these kids generate. But apparently they all have better things to do than do science experiments on my children. Anyway, suffice it to say, they have ALOT of energy.
And this energy typically compounds itself exponentially on and around holidays. At least holidays that involve presents and/or candy. They start bouncing with anticipation about a week or so beforehand and don’t usually stop until at least a month after the holiday has come and gone.
So this morning finds The Girl going back and forth between wearing The Boy’s Clone Trooper costume and her Cinderella dress. Constantly going into the kitchen to make sure that their trick or treat bags, which are overflowing with their candy haul from last night, have not been moved and/or pilfered by anyone. And both of them already talking about what they’re going to be for Halloween next year.
The unfortunate side of this exponential growth of energy is that the more their energy compounds, the less coordination they have. They get so focused on moving that they cease to recognize anything that may lie in the paths. For example, every single year The Boy has gotten so excited when trick or treating that he inevitably trips over a curb or runs across a yard which leads to taking a digger over a lawn ornament. Essentially he somehow injures himself while trick or treating, every single year. So we had a long talk with him before heading out this year about staying with us, not running, setting a good example for his sister, being patient and polite and pretty much everything else we could think of before setting him loose to go trick or treating.
Our mistake? Not having that conversation with The Girl. Because The Boy made it through this Halloween completely unscathed. The Girl however tripped over a curb and ended up with a huge scrape across her forehead. Good thing that candy heals all.
And this energy typically compounds itself exponentially on and around holidays. At least holidays that involve presents and/or candy. They start bouncing with anticipation about a week or so beforehand and don’t usually stop until at least a month after the holiday has come and gone.
So this morning finds The Girl going back and forth between wearing The Boy’s Clone Trooper costume and her Cinderella dress. Constantly going into the kitchen to make sure that their trick or treat bags, which are overflowing with their candy haul from last night, have not been moved and/or pilfered by anyone. And both of them already talking about what they’re going to be for Halloween next year.
The unfortunate side of this exponential growth of energy is that the more their energy compounds, the less coordination they have. They get so focused on moving that they cease to recognize anything that may lie in the paths. For example, every single year The Boy has gotten so excited when trick or treating that he inevitably trips over a curb or runs across a yard which leads to taking a digger over a lawn ornament. Essentially he somehow injures himself while trick or treating, every single year. So we had a long talk with him before heading out this year about staying with us, not running, setting a good example for his sister, being patient and polite and pretty much everything else we could think of before setting him loose to go trick or treating.
Our mistake? Not having that conversation with The Girl. Because The Boy made it through this Halloween completely unscathed. The Girl however tripped over a curb and ended up with a huge scrape across her forehead. Good thing that candy heals all.
10/31/09 - Happy Halloween!
**Again, sorry this is late. I got wrapped up in the Halloween festivities last night and plum forgot to post it.**
The Boy was almost exactly 3 weeks old for his first Halloween. So trying to be practical parents, we didn’t get him a costume. He slept through most of the trick or treaters and pretty much left the whole day unremarked.
For his second Halloween he was a fire fighter. He loved the costume and wore it continuously for several weeks. We were so excited for him to be able to go trick or treating for the first time when all he wanted to do was curl up in his crib and go to sleep in his super comfy, all fleece costume. But we meanly kept him awake long enough to go up and down our street.
For his third Halloween he was a super duper cute and cuddly dragon. Seriously, it was the cutest, softest little dragon costume ever. Candy was well on his radar by this time.
His fourth Halloween, he was Batman. And he was working on the best trick or treating strategies.
His fifth Halloween he was Spider-Man. By this time The Girl was on the scene and he was busy being the best big brother ever by telling her all about what Halloween was for, helping pick out her costume and teaching her all about the best candy. She was about 5 months old and was a ladybug (the cutest frakking ladybug ever if I do say so myself) and had zero interest in anything but everyone fawning all over her and being able to take things out and put them back into her trick or treat bag.
Last year, The Boy was Boba Fett and The Girl was a Plum Fairy (which pretty much means that we found a super cute purple fairy costume that happened to be called a Plum Fairy but we just thought it was a cute costume).
This year, he was a Clone Trooper and Bumblebee (he had a hard time deciding and we had both costumes) and she was Cinderella. The Boy’s pumpkin trick or treat bag has proven to be too small for his 6 year old trick or treating abilities and The Girl discovered the true joy of Halloween – the sugar coma.
The Boy was almost exactly 3 weeks old for his first Halloween. So trying to be practical parents, we didn’t get him a costume. He slept through most of the trick or treaters and pretty much left the whole day unremarked.
For his second Halloween he was a fire fighter. He loved the costume and wore it continuously for several weeks. We were so excited for him to be able to go trick or treating for the first time when all he wanted to do was curl up in his crib and go to sleep in his super comfy, all fleece costume. But we meanly kept him awake long enough to go up and down our street.
For his third Halloween he was a super duper cute and cuddly dragon. Seriously, it was the cutest, softest little dragon costume ever. Candy was well on his radar by this time.
His fourth Halloween, he was Batman. And he was working on the best trick or treating strategies.
His fifth Halloween he was Spider-Man. By this time The Girl was on the scene and he was busy being the best big brother ever by telling her all about what Halloween was for, helping pick out her costume and teaching her all about the best candy. She was about 5 months old and was a ladybug (the cutest frakking ladybug ever if I do say so myself) and had zero interest in anything but everyone fawning all over her and being able to take things out and put them back into her trick or treat bag.
Last year, The Boy was Boba Fett and The Girl was a Plum Fairy (which pretty much means that we found a super cute purple fairy costume that happened to be called a Plum Fairy but we just thought it was a cute costume).
This year, he was a Clone Trooper and Bumblebee (he had a hard time deciding and we had both costumes) and she was Cinderella. The Boy’s pumpkin trick or treat bag has proven to be too small for his 6 year old trick or treating abilities and The Girl discovered the true joy of Halloween – the sugar coma.
10/31/09
10/30/09 - Pre-Halloween
**Sorry this is late!! I got wrapped up in trying to peel my kids off the ceiling last night and forgot to post!**
Today was The Girl’s first picture day at preschool. So I dolled her up in the super cute clothes that Nana Ro sent her at the beginning of the school year from Ralph Lauren and she even let me brush her hair. The Boy was off of school (because I guess the teachers needed yet another planning day after having a week and half off for fall break and parent/teacher conferences) so I drug him along as the preschool had said siblings could get their pictures taken as well if they were around. So The Boy got studded up in his Ralph Lauren finery from Nana Ro as well and off we went. I thought it couldn’t be any worse than going to a photo studio right? Wow. Wrong. Moved as slow as dirt. So my entire morning went out the window, but I think they got some really sweet shots of the kiddos. So that makes it worth it right?
I did manage to get to Target for Halloween candy, so I was able to tick one thing off of my to-do list.
We came home, had some lunch and then I unleashed the kids on the neighborhood with all of their friends while I caught up on some computer stuff. And then a sweet friend emailed to say she had an extra Bumblebee costume lying around unused – oh joy!! So off we went to pick that up.
Our neighbors across the street had shared with me that the local YMCA was doing a big Halloween celebration tonight, so I had been mulling over whether or not subject myself and my husband to that on a Friday night. Once I found out that ALL of the kids’ neighborhood friends were going, we have decided to take them. One of the neighbor moms (who has 5 boys who are so utterly wonderful with my children that I can’t help but adore her) said they were going to feed them dinner and everything, so it’s a killer deal at $3 a kid.
So off we go, to see how hopped up on sugar we can get both of our children before they just shut down completely.
Today was The Girl’s first picture day at preschool. So I dolled her up in the super cute clothes that Nana Ro sent her at the beginning of the school year from Ralph Lauren and she even let me brush her hair. The Boy was off of school (because I guess the teachers needed yet another planning day after having a week and half off for fall break and parent/teacher conferences) so I drug him along as the preschool had said siblings could get their pictures taken as well if they were around. So The Boy got studded up in his Ralph Lauren finery from Nana Ro as well and off we went. I thought it couldn’t be any worse than going to a photo studio right? Wow. Wrong. Moved as slow as dirt. So my entire morning went out the window, but I think they got some really sweet shots of the kiddos. So that makes it worth it right?
I did manage to get to Target for Halloween candy, so I was able to tick one thing off of my to-do list.
We came home, had some lunch and then I unleashed the kids on the neighborhood with all of their friends while I caught up on some computer stuff. And then a sweet friend emailed to say she had an extra Bumblebee costume lying around unused – oh joy!! So off we went to pick that up.
Our neighbors across the street had shared with me that the local YMCA was doing a big Halloween celebration tonight, so I had been mulling over whether or not subject myself and my husband to that on a Friday night. Once I found out that ALL of the kids’ neighborhood friends were going, we have decided to take them. One of the neighbor moms (who has 5 boys who are so utterly wonderful with my children that I can’t help but adore her) said they were going to feed them dinner and everything, so it’s a killer deal at $3 a kid.
So off we go, to see how hopped up on sugar we can get both of our children before they just shut down completely.
10/29/09
Google-tastic
I had a totally irresponsible day of getting absolutely nothing done. I spent a good portion of the day chatting with my college roommate and driving back and forth to The Girl’s preschool. I should have dealt with the massive pile of dishes that’s been sitting on the counter for the last two days. I should have a done a number of things. Well, I guess I did go grocery shopping, which really needed to happen. So I guess that’s one productive thing I managed to do today. But other than that? I got nothing. So I was struggling to decide what to write about and decided to Google it. Yep. That’s right, I just typed in “What should I write about?” And here’s a sampling of what I got:
“The 10 Things You Gotta Know About Choosing a College and 10 Things You Gotta Know About College Application Essays.” Very interesting. I might actually read that one since I never even wrote college application essays. Grad school writing samples? Yes. College essays? Not so much. Them’s the benefits of knowing the Dean of Admissions.
“What kinds of things should I write about? .... Should I still write about what I love or what people want, or both…” Yeah. Been there, done that.
“The Top 25 things you should never write in your blog…” I’m not even going to read any further because I’m sure I’ve done every single one of this person’s 25 things and I’d rather not second guess 10 months of relatively solid writing.
“Write a new couch gag for the opening credits of The Simpsons; Tell me a knock knock joke; Describe yourself in five words” Ok, there’s no way that I could write a new couch gag for The Simpsons – I’m just not that clever and after 16 years on the air, I’m pretty sure that there isn’t anything they haven’t already done or at least thought of. I have two small kids so the only knock, knock jokes I know are really just goofy rambling to the general rhythm of “knock, knock! Who’s there?” And describe myself in five words? How about romantic, sarcastic, lovely, impossible and mother?
“The 10 Things You Gotta Know About Choosing a College and 10 Things You Gotta Know About College Application Essays.” Very interesting. I might actually read that one since I never even wrote college application essays. Grad school writing samples? Yes. College essays? Not so much. Them’s the benefits of knowing the Dean of Admissions.
“What kinds of things should I write about? .... Should I still write about what I love or what people want, or both…” Yeah. Been there, done that.
“The Top 25 things you should never write in your blog…” I’m not even going to read any further because I’m sure I’ve done every single one of this person’s 25 things and I’d rather not second guess 10 months of relatively solid writing.
“Write a new couch gag for the opening credits of The Simpsons; Tell me a knock knock joke; Describe yourself in five words” Ok, there’s no way that I could write a new couch gag for The Simpsons – I’m just not that clever and after 16 years on the air, I’m pretty sure that there isn’t anything they haven’t already done or at least thought of. I have two small kids so the only knock, knock jokes I know are really just goofy rambling to the general rhythm of “knock, knock! Who’s there?” And describe myself in five words? How about romantic, sarcastic, lovely, impossible and mother?
10/28/09
Ramping up the Research
I might like the lead-up to Christmas more than the actual holiday. I love all the research that goes into getting presents for the people I love. I work on the ideas all year long; paying attention to what friends and family mention throughout the year that they’d like to have or need. But it’s this time of year where it kicks into high gear for me.
I have some friends who aren’t happy unless all of their holiday shopping is done by Halloween, Thanksgiving at the latest. And I have an equal number of friends who are still thinking and plotting (and shopping) until the last few days before Christmas. I usually get done before I’m really ready to be done, which usually leads to, ahem, over-spending. So I’ve got the whole thing down to sort of a fine science. Because I have to make sure I’m done shopping and ready to give gifts right before Christmas, or else I’ll keep looking for other stuff and that is a budget breaker right there.
But I’ve started the research for this year already. Starting to formulate ideas and doing the research to decide if those ideas merit further action, i.e. a request to the grandparents or a higher priority on our budgetary list. I keep a running wish list on the Toys R Us website that I continually add to and take away from as the kiddos’ interests ebb and flow. But it’s all the plasticky, everyday sort of toys that they see commercials for or see their friends playing with. Right now for The Boy, that means all things Star Wars and Transformers. For The Girl that means all things Barbie and Disney Princesses.
The other things however are the ones that take the most research. Like trying to find a great gymnastics class that we can afford for The Girl, which I think she would love. And trying to find a club for the boy where gets a new book once a month (do those still exist?).
Christmas is my all-time favorite holiday. All the research leading up to lit up faces on Christmas morning as those I love open the perfect gifts.
I have some friends who aren’t happy unless all of their holiday shopping is done by Halloween, Thanksgiving at the latest. And I have an equal number of friends who are still thinking and plotting (and shopping) until the last few days before Christmas. I usually get done before I’m really ready to be done, which usually leads to, ahem, over-spending. So I’ve got the whole thing down to sort of a fine science. Because I have to make sure I’m done shopping and ready to give gifts right before Christmas, or else I’ll keep looking for other stuff and that is a budget breaker right there.
But I’ve started the research for this year already. Starting to formulate ideas and doing the research to decide if those ideas merit further action, i.e. a request to the grandparents or a higher priority on our budgetary list. I keep a running wish list on the Toys R Us website that I continually add to and take away from as the kiddos’ interests ebb and flow. But it’s all the plasticky, everyday sort of toys that they see commercials for or see their friends playing with. Right now for The Boy, that means all things Star Wars and Transformers. For The Girl that means all things Barbie and Disney Princesses.
The other things however are the ones that take the most research. Like trying to find a great gymnastics class that we can afford for The Girl, which I think she would love. And trying to find a club for the boy where gets a new book once a month (do those still exist?).
Christmas is my all-time favorite holiday. All the research leading up to lit up faces on Christmas morning as those I love open the perfect gifts.
10/27/09
Tales from the Trenches
My husband is an insurance claims adjuster for a huge company and he occasionally brings home stories that he or one of his coworkers has dealt with during the course of their day. He doesn’t do it often because his area of specialty is bodily injury claims from car accidents. And as much as I try to support him and be interested in what he does, I don’t really have any desire to hear about how many people get hurt every single day. And I’ve made this fact abundantly clear over the last 6 years that he’s been doing this. Having a mother who barely survived a car accident has pretty much put me at saturation when it comes to hearing about vehicle accidents of any kind.
But today, he brought home a story from one of his coworkers that works in the property department and it’s a doozy to be sure. Apparently a man caught a burglar in the house and decided to take action instead of hiding in the closet with his cordless phone waiting for the cops to arrive. So he immobilized the intruder with his own gun and kept him at gunpoint face down on the floor. At which point the cops arrived and shot him. Three times. In the back. And then one more time in the leg. They then proceeded to drag him out onto the porch while they handcuffed the, you know, actual criminal. Then they called the paramedics while the homeowner was laying on his own porch bleeding to death. Oh yeah, and his wife and children were watching the whole thing as well.
As he was relating this story to me over dinner tonight, my mouth was hanging open and I kept expecting him to give me the punch line. But it just kept getting worse! I cannot even imagine how angry this entire family must be, let alone the deep betrayal they must feel. But mostly I was thinking how very, very much I hope they sue the hell out of that police department and I hope that the cops who shot this father and husband have to face him every single day in court.
But today, he brought home a story from one of his coworkers that works in the property department and it’s a doozy to be sure. Apparently a man caught a burglar in the house and decided to take action instead of hiding in the closet with his cordless phone waiting for the cops to arrive. So he immobilized the intruder with his own gun and kept him at gunpoint face down on the floor. At which point the cops arrived and shot him. Three times. In the back. And then one more time in the leg. They then proceeded to drag him out onto the porch while they handcuffed the, you know, actual criminal. Then they called the paramedics while the homeowner was laying on his own porch bleeding to death. Oh yeah, and his wife and children were watching the whole thing as well.
As he was relating this story to me over dinner tonight, my mouth was hanging open and I kept expecting him to give me the punch line. But it just kept getting worse! I cannot even imagine how angry this entire family must be, let alone the deep betrayal they must feel. But mostly I was thinking how very, very much I hope they sue the hell out of that police department and I hope that the cops who shot this father and husband have to face him every single day in court.
10/26/09
Blah Dee Blah
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, dee, blah, blah, dee, blah, blah.
Yep, that about sums it up today. Can I just write that over and over and over and get away with it? Well, of course I could, it’s my blog. But that’s hardly fair is it? Fine. I’ll play by my own rules and prattle on about something or another, but I can’t guarantee it will be worth reading. So, here we go…
I think I am in hibernation. The fact that we have $20 to our name until my husband gets paid again on Thursday is just fuel to feed my sloth fire. It makes it easy to not go anywhere so that I don’t use gas or get tempted to spend money we don’t have. But they are just excuses nonetheless I think. I know that I am just continuing to find my footing as I get used to being on a plateau instead of constant drama and trauma. Just decompressing and clearing my head. But right now, it feels like hibernation. I haven’t quite decided yet if that’s a good thing or not.
On a totally unrelated tangent, I have a question for you: why do canned soups always taste so crappy? They’re almost gelatinous in their texture and too salty and just overly gross. What’s up with that? I mean I grew up on mostly canned soup and never minded it before. But I sat down to an nice, hot bowl of chicken noodle soup today and barely made my way through half of it before I was gagging. Blech…
And (follow me on one more jump here) this new season of Heroes is the best it’s been since the first season. There’s a bit of intrigue again, Silar is back to being interesting instead of just a goofy sociopath, Peter is back to being hot instead of whiny and I actually want to see what happens next week. All steps in the right direction.
It’s Halloween week and the kids talk about it every single day. The Girl is begging to wear her Cinderella dress every day and The Boy is totally stoked on the prospect of candy. Hhhhmmmm…candy…
Yep, that about sums it up today. Can I just write that over and over and over and get away with it? Well, of course I could, it’s my blog. But that’s hardly fair is it? Fine. I’ll play by my own rules and prattle on about something or another, but I can’t guarantee it will be worth reading. So, here we go…
I think I am in hibernation. The fact that we have $20 to our name until my husband gets paid again on Thursday is just fuel to feed my sloth fire. It makes it easy to not go anywhere so that I don’t use gas or get tempted to spend money we don’t have. But they are just excuses nonetheless I think. I know that I am just continuing to find my footing as I get used to being on a plateau instead of constant drama and trauma. Just decompressing and clearing my head. But right now, it feels like hibernation. I haven’t quite decided yet if that’s a good thing or not.
On a totally unrelated tangent, I have a question for you: why do canned soups always taste so crappy? They’re almost gelatinous in their texture and too salty and just overly gross. What’s up with that? I mean I grew up on mostly canned soup and never minded it before. But I sat down to an nice, hot bowl of chicken noodle soup today and barely made my way through half of it before I was gagging. Blech…
And (follow me on one more jump here) this new season of Heroes is the best it’s been since the first season. There’s a bit of intrigue again, Silar is back to being interesting instead of just a goofy sociopath, Peter is back to being hot instead of whiny and I actually want to see what happens next week. All steps in the right direction.
It’s Halloween week and the kids talk about it every single day. The Girl is begging to wear her Cinderella dress every day and The Boy is totally stoked on the prospect of candy. Hhhhmmmm…candy…
10/25/09
Sunday Outlook
Good news for the day? The Boy hasn’t thrown up for about 12 hours and it appears that his fever may have broken.
Bad news for the day? Since he’s feeling better, I have to actually get off the couch and do something productive, like clean my horrendously messy house or, you know, shower.
My husband has already gotten a jump on laundry (bless his heart) but I really should at least dust and vacuum today. With all the wetness we’ve had as of late, the kitchen floor is covered in muddy paw prints both large and small (not to mention the small animals made up of St. Bernard hair that drift from place to place as they ride the currents generated by passersby). And there is an embarrassing amount of dust everywhere because this is the first weekend I’ve felt like doing anything but being put out of my misery for at least two weeks. Not to mention that I am now a month behind on thank you notes from The Boy’s birthday party, ahem.
(Aside: the trailers for The Men Who Stare at Goats make me giggle ridiculously as well as bounce like a school girl at the thought of George Clooney, Ewan McGregor and Kevin Spacey all being in the same movie together.)
There is also a killer football game on today – Vikings at the Steelers. I adore the Steelers. And even though Brett Favre’s off season personality disorder grates on my nerves a bit, he’s having one of the best seasons in a long, long time. And it’s been fun to watch him play again. So this is a hard one for me, but I think I’m going to root for the Steelers while simultaneously being happy when the Vikings have pretty plays. Seems like a good middle road on which to travel given that my Colts are playing the silly Rams today and the game is not being televised. (ARRRGGGHHH, stupid refs throwing flags on innocent rubs, which takes away a touchdown that then leads to Big Ben getting sacked on the next play.) I’m also hoping for a fantasy football redemption today, aka a big fat win thank you.
Bad news for the day? Since he’s feeling better, I have to actually get off the couch and do something productive, like clean my horrendously messy house or, you know, shower.
My husband has already gotten a jump on laundry (bless his heart) but I really should at least dust and vacuum today. With all the wetness we’ve had as of late, the kitchen floor is covered in muddy paw prints both large and small (not to mention the small animals made up of St. Bernard hair that drift from place to place as they ride the currents generated by passersby). And there is an embarrassing amount of dust everywhere because this is the first weekend I’ve felt like doing anything but being put out of my misery for at least two weeks. Not to mention that I am now a month behind on thank you notes from The Boy’s birthday party, ahem.
(Aside: the trailers for The Men Who Stare at Goats make me giggle ridiculously as well as bounce like a school girl at the thought of George Clooney, Ewan McGregor and Kevin Spacey all being in the same movie together.)
There is also a killer football game on today – Vikings at the Steelers. I adore the Steelers. And even though Brett Favre’s off season personality disorder grates on my nerves a bit, he’s having one of the best seasons in a long, long time. And it’s been fun to watch him play again. So this is a hard one for me, but I think I’m going to root for the Steelers while simultaneously being happy when the Vikings have pretty plays. Seems like a good middle road on which to travel given that my Colts are playing the silly Rams today and the game is not being televised. (ARRRGGGHHH, stupid refs throwing flags on innocent rubs, which takes away a touchdown that then leads to Big Ben getting sacked on the next play.) I’m also hoping for a fantasy football redemption today, aka a big fat win thank you.
10/24/09 - Sick Boy
Wanna know the absolute loveliest way to be woken up on a Saturday morning before the sun is up? Listening to The Boy vomit. It was such a perfect, and gentle, way to start the day.
I shouldn’t complain too much because my husband actually got up with him and let me sleep a bit longer. But still. Knowing before you’ve fully extricated yourself from your chosen dream world that your day will be spent tending to a sick boy, is not the best way to start your weekend. And other than feeling really badly for The Boy who couldn’t even keep down water for most of the day, the day was not actually so bad. We decided to let him watch Transformers and Spider-man (two movies he had never been allowed watch) and he and I spent the day on the couch drifting in and out of nap mode interspersed by him running to the bathroom. And I must say that having a vomiting child actually gets easier as they get older because they recognize the signs and can make it to the bathroom instead of throwing up where they stand or sit.
The other huge difference, for me at least, with older kiddos who get sick is that my worry level goes way down. Especially with The Boy. He hasn’t met a sickness yet that he hasn’t bested. The worst he ever had was probably a massive viral ear infection he got as a toddler for which we went through 3 rounds of antibiotics before the docs deduced that it was viral and it lingered for more than a month. But even then, he didn’t let it keep him down. He is just such an extraordinarily upbeat kid that it takes an awful lot (or being extraordinarily tired) to make him whiny or to take away his smile.
And I never get to cuddle with Boy anymore. So although I would never wish one of my children to be sick, it was an opportunity to steal back a few moments of snuggle time with my sweet boy who is getting so very, very big and gradually needing me just a little bit less.
I shouldn’t complain too much because my husband actually got up with him and let me sleep a bit longer. But still. Knowing before you’ve fully extricated yourself from your chosen dream world that your day will be spent tending to a sick boy, is not the best way to start your weekend. And other than feeling really badly for The Boy who couldn’t even keep down water for most of the day, the day was not actually so bad. We decided to let him watch Transformers and Spider-man (two movies he had never been allowed watch) and he and I spent the day on the couch drifting in and out of nap mode interspersed by him running to the bathroom. And I must say that having a vomiting child actually gets easier as they get older because they recognize the signs and can make it to the bathroom instead of throwing up where they stand or sit.
The other huge difference, for me at least, with older kiddos who get sick is that my worry level goes way down. Especially with The Boy. He hasn’t met a sickness yet that he hasn’t bested. The worst he ever had was probably a massive viral ear infection he got as a toddler for which we went through 3 rounds of antibiotics before the docs deduced that it was viral and it lingered for more than a month. But even then, he didn’t let it keep him down. He is just such an extraordinarily upbeat kid that it takes an awful lot (or being extraordinarily tired) to make him whiny or to take away his smile.
And I never get to cuddle with Boy anymore. So although I would never wish one of my children to be sick, it was an opportunity to steal back a few moments of snuggle time with my sweet boy who is getting so very, very big and gradually needing me just a little bit less.
10/23/09
P/T Conferences and the PTA
We had our first parent/teacher conference for The Boy today. And he is doing fantastic. I am so thrilled with his progress. And I wish you could’ve seen him sitting there, beaming with pride as his teacher went through his portfolio and asked him to explain different projects he had been working on. What they meant, why he chose to draw what he chose. They even did a self evaluation and his almost perfectly matched his teacher’s evaluation of him. Pretty cool when you think about it. Because it means that not only is he looking at himself realistically, but also that he has the confidence built already to be able to know when he’s doing well and being successful. And you can’t beat that with a stick. I mean the boy is 6 and he already has a clearer, more confident view of himself than most adults I know. I’m so proud of him I could burst. Can you tell?
His school is going through some pretty radical administrative changes. I’m pretty positive that they won’t affect his classroom experience, but I’m glad that the school is getting out from underneath a really toxic administrative tie. It will free the people who actually make the school a success to continue all of the good work they’ve started.
It also has me thinking about getting more involved. I’m actually thinking about joining the PTA, although my limited experience with PTA’s has me fairly soured on the whole prospect, perhaps I could do some good. And I’m thinking about getting involved with the school board now that it’s up and running; volunteering my experience and talents in the fundraising realm to jump start a fundraising committee. With the established administrative ties being broken and the school “going out on its own” as an independent charter school, the state mandated funding will still be in place, but they will surely need to fan the flames of supplementary fundraising and with a quickness.
I love this school. I love what it is doing for my son. So if I can figure out a way to give back, even in the smallest of ways, I’m up for the challenge.
His school is going through some pretty radical administrative changes. I’m pretty positive that they won’t affect his classroom experience, but I’m glad that the school is getting out from underneath a really toxic administrative tie. It will free the people who actually make the school a success to continue all of the good work they’ve started.
It also has me thinking about getting more involved. I’m actually thinking about joining the PTA, although my limited experience with PTA’s has me fairly soured on the whole prospect, perhaps I could do some good. And I’m thinking about getting involved with the school board now that it’s up and running; volunteering my experience and talents in the fundraising realm to jump start a fundraising committee. With the established administrative ties being broken and the school “going out on its own” as an independent charter school, the state mandated funding will still be in place, but they will surely need to fan the flames of supplementary fundraising and with a quickness.
I love this school. I love what it is doing for my son. So if I can figure out a way to give back, even in the smallest of ways, I’m up for the challenge.
10/22/09
The Symptoms of Brain Death
I am exhausted. And apparently also brain dead. Because I’ve sat down to write at least a dozen times today and I’ve come up with nothing. So you’re all going to be graced with my powers of stream of consciousness writing today because I got nothing else at the moment. Feel free to stop reading and just come back tomorrow. I wouldn’t blame you really. (How I know when I’m really brain dead? When I’m writing my blog posts and have to stop myself from putting little smileys or winking smileys at the end of my sentences. That’s just bad.)
I got to have coffee with my dearest L this morning. I don’t get to hang out with her nearly as much as I’d like so I always savor the coffee dates we try to pull off every few weeks or so. She gets me on a level that only a handful of girl friends ever have so it’s always a gift to share space with her (plus we went to this super cool little coffee house around the corner from the preschool our little girls go to and the barista drew a pumpkin in the foam of my latte, how cool is that?!?).
Thursday nights are my chick show nights. I don’t even see my husband for the most part of Thursday nights. It’s Grey’s Anatomy and Private Practice and Project Runway. Shows that I’ve watched since their inception. And the newcomer this year, which I am totally embarrassed to admit to watching but I’ve already copped to Dawson’s Creek so why not, The Vampire Diaries. It’s teenage angst ridden drivel, but what can I say, I’m a sucker (pun unintended). So I am curled up on the couch under blankies, wishing my sore throat away, hoping that I wake up in the morning feeling just a little bit better than I do today.
We have The Boy’s first real parent/teach conference tomorrow morning. I’m excited for the chance to talk to his teacher and really see how he’s doing in her opinion. Because in my opinion he’s doing great. He’s doing over the top fantastic and he’s also growing up entirely too fast.
I got to have coffee with my dearest L this morning. I don’t get to hang out with her nearly as much as I’d like so I always savor the coffee dates we try to pull off every few weeks or so. She gets me on a level that only a handful of girl friends ever have so it’s always a gift to share space with her (plus we went to this super cool little coffee house around the corner from the preschool our little girls go to and the barista drew a pumpkin in the foam of my latte, how cool is that?!?).
Thursday nights are my chick show nights. I don’t even see my husband for the most part of Thursday nights. It’s Grey’s Anatomy and Private Practice and Project Runway. Shows that I’ve watched since their inception. And the newcomer this year, which I am totally embarrassed to admit to watching but I’ve already copped to Dawson’s Creek so why not, The Vampire Diaries. It’s teenage angst ridden drivel, but what can I say, I’m a sucker (pun unintended). So I am curled up on the couch under blankies, wishing my sore throat away, hoping that I wake up in the morning feeling just a little bit better than I do today.
We have The Boy’s first real parent/teach conference tomorrow morning. I’m excited for the chance to talk to his teacher and really see how he’s doing in her opinion. Because in my opinion he’s doing great. He’s doing over the top fantastic and he’s also growing up entirely too fast.
10/21/09
Then and Now
When I was growing up I watched benign shows like Sesame Street, 321 Contact, Richie Rich, The Electric Company, Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, Looney Toons, Tom and Jerry and Scooby Doo. My TV time was populated with Muppets and overly enthusiastic adults, maniacally instinct driven cartoon characters of the rodent and feline persuasion and harmless frivolity.
Today however there are The Doodlebops who have rubber wigs and engage in very strange activities which start with one orange hair person compulsively having to pull a rope which douses him in water before he can start his day. There is Max and Ruby where two young bunnies apparently have no parents and free reign in the house at all times. There is Yo Gabba Gabba where fully costumed blobs get funky with different musical stars and actors; it’s like old school Sesame Street only with aliens in the place of Muppets and a strange guy in a big, orange, fuzzy pope’s hat in the place of Gordon and Maria. Then, of course, there are the updated versions of Scooby Doo and all of the superheroes (most of those I actually like better now than I did then).
Not to mention the changes that my beloved Sesame Street has undergone. Cookie Monster eating carrot sticks instead of anything even remotely resembling the shape or appearance of a cookie, Kermit being replaced by an annoying little red midget of a Muppet and the overall feeling of the show shifting from cultivating a kinder, gentler kiddo to political correctness dialed into cutting edge child psychology.
Not to say that they’re all strange in a bad way. The Girl loves The Backyardigans, which admittedly it took me a while to warm up to, but I now love. It’s clever, funny and well written even for preschoolers and who doesn’t like to watch four good natured cartoon characters rap to polka music? And we have always liked Ben 10 and The Clone Wars.
It all makes me wonder what my parents really thought of the shows I watched as a kid. I wonder if they shook their heads and rolled their eyes or whether they secretly tuned in as avidly as I did.
Today however there are The Doodlebops who have rubber wigs and engage in very strange activities which start with one orange hair person compulsively having to pull a rope which douses him in water before he can start his day. There is Max and Ruby where two young bunnies apparently have no parents and free reign in the house at all times. There is Yo Gabba Gabba where fully costumed blobs get funky with different musical stars and actors; it’s like old school Sesame Street only with aliens in the place of Muppets and a strange guy in a big, orange, fuzzy pope’s hat in the place of Gordon and Maria. Then, of course, there are the updated versions of Scooby Doo and all of the superheroes (most of those I actually like better now than I did then).
Not to mention the changes that my beloved Sesame Street has undergone. Cookie Monster eating carrot sticks instead of anything even remotely resembling the shape or appearance of a cookie, Kermit being replaced by an annoying little red midget of a Muppet and the overall feeling of the show shifting from cultivating a kinder, gentler kiddo to political correctness dialed into cutting edge child psychology.
Not to say that they’re all strange in a bad way. The Girl loves The Backyardigans, which admittedly it took me a while to warm up to, but I now love. It’s clever, funny and well written even for preschoolers and who doesn’t like to watch four good natured cartoon characters rap to polka music? And we have always liked Ben 10 and The Clone Wars.
It all makes me wonder what my parents really thought of the shows I watched as a kid. I wonder if they shook their heads and rolled their eyes or whether they secretly tuned in as avidly as I did.
10/20/09
Proof of Power
Becoming a mother was a top to bottom change of state for me. Pretty much everything I thought was true changed the moment I got knocked up. Most of it for the better, some of it I lost myself to, and although the road back has been long I’m still not sure it wasn’t worth it.
Even on my most frustrated, at the end of my rope, want to duct tape the children’s mouths shut and put them in the closet days, being a mother resonates in a very deep part of my soul. Even when I’m not at all sure that my mothering techniques are up to snuff, I always have complete confidence in being a mother.
But one of the most tangible parts of becoming a mother for me has been getting comfortable in my own skin again. I have always been at war with my body image. Even when I was thin and healthy and gorgeous, I just couldn’t see myself very clearly. Since the stretch marks have marathoned across the length of my stomach and my hips (and feet) have widened and my boobs have gravitated towards my belly button in an attempt to commune with the depths that reside there, I’ve mostly just tried to ignore my body image. And my body. It serves its purpose well and I’m grateful for that, but I’d rather just pretend that I’m always wearing an invisibility cloak.
The journey undertaken this past year however has brought some much needed perspective when it comes to my appearance (thanks to the Mojo Boots for bringing me back my sass). And even though it makes me sick (in the best possible way) when all of my friends look as if they’ve never been pregnant 2.7 minutes after birthing their children, there is a part of me that has become deeply grateful for the fact that there is physical evidence of having my two babies.
I’d gladly trade my jeans for a new pair a few sizes smaller any day of the week, but I wouldn’t ever hand over the tangible corroboration of what my body is capable of. That’s empowerment that Mojo Boots just can’t touch.
Even on my most frustrated, at the end of my rope, want to duct tape the children’s mouths shut and put them in the closet days, being a mother resonates in a very deep part of my soul. Even when I’m not at all sure that my mothering techniques are up to snuff, I always have complete confidence in being a mother.
But one of the most tangible parts of becoming a mother for me has been getting comfortable in my own skin again. I have always been at war with my body image. Even when I was thin and healthy and gorgeous, I just couldn’t see myself very clearly. Since the stretch marks have marathoned across the length of my stomach and my hips (and feet) have widened and my boobs have gravitated towards my belly button in an attempt to commune with the depths that reside there, I’ve mostly just tried to ignore my body image. And my body. It serves its purpose well and I’m grateful for that, but I’d rather just pretend that I’m always wearing an invisibility cloak.
The journey undertaken this past year however has brought some much needed perspective when it comes to my appearance (thanks to the Mojo Boots for bringing me back my sass). And even though it makes me sick (in the best possible way) when all of my friends look as if they’ve never been pregnant 2.7 minutes after birthing their children, there is a part of me that has become deeply grateful for the fact that there is physical evidence of having my two babies.
I’d gladly trade my jeans for a new pair a few sizes smaller any day of the week, but I wouldn’t ever hand over the tangible corroboration of what my body is capable of. That’s empowerment that Mojo Boots just can’t touch.
10/19/09
Just a Mom
I read a piece today in a newly discovered magazine – Get Born – that really spoke to where I am right now. The author was writing about how embarrassed she was to admit that she is “just a mom.” Knowing full well that under that embarrassment was indignation at forcing herself to add the “just” in there. And I am so there.
I started my own business when The Boy was born so I could work from home. A year ago I decided to go back to work full-time (i.e. steady paycheck instead of unsteady contract work) in the face of our disintegrating financial situation and I’ve thoroughly documented my journey towards that end. It’s just become abundantly clear to me that the universe wants me right where I am for some reason or another. Here, present, with my children and family as my first priority. Out of nonprofit and away from fundraising. And for the first time since becoming a mother I have to now say that I am a stay at home mom. And there is a large part of me that feels utterly defeated in that statement.
I vividly remember wishing that I could just take the time to focus on my kids when I was working. I remember wishing for the client juggling to stop and the deadlines to ease. I just wanted the time to paint and frolic and be with these children who were growing so fast. And now I have it. And for that I’m completely grateful.
But that over-achiever in me that lurks just under the surface has its hackles raised at the idea of “just” being a stay at home mom. And even though the number of stay at home moms that I have in my life far outweigh the number of working mothers, I still feel like I’m letting my friends down. From what no one knows, but the feeling is there nonetheless.
I can rattle off hundreds of things that I do in a day or week or month. Important, necessary, even vital things that I do to keep my family humming along. How much longer can I justify devaluing my work in this family?
I started my own business when The Boy was born so I could work from home. A year ago I decided to go back to work full-time (i.e. steady paycheck instead of unsteady contract work) in the face of our disintegrating financial situation and I’ve thoroughly documented my journey towards that end. It’s just become abundantly clear to me that the universe wants me right where I am for some reason or another. Here, present, with my children and family as my first priority. Out of nonprofit and away from fundraising. And for the first time since becoming a mother I have to now say that I am a stay at home mom. And there is a large part of me that feels utterly defeated in that statement.
I vividly remember wishing that I could just take the time to focus on my kids when I was working. I remember wishing for the client juggling to stop and the deadlines to ease. I just wanted the time to paint and frolic and be with these children who were growing so fast. And now I have it. And for that I’m completely grateful.
But that over-achiever in me that lurks just under the surface has its hackles raised at the idea of “just” being a stay at home mom. And even though the number of stay at home moms that I have in my life far outweigh the number of working mothers, I still feel like I’m letting my friends down. From what no one knows, but the feeling is there nonetheless.
I can rattle off hundreds of things that I do in a day or week or month. Important, necessary, even vital things that I do to keep my family humming along. How much longer can I justify devaluing my work in this family?
10/18/09
Utterly Irrational
I have a totally irrational hatred of Tom Brady. The man just brings out the worst in me. I cannot bring myself to think positive thoughts about him regardless of how nice he is or how well he plays the game of football. I mean I am sitting here watching him literally have a record breaking game where he just threw 5 touchdowns in one quarter. Not one half, not in the whole game, in one freaking quarter. And I cannot bring myself to be even mildly amused by this. I find myself screwing up my face and sticking out my tongue at the TV.
Keep in mind that I still feel this way about Tom Brady knowing that I have nothing to lose in my fantasy matchup this week with him. I can’t even explain it away that way. One would think I’d have the same kind of wrath towards Drew Brees at least for this week after watching him have yet another game of his life annihilating the Giants as I watched him rack up points for my opponent. It’s painful to lose like this granted, but Drew Brees is a good comeback kid kind of guy so even though he single handedly assured my loss this week, I still kinda like the guy.
Every time I see Tom Brady’s stupid name in the headlines I cuss him out under my breath. It makes me crazy that his pretty face married a supermodel. Even his sweet baby irks me. It’s totally irrational. To the point where I have never even had a Patriot player on any of my fantasy teams. I just don’t want any association with him (although I’m about to break that rule by picking up Maroney as a possible workhorse running back).
The only thing I can come up with to even come close to explaining it is that it’s all just so cliché. He’s the star quarterback pretty boy who always gets the job done and always gets the girl. He’s “humble” and easy going. He’s charming and professional and oh so focused. And it’s always a given that he’ll win.
He may as well be a cardboard cutout.
Keep in mind that I still feel this way about Tom Brady knowing that I have nothing to lose in my fantasy matchup this week with him. I can’t even explain it away that way. One would think I’d have the same kind of wrath towards Drew Brees at least for this week after watching him have yet another game of his life annihilating the Giants as I watched him rack up points for my opponent. It’s painful to lose like this granted, but Drew Brees is a good comeback kid kind of guy so even though he single handedly assured my loss this week, I still kinda like the guy.
Every time I see Tom Brady’s stupid name in the headlines I cuss him out under my breath. It makes me crazy that his pretty face married a supermodel. Even his sweet baby irks me. It’s totally irrational. To the point where I have never even had a Patriot player on any of my fantasy teams. I just don’t want any association with him (although I’m about to break that rule by picking up Maroney as a possible workhorse running back).
The only thing I can come up with to even come close to explaining it is that it’s all just so cliché. He’s the star quarterback pretty boy who always gets the job done and always gets the girl. He’s “humble” and easy going. He’s charming and professional and oh so focused. And it’s always a given that he’ll win.
He may as well be a cardboard cutout.
10/17/09 - Jumping through Hoops
Here’s the most irritating thing about filing for bankruptcy (other than having to give a lawyer a big pile of money to have it legally, and publically, recorded that we don’t have any money) – having to take the pre and post-filing classes that are required by federal law. We have had to go through several companies that offer these classes for an assortment of fees (yet again having to spend more money to prove that we don’t have any money) and figure out which one will not only be the cheapest, but also the most expedient. Because we can’t legally file with the courts until we get the pre-filing credit counseling course taken and the completion certificate sent to our lawyer so he can include it in the final petition.
Now, let me be clear in that I really, truly understand why these classes are required. No one wants people to use bankruptcy as a way of hiding from a huge pile of debt that they got into on purpose. And no one wants someone to file for bankruptcy without having explored every single available option. It really is a last resort sort of thing. So making these courses mandatory gives people two more hoops to jump through as well as making sure they are educated on the process and its ramifications. I totally get that. Having said that however, they are a presently a gigantic pain in my ass.
Especially this first class because it’s a two parter. We each have to take the online course which I’m guessing will take about an hour or so and then we have to schedule a phone counseling follow up call to help establish a budget which will probably take another hour or so. I know that 2 hours sounds pretty inconsequential. But it’s really not. Especially since it’s computer and phone time where I have to, you know, pay attention. Show me a mother who time for this.
And the part of me that has painful clarity on why we are in this process resents the fact that I am forced to pay someone to tell me this is a bad place in which to be.
Now, let me be clear in that I really, truly understand why these classes are required. No one wants people to use bankruptcy as a way of hiding from a huge pile of debt that they got into on purpose. And no one wants someone to file for bankruptcy without having explored every single available option. It really is a last resort sort of thing. So making these courses mandatory gives people two more hoops to jump through as well as making sure they are educated on the process and its ramifications. I totally get that. Having said that however, they are a presently a gigantic pain in my ass.
Especially this first class because it’s a two parter. We each have to take the online course which I’m guessing will take about an hour or so and then we have to schedule a phone counseling follow up call to help establish a budget which will probably take another hour or so. I know that 2 hours sounds pretty inconsequential. But it’s really not. Especially since it’s computer and phone time where I have to, you know, pay attention. Show me a mother who time for this.
And the part of me that has painful clarity on why we are in this process resents the fact that I am forced to pay someone to tell me this is a bad place in which to be.
10/16/09
Western Union
“In a few minutes your love can be tangible.” – Western Union slogan
This particular slogan makes me irrationally angry. Maybe because I was pretty much raised in a time when wiring money has gone completely out of fashion except in the movies where the only people who wire money are felons and white trash kids stuck in some hickville trailer park without a clean wife beater. It makes me think of men with huge pot bellies sending money to their old ladies who are standing in their curlers, hair nets and polyester muumuus. It makes me think of dirty out of the way offices that you have to search out in the seedier parts of town.
It pretty much makes me think of anything but love.
And maybe that is what the slogan is trying to change. Trying to shift the point of view back to a quick way to send your oldest son money across country because he blew a tire on his spring break road trip. Because I think most Western Union offices are probably in well lit grocery stores nowadays.
But it also speaks to the part of me that is just flat royally pissed off that we’re in the financial state we’re in. Because to tell me that THE way to make my love tangible is to send money to family and friends just makes me want to scream since it’s just about the only thing I can’t presently send them. I can send virtual hugs and all of the positive vibes and thoughts I can muster. I can send cards and emails and Facebook love notes. I can think of all kinds of funny, silly, creative ways to “make my love tangible” should I ever feel the need, but sending money is really not one of them (not that I wouldn’t love to receive that kind of token of all of your love).
Also on some philosophical level it makes me irate that I should ever have to make my love tangible. I mean who really wants their loved ones to nail down how very much they are loved into a hot pink teddy bear or a bouquet of flowers?
This particular slogan makes me irrationally angry. Maybe because I was pretty much raised in a time when wiring money has gone completely out of fashion except in the movies where the only people who wire money are felons and white trash kids stuck in some hickville trailer park without a clean wife beater. It makes me think of men with huge pot bellies sending money to their old ladies who are standing in their curlers, hair nets and polyester muumuus. It makes me think of dirty out of the way offices that you have to search out in the seedier parts of town.
It pretty much makes me think of anything but love.
And maybe that is what the slogan is trying to change. Trying to shift the point of view back to a quick way to send your oldest son money across country because he blew a tire on his spring break road trip. Because I think most Western Union offices are probably in well lit grocery stores nowadays.
But it also speaks to the part of me that is just flat royally pissed off that we’re in the financial state we’re in. Because to tell me that THE way to make my love tangible is to send money to family and friends just makes me want to scream since it’s just about the only thing I can’t presently send them. I can send virtual hugs and all of the positive vibes and thoughts I can muster. I can send cards and emails and Facebook love notes. I can think of all kinds of funny, silly, creative ways to “make my love tangible” should I ever feel the need, but sending money is really not one of them (not that I wouldn’t love to receive that kind of token of all of your love).
Also on some philosophical level it makes me irate that I should ever have to make my love tangible. I mean who really wants their loved ones to nail down how very much they are loved into a hot pink teddy bear or a bouquet of flowers?
10/15/09
Peaceful Temper Tantrum
I have now been sitting here staring at a blank page for more than an hour. It has been one of those totally mellow days where I’m trying to soak in the peace and quiet in an effort to banish the sickness and re-charge my soul. I’ve managed to dispel the usual guilt that accompanies me taking time for myself, which in and of itself is a huge stretch. Basically I just decided to take this week and really give myself permission to do whatever I needed to do at any given time.
Since I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by this plague that was brought home to share, I knew I wouldn’t really make any plans other than just staying home and taking it easy. Which was fine. I had a couple of books I wanted some quality time with and I was looking forward to the opportunity to just watch movies all day long.
And I was well on my way to accomplishing all of these things. But tonight I’m feeling all temper tantrum-y and like I have to justify how I’m spending my week off. All of the guilt and judgment I’ve been shooing away all week rushed back into the room all at once. And that pisses me off. Should I have used the time to clean and organize and get stuff done? Probably. Should I have made some special plans to get together with friends I don’t get to see often enough? Probably. Should I have put more effort into going down to my parents’ house to spend time with them and the kiddos? Probably. But I just flat didn’t want to. I haven’t been feeling good. And I am just tired to the core. I just needed a true break this week to recharge and shift perspective.
My year thus far has been trauma followed by drama followed by catastrophe, rinse and repeat. And it feels like we may be slowly climbing up onto a plateau where we can ride out the rest of 2009 in peace and quiet. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that and I thought I’d start with my own inner peace and quiet.
Since I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by this plague that was brought home to share, I knew I wouldn’t really make any plans other than just staying home and taking it easy. Which was fine. I had a couple of books I wanted some quality time with and I was looking forward to the opportunity to just watch movies all day long.
And I was well on my way to accomplishing all of these things. But tonight I’m feeling all temper tantrum-y and like I have to justify how I’m spending my week off. All of the guilt and judgment I’ve been shooing away all week rushed back into the room all at once. And that pisses me off. Should I have used the time to clean and organize and get stuff done? Probably. Should I have made some special plans to get together with friends I don’t get to see often enough? Probably. Should I have put more effort into going down to my parents’ house to spend time with them and the kiddos? Probably. But I just flat didn’t want to. I haven’t been feeling good. And I am just tired to the core. I just needed a true break this week to recharge and shift perspective.
My year thus far has been trauma followed by drama followed by catastrophe, rinse and repeat. And it feels like we may be slowly climbing up onto a plateau where we can ride out the rest of 2009 in peace and quiet. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that and I thought I’d start with my own inner peace and quiet.
10/14/09
Liking what I Like
The people in my life are extraordinary. Some are extraordinary writers; some are extraordinary artists and/or actors. Some are extraordinarily compassionate and open-hearted. Every single one of them is an extraordinary thinker in one way or another. And I’ve spent most of my life just trying to keep up with them.
I’ve spent time trying to keep up with them by rebelling against them of course. By rejecting their favorite authors or directors, artists or schools of thought. Thinking perhaps that if I could shoot down these chosen masters that perhaps even though we disagreed I’d still be at their level.
I’ve also spent time devoting myself to being an utter cultural snob. Only choosing the artsy movies, the indie bands, the out of mainstream books, the underground thinkers. Attempting to elevate myself above the common trends by only exposing myself to the best.
Over the years however I’ve pretty much just accepted that most of the people around me are just flat smarter than I am. And that’s totally cool. I mean first of all, they choose to hang out with me even though they’re smarter and they constantly challenge me and I think that rocks. But I’ve also had to strike a kind of balance between the challenge and just what I like.
And much to their dismay, I really like things like Dan Brown’s books, beat ‘em up blow ‘em up movies, Dawson’s Creek, tomato beers and queso dip made with Velveeta. I could totally overanalyze myself and trace back their etymology to some childhood event or how they may be tied to a very special memory thereby forever tying them to my internal list of favorites. But at the end of the day, I just like what I like. And I’m cool with that. I don’t really care anymore that I look at a piece of modern art and think that The Boy could do it better. I don’t mind when friends laugh at me for getting emotionally invested with teenage TV characters embroiled in overwrought angst.
They love me anyway and that’s just how I roll. I’ll take their challenge any day just as soon as I’m done watching X-Men.
I’ve spent time trying to keep up with them by rebelling against them of course. By rejecting their favorite authors or directors, artists or schools of thought. Thinking perhaps that if I could shoot down these chosen masters that perhaps even though we disagreed I’d still be at their level.
I’ve also spent time devoting myself to being an utter cultural snob. Only choosing the artsy movies, the indie bands, the out of mainstream books, the underground thinkers. Attempting to elevate myself above the common trends by only exposing myself to the best.
Over the years however I’ve pretty much just accepted that most of the people around me are just flat smarter than I am. And that’s totally cool. I mean first of all, they choose to hang out with me even though they’re smarter and they constantly challenge me and I think that rocks. But I’ve also had to strike a kind of balance between the challenge and just what I like.
And much to their dismay, I really like things like Dan Brown’s books, beat ‘em up blow ‘em up movies, Dawson’s Creek, tomato beers and queso dip made with Velveeta. I could totally overanalyze myself and trace back their etymology to some childhood event or how they may be tied to a very special memory thereby forever tying them to my internal list of favorites. But at the end of the day, I just like what I like. And I’m cool with that. I don’t really care anymore that I look at a piece of modern art and think that The Boy could do it better. I don’t mind when friends laugh at me for getting emotionally invested with teenage TV characters embroiled in overwrought angst.
They love me anyway and that’s just how I roll. I’ll take their challenge any day just as soon as I’m done watching X-Men.
10/13/09
Dan Brown in a Day
Man do I love Dan Brown. He has a new book out that is the next story in the Robert Langdon saga. And I gotta say that this character must have some serious karma to repay. He must have hit some sort of karmic wall that triggered an immediate repayment order. He went through his whole life without much happening to him and then all of a sudden every couple of years he gets involved in the middle of some maniac’s plan to prove some mystical artifact as fact in an effort to change all of humanity for better or for worse. Robert Langdon seriously keeps getting the shit end of the stick man and he totally deserves an extended vacation to one of those super fancy resorts in Fiji where you get your own private hut out in the middle of the ocean where the floor is made of glass and you can spend hours watching fish swim underfoot while you sip a fancy umbrella drink.
But even though I feel for the guy, it makes for some awesome brain candy reading. I started this book about an hour before I went to bed last night and am almost finished with it tonight.
This book really takes you into a much more mystical realm than his previous two. I mean they all deal with legends rooted in mysticism and religion but this one takes that to a whole different level. And while it is an enthralling story, it feels a bit rushed. Both Angels and Demons and The DaVinci Code were just as informational as they were engaging and this one feels like it skips a lot of those opportunities to teach for just moving forward. Which makes me a little sad because those insights into ancient symbology and history were some of my favorite parts of his writing. I’m a total sucker for a conspiracy theory that has just enough evidence behind it to make you wonder. And he brings those in spades with his storytelling.
But his books always make me wish I read more slowly. So I could savor them a bit more instead of plowing through them in a day.
But even though I feel for the guy, it makes for some awesome brain candy reading. I started this book about an hour before I went to bed last night and am almost finished with it tonight.
This book really takes you into a much more mystical realm than his previous two. I mean they all deal with legends rooted in mysticism and religion but this one takes that to a whole different level. And while it is an enthralling story, it feels a bit rushed. Both Angels and Demons and The DaVinci Code were just as informational as they were engaging and this one feels like it skips a lot of those opportunities to teach for just moving forward. Which makes me a little sad because those insights into ancient symbology and history were some of my favorite parts of his writing. I’m a total sucker for a conspiracy theory that has just enough evidence behind it to make you wonder. And he brings those in spades with his storytelling.
But his books always make me wish I read more slowly. So I could savor them a bit more instead of plowing through them in a day.
10/12/09 - Day 'o Star Wars
What to do on a day when my husband has the day off, the children are with my parents and I am still feeling crappy? How about lie on the couch all day and have a massive Star Wars marathon? Yes, please.
We meant to just hang out, enjoy the quiet, delve deeper into the first season of Six Feet Under and maybe watch a movie. Instead, we happened upon one cable channel doing a mammoth Star Wars marathon and got totally sucked in. After watching Episodes 2 and 3 on TV, I pulled out our DVD’s and we watched the last three blissfully without commercials.
The Boy is sort of on the Star Wars bubble. I mean he’s totally into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, the animated series that started last year. We have a Friday night ritual of making dinner and then sitting down to watch Clone Wars while we eat. So he knows that particular set of character thoroughly, which is pretty cool because he gets an expanded view on characters that we mostly only got to hypothesize about unless you picked up the books, which I did not. He gets to know more of the individual Jedi; their personalities and traits. Which is actually probably my favorite part of the series. But we’ve set him down a couple of times to watch the original Star Wars movies and he gets intermittently bored. There is quite a bit of dialogue and not that many super cool, engaging for a 6 year old boy light saber fights. Even Episodes 1-3 have more action in them than the original three.
So I get it. But it was awfully fun to sit back and watch the originals. Took me right back to my childhood and the initial awe I felt at watching this whole new world unfold before my eyes. Wanting to get more into the mythology of Star Wars but not having the faintest clue as to where to start as none of my friends were quite as intrigued as I was.
It will be with great pleasure to take The Boy and guide him backwards towards the beginning of the Star Wars universe.
We meant to just hang out, enjoy the quiet, delve deeper into the first season of Six Feet Under and maybe watch a movie. Instead, we happened upon one cable channel doing a mammoth Star Wars marathon and got totally sucked in. After watching Episodes 2 and 3 on TV, I pulled out our DVD’s and we watched the last three blissfully without commercials.
The Boy is sort of on the Star Wars bubble. I mean he’s totally into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, the animated series that started last year. We have a Friday night ritual of making dinner and then sitting down to watch Clone Wars while we eat. So he knows that particular set of character thoroughly, which is pretty cool because he gets an expanded view on characters that we mostly only got to hypothesize about unless you picked up the books, which I did not. He gets to know more of the individual Jedi; their personalities and traits. Which is actually probably my favorite part of the series. But we’ve set him down a couple of times to watch the original Star Wars movies and he gets intermittently bored. There is quite a bit of dialogue and not that many super cool, engaging for a 6 year old boy light saber fights. Even Episodes 1-3 have more action in them than the original three.
So I get it. But it was awfully fun to sit back and watch the originals. Took me right back to my childhood and the initial awe I felt at watching this whole new world unfold before my eyes. Wanting to get more into the mythology of Star Wars but not having the faintest clue as to where to start as none of my friends were quite as intrigued as I was.
It will be with great pleasure to take The Boy and guide him backwards towards the beginning of the Star Wars universe.
10/11/09
The Week Ahead
We sent the children to my parents’ house today. The Boy has this whole week off for fall break and my parents were missing the kiddos so I took The Girl out of preschool for the week and off they went. I’ll probably head down there later this week to hang out for a couple of days and then bring the kiddos home next weekend to get ready to move back into the daily grind.
I’m hoping that having the next few days of quiet will allow me to banish this sickness back to whatever rock from under which it crawled. I’m thoroughly done with it now and am ready for it to vacate the premises. Post haste. And I thought I’d go thrifting to see if I can’t find the kids’ Halloween costumes for cheap.
I wish I could say I had some grand plans to pamper myself proper. I could really use a mani/pedi. And a girl’s night out. But we are in the midst of trying to figure out our cash only budget and it’s a bit tricky at the moment. So we’re not spending any money on anything but necessities. Although my husband has tomorrow off, so I thought maybe we’d raid all the penny jars to see if we couldn’t come up with enough to go see a movie or something just a wee bit fun since it’ll be just the two of us.
And it’s freaking cold here. So any temptation I may have had to go anywhere got pretty much nixed by the multi-car pile ups on the highway caused by the entire city being covered in one big sheet of ice. Colorado is apparently going through some sort of weather schizophrenia and has totally screwed up the seasons this year. We skipped fall altogether much to my butterfly bush’s dismay.
I had an unexpectedly good fantasy football day as well. So that’s always nice. After this morning’s games I was counting myself lucky to be above a total of 50 points, but then my boy, Peyton Manning, swooped in to the rescue and pulled me through. I like winning; not a bad way to start the week.
I’m hoping that having the next few days of quiet will allow me to banish this sickness back to whatever rock from under which it crawled. I’m thoroughly done with it now and am ready for it to vacate the premises. Post haste. And I thought I’d go thrifting to see if I can’t find the kids’ Halloween costumes for cheap.
I wish I could say I had some grand plans to pamper myself proper. I could really use a mani/pedi. And a girl’s night out. But we are in the midst of trying to figure out our cash only budget and it’s a bit tricky at the moment. So we’re not spending any money on anything but necessities. Although my husband has tomorrow off, so I thought maybe we’d raid all the penny jars to see if we couldn’t come up with enough to go see a movie or something just a wee bit fun since it’ll be just the two of us.
And it’s freaking cold here. So any temptation I may have had to go anywhere got pretty much nixed by the multi-car pile ups on the highway caused by the entire city being covered in one big sheet of ice. Colorado is apparently going through some sort of weather schizophrenia and has totally screwed up the seasons this year. We skipped fall altogether much to my butterfly bush’s dismay.
I had an unexpectedly good fantasy football day as well. So that’s always nice. After this morning’s games I was counting myself lucky to be above a total of 50 points, but then my boy, Peyton Manning, swooped in to the rescue and pulled me through. I like winning; not a bad way to start the week.
10/10/09
Ramble On
I’m still sick. And I am irritated about it. So I’m just sort of in a rambling mood tonight. Try to bear with me.
My daughter amazes me. I’m not at all sure how someone so small (relatively speaking of course because my children are Sasquatch children) could be so simultaneously irritating and adorable. She has started doing some things that I was dreading about having a girl, i.e. getting totally obsessed with one or two dresses and then refusing to wear anything but those dresses at all times regardless of how many other clothes she has access to or how dirty those two singled out dresses become. She’s also taken to wearing her old baby hats, which would funny enough on its own but then she puts a tiara on top of the teeny tiny hats to make sure they stay on. That paired with the net tutus she puts on over her favorite dresses, accessorized with an assemblage of Mardi gras beads and old thrift store necklaces makes for quite the sight on her little 3 year old self.
I’ve been doing some research for a friend of mine into baby carriers available on thebabywearer.com because I’m trying to get her the hell away from the baby bjorn/snuggli and towards something that will be better and more comfortable for her and baby both. But in the course of spreading the baby wearing love, my own baby carrier obsession has once again arisen. I’m drooling over Eye2Eye mei tai’s and Vatanai wraps and Pslings. It’s awful. I should just stay away from the for sale or trade forum; it gives me the wants something awful. But it is interesting to see what the hot carriers at any given point in time. It changes pretty often; wraps are huge right now whereas the last time I was stalking the FSOT boards it was soft structured carriers.
I got to spend the whole day watching college football. I can’t even remember the last time I got to do that. No kid shows. Just football. I got to watch the Oklahoma AND Michigan games. Now I’m keeping my fingers crossed that my fantasy team shows up tomorrow.
My daughter amazes me. I’m not at all sure how someone so small (relatively speaking of course because my children are Sasquatch children) could be so simultaneously irritating and adorable. She has started doing some things that I was dreading about having a girl, i.e. getting totally obsessed with one or two dresses and then refusing to wear anything but those dresses at all times regardless of how many other clothes she has access to or how dirty those two singled out dresses become. She’s also taken to wearing her old baby hats, which would funny enough on its own but then she puts a tiara on top of the teeny tiny hats to make sure they stay on. That paired with the net tutus she puts on over her favorite dresses, accessorized with an assemblage of Mardi gras beads and old thrift store necklaces makes for quite the sight on her little 3 year old self.
I’ve been doing some research for a friend of mine into baby carriers available on thebabywearer.com because I’m trying to get her the hell away from the baby bjorn/snuggli and towards something that will be better and more comfortable for her and baby both. But in the course of spreading the baby wearing love, my own baby carrier obsession has once again arisen. I’m drooling over Eye2Eye mei tai’s and Vatanai wraps and Pslings. It’s awful. I should just stay away from the for sale or trade forum; it gives me the wants something awful. But it is interesting to see what the hot carriers at any given point in time. It changes pretty often; wraps are huge right now whereas the last time I was stalking the FSOT boards it was soft structured carriers.
I got to spend the whole day watching college football. I can’t even remember the last time I got to do that. No kid shows. Just football. I got to watch the Oklahoma AND Michigan games. Now I’m keeping my fingers crossed that my fantasy team shows up tomorrow.
10/9/09
Nobel Vision
“We were quite surprised.” – Sr. White House official on President Obama’s being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
I must say that I agree. Not to say he doesn’t deserve it. But that I’m surprised he got it at this point in time. I believe Barack Obama to possess incredible potential to do amazing work in this world. I think he has the capacity to bring people together in a way that not many do and he is completely unabashed about leveraging that capacity to work towards international peace and provide a stronger and safer way of life in all of our back yards.
The general consensus seems to be this is the Nobel committee’s way of encouraging him to keep doing the work that needs to be done regardless of his prior experience. Their way, perhaps, of lending him the Nobel pedigree to further embolden him to keep making strides towards realizing his vision. And that I can totally buy. Although I wonder how that makes him feel? That while enough of the world already agrees and supports the work he’s doing to get him nominated for the Nobel in the first place, they also still feel that his qualifications are lacking enough to need to borrow pedigree of any kind.
I guess the most interesting thing is that it appears that Obama’s particular vision is apparently quenching some worldwide need big enough to warrant this kind of recognition. That his vision alone is enough in the world as it is to garner this type of encouragement. Because even though I love the guy, let’s face it, there simply hasn’t been enough time yet for him to achieve much of his vision internationally (or domestically for that matter). So this award is much more of a “you go boy!” type of thing to keep him going down the path he’s laid.
All in all I think it’s a brilliant thing. Brilliant that the world is aware enough that peace is in fact what it needs. Brilliant that they recognize in this man the ability to bring us all closer to that vision. Brilliant that Obama now has one more tool to get the job done.
I must say that I agree. Not to say he doesn’t deserve it. But that I’m surprised he got it at this point in time. I believe Barack Obama to possess incredible potential to do amazing work in this world. I think he has the capacity to bring people together in a way that not many do and he is completely unabashed about leveraging that capacity to work towards international peace and provide a stronger and safer way of life in all of our back yards.
The general consensus seems to be this is the Nobel committee’s way of encouraging him to keep doing the work that needs to be done regardless of his prior experience. Their way, perhaps, of lending him the Nobel pedigree to further embolden him to keep making strides towards realizing his vision. And that I can totally buy. Although I wonder how that makes him feel? That while enough of the world already agrees and supports the work he’s doing to get him nominated for the Nobel in the first place, they also still feel that his qualifications are lacking enough to need to borrow pedigree of any kind.
I guess the most interesting thing is that it appears that Obama’s particular vision is apparently quenching some worldwide need big enough to warrant this kind of recognition. That his vision alone is enough in the world as it is to garner this type of encouragement. Because even though I love the guy, let’s face it, there simply hasn’t been enough time yet for him to achieve much of his vision internationally (or domestically for that matter). So this award is much more of a “you go boy!” type of thing to keep him going down the path he’s laid.
All in all I think it’s a brilliant thing. Brilliant that the world is aware enough that peace is in fact what it needs. Brilliant that they recognize in this man the ability to bring us all closer to that vision. Brilliant that Obama now has one more tool to get the job done.
10/8/09 - Cardio Follow-up
**Yeah. You know the drill. Sorry. I'm sick.**
The Girl’s cardiologist appointment was today. They did an EKG and an echocardiogram in the office as well as taking the time to go through pretty much her entire medical history with me. And after all of that, he confirmed that she has a heart murmur and also has an Atrial Septal Defect (ASD). What does all of this mean? NOTHING!!! The heart murmur is completely benign and nothing to worry about. The ASD is also nothing to worry about. They are both pretty normal for kids her age and almost always go away on their own. He said she looked totally normal and healthy and that we should just continue working with our pediatrician to get her respiratory issues figured out.
And even in my sickness induced haze I wanted to do jumping jacks and hug the guy right there in his office. I mean not to mention that he was soooo nice and thorough and patient and was outstanding with The Girl. Not to mention that he and the nurses totally let The Girl abuse the sticker policy because she kept leaving her stickers in the various exam rooms. Not to mention that the doctor took the time to ask me a bunch of “getting to know you” questions before launching into the last eighteen months series of medical events with The Girl.
I have lost track of the number of cardiologists that I’ve seen over the years with my own heart condition and I can honestly say that none of them were as wonderful as this guy. In my (relatively limited) experience specialists can be, well, dicks. They tend to be all haughty and holier than thou. And while I suppose I can understand how they could get like that, I’ve never been able to understand why they would want to be. How can alienating your patients make you a better doctor?
Anyway, we have good news. And that rocks and is something for which I am utterly and completely well, life in general at this point. Maybe grateful. It’s a nice change of pace actually. I’m so used to getting non-good news with The Girl, and our luck is turning around.
The Girl’s cardiologist appointment was today. They did an EKG and an echocardiogram in the office as well as taking the time to go through pretty much her entire medical history with me. And after all of that, he confirmed that she has a heart murmur and also has an Atrial Septal Defect (ASD). What does all of this mean? NOTHING!!! The heart murmur is completely benign and nothing to worry about. The ASD is also nothing to worry about. They are both pretty normal for kids her age and almost always go away on their own. He said she looked totally normal and healthy and that we should just continue working with our pediatrician to get her respiratory issues figured out.
And even in my sickness induced haze I wanted to do jumping jacks and hug the guy right there in his office. I mean not to mention that he was soooo nice and thorough and patient and was outstanding with The Girl. Not to mention that he and the nurses totally let The Girl abuse the sticker policy because she kept leaving her stickers in the various exam rooms. Not to mention that the doctor took the time to ask me a bunch of “getting to know you” questions before launching into the last eighteen months series of medical events with The Girl.
I have lost track of the number of cardiologists that I’ve seen over the years with my own heart condition and I can honestly say that none of them were as wonderful as this guy. In my (relatively limited) experience specialists can be, well, dicks. They tend to be all haughty and holier than thou. And while I suppose I can understand how they could get like that, I’ve never been able to understand why they would want to be. How can alienating your patients make you a better doctor?
Anyway, we have good news. And that rocks and is something for which I am utterly and completely well, life in general at this point. Maybe grateful. It’s a nice change of pace actually. I’m so used to getting non-good news with The Girl, and our luck is turning around.
10/7/09
Griping AND Whining
Since I was already griping yesterday, I thought I would continue today.
I am frigging fragging sick! And I am not even remotely happy about it. The Boy has a runny nose that just won’t quit (but that seems to be his only symptom thank goodness), my husband came home from work yesterday and went straight to bed (although by evening he seemed to be feeling a bit better) and by mid-afternoon yesterday my head had filled up and was pounding and the chills had set in. I think I slept last night from about 2 – 4am and that’s about it because I could not breathe and my head was hurting so badly that all I could do was lay very still and hope that a meteor would land squarely on my side of the bed and put me out of my misery. Now The Girl has started sneezing today (although that appears to be her only affliction which is not stopping her from pulling out her Oscar award winning rendition of “Super-cute Plague Infested Princess”). I’m hoping that if she does indeed get whatever this is, that it is light and no big deal despite the fact that she’s already coughing. But I will be in doctor’s offices with her for the next two days, so at least there’s that.
I don’t remember our household being quite so germ-ridden before The Girl landed on the scene. But I suppose it makes sense that there would be twice the number of germy hitchhikers arriving on our doorstep with both kids in school and my husband working in cubicle hell with a bunch of people who also have kids. I am so feeling like the innocent bystander here.
So the day is half gone and The Girl and I are still in our jammies. I’ve unabashedly had the TV on for the majority of the day and have no plans to turn it off. I suppose I have to drag myself upstairs to find something with which to feed The Girl soon since it is lunchtime. But I’ll tell you what, these family members who keep getting me sick will be fending for themselves for dinner.
I am frigging fragging sick! And I am not even remotely happy about it. The Boy has a runny nose that just won’t quit (but that seems to be his only symptom thank goodness), my husband came home from work yesterday and went straight to bed (although by evening he seemed to be feeling a bit better) and by mid-afternoon yesterday my head had filled up and was pounding and the chills had set in. I think I slept last night from about 2 – 4am and that’s about it because I could not breathe and my head was hurting so badly that all I could do was lay very still and hope that a meteor would land squarely on my side of the bed and put me out of my misery. Now The Girl has started sneezing today (although that appears to be her only affliction which is not stopping her from pulling out her Oscar award winning rendition of “Super-cute Plague Infested Princess”). I’m hoping that if she does indeed get whatever this is, that it is light and no big deal despite the fact that she’s already coughing. But I will be in doctor’s offices with her for the next two days, so at least there’s that.
I don’t remember our household being quite so germ-ridden before The Girl landed on the scene. But I suppose it makes sense that there would be twice the number of germy hitchhikers arriving on our doorstep with both kids in school and my husband working in cubicle hell with a bunch of people who also have kids. I am so feeling like the innocent bystander here.
So the day is half gone and The Girl and I are still in our jammies. I’ve unabashedly had the TV on for the majority of the day and have no plans to turn it off. I suppose I have to drag myself upstairs to find something with which to feed The Girl soon since it is lunchtime. But I’ll tell you what, these family members who keep getting me sick will be fending for themselves for dinner.
10/6/09 - Football Gripe
**Sorry this is late (man I seem to be saying that alot lately), but something nasty put me on the couch yesterday and I am still there, much whining is sure to ensue.**
I love playing fantasy football. I really love it. I mean yes, I gripe occasionally that it takes more time than I have to really do good research. Or that the networks never play the games I want to watch so I can see players in action that I’ve had my eye on. But mostly, I love it.
Except for one thing.
The all girls league I have always played in added more players this year and I do not love playing in a 12 player deep league. I do not enjoy doing all of my weekly research only to find that the other players apparently read faster than I do or have some other mind-meldish type tie to Matthew Berry and have already picked up EVERY single player I was going to add to my team. Having that many players in a league really means you have to dig deep to find substitutes on bye weeks or to swap out hurt players or flat get rid of players who just are not performing. Consequently, this year is taking a lot more time than I am used to.
I am fully aware that my latitude for griping is slim because I am the two-time defending champion of my league (notice how nonchalantly I threw that in there this time?). That really I need to stop the bitching and just suck it up. But seriously, I am totally frigging frustrated at the moment. Not to mention that I’m not entirely happy with my ranking or current record.
By this time in the NFL season, there are typically standouts. Players who are consistently producing, rookies who have emerged as go-to’s for their quarterbacks. Overall dominant players in one way or another. But here’s the frustrating part. Every time I get me one of those dominant players, they get hurt or they all of sudden stop producing. So back to the drawing board I go in hopes of finding someone new that will fit the bill. And I’ve gotten lucky a couple of times, but mostly, I have just found more frustration.
It appears that I am really going to have work it to earn my third championship.
I love playing fantasy football. I really love it. I mean yes, I gripe occasionally that it takes more time than I have to really do good research. Or that the networks never play the games I want to watch so I can see players in action that I’ve had my eye on. But mostly, I love it.
Except for one thing.
The all girls league I have always played in added more players this year and I do not love playing in a 12 player deep league. I do not enjoy doing all of my weekly research only to find that the other players apparently read faster than I do or have some other mind-meldish type tie to Matthew Berry and have already picked up EVERY single player I was going to add to my team. Having that many players in a league really means you have to dig deep to find substitutes on bye weeks or to swap out hurt players or flat get rid of players who just are not performing. Consequently, this year is taking a lot more time than I am used to.
I am fully aware that my latitude for griping is slim because I am the two-time defending champion of my league (notice how nonchalantly I threw that in there this time?). That really I need to stop the bitching and just suck it up. But seriously, I am totally frigging frustrated at the moment. Not to mention that I’m not entirely happy with my ranking or current record.
By this time in the NFL season, there are typically standouts. Players who are consistently producing, rookies who have emerged as go-to’s for their quarterbacks. Overall dominant players in one way or another. But here’s the frustrating part. Every time I get me one of those dominant players, they get hurt or they all of sudden stop producing. So back to the drawing board I go in hopes of finding someone new that will fit the bill. And I’ve gotten lucky a couple of times, but mostly, I have just found more frustration.
It appears that I am really going to have work it to earn my third championship.
10/5/09
My Pitta Nature
Not too long after I got out of college, I had a massive eczema/psoriasis breakout that was misdiagnosed and I was prescribed topical cortico-steroids for entirely too long and thus a Candida infection broke out. The breakout and infection was pretty much localized to my hands and feet, which was sort of a blessing except that there were literally days when I could not walk because my feet were in such bad shape and I lived in cotton gloves for months because of how cracked and broken the skin on my hands had become. It was a horrifically painful and humbling experience and that I will never forget.
I tried everything under the sun to make it even bearable and in the end; the only things that worked were an Ayurvedic herb regimen and keeping sage oil on my hands and feet at all times. As I did the diagnostic interview with the Ayurveda practitioner who was also a long time friend of my mom’s she cemented her feeling that I fall under the Pitta designation. Which essentially means I have too much fire in me (which of you didn’t know that already?). And when that fire (acidity) gets out of balance, then it throws everything in me out of balance – my diet, my moods, my digestion, my skin, you name it.
After about 4-6 months of this strict Pitta calming regimen, my hands and feet were completely better. And they have never gotten as bad as that again, although I have certainly had outbreaks (usually when I have to be on antibiotics). And it’s just always something that I’ve kept in the back of my head – my Pitta nature.
So after spending the last several weeks with damn near unbearable heart burn that made me cough and gag and want to throw up in the middle of the night, I once again turned to Ayurvedic remedies. And after changing my diet for 24 hours, there is a radical difference.
Now I am generally really not one for the woo-woo stuff. But this not only gave me really good results, but almost instantaneously. It’s hard not be wooed by that kind of woo-woo, you know?
I tried everything under the sun to make it even bearable and in the end; the only things that worked were an Ayurvedic herb regimen and keeping sage oil on my hands and feet at all times. As I did the diagnostic interview with the Ayurveda practitioner who was also a long time friend of my mom’s she cemented her feeling that I fall under the Pitta designation. Which essentially means I have too much fire in me (which of you didn’t know that already?). And when that fire (acidity) gets out of balance, then it throws everything in me out of balance – my diet, my moods, my digestion, my skin, you name it.
After about 4-6 months of this strict Pitta calming regimen, my hands and feet were completely better. And they have never gotten as bad as that again, although I have certainly had outbreaks (usually when I have to be on antibiotics). And it’s just always something that I’ve kept in the back of my head – my Pitta nature.
So after spending the last several weeks with damn near unbearable heart burn that made me cough and gag and want to throw up in the middle of the night, I once again turned to Ayurvedic remedies. And after changing my diet for 24 hours, there is a radical difference.
Now I am generally really not one for the woo-woo stuff. But this not only gave me really good results, but almost instantaneously. It’s hard not be wooed by that kind of woo-woo, you know?
10/4/09
Paint Payback
When I was in elementary school, my parents decided to have the basement in our house finished. It was a long process, but when it was done, my mom had a great space to do yoga and I had a great play space (which would eventually become my room when I hit high school). I had a big wooden easel that my dad had made me down there all set up and ready for me to paint whenever I wanted. Until one day when there was a major paint accident involving red paint that the carpet would never recover from. That stain was still there when my parents sold the house when I graduated from college.
I thought that my karma had been repaid for that carpet defilement when The Girl found some blue acrylic paint and proceeded to crawl across the floor with it leaving a bright, blue trail behind her like a trail of bread crumbs for Muppets.
Apparently, not so much.
Because my husband woke up this morning to our children painting. The couch. They had decided to continue with the project he had started with them the previous day painting sun catchers and then decided that the couch needed some sprucing up. So they spread black, red and yellow paint all over the cushions and one pillow of our beige couch (yes I’m aware that a case could be made that we were asking for it by having a light colored couch with two children). Needless to say they spent the morning in their respective rooms while my husband and I were watching football (and I was watching my fantasy team have a truly sucky day when they were supposed to have a day in which they all shined and put up many points to carry me to a winning record).
And we were not able to get all the paint out. So there it will sit, on our couch cushions as a marker of our children’s’ creativity and our mistake of leaving them to their own devices when they get up entirely too early. But at the end of the day, I guess we can always just flip the cushions.
I thought that my karma had been repaid for that carpet defilement when The Girl found some blue acrylic paint and proceeded to crawl across the floor with it leaving a bright, blue trail behind her like a trail of bread crumbs for Muppets.
Apparently, not so much.
Because my husband woke up this morning to our children painting. The couch. They had decided to continue with the project he had started with them the previous day painting sun catchers and then decided that the couch needed some sprucing up. So they spread black, red and yellow paint all over the cushions and one pillow of our beige couch (yes I’m aware that a case could be made that we were asking for it by having a light colored couch with two children). Needless to say they spent the morning in their respective rooms while my husband and I were watching football (and I was watching my fantasy team have a truly sucky day when they were supposed to have a day in which they all shined and put up many points to carry me to a winning record).
And we were not able to get all the paint out. So there it will sit, on our couch cushions as a marker of our children’s’ creativity and our mistake of leaving them to their own devices when they get up entirely too early. But at the end of the day, I guess we can always just flip the cushions.
10/3/09 - Soux Chef
**Sorry this is late, I got home really late last night so it would have posted today anyway.**
I think I probably could have been very happy in a career as a soux chef. I really love to take a whole pile of veggies and through complete focus end up with skillfully cut, diced and chiffonaded ingredients.
So when I showed up at H and D’s house today for an evening of hanging out with friends and found them completely up to their ears in making salsa, I dove right in to help. They have one of the most amazing vegetable gardens I have ever seen. And were swimming in tomatoes, jalapenos and green chilies so had decided to make a huge amount of salsa and then can it all. The problem(s) is that they didn’t have a food processor, they have the tiniest kitchen ever and neither of them had ever made salsa before. They had frozen all of their romas (without blanching, peeling and seeding them first, which is definitely not my choice for making fresh salsa, but we made do with it) and they were only about half defrosted, so D was busy doing 2-3 tomatoes at a time in their teeny tiny prep processor. It looked a bit more like tomato sorbet than salsa at first. H and I set about pulling the skin off the peppers and chilies. As soon as D started cutting the onions we all really found out exactly how small that kitchen was as the coughing, gagging and crying ensued.
Thank God for Pilsner Urquel.
After about two and a half hours of prepping and mixing and tasting and tweaking, we had three big batches of mild, medium and hot salsa of just about perfect texture and flavor. I was pretty impressed with us and aside from gagging on all the fumes and the capsasin burns from my silly choice to peel chilies sans gloves, we all had a lot of fun with the process.
So we finished our beers and went to dinner. It was a perfectly lovely way to spend a Saturday evening. They kept apologizing profusely for putting me to work, but I just hope that this will finally teach them I just love their company, no matter what we’re doing.
I think I probably could have been very happy in a career as a soux chef. I really love to take a whole pile of veggies and through complete focus end up with skillfully cut, diced and chiffonaded ingredients.
So when I showed up at H and D’s house today for an evening of hanging out with friends and found them completely up to their ears in making salsa, I dove right in to help. They have one of the most amazing vegetable gardens I have ever seen. And were swimming in tomatoes, jalapenos and green chilies so had decided to make a huge amount of salsa and then can it all. The problem(s) is that they didn’t have a food processor, they have the tiniest kitchen ever and neither of them had ever made salsa before. They had frozen all of their romas (without blanching, peeling and seeding them first, which is definitely not my choice for making fresh salsa, but we made do with it) and they were only about half defrosted, so D was busy doing 2-3 tomatoes at a time in their teeny tiny prep processor. It looked a bit more like tomato sorbet than salsa at first. H and I set about pulling the skin off the peppers and chilies. As soon as D started cutting the onions we all really found out exactly how small that kitchen was as the coughing, gagging and crying ensued.
Thank God for Pilsner Urquel.
After about two and a half hours of prepping and mixing and tasting and tweaking, we had three big batches of mild, medium and hot salsa of just about perfect texture and flavor. I was pretty impressed with us and aside from gagging on all the fumes and the capsasin burns from my silly choice to peel chilies sans gloves, we all had a lot of fun with the process.
So we finished our beers and went to dinner. It was a perfectly lovely way to spend a Saturday evening. They kept apologizing profusely for putting me to work, but I just hope that this will finally teach them I just love their company, no matter what we’re doing.
10/3/09
10/2/09 - Surface Cleaning
** Sorry!! I forgot to post this last night! **
So here is the problem with having house cleaning so far down my list of priorities: when a friend comes to visit and I realize my house is a hot mess, I have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for an entire morning trying to make it look presentable.
I guess since we just don’t get many visitors that I forgot to look at my house occasionally as if I didn’t live there. Until this morning when lovely J and her sweet boy M were on their way to our house for lunch. And all I could see was dust and dirt and doggie foot prints and dirty dishes (hmmm, all of that starts with D, how interesting). So I whipped myself into a whirlwind and got things set back to order. Sort of. It was better than nothing.
But it also made me see the things that just are not on my radar from a day to day basis. Like the baseboards and the wreck they are. I mean we have lived in this house for 7 years now, and it wasn’t new when we moved in, so it is normal that it should start showing some well lived in wear and tear. Plus we have two whirligig children and three obnoxious dogs. But our baseboards are a mess. I’d like to rip them all out and put in new ones. Fresh, white ones with no dust or wood splinters. And the corners of many walls are chipped from being banged with swords and baby heads and wagons and blocks (and my mom’s wheelchair) that we really should patch up and re-paint.
There are just tons of things like that. And it is my head taking over and muttering a string of “oh my god she’s totally judging me for my baseboards and look at the dent in that wall from where The Boy slammed open the door and the sliding glass door is wrecked from the neurotic chocolate lab who scratches at it constantly and blah, blah, blah” whenever we have people over.
So what have I learned? Not to pay too close attention when I’m cleaning, obviously.
So here is the problem with having house cleaning so far down my list of priorities: when a friend comes to visit and I realize my house is a hot mess, I have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for an entire morning trying to make it look presentable.
I guess since we just don’t get many visitors that I forgot to look at my house occasionally as if I didn’t live there. Until this morning when lovely J and her sweet boy M were on their way to our house for lunch. And all I could see was dust and dirt and doggie foot prints and dirty dishes (hmmm, all of that starts with D, how interesting). So I whipped myself into a whirlwind and got things set back to order. Sort of. It was better than nothing.
But it also made me see the things that just are not on my radar from a day to day basis. Like the baseboards and the wreck they are. I mean we have lived in this house for 7 years now, and it wasn’t new when we moved in, so it is normal that it should start showing some well lived in wear and tear. Plus we have two whirligig children and three obnoxious dogs. But our baseboards are a mess. I’d like to rip them all out and put in new ones. Fresh, white ones with no dust or wood splinters. And the corners of many walls are chipped from being banged with swords and baby heads and wagons and blocks (and my mom’s wheelchair) that we really should patch up and re-paint.
There are just tons of things like that. And it is my head taking over and muttering a string of “oh my god she’s totally judging me for my baseboards and look at the dent in that wall from where The Boy slammed open the door and the sliding glass door is wrecked from the neurotic chocolate lab who scratches at it constantly and blah, blah, blah” whenever we have people over.
So what have I learned? Not to pay too close attention when I’m cleaning, obviously.
10/1/09
Not Ok
I am not feeling romantic or wistful or any of the other things I’ve been feeling lately. Today I am angry. I am angry because the son of a friend of mine is laying in the PICU at Denver Children’s Hospital fighting for his life. He came home with a sore throat and fever a week ago and is now on a heart/lung bypass machine fighting for his life. And I am angry because the doctors should have been able to prevent this. I am angry because I keep hearing about how H1N1 is pretty mild and the only danger is in overwhelming the medical system and then this sweet boy gets it and is living hour to hour. But mostly I am angry because there is an entire hospital 90 minutes from my doorstep full of nothing but children in danger and the world is still turning. People are still going grocery shopping and going to work and paying bills and driving around like that is ok. And it is absolutely the hell not ok.
I have another friend whose daughter is also at DCH right now and while she is not in critical care, she is also not healthy and got a life altering diagnosis not too long ago that turned their whole world upside down.
And The Girl has a pediatric cardiologist appointment in just over a week to see if we can add a few more things to her little plate.
And none of this is ok.
Will there ever be a way to reconcile children dying or getting horrific sicknesses or being born with disastrous genetic syndromes? I know all the arguments for natural selection and fate and what makes us stronger. And in the face of a sweet boy being kept alive by machinery I declare all of that to be bullshit. There is just no reason for this much pain and sorrow. These parents have done nothing to deserve being made stronger in this way. These children should be romping with their friends and siblings. Being silly and having fun.
There is no excuse. And it makes me angry in a way that I can’t contain or justify.
I have another friend whose daughter is also at DCH right now and while she is not in critical care, she is also not healthy and got a life altering diagnosis not too long ago that turned their whole world upside down.
And The Girl has a pediatric cardiologist appointment in just over a week to see if we can add a few more things to her little plate.
And none of this is ok.
Will there ever be a way to reconcile children dying or getting horrific sicknesses or being born with disastrous genetic syndromes? I know all the arguments for natural selection and fate and what makes us stronger. And in the face of a sweet boy being kept alive by machinery I declare all of that to be bullshit. There is just no reason for this much pain and sorrow. These parents have done nothing to deserve being made stronger in this way. These children should be romping with their friends and siblings. Being silly and having fun.
There is no excuse. And it makes me angry in a way that I can’t contain or justify.
9/30/09
Random Thoughts
Random thoughts:
I’m pretty sure I’m an over-sharer. I have several blogs that I read on a regular basis. Some are themed to a specific topic and some are more journalistic like this one has become. But the theme through them all is that they don’t lay bare their souls on a daily basis to the ethers of the internets. They all have filters it seems because I’m sure they all have stresses and bad days just like I do, but they somehow manage to not share every single iota of minutiae with their readers. Apparently I do not have one of said filters. I’m sure you wish that I would procure one post haste.
My alma mater just announced who they hired for the job I wanted so badly and did not get. She’s quite a bit younger than I am, has a Master’s degree and has been involved with campus activities since graduating. So she has the campus ties that I don’t have and she has the higher level degree which I don’t have. And I’m sure she’s a very nice person, which is up for debate about me. But from what I can tell from the announcement she does not have any alumni/donor experience. So she got the job because she seems like a better PR candidate instead of possessing the core experience and expertise. And that pisses me off. I should have expected it, but it still pisses me off. So I’m having some bitterness today.
I made a fairly successful chicken korma last night. Although pretty much the whole meal was a big fat cheat. I used a jarred korma spice mix. I used rotisserie chicken that I just cut up and heated through with the veggies, cashews (pre-roasted), raisins, spices, a bit of water and milk (I didn’t have any whipping cream on hand). I even used microwavable jasmine rice. But it tasted good and took me about 20 minutes to put together. The Boy liked it. The Girl wouldn’t touch it. My husband picked at it. I’m having the rest of it for lunch today.
Mercury is doing something funky and I’m a Gemini. Welcome to my day.
I’m pretty sure I’m an over-sharer. I have several blogs that I read on a regular basis. Some are themed to a specific topic and some are more journalistic like this one has become. But the theme through them all is that they don’t lay bare their souls on a daily basis to the ethers of the internets. They all have filters it seems because I’m sure they all have stresses and bad days just like I do, but they somehow manage to not share every single iota of minutiae with their readers. Apparently I do not have one of said filters. I’m sure you wish that I would procure one post haste.
My alma mater just announced who they hired for the job I wanted so badly and did not get. She’s quite a bit younger than I am, has a Master’s degree and has been involved with campus activities since graduating. So she has the campus ties that I don’t have and she has the higher level degree which I don’t have. And I’m sure she’s a very nice person, which is up for debate about me. But from what I can tell from the announcement she does not have any alumni/donor experience. So she got the job because she seems like a better PR candidate instead of possessing the core experience and expertise. And that pisses me off. I should have expected it, but it still pisses me off. So I’m having some bitterness today.
I made a fairly successful chicken korma last night. Although pretty much the whole meal was a big fat cheat. I used a jarred korma spice mix. I used rotisserie chicken that I just cut up and heated through with the veggies, cashews (pre-roasted), raisins, spices, a bit of water and milk (I didn’t have any whipping cream on hand). I even used microwavable jasmine rice. But it tasted good and took me about 20 minutes to put together. The Boy liked it. The Girl wouldn’t touch it. My husband picked at it. I’m having the rest of it for lunch today.
Mercury is doing something funky and I’m a Gemini. Welcome to my day.
9/29/09
Romancing the Lyrics
I tried to tell you before I left
But I was screaming under my breath
You are the only thing that makes sense
Just ignore all this present tense
We need to feel breathless with love
And not collapse under its weight
I’m gasping for the air to fill
My lungs with everything I’ve lost – It’s Beginning to Get to Me – Snow Patrol
I am completely head over heels for the band Snow Patrol. They are a new discovery for me, but they’ve been around for a while. I’ve apparently just been underneath the motherhood rock again and didn’t notice them until recently when the lovely D introduced me to them.
As I was listening to one of their albums yesterday on the way to meet K for lunch it dawned on me why I love them so much. Because I’ve finally found a band that rivals my own inner sense of romanticism. I mean these guys are a bunch of hopeless romantics just like me. And unlike a lot of other bands/artists/authors who stray into romantic arenas, they have no trace of cynicism or regret or judgment about their romantic natures. And that is utterly refreshing. I mean there is sadness in their lyrics. Sorrow for the loss of someone dear. But that doesn’t take away from any of the heartfelt things they sing about. Their songs are just so poetically sweet. And I love that.
I have spent most of my life hiding/dumbing down/wishing away/disowning/ignoring my own over the top romantic nature. Wishing that I didn’t blush at the drop of a hat. Pretending that I just didn’t care all that much. But as I’ve well documented here, I make the same wish on the first star every night and I was laying on my trampoline fervently wishing for the Goblin King to take me away after seeing Labyrinth and I’m so obsessed with the Twilight Saga because of how rooted in romance and love the whole silly thing is.
I think I was born in the wrong era. I should belong to an era where there is courtship and chivalry and blushing means you’re doing something right. Oh well, maybe next lifetime.
But I was screaming under my breath
You are the only thing that makes sense
Just ignore all this present tense
We need to feel breathless with love
And not collapse under its weight
I’m gasping for the air to fill
My lungs with everything I’ve lost – It’s Beginning to Get to Me – Snow Patrol
I am completely head over heels for the band Snow Patrol. They are a new discovery for me, but they’ve been around for a while. I’ve apparently just been underneath the motherhood rock again and didn’t notice them until recently when the lovely D introduced me to them.
As I was listening to one of their albums yesterday on the way to meet K for lunch it dawned on me why I love them so much. Because I’ve finally found a band that rivals my own inner sense of romanticism. I mean these guys are a bunch of hopeless romantics just like me. And unlike a lot of other bands/artists/authors who stray into romantic arenas, they have no trace of cynicism or regret or judgment about their romantic natures. And that is utterly refreshing. I mean there is sadness in their lyrics. Sorrow for the loss of someone dear. But that doesn’t take away from any of the heartfelt things they sing about. Their songs are just so poetically sweet. And I love that.
I have spent most of my life hiding/dumbing down/wishing away/disowning/ignoring my own over the top romantic nature. Wishing that I didn’t blush at the drop of a hat. Pretending that I just didn’t care all that much. But as I’ve well documented here, I make the same wish on the first star every night and I was laying on my trampoline fervently wishing for the Goblin King to take me away after seeing Labyrinth and I’m so obsessed with the Twilight Saga because of how rooted in romance and love the whole silly thing is.
I think I was born in the wrong era. I should belong to an era where there is courtship and chivalry and blushing means you’re doing something right. Oh well, maybe next lifetime.
9/28/09 - Presently Stressed
My irritation level has been through the roof lately. I mean, yes, I have a lot going on right now and I’m doing everything I can not to project or cause myself any unneeded stress by letting my imagination run wild with anything. And it’s not so much being so quick to crabbiness that has me baffled, it’s who I’m taking it out on that is strange. Mostly my mom and The Girl. They are both just driving me crazy and I’ve no idea why.
My mom was in town all weekend for The Boy’s birthday and I found myself snapping at her left and right no matter what the request or observation was that happened to come out of her mouth. And I felt awful about it, I mean she totally did not deserve the force of my wrath. And neither does The Girl, but I swear I would do almost anything if she would just be quiet. She’s been throwing massive temper tantrums for about the last week; finally coming into her full 3 year old self. And my tolerance for her is remarkably low. So I’ve been yelling and not engaging. And throwing my own tantrums right back at her. It’s not fair to her, not to mention that all I’m actually doing is compounding my own irritation by feeding into hers.
It’s ridiculous really. I mean seriously, how old am I?
Maybe instead of staying as present as I thought I was, I’ve actually been stifling my stress. Thus taking it out on the safe people in my life, i.e. the people who will love me no matter how big of a bitch I may be at any given time. Maybe I should just let myself be stressed. I mean I guess I’ve earned it. I just thought that maybe I was finally above it a bit. That maybe I’d made enough progress to not allow myself to be drug down into the quagmire of drama and trauma. But maybe that’s my ego talking and instead being present right now means just being stressed out. For better or for worse. And knowing that it’s temporary. That everything changes. All the time.
My mom was in town all weekend for The Boy’s birthday and I found myself snapping at her left and right no matter what the request or observation was that happened to come out of her mouth. And I felt awful about it, I mean she totally did not deserve the force of my wrath. And neither does The Girl, but I swear I would do almost anything if she would just be quiet. She’s been throwing massive temper tantrums for about the last week; finally coming into her full 3 year old self. And my tolerance for her is remarkably low. So I’ve been yelling and not engaging. And throwing my own tantrums right back at her. It’s not fair to her, not to mention that all I’m actually doing is compounding my own irritation by feeding into hers.
It’s ridiculous really. I mean seriously, how old am I?
Maybe instead of staying as present as I thought I was, I’ve actually been stifling my stress. Thus taking it out on the safe people in my life, i.e. the people who will love me no matter how big of a bitch I may be at any given time. Maybe I should just let myself be stressed. I mean I guess I’ve earned it. I just thought that maybe I was finally above it a bit. That maybe I’d made enough progress to not allow myself to be drug down into the quagmire of drama and trauma. But maybe that’s my ego talking and instead being present right now means just being stressed out. For better or for worse. And knowing that it’s temporary. That everything changes. All the time.
9/27/09
Another Happy Birthday!
One of the first times I ever really met my husband was on his 21st birthday. I saw him long enough to wish him a happy birthday before his fraternity brothers took him bar hopping. I saw him again several hours later when those same brothers deposited him face down on the floor in the quad. After standing around him for a while, occasionally checking to make sure he was still breathing, someone flipped him over and brought out the markers. I wrote something loving on his forehead with a big black Sharpie and bid him good night. If I remember correctly, it took him several days to get all the marker off his face. He was already nursing a crush for me at that point, so I was quickly forgiven, but it’s still one of the funniest memories I have of him.
Today is his 32nd birthday. I don’t make grand plans for his birthdays anymore as he’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t really like to celebrate his birthday much. And he had to work today anyway, so we couldn’t really have done much. But I made him his favorite mismatched breakfast – orange cinnamon rolls and bacon and tried to let him just have a fun day when he wasn’t working. My mom took us all out for dinner, which is always a nice treat.
It’s been a nice weekend, celebrating my two favorite boys. Pampering them silly just because I can. I wish I could find ways to pamper them on a daily basis. But it’s hard to find new ways to pamper someone you’ve been with for 10 years and it’s even harder to pamper a 6-year old boy who changes his mind every 17 minutes. But I try. I try to make them their favorite meals whenever I can. I try to do little things for them that will make them smile or let them know that I’ve noticed. I do what I can because they deserve it, I love them and it’s my job.
Happy Birthday my husband. I hope this next year is full of hope, the best kind of surprises, success, health and happiness for you.
Today is his 32nd birthday. I don’t make grand plans for his birthdays anymore as he’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t really like to celebrate his birthday much. And he had to work today anyway, so we couldn’t really have done much. But I made him his favorite mismatched breakfast – orange cinnamon rolls and bacon and tried to let him just have a fun day when he wasn’t working. My mom took us all out for dinner, which is always a nice treat.
It’s been a nice weekend, celebrating my two favorite boys. Pampering them silly just because I can. I wish I could find ways to pamper them on a daily basis. But it’s hard to find new ways to pamper someone you’ve been with for 10 years and it’s even harder to pamper a 6-year old boy who changes his mind every 17 minutes. But I try. I try to make them their favorite meals whenever I can. I try to do little things for them that will make them smile or let them know that I’ve noticed. I do what I can because they deserve it, I love them and it’s my job.
Happy Birthday my husband. I hope this next year is full of hope, the best kind of surprises, success, health and happiness for you.
9/26/09
Happy Birthday Sweetest Boy!
Six years ago today at 8:47pm, The Boy was born. I had gone in to my OB for my weekly appointment in the morning, feeling huge, but fine. Knowing that my due date was the next day and wondering if I had made any progress at all or if all of those pesky Braxton Hicks contractions were just there to get my adrenaline pumping. I was excited and exhausted all at the same time. Mostly though, I was expecting her to check me, find everything to be as it should be and to send me home with a “see you next week!”
Instead, this is the conversation that followed:
OB: “How are you feeling?”
Me: “Very pregnant, but fine.”
OB: “That’s not what this says.” (Eyeing my chart with a wary glance.)
Me: “Oh really?”
OB: “Yeah. You’re spilling protein and your blood pressure is through the roof. You’re having a baby today.”
To say that I was shocked doesn’t even begin to cover it. I truly felt fine. Not the blurred vision, painful, totally out of it that preeclampsia and high blood pressure should have been making me feel. So she gave us instructions to go to the hospital, that they would be expecting me and that they would start induction immediately and she’d be by to see me in a couple of hours to break my water. And off we went.
I called my mom to share the news and she got in the car immediately. I called our friends and my husband’s parents and brother. We luckily already had my bag packed and in the car so off to the hospital we went. I was nervous beyond belief. I was not at all prepared for being induced. I was not at all prepared to walk into the Labor and Delivery ward not in active labor. This was entirely outside of my expectations.
But eight and half hours later, The Boy entered the world. There were moments I thought I would never make it. But I did (thanks in huge part to my amazing husband). He was big, beautiful, unbelievably strong and hungry. And he still is. Happy 6th Birthday my sweetest boy!
Instead, this is the conversation that followed:
OB: “How are you feeling?”
Me: “Very pregnant, but fine.”
OB: “That’s not what this says.” (Eyeing my chart with a wary glance.)
Me: “Oh really?”
OB: “Yeah. You’re spilling protein and your blood pressure is through the roof. You’re having a baby today.”
To say that I was shocked doesn’t even begin to cover it. I truly felt fine. Not the blurred vision, painful, totally out of it that preeclampsia and high blood pressure should have been making me feel. So she gave us instructions to go to the hospital, that they would be expecting me and that they would start induction immediately and she’d be by to see me in a couple of hours to break my water. And off we went.
I called my mom to share the news and she got in the car immediately. I called our friends and my husband’s parents and brother. We luckily already had my bag packed and in the car so off to the hospital we went. I was nervous beyond belief. I was not at all prepared for being induced. I was not at all prepared to walk into the Labor and Delivery ward not in active labor. This was entirely outside of my expectations.
But eight and half hours later, The Boy entered the world. There were moments I thought I would never make it. But I did (thanks in huge part to my amazing husband). He was big, beautiful, unbelievably strong and hungry. And he still is. Happy 6th Birthday my sweetest boy!
9/25/09
Thoughts on the Future
Every time I look up it seems like another month is gone. So as I am heading into the last quarter of this year, I naturally have started thinking about the end to this project. I’ve really grown to love being forced to write every day. So I have been trying to think about what I’ll do when my 365 days are over. Trying to figure out how I could still have some sort of commitment to keep my writing going but something that will kick it all up a notch so to speak.
One of my favorite things about this whole project has been the symmetry of it. I love the numerical constraint. It forces me to focus within the word confinement. But I’ve gotten really good at it. I know how to manipulate my writing to achieve the word count and I’ve gotten much better at allowing my writing to be as raw as it gets while staying true to myself. I have let myself just put it out there for better or for worse. That in and of itself is huge for me. Before I started this blog I hardly ever let anyone read my writing, let alone broadcast it on the internets for everyone to find and trip across.
So I’ve been trying to figure out how to push my bravery even farther. And, at the same time, how to push my writing. Because even though I know you’ve all loved the year long, in-depth guided tour of my deepest, darkest neuroses, I’d love to be able to write about more than my day-to-day life. I’d love to take some risks and see what I can really do. And while I would love to go to grad school post haste, there is just no way to make that work right now. So I thought maybe I could put myself through some sort of boot camp.
I’ve got a couple of ideas percolating, but I thought I’d throw it out there for you as well. I’m blessed with some pretty incredible writers who read this blog, and I’d love to hear from you! Have any ideas for where to take my writing next?
One of my favorite things about this whole project has been the symmetry of it. I love the numerical constraint. It forces me to focus within the word confinement. But I’ve gotten really good at it. I know how to manipulate my writing to achieve the word count and I’ve gotten much better at allowing my writing to be as raw as it gets while staying true to myself. I have let myself just put it out there for better or for worse. That in and of itself is huge for me. Before I started this blog I hardly ever let anyone read my writing, let alone broadcast it on the internets for everyone to find and trip across.
So I’ve been trying to figure out how to push my bravery even farther. And, at the same time, how to push my writing. Because even though I know you’ve all loved the year long, in-depth guided tour of my deepest, darkest neuroses, I’d love to be able to write about more than my day-to-day life. I’d love to take some risks and see what I can really do. And while I would love to go to grad school post haste, there is just no way to make that work right now. So I thought maybe I could put myself through some sort of boot camp.
I’ve got a couple of ideas percolating, but I thought I’d throw it out there for you as well. I’m blessed with some pretty incredible writers who read this blog, and I’d love to hear from you! Have any ideas for where to take my writing next?
9/24/09
Premier Week
It’s premier week. And that makes me pretty darn happy. It’s sort of like starting a new book full of your favorite characters (speaking of favorite characters in books, Dan Brown has a new Robert Langdon book that I’m totally stoked about). There were a couple of new shows that I got totally addicted to last season, so I’m especially looking forward to their return.
Sons of Anarchy started last week. Going into its second year, it’s far and away the one I was most looking forward to. Which probably seems weird. I mean, it’s a show about an old school motorcycle gang that is violent and illegal and mean. They do awful things to people and those things inspire other people to do even more awful things back to them. But the writing is brilliant. The characters are utterly intriguing and I’ve always had a soft spot for bad boys. Plus Charlie Hunam is hot, I love Katey Sagal and Ron Perlman is just fun to watch.
Also? There’s Castle. I could watch Nathan Fillion fix a light bulb and call it perfect TV. I just flat love the guy and he can do no wrong in my eyes. Which is a good thing because this show is not really all that good. His co-star, Stana Katic, is sorta funny and smart, but pretty much the whole show revolves around (and works because of) Nathan Fillion. And even though I’d much rather watch his talents be utilized in a way that is much more befitting of his talent, I’ll take what I can get.
Then of course there are the returning favorites, Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice, Bones, House, Heroes, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory and Numbers as well as a few others (that I would also name but I just noticed how long the list is and I’m suddenly very self-conscious).
And Chuck and LOST will be back after the beginning of the year.
There are a few new ones this year as well, although none that I’ve been impressed with enough to really give that much thought to so far.
Time to put the Netflix account on hold again.
Sons of Anarchy started last week. Going into its second year, it’s far and away the one I was most looking forward to. Which probably seems weird. I mean, it’s a show about an old school motorcycle gang that is violent and illegal and mean. They do awful things to people and those things inspire other people to do even more awful things back to them. But the writing is brilliant. The characters are utterly intriguing and I’ve always had a soft spot for bad boys. Plus Charlie Hunam is hot, I love Katey Sagal and Ron Perlman is just fun to watch.
Also? There’s Castle. I could watch Nathan Fillion fix a light bulb and call it perfect TV. I just flat love the guy and he can do no wrong in my eyes. Which is a good thing because this show is not really all that good. His co-star, Stana Katic, is sorta funny and smart, but pretty much the whole show revolves around (and works because of) Nathan Fillion. And even though I’d much rather watch his talents be utilized in a way that is much more befitting of his talent, I’ll take what I can get.
Then of course there are the returning favorites, Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice, Bones, House, Heroes, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory and Numbers as well as a few others (that I would also name but I just noticed how long the list is and I’m suddenly very self-conscious).
And Chuck and LOST will be back after the beginning of the year.
There are a few new ones this year as well, although none that I’ve been impressed with enough to really give that much thought to so far.
Time to put the Netflix account on hold again.
9/23/09 - Stewy Perfection
**Sorry this is late!! I got my ass handed to me yesterday by either a migraine or the plague and I just couldn't drag myself to my laptop.**
As a self-professed foodie there are several dishes that I’ve been trying to perfect for several years. They’re mostly down home comfort foods. I’m pretty sure it’s my Nebraska roots coming to the surface that I don’t really care all that much if I ever perfect Beef Bourguignon or Mole , but I care deeply about the state of my chicken fried steak with perfect country gravy and I take my lasagna very personally. So you can start to understand why I could get so excited to tell you that I think I’ve finally nailed the perfect beef stew recipe.
I’ve seriously been working on this one for at least 8 years and it’s different every single time I make it. I’ve tried everything from letting its simmer all day to starting with already tender, perfect cuts of meat for a quick thrown together stew. Everything from a whole bottle of wine and orange peel to homemade beef broth and a whole head of roasted garlic. Although knowing me as you do by now, it should not come as a shock to find out that the recipe nearing perfection is somewhere in between all of this (well except for the orange, I pulled that out entirely at my family’s request).
The only tweak left is to get it a bit thicker (to appease my husband who is obsessed with super thick stew) and tone down the acid from the wine a bit. I think if I just up the quantity of flour for the roux and throw in a pinch or two of sugar at the same time I add the veggies, I should be able to leap both hurdles in a single bound. And to solve my loathing of cooked carrots, I’m not adding the veggies until about 30 minutes before the whole thing is done that way they lend their flavor and sweetness without turning into nasty little pucks of mush in my mouth. Throw in peas, mushrooms and potatoes and it’s hard to get much heartier than that on a cold day.
I think my Grandmother would be proud. Now I’m ready to move on to my next conquest – macaroni and cheese.
As a self-professed foodie there are several dishes that I’ve been trying to perfect for several years. They’re mostly down home comfort foods. I’m pretty sure it’s my Nebraska roots coming to the surface that I don’t really care all that much if I ever perfect Beef Bourguignon or Mole , but I care deeply about the state of my chicken fried steak with perfect country gravy and I take my lasagna very personally. So you can start to understand why I could get so excited to tell you that I think I’ve finally nailed the perfect beef stew recipe.
I’ve seriously been working on this one for at least 8 years and it’s different every single time I make it. I’ve tried everything from letting its simmer all day to starting with already tender, perfect cuts of meat for a quick thrown together stew. Everything from a whole bottle of wine and orange peel to homemade beef broth and a whole head of roasted garlic. Although knowing me as you do by now, it should not come as a shock to find out that the recipe nearing perfection is somewhere in between all of this (well except for the orange, I pulled that out entirely at my family’s request).
The only tweak left is to get it a bit thicker (to appease my husband who is obsessed with super thick stew) and tone down the acid from the wine a bit. I think if I just up the quantity of flour for the roux and throw in a pinch or two of sugar at the same time I add the veggies, I should be able to leap both hurdles in a single bound. And to solve my loathing of cooked carrots, I’m not adding the veggies until about 30 minutes before the whole thing is done that way they lend their flavor and sweetness without turning into nasty little pucks of mush in my mouth. Throw in peas, mushrooms and potatoes and it’s hard to get much heartier than that on a cold day.
I think my Grandmother would be proud. Now I’m ready to move on to my next conquest – macaroni and cheese.
9/22/09
Language Arts
They always say that teaching something is the best way to really know it. But I can honestly say that I am not a good teacher. I was trying to do homework with The Boy tonight (my husband turned over the language arts section to me since words are my thing) and I found myself off on this tangent about punctuation and declarative vs. interrogative sentences and by the time I realized how far I had strayed from the path The Boy was looking at me as if I had truly lost my mind. It was pretty funny actually and just totally drove home the fact that I suck at teaching.
I started to realize this last year when The Boy was trying to learn how to read in Kindergarten. As you may remember he was having a hell of a time and I just could not figure out why. All things words have always come so easily to me that I just don’t get it when they don’t do the same thing for everyone else. And because they’ve always just sort of clicked for me, I don’t have the foggiest idea of how to break the whole thing down for someone else either. This fact in particular poses quite the problem when one is attempting to help their almost 6 year old son with beginning sentence structure.
Although in my defense the instructions on his worksheet were in all reality meant for the teacher. I mean there’s no way that someone could expect a first grader to read the instructions “Determine whether each sentence is declarative or interrogative and then add the correct punctuation mark.” I just took the material in front of me and ran with it. My guess is that these worksheets were meant to be done mostly out loud in class, but what with his school being closed for the last several days his teacher just sent the whole thing home with him.
She probably had no idea that one of her student’s mothers would be a crazy word freak hell bent on teaching her son the finer points of the English language before he could wrap his brain around it.
I started to realize this last year when The Boy was trying to learn how to read in Kindergarten. As you may remember he was having a hell of a time and I just could not figure out why. All things words have always come so easily to me that I just don’t get it when they don’t do the same thing for everyone else. And because they’ve always just sort of clicked for me, I don’t have the foggiest idea of how to break the whole thing down for someone else either. This fact in particular poses quite the problem when one is attempting to help their almost 6 year old son with beginning sentence structure.
Although in my defense the instructions on his worksheet were in all reality meant for the teacher. I mean there’s no way that someone could expect a first grader to read the instructions “Determine whether each sentence is declarative or interrogative and then add the correct punctuation mark.” I just took the material in front of me and ran with it. My guess is that these worksheets were meant to be done mostly out loud in class, but what with his school being closed for the last several days his teacher just sent the whole thing home with him.
She probably had no idea that one of her student’s mothers would be a crazy word freak hell bent on teaching her son the finer points of the English language before he could wrap his brain around it.
9/21/09
Post-Movie Deep Thoughts
I took the kids to see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs today. This story in particular is really tied to a very specific piece of my childhood. Our Wyoming friend, J, used to create books on tape for children’s books and this one was my absolute favorite one. I think he may even have “cast” me to read a couple of lines once, and that was a thrill to be sure. It is just such a fantastically heartfelt story that really ignited my imagination on so many levels.
There was the obvious question of what food would I have ordered from the machine? What would I love more than anything to have super sized? What would a gigantic meatball actually look like? And the biggest question, would food that big still taste good?
But sitting there watching it today, and sobbing at the end, it brought a whole different set of imaginings with it. The entire central theme of unrequited and malnourished dreams and relationships really struck a chord with me. I mean, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I was a ridiculous crying puddle at the end purely because I’m just generally really emotionally raw right now. But regardless of my emotional stability at the moment, it’s a potent message that bears consideration.
I worry on a regular basis that because our financial situation won’t allow us to put the kids in extracurricular activities that I am shortchanging them from discovering their passions. I also worry that because I’m so not an artsy crafty type of mom, that I’m also taking those opportunities to create away from them. My children know that I love them fiercely, but I often wonder if they will grow up and tell stories of their childhood that sound like “yeah, my mom loved us a lot, but…” and that scares me. But at the same time I’m not entirely sure how to stop it.
I know that there will always be something lacking from every childhood in retrospect, I guess I just hope for my children that it won’t be something that I could have so easily provided if I’d been just a little more aware.
There was the obvious question of what food would I have ordered from the machine? What would I love more than anything to have super sized? What would a gigantic meatball actually look like? And the biggest question, would food that big still taste good?
But sitting there watching it today, and sobbing at the end, it brought a whole different set of imaginings with it. The entire central theme of unrequited and malnourished dreams and relationships really struck a chord with me. I mean, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I was a ridiculous crying puddle at the end purely because I’m just generally really emotionally raw right now. But regardless of my emotional stability at the moment, it’s a potent message that bears consideration.
I worry on a regular basis that because our financial situation won’t allow us to put the kids in extracurricular activities that I am shortchanging them from discovering their passions. I also worry that because I’m so not an artsy crafty type of mom, that I’m also taking those opportunities to create away from them. My children know that I love them fiercely, but I often wonder if they will grow up and tell stories of their childhood that sound like “yeah, my mom loved us a lot, but…” and that scares me. But at the same time I’m not entirely sure how to stop it.
I know that there will always be something lacking from every childhood in retrospect, I guess I just hope for my children that it won’t be something that I could have so easily provided if I’d been just a little more aware.
9/20/09
Nightmares
I sometimes feel like I’m not very good at this whole day-to-day life thing. It just feels like my process for living is just not all that compatible with the rest of the world’s population. Or maybe I’m just totally thrown off-kilter today because of the horrifically bad nightmare I had early this morning that I just can’t quite get away from.
It wasn’t one of those dreams where you wake up screaming or sweating or even bolt straight upright in bed. I just simply opened my eyes but the images were so vivid and so awful that they still flowed in front of my eyes. And I realized that I was awake and it was indeed just a dream and when I tried to go back to sleep the dream just kept going, in my waking mind. Going back over the worst parts again and again. I dreamt that The Boy was killed in a truly frightening way. And I was there, watching the whole thing. And the two points that stuck out the most was the sheer quantity of blood and the absolute feeling of desolation after I knew, in my dream, that he was gone forever.
I haven’t had a dream like this since I was pregnant with The Girl. That’s actually usually the only time I ever have dreams like this is when I’m pregnant, but since that is definitely not the case right now I’m going to have to chalk it up to stress and my subconscious wanting to supplement my waking stress with some dreaming stress.
When the kids came in to wake us up, The Boy crawled in next to me and I immediately started crying. Am still crying looking at him now as he’s playing superheroes with The Girl on the floor with NFL Countdown on in the background. I just can’t quite seem to shrug off the sorrow of this dream.
Which is really screwing with my plan for today to bring myself back from the solitude seeking, brain candy book immersed, disengaged place that I’ve been in for the last several days. This dream makes me want to crawl right back in with renewed commitment.
It wasn’t one of those dreams where you wake up screaming or sweating or even bolt straight upright in bed. I just simply opened my eyes but the images were so vivid and so awful that they still flowed in front of my eyes. And I realized that I was awake and it was indeed just a dream and when I tried to go back to sleep the dream just kept going, in my waking mind. Going back over the worst parts again and again. I dreamt that The Boy was killed in a truly frightening way. And I was there, watching the whole thing. And the two points that stuck out the most was the sheer quantity of blood and the absolute feeling of desolation after I knew, in my dream, that he was gone forever.
I haven’t had a dream like this since I was pregnant with The Girl. That’s actually usually the only time I ever have dreams like this is when I’m pregnant, but since that is definitely not the case right now I’m going to have to chalk it up to stress and my subconscious wanting to supplement my waking stress with some dreaming stress.
When the kids came in to wake us up, The Boy crawled in next to me and I immediately started crying. Am still crying looking at him now as he’s playing superheroes with The Girl on the floor with NFL Countdown on in the background. I just can’t quite seem to shrug off the sorrow of this dream.
Which is really screwing with my plan for today to bring myself back from the solitude seeking, brain candy book immersed, disengaged place that I’ve been in for the last several days. This dream makes me want to crawl right back in with renewed commitment.
9/19/09
The Chicken and The Egg
I’ve been thinking about confidence quite a bit lately. Wondering how important it really is to overall success in life. What’s the balance, if there is one, between pure talent and confidence in that talent. Which comes first? I know it’s a chicken and egg sort of question which after much debate you realize it doesn’t really matter which came first as long as they’re both there. But equally as important is that you cannot have one without the other.
I wonder if that dependence plays a bigger part than most realize. I really wish that I knew whether Charles Dickens or Gustav Klimt or David Sedaris or Margaret Atwood had the kind of overwhelming confidence that kept them going through rejection or writer’s block or running out of paint. I wonder if they had the utmost confidence in their abilities or if they just kept going because it was all they could do. That their need to create was completely outside the realm of caring whether or not they were appreciated or noticed or judged as good.
Because I have always been my worst critic. Because I’ve always been the one to hold myself back when it comes to pretty much everything. I pigeon-holed my writing into research based forms because they are widely accepted (and marketable) and I knew that I was good at it. Plus it’s pretty easy not to take it personally when you don’t get a grant because while the writing is important, mostly it’s all about the foundation and the proposed project.
Sometimes I think I might have epic stories in me, vast adventures swirling with romance and intrigue. But then I sit down to write, trying to put down any preconceptions or assumptions and just give myself the freedom to write what’s there. And the wisps of characters and distant vistas start to fade in the face of confrontation. And I wish I had the balls to demand that they line back up front and center. To forbid them from scattering like mice when a light flips on.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to let the possibility of my talent share the room with the whisper of confidence.
I wonder if that dependence plays a bigger part than most realize. I really wish that I knew whether Charles Dickens or Gustav Klimt or David Sedaris or Margaret Atwood had the kind of overwhelming confidence that kept them going through rejection or writer’s block or running out of paint. I wonder if they had the utmost confidence in their abilities or if they just kept going because it was all they could do. That their need to create was completely outside the realm of caring whether or not they were appreciated or noticed or judged as good.
Because I have always been my worst critic. Because I’ve always been the one to hold myself back when it comes to pretty much everything. I pigeon-holed my writing into research based forms because they are widely accepted (and marketable) and I knew that I was good at it. Plus it’s pretty easy not to take it personally when you don’t get a grant because while the writing is important, mostly it’s all about the foundation and the proposed project.
Sometimes I think I might have epic stories in me, vast adventures swirling with romance and intrigue. But then I sit down to write, trying to put down any preconceptions or assumptions and just give myself the freedom to write what’s there. And the wisps of characters and distant vistas start to fade in the face of confrontation. And I wish I had the balls to demand that they line back up front and center. To forbid them from scattering like mice when a light flips on.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to let the possibility of my talent share the room with the whisper of confidence.
9/18/09
Rollercoaster Ride
Today has been an up and down sort of day. I’ve been struggling the past several days with this whole bankruptcy thing. I welcome and cannot wait to embrace the clean slate of freedom it will bring us, but it’s still filing for bankruptcy you know? I still see it as a failure on my part to protect and provide for my family regardless of how irrational or untrue that may be. So I’ve pretty much handed the whole process over to my husband, thinking perhaps if he takes it under his wing perhaps he can shepherd it into a much safer port than I’m capable of. So I’ve been working mightily to strike some sort of balance between curbing my needless self-berating and staying as present with whatever arises as possible. I was already failing in that pursuit today when it was time to take The Girl to the doctor this morning.
I fully expected this appointment to be nothing more than a 10 minute in and out visit so that we could touch base with her doc on her asthma management. I’ve been pretty happy with our progress so far. Her doctor came in and we chatted and caught up a bit and then he dutifully listened to her lungs and heart. Got quiet, flipped through her electronic chart and said that she had a heart murmur and wanted us to get in to see a pediatric cardiologist as soon as we could. I adore this doctor for many, many reasons and one of them is because through everything we’ve been through with The Girl he has always been there to keep me grounded if by no other means than he sees so much worse the majority of his days. But today he looked at me and said he was worried.
The rest of my day has been lost to a haze. A haze of fear and uncertainty with me somewhere in the background attempting to bring myself back down to some sort of rational level. Because really we don’t know anything. Just that we need to follow up on these newly presented symptoms.
And so we will. And I’ll keep you posted.
I fully expected this appointment to be nothing more than a 10 minute in and out visit so that we could touch base with her doc on her asthma management. I’ve been pretty happy with our progress so far. Her doctor came in and we chatted and caught up a bit and then he dutifully listened to her lungs and heart. Got quiet, flipped through her electronic chart and said that she had a heart murmur and wanted us to get in to see a pediatric cardiologist as soon as we could. I adore this doctor for many, many reasons and one of them is because through everything we’ve been through with The Girl he has always been there to keep me grounded if by no other means than he sees so much worse the majority of his days. But today he looked at me and said he was worried.
The rest of my day has been lost to a haze. A haze of fear and uncertainty with me somewhere in the background attempting to bring myself back down to some sort of rational level. Because really we don’t know anything. Just that we need to follow up on these newly presented symptoms.
And so we will. And I’ll keep you posted.
9/17/09
Pedantics
There are a whole slew of pedantic things I could write about today. Like the fact that we retained the services of a lawyer today and that in another week we’ll be officially filing with the court system for Chapter 7 Bankruptcy.
Or the fact that The Boy’s school got shut down today because half of the student body has been absent all week exhibiting “flu-like symptoms.” And that it will stay shut down until next Wednesday as they do a top to bottom sanitization of the entire building and hope that having the kids out of contact with each other for a week will stop the contagion cycle. And me wondering what the hell I am going to do with my children for the next week (with little to no spending money) with no school for The Boy who is now utterly accustomed to being engaged just about every minute of every day.
Or the fact that The Girl has had two solid days of throw herself down, scream and throw things prime of her 3-year old life temper tantrums. I was just beginning to think that perhaps I had escaped the 3’s with her, at least to the extent that The Boy had tortured me throughout his 3rd year of life. And then two days in a row she’s had utter and complete meltdowns to the point where I could not take her out in public. All I could do was sit her in her room and let her go. Whatever she needed to do in order to extract herself from screaming banshee mode and back into sweet little girl mode.
Or the fact that I am so completely focused on hiding from my own emotional ramifications of this whole bankruptcy thing that I’ve totally tuned the rest of the world out. My husband worriedly touched base with me last night; attempting to make sure everything was ok. And I’m not entirely sure how “I’m fine, I just don’t really want to talk to or see anyone right now, I just want to read” could be reassuring. But I think he knows me well enough by now to know I’ll be back soon.
Or the fact that The Boy’s school got shut down today because half of the student body has been absent all week exhibiting “flu-like symptoms.” And that it will stay shut down until next Wednesday as they do a top to bottom sanitization of the entire building and hope that having the kids out of contact with each other for a week will stop the contagion cycle. And me wondering what the hell I am going to do with my children for the next week (with little to no spending money) with no school for The Boy who is now utterly accustomed to being engaged just about every minute of every day.
Or the fact that The Girl has had two solid days of throw herself down, scream and throw things prime of her 3-year old life temper tantrums. I was just beginning to think that perhaps I had escaped the 3’s with her, at least to the extent that The Boy had tortured me throughout his 3rd year of life. And then two days in a row she’s had utter and complete meltdowns to the point where I could not take her out in public. All I could do was sit her in her room and let her go. Whatever she needed to do in order to extract herself from screaming banshee mode and back into sweet little girl mode.
Or the fact that I am so completely focused on hiding from my own emotional ramifications of this whole bankruptcy thing that I’ve totally tuned the rest of the world out. My husband worriedly touched base with me last night; attempting to make sure everything was ok. And I’m not entirely sure how “I’m fine, I just don’t really want to talk to or see anyone right now, I just want to read” could be reassuring. But I think he knows me well enough by now to know I’ll be back soon.
9/16/09
Solitude Please
For as long as I can remember I have craved solitude. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love to be with the people I love and often at that. I love to be fully immersed into a social setting chock full of laughter and cavorting, story-telling and conversation. It’s good for my soul to see my own joy reflected in the faces of those dearest to me and I love to be their mirror as well.
But alone time has always been at the root of my sanity. I need the time to decompress and/or process life and the world around me. I’m not much of a think on my feet kind of girl. I’m more of a think it all through, every last detail, and then stride out into the world at large kind of girl. And because my own internal processes are probably more complicated than they ought to be, I need this kind of alone time on a pretty regular basis. I knew yesterday that I was in need of a solid chunk of peace and quiet when I picked up the Twilight series again (this will be the fifth time). And that knowledge solidified today because every time The Girl shadowed my every move I was overcome with a distinct feeling of annoyance instead of patient acceptance.
Life currently has dealt me yet another shift. Another step stands in front of me demanding to be conquered and learned from. And I’ve gotten strong enough this year that I’m welcoming the opportunity to build yet more strength and experience. But I’ve also learned that I need to do preparations so that I can climb with finesse and purpose instead of just blindly throwing myself at the task at hand. So that I can remain grounded in the moment instead of getting strung out on the future; what lies after getting over the current hurdle.
We’re meeting with the bankruptcy lawyer again tomorrow. This time to retain his services. I am looking forward to the opportunity to exchange this burden with the freedom to make different choices. I truly am. But I thought a little extra calisthenics training with Edward wouldn’t hurt first.
But alone time has always been at the root of my sanity. I need the time to decompress and/or process life and the world around me. I’m not much of a think on my feet kind of girl. I’m more of a think it all through, every last detail, and then stride out into the world at large kind of girl. And because my own internal processes are probably more complicated than they ought to be, I need this kind of alone time on a pretty regular basis. I knew yesterday that I was in need of a solid chunk of peace and quiet when I picked up the Twilight series again (this will be the fifth time). And that knowledge solidified today because every time The Girl shadowed my every move I was overcome with a distinct feeling of annoyance instead of patient acceptance.
Life currently has dealt me yet another shift. Another step stands in front of me demanding to be conquered and learned from. And I’ve gotten strong enough this year that I’m welcoming the opportunity to build yet more strength and experience. But I’ve also learned that I need to do preparations so that I can climb with finesse and purpose instead of just blindly throwing myself at the task at hand. So that I can remain grounded in the moment instead of getting strung out on the future; what lies after getting over the current hurdle.
We’re meeting with the bankruptcy lawyer again tomorrow. This time to retain his services. I am looking forward to the opportunity to exchange this burden with the freedom to make different choices. I truly am. But I thought a little extra calisthenics training with Edward wouldn’t hurt first.
9/15/09
Day of Gratitude
I am in a strange space today. Part overwhelming gratitude and part wistful I think is the best way to describe it.
As I have well (and long) documented here, this has been a fairly shitty year by all normal standards. What with The Girl and the multiple pneumonia’s, the seizure, the hospitalization, The Boy really struggling with school, my mom’s heart attack, my husband and I trying to figure out what we want the next phase of our marriage to look like, The Boy’s concussion and our imminent filing for bankruptcy looming on the horizon. And so many other things that drug me down into the muck of the daily grind.
And believe me, I’ve spent my fair share of the last 9 months shaking my fists at the sky and cussing loudly. And drinking. And smoking (I’ve quit again by the way). And cussing some more.
But today, even in the face of a gigantic life change right in front of me, I am just filled with this all-encompassing gratitude. I am so grateful that we have The Girl’s asthma under control and she is healthy. I am so grateful that The Boy is loving school and doing so well in it. I am so grateful for my friends; the old, the new and the ones in progress. I am so grateful for my parents’ support through all of this, it would have been so easy to just shake their heads in my general direction and wait for me to get back to normal. I am so grateful for my husband’s parents who have been so thoroughly supportive from afar, who quite literally have made our next steps possible.
And I am wistful because I am hoping against all hope that I can get through whatever is next with my head held high and my lessons learned intact. I am hoping that I can continue to prove to these people who enrich my life so completely that I am worthy of their belief, support, compassion and love. I am hoping that I can continue to show my children how to face adversity with determination and a smile always waiting in your back pocket.
As I have well (and long) documented here, this has been a fairly shitty year by all normal standards. What with The Girl and the multiple pneumonia’s, the seizure, the hospitalization, The Boy really struggling with school, my mom’s heart attack, my husband and I trying to figure out what we want the next phase of our marriage to look like, The Boy’s concussion and our imminent filing for bankruptcy looming on the horizon. And so many other things that drug me down into the muck of the daily grind.
And believe me, I’ve spent my fair share of the last 9 months shaking my fists at the sky and cussing loudly. And drinking. And smoking (I’ve quit again by the way). And cussing some more.
But today, even in the face of a gigantic life change right in front of me, I am just filled with this all-encompassing gratitude. I am so grateful that we have The Girl’s asthma under control and she is healthy. I am so grateful that The Boy is loving school and doing so well in it. I am so grateful for my friends; the old, the new and the ones in progress. I am so grateful for my parents’ support through all of this, it would have been so easy to just shake their heads in my general direction and wait for me to get back to normal. I am so grateful for my husband’s parents who have been so thoroughly supportive from afar, who quite literally have made our next steps possible.
And I am wistful because I am hoping against all hope that I can get through whatever is next with my head held high and my lessons learned intact. I am hoping that I can continue to prove to these people who enrich my life so completely that I am worthy of their belief, support, compassion and love. I am hoping that I can continue to show my children how to face adversity with determination and a smile always waiting in your back pocket.
9/14/09
Reconnection
I cannot tell you how much I am loving reconnecting with old friends. Reestablishing friendships with people that I was always friendly with, but perhaps not the closest of friends. And now we have the chance to get to know each other all over again as the people we are now. As professionals and parents and whatever else we may find ourselves being and doing. It’s just such a gift to be able to have these people with whom I have history and be able to extend that history beyond what parties we went to on Saturday nights or what we wore or what boy or girl screwed us over. It’s just so lovely to be able to vault these friendships into the current day without losing the history.
I am such a radically different person now than I was in high school and college (and other than the tire around my waist and spreading childbearing hips, it’s all for the better). And for a while when I was coming back into contact with old friends I worried that they would see the me I am now and wish for the me I was then. But I’m finding that we’re almost entirely able to just take each other where we are now, for who we are now, while still remaining grounded in the history we’ve shared. There is just really something about having known someone for 15 years or more that provides a foundation that is so safe.
I love to watch these people be parents. I love to watch their kiddos who look so much like them test them and push them in new and different ways; I love to watch them laugh with their children and significant others. I love to talk about big world events now that we have all travelled and studied and expanded our world views. I love to see how our experiences and loves and sorrows and passions have shaped us.
I just have such deep gratitude for the chance to renew friendships with people I thought I’d never see again. To be given the opportunity to relish in shared history as we watch our children create their own.
I am such a radically different person now than I was in high school and college (and other than the tire around my waist and spreading childbearing hips, it’s all for the better). And for a while when I was coming back into contact with old friends I worried that they would see the me I am now and wish for the me I was then. But I’m finding that we’re almost entirely able to just take each other where we are now, for who we are now, while still remaining grounded in the history we’ve shared. There is just really something about having known someone for 15 years or more that provides a foundation that is so safe.
I love to watch these people be parents. I love to watch their kiddos who look so much like them test them and push them in new and different ways; I love to watch them laugh with their children and significant others. I love to talk about big world events now that we have all travelled and studied and expanded our world views. I love to see how our experiences and loves and sorrows and passions have shaped us.
I just have such deep gratitude for the chance to renew friendships with people I thought I’d never see again. To be given the opportunity to relish in shared history as we watch our children create their own.
9/13/09
Football and a Birthday Party
Alright. I got nothin’ today. I woke up with a pounding headache this morning and it has been with me all day in varying degrees. I’ve got some serious allergies kicking my ass and I’m just generally not in a great mood today.
Today is the kickoff to the fantasy football season and my star quarterback, whom I’ve loved long time, had a crappy day. The one star running back that I have also had a crappy day. My kicker didn’t put up any points at all. Right now my defense is the only component of my entire fantasy team putting up any points at all and that’s because they are playing the Bears offense which has yet to figure out how to play as a team. All three of my rookies either didn’t play or had crappy days. It’s just been a crappy day all around. Except for my backup quarterback who had a killer day and was, of course, benched.
I took the kids to a birthday party today and that was fun. Although as the kids get older I’ve noticed that the back yard parties have started to get more and more out of hand both in volume and activity level. All of these boys who have known each other since they started walking are now getting huge and powerful and loud. But as always, it was lovely to see this particular set of friends and I always love to see what sort of cake C is going to make for his children. Today he made a Millennium Falcon and two X-wings while his sister added an R2-D2 to the mix. It’s really very impressive. I think they should totally do it as a side venture. And E is still gorgeous and glowing in her pregnancy. The kids passed out in the car on the way home, which was a nice surprise. So my husband and I get the evening to ourselves to watch the season finale of True Blood and the football game.
My head is still pounding, but it was a good day all in all. Even though my beloved Peyton temporarily forgot how to play the game of football.
Today is the kickoff to the fantasy football season and my star quarterback, whom I’ve loved long time, had a crappy day. The one star running back that I have also had a crappy day. My kicker didn’t put up any points at all. Right now my defense is the only component of my entire fantasy team putting up any points at all and that’s because they are playing the Bears offense which has yet to figure out how to play as a team. All three of my rookies either didn’t play or had crappy days. It’s just been a crappy day all around. Except for my backup quarterback who had a killer day and was, of course, benched.
I took the kids to a birthday party today and that was fun. Although as the kids get older I’ve noticed that the back yard parties have started to get more and more out of hand both in volume and activity level. All of these boys who have known each other since they started walking are now getting huge and powerful and loud. But as always, it was lovely to see this particular set of friends and I always love to see what sort of cake C is going to make for his children. Today he made a Millennium Falcon and two X-wings while his sister added an R2-D2 to the mix. It’s really very impressive. I think they should totally do it as a side venture. And E is still gorgeous and glowing in her pregnancy. The kids passed out in the car on the way home, which was a nice surprise. So my husband and I get the evening to ourselves to watch the season finale of True Blood and the football game.
My head is still pounding, but it was a good day all in all. Even though my beloved Peyton temporarily forgot how to play the game of football.
9/12/09 - Wanna be my friend?
**Sorry this is late - I was totally wiped yesterday after Garage Sale Day 2 and went to bed without posting.**
I’m really not very good at developing friendships. Once I am in them, I’m a pretty good friend. I do a pretty good job of keeping in touch and letting the people I love know that I’m thinking about them. But when I get into new friendships, I’m not so good. Mostly I think because I lack confidence. I always end up feeling like I’m imposing in some way or another. So I often find myself taking a back seat in the friendship and waiting for them to come to me. Which, I’m fairly sure, ends up sending mixed signals to those with whom I’m trying to strike up a friendship. They probably find themselves thinking I’m unreliable or finicky or some other inconsistent sort of personality trait. But really it’s just that I can’t quite fully bring myself to believe that they would want me around.
Yes. I’m fully aware how silly I sound. How juvenile and ridiculous. But it’s the truth nonetheless.
There are a few women in this mom’s group I’ve been a part of for years that I would love to know better and I’m sure they think I’m flaky as hell because I always tell them how much I enjoy hanging out with them and then I never call or email or follow through with setting up further play dates. They just seem so much cooler than I am.
It’s a strange thing. That I can be so confident in my skills as a mother and professional. As a person in general and then all of that confidence just fails me in new friendships. I suppose I could look at it as I value the people in my life so greatly, that I think so much of them that I try to hold myself to that same standard. That how much I love and appreciate them, makes me want to be a better friend to them.
And that is true. I just sort of wish I could take the confidence component out of it altogether. That I could just be with people as well as I can just be with myself and my family. It would be so much easier.
I’m really not very good at developing friendships. Once I am in them, I’m a pretty good friend. I do a pretty good job of keeping in touch and letting the people I love know that I’m thinking about them. But when I get into new friendships, I’m not so good. Mostly I think because I lack confidence. I always end up feeling like I’m imposing in some way or another. So I often find myself taking a back seat in the friendship and waiting for them to come to me. Which, I’m fairly sure, ends up sending mixed signals to those with whom I’m trying to strike up a friendship. They probably find themselves thinking I’m unreliable or finicky or some other inconsistent sort of personality trait. But really it’s just that I can’t quite fully bring myself to believe that they would want me around.
Yes. I’m fully aware how silly I sound. How juvenile and ridiculous. But it’s the truth nonetheless.
There are a few women in this mom’s group I’ve been a part of for years that I would love to know better and I’m sure they think I’m flaky as hell because I always tell them how much I enjoy hanging out with them and then I never call or email or follow through with setting up further play dates. They just seem so much cooler than I am.
It’s a strange thing. That I can be so confident in my skills as a mother and professional. As a person in general and then all of that confidence just fails me in new friendships. I suppose I could look at it as I value the people in my life so greatly, that I think so much of them that I try to hold myself to that same standard. That how much I love and appreciate them, makes me want to be a better friend to them.
And that is true. I just sort of wish I could take the confidence component out of it altogether. That I could just be with people as well as I can just be with myself and my family. It would be so much easier.
9/11/09
Windblown
Oy vay. Today was the first day of our garage sale. And I hoped that it would kick off with a bang. That I’d have people fighting over stuff, or at least a steady stream of lookers and buyers. Or at least decent weather for The Girl and I to sit out in the driveway all day smiling weakly at people driving by ogling our schtuff in the yard. Or at least enough people to make it worth our while.
What we got however was gale force, relentlessly cold wind. All day long. I didn’t even get half of the stuff put out because I quickly tired of having to chase knick knacks and children’s clothing across the neighbor’s lawns. I’m not a fan of wind under the best circumstances, but on this day where I needed stuff to sit still on our driveway so people could look at it and then give me money for it, this much wind had me shaking my fist at the skies and on the verge of tears.
But then I returned to my senses and remembered that weather is not personal and that it is the middle of September after all and I should have known that this was a risk having a garage sale this late in the season.
The Girl had a blast playing with toys she hasn’t seen for the past year (so they were, of course, new to her once more) and didn’t seem to mind the wind much once I got her bundled up. And if I count the ladies who came last night to paw through the bins and bins of kids’ clothes we have, we had a really good first day. So I really can’t complain that much. I’m hoping the wind dissipates over night so we can have a clear and still day tomorrow to get rid of pretty much everything that is left. I really don’t want to spend my entire weekend on the driveway.
I’m tired. And windblown. And glad that my husband will be around for day two. And really looking forward to our stay-at-home-date-night this evening featuring tasty Greek food after the kiddos go to bed.
What we got however was gale force, relentlessly cold wind. All day long. I didn’t even get half of the stuff put out because I quickly tired of having to chase knick knacks and children’s clothing across the neighbor’s lawns. I’m not a fan of wind under the best circumstances, but on this day where I needed stuff to sit still on our driveway so people could look at it and then give me money for it, this much wind had me shaking my fist at the skies and on the verge of tears.
But then I returned to my senses and remembered that weather is not personal and that it is the middle of September after all and I should have known that this was a risk having a garage sale this late in the season.
The Girl had a blast playing with toys she hasn’t seen for the past year (so they were, of course, new to her once more) and didn’t seem to mind the wind much once I got her bundled up. And if I count the ladies who came last night to paw through the bins and bins of kids’ clothes we have, we had a really good first day. So I really can’t complain that much. I’m hoping the wind dissipates over night so we can have a clear and still day tomorrow to get rid of pretty much everything that is left. I really don’t want to spend my entire weekend on the driveway.
I’m tired. And windblown. And glad that my husband will be around for day two. And really looking forward to our stay-at-home-date-night this evening featuring tasty Greek food after the kiddos go to bed.
9/10/09 - Garage Sale Time
** Sorry this is late!! I got all busy and flat forgot to post it yesterday. **
We are having a garage sale tomorrow. It is more than a year overdue. We started moving stuff earmarked for the garage sale out of the house over a year ago. We have been storing it in our garage thinking that any day we’d get our parking spots back and make some money at the same time. But thing after thing just piled up and we were no closer to selling or giving it all away and reclaiming our garage.
So I just decided last weekend that we were just going to do it. I no longer cared whether it was perfectly organized and advertised. I didn’t give a rip if it was pretty late in the “garage sale season” to be doing this. I just wanted it done. I wanted to sell what we could and make some space. I have been simultaneously dreading and looking forward to it ever since I made the decision. And to make sure I follow through with it, I started advertising for it today on Craigslist and a mom’s group forum I am a part of. The Girl and I went and got some signs today that I will ask my husband to put up around the neighborhood. This sucker is just happening.
There has always been one problem with me having garage sales, however. It’s actually sort of a two-fold problem. When I go garage-saleing I fully expect for prices to be rock bottom. I mean I come close to taking it as personal offense if I have to pay more than a few dollars for something. And I have a hard time thinking that anything I would put in my own garage sale could possible command much more than that as well. So I tend to price things extraordinarily cheaply. Which is great for moving stuff off my driveway, but not as great as it could be for, you know, actually making some money from it.
But it’s fine in the long run. If the lesson we learn from this whole bankruptcy thing is to find and embrace the beauty and freedom of simplicity, I will take cleaning out my garage as a terrific first step.
We are having a garage sale tomorrow. It is more than a year overdue. We started moving stuff earmarked for the garage sale out of the house over a year ago. We have been storing it in our garage thinking that any day we’d get our parking spots back and make some money at the same time. But thing after thing just piled up and we were no closer to selling or giving it all away and reclaiming our garage.
So I just decided last weekend that we were just going to do it. I no longer cared whether it was perfectly organized and advertised. I didn’t give a rip if it was pretty late in the “garage sale season” to be doing this. I just wanted it done. I wanted to sell what we could and make some space. I have been simultaneously dreading and looking forward to it ever since I made the decision. And to make sure I follow through with it, I started advertising for it today on Craigslist and a mom’s group forum I am a part of. The Girl and I went and got some signs today that I will ask my husband to put up around the neighborhood. This sucker is just happening.
There has always been one problem with me having garage sales, however. It’s actually sort of a two-fold problem. When I go garage-saleing I fully expect for prices to be rock bottom. I mean I come close to taking it as personal offense if I have to pay more than a few dollars for something. And I have a hard time thinking that anything I would put in my own garage sale could possible command much more than that as well. So I tend to price things extraordinarily cheaply. Which is great for moving stuff off my driveway, but not as great as it could be for, you know, actually making some money from it.
But it’s fine in the long run. If the lesson we learn from this whole bankruptcy thing is to find and embrace the beauty and freedom of simplicity, I will take cleaning out my garage as a terrific first step.
9/9/09
Wordsmithing
I was sitting at a local bar/brewery with my dearest friend E this evening, celebrating her good ultrasound news and just enjoying one of my most favorite woman friends and our conversation turned to family and childhood. She comes from a very large, very involved family and as you all know by now, I am an only child. She is the second oldest of five and her family was relatively traditional (at least compared to mine I think).
E has always been a bit shocked by the words that come out of my mouth. I think she thinks I’m a wee bit brash, maybe even a little crass. My own personal vernacular is so far outside of her day to day rhythm of speech and until tonight I think maybe she thought it was intended purely for the shock value. That perhaps I chose my words with the sole purpose of dropping verbal bombshells for fun.
But honestly, I drop the f-bomb just as often as just about any other adjective (although I have consciously tried to not use it as often in this blog thinking maybe I was inadvertently offending people new to me and my writing, but the reader count has pretty much stayed the same so I may be reintroducing it in the near future). Cuss words really are just like additional adjectives in my vocabulary. Any additional weight they may carry for some who don’t use them very often is lost for me by sheer familiarity of use.
As a writer and overall lover of words, I’m always on the lookout for new ways of expressing myself. So in that way I wish that particular set still held the vehemence and awe that they do for most. They would give me yet another set of screwdrivers in my tool box. But in my historical choice of words those specifically are center stage on the same level as all of my other favorite words.
Favorite words like livid and lovely, genau and gorgeous, demand and despise, strumpet and harlot, kerfuffle and wonky, wander and focus, fantasy and flaky, blessing and belated, dearest and daughter, saunter and son and so many, many more.
E has always been a bit shocked by the words that come out of my mouth. I think she thinks I’m a wee bit brash, maybe even a little crass. My own personal vernacular is so far outside of her day to day rhythm of speech and until tonight I think maybe she thought it was intended purely for the shock value. That perhaps I chose my words with the sole purpose of dropping verbal bombshells for fun.
But honestly, I drop the f-bomb just as often as just about any other adjective (although I have consciously tried to not use it as often in this blog thinking maybe I was inadvertently offending people new to me and my writing, but the reader count has pretty much stayed the same so I may be reintroducing it in the near future). Cuss words really are just like additional adjectives in my vocabulary. Any additional weight they may carry for some who don’t use them very often is lost for me by sheer familiarity of use.
As a writer and overall lover of words, I’m always on the lookout for new ways of expressing myself. So in that way I wish that particular set still held the vehemence and awe that they do for most. They would give me yet another set of screwdrivers in my tool box. But in my historical choice of words those specifically are center stage on the same level as all of my other favorite words.
Favorite words like livid and lovely, genau and gorgeous, demand and despise, strumpet and harlot, kerfuffle and wonky, wander and focus, fantasy and flaky, blessing and belated, dearest and daughter, saunter and son and so many, many more.
9/8/09
Next Steps
My dad was a banker for 30 some odd years. Even if he wasn’t technically working in a bank for all of those years, he was the financial go-to person in pretty much whatever company he was working for. He’s an extraordinarily patient and methodical person, so spending his entire career working with numbers and then teaching other people how to also work with numbers was a pretty good fit for him. He was really good at his job even if it didn’t make his soul sing. He probably would’ve been happier being a high school history teacher, but he fell into banking and there he stayed.
I mention this because he taught me about budgeting from very early on. When I returned home from my summer working on Mackinac Island he sat down with me and all the money I had saved and we worked out a budget for a new car and for me to move out of my parents’ house and support myself while I looked for a job. He’s done this process with me several times over the years for different things. And six years ago when my husband lost his job and I couldn’t find work and The Boy was a newborn, he and my mom swooped in and bailed us out of certain financial death. I still have a hard time thinking about that as it embarrasses me so.
I help organizations manage their money for a living for all purposes. Finding, writing and helping to track and manage grant money are a huge budget responsibility and I do it really well. I love working with budgets and financials.
Which is why it’s so hard for me to admit that we met with a bankruptcy lawyer yesterday. We are to a point that we can’t hide from it anymore and it’s time to get serious about our options. He recommended a Chapter 7 liquidation bankruptcy also known as A Clean Slate. Now we just have to figure out how to pay the lawyer up front for his services to guide us through the process. Which would almost add insult to injury if the guy hadn’t been so dang nice.
I mention this because he taught me about budgeting from very early on. When I returned home from my summer working on Mackinac Island he sat down with me and all the money I had saved and we worked out a budget for a new car and for me to move out of my parents’ house and support myself while I looked for a job. He’s done this process with me several times over the years for different things. And six years ago when my husband lost his job and I couldn’t find work and The Boy was a newborn, he and my mom swooped in and bailed us out of certain financial death. I still have a hard time thinking about that as it embarrasses me so.
I help organizations manage their money for a living for all purposes. Finding, writing and helping to track and manage grant money are a huge budget responsibility and I do it really well. I love working with budgets and financials.
Which is why it’s so hard for me to admit that we met with a bankruptcy lawyer yesterday. We are to a point that we can’t hide from it anymore and it’s time to get serious about our options. He recommended a Chapter 7 liquidation bankruptcy also known as A Clean Slate. Now we just have to figure out how to pay the lawyer up front for his services to guide us through the process. Which would almost add insult to injury if the guy hadn’t been so dang nice.
9/7/09
Mad Love for Subtlety
I have some mad love for Timothy Olyphant. It has been one of those things that has grown over time. I did not love him immediately. He had to grow on me a bit. But now? Now there is mad love.
I think he may very well be one of the most subtle actors I have seen as of late. He has this ability to narrow his eyes the slightest bit or turn up the corners of his mouth or hunch his shoulders in what seems the most minor of ways and the whole tone and tenor of the scene changes.
Unfortunately I think that very subtlety is what has kept him off of the main stream radar for so long. The first movie I remember seeing him in is Gone in 60 Seconds (“Are you ok? Are you sure? Because you just went through a wall.”) But I caught a movie on HBO not too long ago that he did the same year and I’d never heard of it – The Broken Hearts Club. It was a lovely little character movie that he just relaxed his shoulders, and his jaw muscles, into.
He has also had a few roles that were pretty forgettable. Like Fritz in Catch and Release and the guy who threw Mark Wahlberg out of the band in Rock Star (he is not so very pretty with a mullet by the way).
But where I really grew to appreciate him was in watching him play Sheriff Seth Bullock on Deadwood. There have been several times that I have just come to the conclusion that he is a pretty one dimensional character and then some surprise in the story will arise and prove me wrong. Not because of overt and dramatic choices, but because his once stony face softens and he suddenly has tears in his eyes. Or because he displays a sense of humor in the driest sense. And I love his sense of righteousness as the bad guy in Live Free or Die Hard. He’s smooth, clean cut and wicked smart.
But, call me shallow if you’d like, I am a total sucker for his billy bad ass character in Hitman.
I think he may very well be one of the most subtle actors I have seen as of late. He has this ability to narrow his eyes the slightest bit or turn up the corners of his mouth or hunch his shoulders in what seems the most minor of ways and the whole tone and tenor of the scene changes.
Unfortunately I think that very subtlety is what has kept him off of the main stream radar for so long. The first movie I remember seeing him in is Gone in 60 Seconds (“Are you ok? Are you sure? Because you just went through a wall.”) But I caught a movie on HBO not too long ago that he did the same year and I’d never heard of it – The Broken Hearts Club. It was a lovely little character movie that he just relaxed his shoulders, and his jaw muscles, into.
He has also had a few roles that were pretty forgettable. Like Fritz in Catch and Release and the guy who threw Mark Wahlberg out of the band in Rock Star (he is not so very pretty with a mullet by the way).
But where I really grew to appreciate him was in watching him play Sheriff Seth Bullock on Deadwood. There have been several times that I have just come to the conclusion that he is a pretty one dimensional character and then some surprise in the story will arise and prove me wrong. Not because of overt and dramatic choices, but because his once stony face softens and he suddenly has tears in his eyes. Or because he displays a sense of humor in the driest sense. And I love his sense of righteousness as the bad guy in Live Free or Die Hard. He’s smooth, clean cut and wicked smart.
But, call me shallow if you’d like, I am a total sucker for his billy bad ass character in Hitman.
9/6/09
Spicy Field Trip
I get all of my spices from a place called Penzey’s. My mom and I discovered it almost 10 years ago and now and it has been my go-to for all things spiced and herbed ever since. I love them. I love the company. I love the people who run it. I love their products. It’s just a company that I’ve fallen in love with hook, line and sinker. There aren’t many of those, so when I find them I have to give them their proper recognition.
And I have been waiting for them to open a store closer to us for a while. They opened one a couple of years ago outside of Denver, but it’s in a part of town that we never frequent, so I’ve just never been able to make the special trip. But they just opened one very close to a part of town I’m in pretty much whenever we go to Denver, so we decided to head up there yesterday and check it out. I was so excited I could hardly sit still. I got all silly and did a little happy dance when we reached the store’s front door.
I had envisioned spending quite a large chunk of time in the store, just looking and smelling and perusing. But the dang place was so well organized that I got a little basket and walked from display to display and found exactly what I was looking for. I think we were in there for maybe 20 minutes. And that’s only because my husband and the children were going around smelling everything. It was still a lovely experience and I am so glad I went, but it just wasn’t quite the luxury experience for which I had hoped.
But now I have some new spices with which to experiment. I’ve been really getting into Indian flavors lately, experimenting with different curries. And I am trying to figure out how to bring out the more subtle of the Asian flavors so that everything doesn’t just taste like soy sauce. Mostly I’m just trying to shake up our family menu a bit. Re-challenge myself in the kitchen and find some new staples.
And I have been waiting for them to open a store closer to us for a while. They opened one a couple of years ago outside of Denver, but it’s in a part of town that we never frequent, so I’ve just never been able to make the special trip. But they just opened one very close to a part of town I’m in pretty much whenever we go to Denver, so we decided to head up there yesterday and check it out. I was so excited I could hardly sit still. I got all silly and did a little happy dance when we reached the store’s front door.
I had envisioned spending quite a large chunk of time in the store, just looking and smelling and perusing. But the dang place was so well organized that I got a little basket and walked from display to display and found exactly what I was looking for. I think we were in there for maybe 20 minutes. And that’s only because my husband and the children were going around smelling everything. It was still a lovely experience and I am so glad I went, but it just wasn’t quite the luxury experience for which I had hoped.
But now I have some new spices with which to experiment. I’ve been really getting into Indian flavors lately, experimenting with different curries. And I am trying to figure out how to bring out the more subtle of the Asian flavors so that everything doesn’t just taste like soy sauce. Mostly I’m just trying to shake up our family menu a bit. Re-challenge myself in the kitchen and find some new staples.
9/5/09 - Weekend Writer's Block
**Sorry this is late, I flat forgot to post it yesterday!**
I have a hard time writing these blog posts on the weekends. During the week, there is always something going on, something that I’m working on or figuring. Something begging to be written out. On the weekends however, I try to settle in to a different pace. Slow things down, in the hopes that not only the weekends will move a bit more slowly, but also so that I don’t miss a moment of whatever it is that we’re doing (especially if I’m stealing an hour or so of alone time). Also because we’re flat broke, we hardly ever do anything interesting.
The weekends are typically full of chores and errands, hanging out around the house, catching up on the little things like dusting and email, bathing the dogs and getting ready for an overly belated garage sale. Watching the kids play in the yard with all of their neighborhood friends. There is just a whole other rhythm to the weekends and it makes it hard for me to write about them. The Boy never has homework because his school thinks that being in school for a solid 8 hours a day is enough. The Girl follows her brother around waiting for him to bless her with some sort of amazing new revelation or game. And they both follow their dad around begging to play tag or launch some other soon to be beloved adventure.
These posts usually take me about 20 minutes to write and publish on weekdays. On the weekends I am lucky if they take twice that long; they usually take three or four times as long. Mostly, I think, because the order and focus that I keep up on the weekdays, just falls away on the weekends. So my brain wanders to and fro and is very rarely able to pull a concentrated eye on just about anything.
My mind turns into the aimlessly jaunting thing that is currently being illustrated by this very post. Case in point? I have been staring at this page now for the last 45 minutes. It could be infuriating except that it’s the weekend and that is just not how I roll on the weekends.
I have a hard time writing these blog posts on the weekends. During the week, there is always something going on, something that I’m working on or figuring. Something begging to be written out. On the weekends however, I try to settle in to a different pace. Slow things down, in the hopes that not only the weekends will move a bit more slowly, but also so that I don’t miss a moment of whatever it is that we’re doing (especially if I’m stealing an hour or so of alone time). Also because we’re flat broke, we hardly ever do anything interesting.
The weekends are typically full of chores and errands, hanging out around the house, catching up on the little things like dusting and email, bathing the dogs and getting ready for an overly belated garage sale. Watching the kids play in the yard with all of their neighborhood friends. There is just a whole other rhythm to the weekends and it makes it hard for me to write about them. The Boy never has homework because his school thinks that being in school for a solid 8 hours a day is enough. The Girl follows her brother around waiting for him to bless her with some sort of amazing new revelation or game. And they both follow their dad around begging to play tag or launch some other soon to be beloved adventure.
These posts usually take me about 20 minutes to write and publish on weekdays. On the weekends I am lucky if they take twice that long; they usually take three or four times as long. Mostly, I think, because the order and focus that I keep up on the weekdays, just falls away on the weekends. So my brain wanders to and fro and is very rarely able to pull a concentrated eye on just about anything.
My mind turns into the aimlessly jaunting thing that is currently being illustrated by this very post. Case in point? I have been staring at this page now for the last 45 minutes. It could be infuriating except that it’s the weekend and that is just not how I roll on the weekends.
9/4/09
Tiny Town
I took The Girl to Tiny Town today with a dear family friend. P is a woman that my mother has known since high school and I grew up with. She has always been much like a second mom to me and I love her. She was laid off from her job last year, which was, incidentally, the year before she planned to retire anyway. So she’s been relatively footloose and fancy free as of late and since The Boy went back to school we’ve been trying to figure out a time when The Girl and I could come and see her. In the midst of emailing back and forth, she mentioned going to Tiny Town, so we picked a date and today we went.
They have a small train that takes people around to see all of the buildings and from the moment we stepped foot in the place she only had eyes for the train. I got her interested in the small scale buildings occasionally, especially the ones where they got to crawl around the insides of the Colorado landmark re-creations. But mostly she spent the first hour we were there asking when she got to ride the train.
After our first train ride we decided to go to Morrison for lunch as the Tiny Town concession stand only had hot dogs and ice cream to offer and while that made The Girl one happy camper, P and I decided that we required more substantial nourishment than questionable porkbeefchickenonlygodknowswhatproductinacasing.
So we endured the worst service I’ve had in a very long time and we made our way back to Tiny Town for the promised second train ride and ice cream (which I ended up eating half of when she couldn’t keep up with the rate at which it was melting).
It was such a lovely day in all respects. And it brought such a smile to my face to have my daughter bonding with this woman who is such a hallmark of safety and affection in my memory and life. The Girl asked her to share a seat on the second train ride and they walked hand in hand back to our car.
They have a small train that takes people around to see all of the buildings and from the moment we stepped foot in the place she only had eyes for the train. I got her interested in the small scale buildings occasionally, especially the ones where they got to crawl around the insides of the Colorado landmark re-creations. But mostly she spent the first hour we were there asking when she got to ride the train.
After our first train ride we decided to go to Morrison for lunch as the Tiny Town concession stand only had hot dogs and ice cream to offer and while that made The Girl one happy camper, P and I decided that we required more substantial nourishment than questionable porkbeefchickenonlygodknowswhatproductinacasing.
So we endured the worst service I’ve had in a very long time and we made our way back to Tiny Town for the promised second train ride and ice cream (which I ended up eating half of when she couldn’t keep up with the rate at which it was melting).
It was such a lovely day in all respects. And it brought such a smile to my face to have my daughter bonding with this woman who is such a hallmark of safety and affection in my memory and life. The Girl asked her to share a seat on the second train ride and they walked hand in hand back to our car.
9/3/09
Fairy Godmother
My mom revealed herself as my own personal fairy godmother today. It was wholly unexpected and it made me cry.
The Boy’s 6th birthday is just over 3 weeks away and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for his birthday. Or, to put a more painfully truthful point on it, I’ve been trying to figure out how to finagle money for a birthday party and a birthday present out of our completely debt consumed budget. As I’ve already told you, The Boy was promised a pair of guinea pigs for his birthday and that was to be his big present from us and my parents. But as our financial picture is worsening daily, I finally had to face up to the fact that we simply could not afford to do both. So in the interest of acknowledging my son’s new found grown-up-ed-ness, I asked him what he wanted more – the guinea pigs or a birthday party. And he asked for some time to think about it. I asked him about it last night as I was giving him a hugkiss good night, this is what he said to me, “I think I’ll choose the birthday party. Maybe I can get my own special pet for my birthday next year, maybe you’ll be able to afford it then.”
And I can honestly say that I’ve never felt like a more horrible mother than in that moment. That moment when I burdened my son with my adult money troubles. There was so much wrong with that I didn’t know what to do but cry and tell him I loved him more than anything, tuck him in and turn off his light.
So I was tearfully relating this story to my mother this morning and she gracefully, mercifully and wonderfully offered to pay for The Boy’s birthday party and his guinea pigs (if that’s what he really wants for his birthday). I know she did it to protect her grandson and make sure his birthday memories are fun and carefree for as long as possible. But with one stroke of her wand, she brought just a touch of magic back into my life as well.
The Boy’s 6th birthday is just over 3 weeks away and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for his birthday. Or, to put a more painfully truthful point on it, I’ve been trying to figure out how to finagle money for a birthday party and a birthday present out of our completely debt consumed budget. As I’ve already told you, The Boy was promised a pair of guinea pigs for his birthday and that was to be his big present from us and my parents. But as our financial picture is worsening daily, I finally had to face up to the fact that we simply could not afford to do both. So in the interest of acknowledging my son’s new found grown-up-ed-ness, I asked him what he wanted more – the guinea pigs or a birthday party. And he asked for some time to think about it. I asked him about it last night as I was giving him a hugkiss good night, this is what he said to me, “I think I’ll choose the birthday party. Maybe I can get my own special pet for my birthday next year, maybe you’ll be able to afford it then.”
And I can honestly say that I’ve never felt like a more horrible mother than in that moment. That moment when I burdened my son with my adult money troubles. There was so much wrong with that I didn’t know what to do but cry and tell him I loved him more than anything, tuck him in and turn off his light.
So I was tearfully relating this story to my mother this morning and she gracefully, mercifully and wonderfully offered to pay for The Boy’s birthday party and his guinea pigs (if that’s what he really wants for his birthday). I know she did it to protect her grandson and make sure his birthday memories are fun and carefree for as long as possible. But with one stroke of her wand, she brought just a touch of magic back into my life as well.
9/2/09
Cartoons and NPR
The Girl is watching Tom & Jerry right now. She loves them and asks to watch them often (almost as often as she asks to watch Max & Ruby). I just looked up and the current tomfoolery afoot was Tom holding Jerry’s tail onto a stump of wood while he attempted to put a hatchet into Jerry’s little mouse body. All with a smile on his face. And it dawned on me that perhaps this is not quite on the appropriate side for my 3 year old daughter.
Some of my friends would be aghast at the very thought of allowing either of my children to watch this particular cartoon. Of course most of those same friends would come unglued at the very knowledge of how much TV I allow our children to watch in the first place. I know I should turn on the TV less and bring out the art supplies more. I know I should do some research on Montessori methods that can be done at home with stuff around the house. The Girl is seriously my little Montessori poster child and I should encourage that now so that she doesn’t run into the problems starting school that her brother did.
But at the same time I think about the fact that I grew up watching Tom & Jerry, Looney Tunes and a host of others that were perhaps a bit too old for me and I’ve never once had the urge to murder a mouse with a hatchet. Or anything else for that matter. I just always knew that it was a cartoon and therefore not real. Not to be imitated. Not to be attempted. It has a level of common sense to me. And maybe I’m just willing to give my kids the benefit of the doubt that they too will know that it is all just pretend.
And yes there is the whole exposure issue, i.e. not wanting to expose kids to that sort of violence/behavior until they are much older. And I get that, I really do. But I guess if I am really concerned about exposure, I shouldn’t listen to NPR in the car with them either.
Some of my friends would be aghast at the very thought of allowing either of my children to watch this particular cartoon. Of course most of those same friends would come unglued at the very knowledge of how much TV I allow our children to watch in the first place. I know I should turn on the TV less and bring out the art supplies more. I know I should do some research on Montessori methods that can be done at home with stuff around the house. The Girl is seriously my little Montessori poster child and I should encourage that now so that she doesn’t run into the problems starting school that her brother did.
But at the same time I think about the fact that I grew up watching Tom & Jerry, Looney Tunes and a host of others that were perhaps a bit too old for me and I’ve never once had the urge to murder a mouse with a hatchet. Or anything else for that matter. I just always knew that it was a cartoon and therefore not real. Not to be imitated. Not to be attempted. It has a level of common sense to me. And maybe I’m just willing to give my kids the benefit of the doubt that they too will know that it is all just pretend.
And yes there is the whole exposure issue, i.e. not wanting to expose kids to that sort of violence/behavior until they are much older. And I get that, I really do. But I guess if I am really concerned about exposure, I shouldn’t listen to NPR in the car with them either.
9/1/09
Fear and Anger
Here’s something I haven’t quite figured out yet – how do I get far enough away from the fear and/or anger in a situation so that I can be active in the problem solving?
We’ve had this whole money problem thing dogging us for years. It all started when I quit a really toxic job not long after we moved back to Colorado. I got pregnant with The Boy soon after that and even though I was still looking for a replacement job, no one wanted to hire me when I was already pregnant and would be leaving for maternity leave so soon after being hired. My husband lost his job when The Boy was 6 weeks old and with both of us essentially being unemployed (I had started my consulting business by then but was nowhere close to bringing in a consistent paycheck) we drained our savings and racked up a suffocating amount of credit card bills. That was more than 6 years ago now and we’ve been seriously struggling ever since. There have been times of respite, when my consulting business was going gangbusters or when my husband was on hurricane catastrophe duty and getting doubled paychecks with all the overtime. But essentially it’s been a constant struggle.
And with each passing year the options available have lessened and become less solutions and more choice between two bad alternatives. I’m just not a big fan of being pushed into a corner, especially when I’m the one who has done the pushing.
It pisses me off that we haven’t been able to visit my husband’s parents since The Boy was about 18 months old simply because we can’t afford it. It pisses me off that I’m about to ask The Boy to choose between a birthday party and his guinea pig birthday present because we cannot afford both. It pisses me off that I can’t put The Girl in preschool this year. It pisses me off that we don’t get to have date nights nearly as often as we need them.
But under all that pissed-offedness is fear. A deep fear that my family will be living in a cardboard box in the near future.
We’ve had this whole money problem thing dogging us for years. It all started when I quit a really toxic job not long after we moved back to Colorado. I got pregnant with The Boy soon after that and even though I was still looking for a replacement job, no one wanted to hire me when I was already pregnant and would be leaving for maternity leave so soon after being hired. My husband lost his job when The Boy was 6 weeks old and with both of us essentially being unemployed (I had started my consulting business by then but was nowhere close to bringing in a consistent paycheck) we drained our savings and racked up a suffocating amount of credit card bills. That was more than 6 years ago now and we’ve been seriously struggling ever since. There have been times of respite, when my consulting business was going gangbusters or when my husband was on hurricane catastrophe duty and getting doubled paychecks with all the overtime. But essentially it’s been a constant struggle.
And with each passing year the options available have lessened and become less solutions and more choice between two bad alternatives. I’m just not a big fan of being pushed into a corner, especially when I’m the one who has done the pushing.
It pisses me off that we haven’t been able to visit my husband’s parents since The Boy was about 18 months old simply because we can’t afford it. It pisses me off that I’m about to ask The Boy to choose between a birthday party and his guinea pig birthday present because we cannot afford both. It pisses me off that I can’t put The Girl in preschool this year. It pisses me off that we don’t get to have date nights nearly as often as we need them.
But under all that pissed-offedness is fear. A deep fear that my family will be living in a cardboard box in the near future.
8/31/09
Civic Duty
I think I need to bite back my bitter words about being called for jury duty. I have to give it to the jury commissioner; they really have the process down pat. There was very little waiting and it really did move along pretty quickly. And I ended up sitting next to a really nice woman. She has four boys and homeschools, so we got to have a really lovely conversation about raising boys and the trials and joys of homeschooling. I was almost sorry to hear my name called I was enjoying our conversation so much.
But called I was, so I filed into line and followed the clerk to the jury waiting room before being led into the courtroom to face the lawyers and their open ended questions. There was an interesting group with me including two older men who chatted like old hens throughout the entire jury selection process and one gentleman who could not keep his eyes open and was thusly let go. I was shocked when I was not dismissed and was in fact placed on the jury to hear the trial starting after lunch. And I was excited.
Within the first 20 minutes of testimony I finally understood why all of my trial lawyer friends complain about the tediousness of actual trial procedure. I finally understood why trials can take so long. And I finally understood why there is so much animosity between defense lawyers and prosecutors. They were not all that nice to each other.
We had finally gotten through the first witness and on her way out she stopped at the prosecutor’s table (which was right in front of the jury box) to complain about her injury. The minute I heard her do it I knew the trial was done. The counselors immediately converged on the bench in heated whispers. The judge declared a mistrial about two minutes later and my time as a juror was over.
I was truly disappointed to have it end this way. I wanted to see the thing through. I wanted to hear all the evidence. I wanted to help bring conclusion to all parties. It is my civic duty after all.
But called I was, so I filed into line and followed the clerk to the jury waiting room before being led into the courtroom to face the lawyers and their open ended questions. There was an interesting group with me including two older men who chatted like old hens throughout the entire jury selection process and one gentleman who could not keep his eyes open and was thusly let go. I was shocked when I was not dismissed and was in fact placed on the jury to hear the trial starting after lunch. And I was excited.
Within the first 20 minutes of testimony I finally understood why all of my trial lawyer friends complain about the tediousness of actual trial procedure. I finally understood why trials can take so long. And I finally understood why there is so much animosity between defense lawyers and prosecutors. They were not all that nice to each other.
We had finally gotten through the first witness and on her way out she stopped at the prosecutor’s table (which was right in front of the jury box) to complain about her injury. The minute I heard her do it I knew the trial was done. The counselors immediately converged on the bench in heated whispers. The judge declared a mistrial about two minutes later and my time as a juror was over.
I was truly disappointed to have it end this way. I wanted to see the thing through. I wanted to hear all the evidence. I wanted to help bring conclusion to all parties. It is my civic duty after all.
8/30/09
Jury Duty
I have freakin’ frakkin’ jury duty tomorrow. There was a time when I would have looked forward to jury duty. The last time I was called, in fact, I did look forward to it. I was excited about the opportunity to serve on a jury and get an insider’s view of the justice system. I have been intrigued by the legal system for as long as I can remember. I took a constitutional law class in college and I was hooked. I loved the intricacy of it all, how every word is vitally important to the overall structure of the document or argument. At one point I had in fact decided to get a JD in constitutional law to compliment my PhD in political philosophy. To this day the idea of going to law school makes my heart race.
But today, I am dreading going to jury duty. I don’t really want anything to do with it. I have zero desire to get up early, drive downtown, fight for a parking spot and then sit in a crowded room with a hundred other people while the system decides what to do with us all. My husband has taken the day off to help with the kids while I deal with my civic duty. And I gotta tell you that sitting on uncomfortable chairs all day while my husband is off of work just irritates me. I hate that I have to give up a day of help to not get picked.
The last time I was called for jury duty I made it to the sit in the box and have the lawyers ask you questions part and I got so excited thinking “how could they possibly not pick me? I am intelligent and willing and most of all I want to be here!” Unfortunately, I am pretty sure all of those things are what got me passed over for the job. And to be quite frank, it pissed me off. Made me angry that by being smart and interested, I was unsuitable to be on a jury of my peers.
Maybe tomorrow I will stop paying attention and end all my sentences in prepositions.
But today, I am dreading going to jury duty. I don’t really want anything to do with it. I have zero desire to get up early, drive downtown, fight for a parking spot and then sit in a crowded room with a hundred other people while the system decides what to do with us all. My husband has taken the day off to help with the kids while I deal with my civic duty. And I gotta tell you that sitting on uncomfortable chairs all day while my husband is off of work just irritates me. I hate that I have to give up a day of help to not get picked.
The last time I was called for jury duty I made it to the sit in the box and have the lawyers ask you questions part and I got so excited thinking “how could they possibly not pick me? I am intelligent and willing and most of all I want to be here!” Unfortunately, I am pretty sure all of those things are what got me passed over for the job. And to be quite frank, it pissed me off. Made me angry that by being smart and interested, I was unsuitable to be on a jury of my peers.
Maybe tomorrow I will stop paying attention and end all my sentences in prepositions.
8/29/09
Adventureland
I’m not really a big slapstick movie fan. I don’t much like gutter humor and making me feel dumber than I already am doesn’t do much for my sense of humor. So when I first saw the previews for Adventureland, I almost immediately discounted it thinking it wouldn’t be anything I’d be interested in. And then I saw that Ryan Reynolds was in it. Damnit!! I love that guy. I’ve had mad love for him since Two Guys, a Girl, and A Pizza Place when he was Berg way back in the day (funny aside, before I met my husband I wanted my boyfriend to be a combination of one half Berg and one half Niles from Frasier). He’s got instinctual comedic timing and is just so very, very pretty.
When the movie came out it got some really good reviews. And one of my favorite bloggers really loved it. So I figured what the heck and we watched it tonight.
Of all the ways I could figure out how to describe it, I think I’d have to go with sweet. It’s just such a sweet, sweet movie. There are a few attempts at American Pie-ish gutter humor, but feeble ones at best so they are forgiven. But mostly it’s smart and sweet and actually really fun to see Kristen Stewart just be in a character instead of infusing it with so much angst. And Jesse Eisenberg is one of my new favorite actors (although I’m fairly sure I’m old enough to be his mother). He’s so understated and honest. Netflix tells me he was also in The Squid and The Whale, but I wasn’t a big fan of that one so I probably just blocked him out with the rest of it.
There just aren’t very many movies these days (it seems at least) that are so thoroughly sweet and romantic in such an honest and raw way. Without all the stickiness and silliness that get attached to hide the vulnerability that comes with just laying it all out on the table. And there is something utterly refreshing about a movie willing to leave it all out there, painting a picture of first love.
When the movie came out it got some really good reviews. And one of my favorite bloggers really loved it. So I figured what the heck and we watched it tonight.
Of all the ways I could figure out how to describe it, I think I’d have to go with sweet. It’s just such a sweet, sweet movie. There are a few attempts at American Pie-ish gutter humor, but feeble ones at best so they are forgiven. But mostly it’s smart and sweet and actually really fun to see Kristen Stewart just be in a character instead of infusing it with so much angst. And Jesse Eisenberg is one of my new favorite actors (although I’m fairly sure I’m old enough to be his mother). He’s so understated and honest. Netflix tells me he was also in The Squid and The Whale, but I wasn’t a big fan of that one so I probably just blocked him out with the rest of it.
There just aren’t very many movies these days (it seems at least) that are so thoroughly sweet and romantic in such an honest and raw way. Without all the stickiness and silliness that get attached to hide the vulnerability that comes with just laying it all out on the table. And there is something utterly refreshing about a movie willing to leave it all out there, painting a picture of first love.
8/28/09
Bliss
I can honestly say that Dave Gahan is the only singer by whom I’ve been completely awe-struck (well, except for David Bowie, but that’s a whole different post). Seeing him in photos or in videos has caused much twitterpation for me over the years. Listening to his voice has moved me to tears on more than one occasion. But all of that pales in comparison to how it was to see him live. Watching him spin with the mic stand across the stage or smile at that crowd’s reactions was almost more than I could take last night. I found myself screaming and bouncing like that 12 year old girl I was when I discovered them.
I almost don’t have any words. Standing there, in the best music venue in the country listening to Depeche Mode move through their set list was just surreal. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t ever get to see them live. That I would just have to settle for turning up the volume way too loud in the car and watching Dave Gahan and Martin Gore and Andy Fletcher float across my mind’s eye.
But there I was. Standing in between M who was able to come by sheer serendipitous circumstances and D who is the only person I’ve ever found who shares my absolute appreciation for the band. My legs aching from dancing and my voice faltering from screaming and excitement.
They played several songs from their new album which brought me a whole new level of appreciation for their new work. And they riled the crowd with the favorites from Violator. And they sent me into bliss with Behind the Wheel, Fly on the Windscreen, Somebody, Stripped and my absolute favorite Never Let Me Down Again. I didn’t get to hear Shake the Disease or Question of Lust, but that’s trivial to the overall set list they delivered. There is simply no way that they could have survived playing for as long as I would have liked.
We sat in post-concert glow watching the crowd file out until the megaphones came out and demanded that we move along. Such a gorgeous night.
I almost don’t have any words. Standing there, in the best music venue in the country listening to Depeche Mode move through their set list was just surreal. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t ever get to see them live. That I would just have to settle for turning up the volume way too loud in the car and watching Dave Gahan and Martin Gore and Andy Fletcher float across my mind’s eye.
But there I was. Standing in between M who was able to come by sheer serendipitous circumstances and D who is the only person I’ve ever found who shares my absolute appreciation for the band. My legs aching from dancing and my voice faltering from screaming and excitement.
They played several songs from their new album which brought me a whole new level of appreciation for their new work. And they riled the crowd with the favorites from Violator. And they sent me into bliss with Behind the Wheel, Fly on the Windscreen, Somebody, Stripped and my absolute favorite Never Let Me Down Again. I didn’t get to hear Shake the Disease or Question of Lust, but that’s trivial to the overall set list they delivered. There is simply no way that they could have survived playing for as long as I would have liked.
We sat in post-concert glow watching the crowd file out until the megaphones came out and demanded that we move along. Such a gorgeous night.
8/27/09 - Depeche Mode
**Sorry this is late! But I was out way late with the concert and lost track of time yesterday to get it posted.**
My elementary school best friend, M, and I went to a movie one night when we were in about fifth grade. We had planned to see Fletch (I think), but when we arrived at the theater we discovered that Depeche Mode: 101 was playing. At that point I only really knew their song “People are People” and hadn’t really explored them much past that. After seeing 101 however, I had discovered one of my all-time most favorite bands. I can look back on sitting in that movie theater and remember exactly how it felt to be in the moment of discovery. Up to that point I hadn’t ever really found any bands that I could throw it all in with. I had a few favorites; I had discovered The Beastie Boys by then in all of their unrefined and crazy punk and early hip hop glory days. My love affair had begun with The Cure. But there was something about Depeche Mode that just romanced me like none other had before.
I am such a sucker for lyrics and the underlying beats in songs. Martin Gore constructed these songs that was driving and strong while still being inspired, honest and raw. His lyrics are just so naked. Where Robert Smith spoke to the overflowing teen angst and hopeless romantic in me, Dave Gahan singing spoke to all of me.
I know this must all sound so ridiculous and dramatic. But Depeche Mode has truly provided the soundtrack to three quarters of my life thus far. Their music is just a part of me. And they are the only band in my top 10 favorites that I’ve not ever seen live in concert. But that is going to change tonight. I’m going to see Depeche Mode, not only in concert, but in concert at Red Rocks. I bought these tickets so long ago that I wasn’t sure the actual concert would ever arrive, but tonight is the night and I cannot wait.
M and I are going out for Indian food and then going to pick up D and off we go. I’m so happy that I get to go to this concert with these girlfriends.
My elementary school best friend, M, and I went to a movie one night when we were in about fifth grade. We had planned to see Fletch (I think), but when we arrived at the theater we discovered that Depeche Mode: 101 was playing. At that point I only really knew their song “People are People” and hadn’t really explored them much past that. After seeing 101 however, I had discovered one of my all-time most favorite bands. I can look back on sitting in that movie theater and remember exactly how it felt to be in the moment of discovery. Up to that point I hadn’t ever really found any bands that I could throw it all in with. I had a few favorites; I had discovered The Beastie Boys by then in all of their unrefined and crazy punk and early hip hop glory days. My love affair had begun with The Cure. But there was something about Depeche Mode that just romanced me like none other had before.
I am such a sucker for lyrics and the underlying beats in songs. Martin Gore constructed these songs that was driving and strong while still being inspired, honest and raw. His lyrics are just so naked. Where Robert Smith spoke to the overflowing teen angst and hopeless romantic in me, Dave Gahan singing spoke to all of me.
I know this must all sound so ridiculous and dramatic. But Depeche Mode has truly provided the soundtrack to three quarters of my life thus far. Their music is just a part of me. And they are the only band in my top 10 favorites that I’ve not ever seen live in concert. But that is going to change tonight. I’m going to see Depeche Mode, not only in concert, but in concert at Red Rocks. I bought these tickets so long ago that I wasn’t sure the actual concert would ever arrive, but tonight is the night and I cannot wait.
M and I are going out for Indian food and then going to pick up D and off we go. I’m so happy that I get to go to this concert with these girlfriends.
8/26/09
Unbecoming the Fixer
“If you can’t fix it, Jack, you gotta stand it….For as long as we can ride it. There ain’t no reins on this one.” – Ennis Del Mar, Brokeback Mountain
I’ve always been a fixer. I am the queen of research. Whenever I encounter a problem, big or small, I research it. I find out everything I can about it and then I put together a plan to fix it. It’s what I do. And unlike a lot of people who mostly just want people to listen while they vent, I would be more than happy if after I’m done venting someone would step in and just fix whatever it is that I’m railing about. I like quick fixes. It speaks to the instant gratification part of me. I like certain fixes; the ability to know something inside and out and then make it work for you. So much of everyday life exists in hues of gray that I deeply appreciate those times when things are black and white enough to be able to fix them.
But for the majority of life, there are no reins, no fixes. You just have to hold on and ride it out, for as long as you can stand it. And that’s the part that I’ve always had trouble with.
I think though that I’m learning how to appreciate those times where the issue at hand cannot be fixed and must only be stood. I’m learning how to use those times to my advantage. Because even if it can’t be fixed, the opportunity to thoroughly learn it still exists. The moment of being can so easily be transformed into the chance to become.
And I think that it’s taken me so long to learn this because I was so utterly attached to the action; the choice to make each moment into something other than what it already is. But this newfound faith is allowing me to see that each moment stands on its own, regardless of my action within it. It simply is, with or without my choice to act. Once I’m able to let go of the need to act, I can then know each moment in its entirety.
I’ve always been a fixer. I am the queen of research. Whenever I encounter a problem, big or small, I research it. I find out everything I can about it and then I put together a plan to fix it. It’s what I do. And unlike a lot of people who mostly just want people to listen while they vent, I would be more than happy if after I’m done venting someone would step in and just fix whatever it is that I’m railing about. I like quick fixes. It speaks to the instant gratification part of me. I like certain fixes; the ability to know something inside and out and then make it work for you. So much of everyday life exists in hues of gray that I deeply appreciate those times when things are black and white enough to be able to fix them.
But for the majority of life, there are no reins, no fixes. You just have to hold on and ride it out, for as long as you can stand it. And that’s the part that I’ve always had trouble with.
I think though that I’m learning how to appreciate those times where the issue at hand cannot be fixed and must only be stood. I’m learning how to use those times to my advantage. Because even if it can’t be fixed, the opportunity to thoroughly learn it still exists. The moment of being can so easily be transformed into the chance to become.
And I think that it’s taken me so long to learn this because I was so utterly attached to the action; the choice to make each moment into something other than what it already is. But this newfound faith is allowing me to see that each moment stands on its own, regardless of my action within it. It simply is, with or without my choice to act. Once I’m able to let go of the need to act, I can then know each moment in its entirety.
8/25/09
Fashionably Nostalgic
Do you remember powder jackets from back in the 80’s? I begged for one for about a year before my mom finally relented. It was light pink and grey. I loved it. I wouldn’t take it off for anything. I was so proud of it. I just knew simply by wearing it that my cool quotient went through the roof; making it so that I commanded all attention whenever I walked into a room at the ripe age of 9 or so. We went on a field trip one day at school and I left it on the bus. I was heartbroken.
There were several things like that growing up. I coveted Polo shirts (you could tell the real ones from the knock offs by counting the legs on the horse) and Converse shoes. Jelly bracelets and friendship pins.
The uniforms at my Catholic elementary school took the coveting out of the classroom itself, but not out of the friendships. After school and on weekends, the competition would commence. We would spend hours trading bracelets and pinning the bead-laden safety pins on the backs of our Cons. We would go to the mall with our immature selves which would do nothing but further fuel our already very mature sense of want. We’d giggle and whisper about the boys we saw in the food court while oohing and ahhing over a pair of shoes.
Of course as time went on I went from ogling the shoes at Nine West to Doc Martens. And the powder jackets retreated in the face of leather motorcycle jackets which I passed around my artist friends to paint, thus making MY jacket one of a kind. Polo shirts faded to tartan miniskirts and eventually the jelly bracelets and friendship pins merged into tongue piercings and purple hair dye.
And now I’m watching my childhood come back into fashion. With the hot pink fishnet gloves and the leg warmers, the loud patterns and colors. Jelly shoes are even back. And they weren’t even comfortable the first time. Now I shake my head and sigh at the boys we see in the food court and wonder whatever became of my old powder jacket.
There were several things like that growing up. I coveted Polo shirts (you could tell the real ones from the knock offs by counting the legs on the horse) and Converse shoes. Jelly bracelets and friendship pins.
The uniforms at my Catholic elementary school took the coveting out of the classroom itself, but not out of the friendships. After school and on weekends, the competition would commence. We would spend hours trading bracelets and pinning the bead-laden safety pins on the backs of our Cons. We would go to the mall with our immature selves which would do nothing but further fuel our already very mature sense of want. We’d giggle and whisper about the boys we saw in the food court while oohing and ahhing over a pair of shoes.
Of course as time went on I went from ogling the shoes at Nine West to Doc Martens. And the powder jackets retreated in the face of leather motorcycle jackets which I passed around my artist friends to paint, thus making MY jacket one of a kind. Polo shirts faded to tartan miniskirts and eventually the jelly bracelets and friendship pins merged into tongue piercings and purple hair dye.
And now I’m watching my childhood come back into fashion. With the hot pink fishnet gloves and the leg warmers, the loud patterns and colors. Jelly shoes are even back. And they weren’t even comfortable the first time. Now I shake my head and sigh at the boys we see in the food court and wonder whatever became of my old powder jacket.
8/24/09
Guinea Pigs on the Horizon
It feels like this year is rocketing past me. The Boy’s (and my husband’s) birthday is in about a month and I haven’t really given much thought to what we’re going to do for his birthday. Although I did open my big fat mouth a few months ago (fully counting on The Boy to forget all about what came out of it) and said that if he buckled down on his chore charts and proved that he was responsible and could follow through on that responsibility that we would get him a pet of his own for his birthday. He has indeed not forgotten. And has, in fact, totally followed through on his chores to the point that we don’t even have to help him anymore. We simply ask him to do his chores and he does them. Without complaint or missing a beat. It’s pretty cool and, even though the idea of having yet something else to take care of feels daunting, has definitely earned him a pair of guinea pigs for his birthday.
The upside to the whole guinea pig prospect is that I found an organization that rescues and adopts out guinea pigs and chinchillas. So we don’t have to buy them, we can adopt them! And that makes me very happy. We asked his Aunt and Uncle to give him a gift certificate to PetsMart to help with set up and my parents have agreed to split it all with us as well. So hopefully we’ll be able to have the cage and essentials already purchased for his actual birthday and then we can go to Denver to adopt the guinea pigs and he can use his gift certificate to pick out some toys and treats for them.
Hopefully it will work out just that easily. The Boy is planning on asking his Nana Ro and Papa Tractor for a skateboard. I wish we knew some older kids in the neighborhood that already knew how to ride a skateboard so he could have some real instruction with it instead of just having to figure it out. But I’m sure he’ll triumphantly have the scraped knees to show for his own efforts.
The upside to the whole guinea pig prospect is that I found an organization that rescues and adopts out guinea pigs and chinchillas. So we don’t have to buy them, we can adopt them! And that makes me very happy. We asked his Aunt and Uncle to give him a gift certificate to PetsMart to help with set up and my parents have agreed to split it all with us as well. So hopefully we’ll be able to have the cage and essentials already purchased for his actual birthday and then we can go to Denver to adopt the guinea pigs and he can use his gift certificate to pick out some toys and treats for them.
Hopefully it will work out just that easily. The Boy is planning on asking his Nana Ro and Papa Tractor for a skateboard. I wish we knew some older kids in the neighborhood that already knew how to ride a skateboard so he could have some real instruction with it instead of just having to figure it out. But I’m sure he’ll triumphantly have the scraped knees to show for his own efforts.
8/23/09
Aspirations
I have long aspired to be a freelance writer. I’ve done tons of research. I have grad schools picked out to teach me how to develop characters and polish my thoughts into shiny nuggets of literary brilliance. I would love to spend my days spinning stories and knitting together worlds that are not my own.
Here’s the problem: I don’t actually have anything to say that seems even remotely publishable. I could write until my fingers fall off about motherhood and my children. But I’m relatively sure that what I would write hasn’t already been said a hundred times before by much better writers than I. Other than that, I’m not much of an expert in anything else. Therefore there’s not much else that I could write credibly about.
I’m no Annie Proulx who has such a visceral tie to the land in Wyoming and the people who live there. Who can tell stories about people of such depth and personality that I would love to buy them a beer. I just don’t have those kinds of roots anywhere, much less where I live now.
I’m no John Irving or Tom Robbins or Christopher Moore or Wally Lamb who employ such smooth-tongued characters to tell their stories. It’s like they have some razor sharp inside view into human nature that gives them some special power to craft dialogue that demands to be remembered.
I’m no JRR Tolkien or C.S. Lewis or Phillip Pullman or J.K. Rowling who lavish their paper worlds with such immense color and fantasy. I wonder if these magical kingdoms came straight from their everyday imaginations or if by some slide of hand they were given a glimpse into a wholly other world full of spectacle and glory.
The only insight I have is into my own personal brand of crazy. The only glory gleaned from my daily life is on those days when I manage to tick off a few things on a to-do list or not to yell too much. The inherent spectacle is brought by my children and their penchant for dramatic displays.
So where does this all leave me and my aspirations? Well, writing to you, of course.
Here’s the problem: I don’t actually have anything to say that seems even remotely publishable. I could write until my fingers fall off about motherhood and my children. But I’m relatively sure that what I would write hasn’t already been said a hundred times before by much better writers than I. Other than that, I’m not much of an expert in anything else. Therefore there’s not much else that I could write credibly about.
I’m no Annie Proulx who has such a visceral tie to the land in Wyoming and the people who live there. Who can tell stories about people of such depth and personality that I would love to buy them a beer. I just don’t have those kinds of roots anywhere, much less where I live now.
I’m no John Irving or Tom Robbins or Christopher Moore or Wally Lamb who employ such smooth-tongued characters to tell their stories. It’s like they have some razor sharp inside view into human nature that gives them some special power to craft dialogue that demands to be remembered.
I’m no JRR Tolkien or C.S. Lewis or Phillip Pullman or J.K. Rowling who lavish their paper worlds with such immense color and fantasy. I wonder if these magical kingdoms came straight from their everyday imaginations or if by some slide of hand they were given a glimpse into a wholly other world full of spectacle and glory.
The only insight I have is into my own personal brand of crazy. The only glory gleaned from my daily life is on those days when I manage to tick off a few things on a to-do list or not to yell too much. The inherent spectacle is brought by my children and their penchant for dramatic displays.
So where does this all leave me and my aspirations? Well, writing to you, of course.
8/22/09
Draft Day
The draft is done. And I am pretty sure that I won’t ever be happy with my draft pick order. But overall it went pretty well. I got Peyton Manning, who is always my boy. And I fared pretty well with my wide receiver picks with Andre Johnson and Dwayne Bowe (one of my go-to guys the past two years). As usual, my running backs are going to be an ever shifting piece of my overall roster as I lost all of my top picks early in the game. I’m hip deep in rooky running backs which has usually worked out pretty well for me. I picked up Adrian Peterson my first year because I loved him as a Sooner and then I was able to pick up Chris Johnson last year right as he was busting out. This year I’m hoping Beanie Wells and Donald Brown will be break out rookies. And I was able to pick up Brian Robiskie as a back-up wide receiver who is poised to really do something crazy if he can be in the right place at the right time. And even though I’m really wishing that Brett Favre would give up the ghost and just stayed retired already, I’m counting on his penchant for using all of his available receivers to give Visanthe Shiancoe a good showing. All in all, I’m pretty happy.
One of my biggest weaknesses playing fantasy football has always been my focus on individual players instead of looking at the whole big picture within the NFL as well as across teams. And it got me this year as well with several of my players having coinciding bye weeks. So you can be sure there will some cussing come those weeks as I am deciding how to shuffle my roster. But I’ll deal with that (with choice words) as it comes.
So now I’m free for the day (even though it’s now half over) and I am debating going to see a movie and having sushi. Or just staying in my PJ’s all day and doing nothing. I can’t quite decide. Whichever I choose, it’s just nice to have a quiet house and no expectations.
One of my biggest weaknesses playing fantasy football has always been my focus on individual players instead of looking at the whole big picture within the NFL as well as across teams. And it got me this year as well with several of my players having coinciding bye weeks. So you can be sure there will some cussing come those weeks as I am deciding how to shuffle my roster. But I’ll deal with that (with choice words) as it comes.
So now I’m free for the day (even though it’s now half over) and I am debating going to see a movie and having sushi. Or just staying in my PJ’s all day and doing nothing. I can’t quite decide. Whichever I choose, it’s just nice to have a quiet house and no expectations.
8/21/09 - Gift Organization
**I thought I might get this one in under the wire, but it was 12:02 when I posted it.**
I got an unexpected surprise today. My husband and one of his friends decided to take the kids camping for the weekend. So out of nowhere I got a whole weekend to myself. I love having the house to myself every so often, although this time I do admit I don’t quite know what to do with myself. And I always get nervous when the kids go camping. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I trust my husband explicitly. It’s the wandering bear or mountain lion who might mistake my luscious blonde haired, blue eyed children as a mid-day snack. Or of an uncoordinated kid step straight into the fire. Or the odd tumble down a mountain. Those are the things that run through my crazy head when my kids go camping.
Well that and sushi. I always crave sushi when I’m on my own. Probably because I almost never get to have it so when I think of ways to pamper myself, sushi is always the first thing that jumps to my mind. And seaweed salad. Maybe for lunch tomorrow…
H is trying to get me to come to Denver and play for the day tomorrow (he tried for tonight but my fantasy football draft is tomorrow earlier than would be easy to get back here when I’ve been up half the night drinking and throwing darts). If I can talk them into sushi I may just head that way. What else am I going to do? Sit on the couch and re-watch movies I’ve seen way too many times to admit? Yeah, I really should make better use of this gift.
Instead I have been prepping for the draft tomorrow morning. Reading my favorite ESPN fantasy writer, getting my draft line-up organized so that I have everything all set-up for what I want and what I need. And I am nervous. I’m always nervous going up against these women. They are brilliant and all have the sharpest wit I’ve ever known. Plus? They are really pissed off that I’ve won the last two years. So I’m not foreseeing a whole lot of welcome from their general direction.
We shall see what tomorrow holds.
I got an unexpected surprise today. My husband and one of his friends decided to take the kids camping for the weekend. So out of nowhere I got a whole weekend to myself. I love having the house to myself every so often, although this time I do admit I don’t quite know what to do with myself. And I always get nervous when the kids go camping. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I trust my husband explicitly. It’s the wandering bear or mountain lion who might mistake my luscious blonde haired, blue eyed children as a mid-day snack. Or of an uncoordinated kid step straight into the fire. Or the odd tumble down a mountain. Those are the things that run through my crazy head when my kids go camping.
Well that and sushi. I always crave sushi when I’m on my own. Probably because I almost never get to have it so when I think of ways to pamper myself, sushi is always the first thing that jumps to my mind. And seaweed salad. Maybe for lunch tomorrow…
H is trying to get me to come to Denver and play for the day tomorrow (he tried for tonight but my fantasy football draft is tomorrow earlier than would be easy to get back here when I’ve been up half the night drinking and throwing darts). If I can talk them into sushi I may just head that way. What else am I going to do? Sit on the couch and re-watch movies I’ve seen way too many times to admit? Yeah, I really should make better use of this gift.
Instead I have been prepping for the draft tomorrow morning. Reading my favorite ESPN fantasy writer, getting my draft line-up organized so that I have everything all set-up for what I want and what I need. And I am nervous. I’m always nervous going up against these women. They are brilliant and all have the sharpest wit I’ve ever known. Plus? They are really pissed off that I’ve won the last two years. So I’m not foreseeing a whole lot of welcome from their general direction.
We shall see what tomorrow holds.
8/20/09
Double Gemini
I’ve always tried not to put too much stock in astrology, because well, let’s face it, it’s a wee bit woo-woo for me. But there are certain aspects that just really make sense. Like what it means to be a Gemini. My mom had my astrological chart done once and I remember her saying that Gemini was also my rising sign; making me a double Gemini. And if I weren’t the stinking poster child for what it means to be a Gemini, I probably would have dismissed it.
I most certainly have this duality. Ever present, always squabbling away in the back (or front) of my mind. Which is why I can write yesterday that I have an unfailing faith that everything will work out, and today (as the creditors have started calling) I can be freaking out and not know what the hell I was talking about. Why I can be 33 years old and still love having blue hair and wanting a new tattoo. Why I can at the same time be so afraid of getting in trouble for sending in bills late.
I have this part of me that is desperate to follow all the rules while the other side is constantly giving the middle finger to every and all form of authority.
What I think I’m trying to learn this year is balance. Because I have very marked periods in my life that were ruled by one side or the other and I’ve just never managed to see any kind of real success when I make choices without balance. I’ve been working diligently on bringing more of my life into balance. Taking it easier on myself when the scales shift a bit and then gently setting them straight. And this has been one o f the hardest years of my life. So I guess there is still a large part of me far, far away from any kind of transcendence because man am I bitter that I’m working so hard and still having it be so hard.
So perhaps my goal is balance and acceptance. Being willing to accept the fruits of my labor regardless of how unpleasant they may be.
I most certainly have this duality. Ever present, always squabbling away in the back (or front) of my mind. Which is why I can write yesterday that I have an unfailing faith that everything will work out, and today (as the creditors have started calling) I can be freaking out and not know what the hell I was talking about. Why I can be 33 years old and still love having blue hair and wanting a new tattoo. Why I can at the same time be so afraid of getting in trouble for sending in bills late.
I have this part of me that is desperate to follow all the rules while the other side is constantly giving the middle finger to every and all form of authority.
What I think I’m trying to learn this year is balance. Because I have very marked periods in my life that were ruled by one side or the other and I’ve just never managed to see any kind of real success when I make choices without balance. I’ve been working diligently on bringing more of my life into balance. Taking it easier on myself when the scales shift a bit and then gently setting them straight. And this has been one o f the hardest years of my life. So I guess there is still a large part of me far, far away from any kind of transcendence because man am I bitter that I’m working so hard and still having it be so hard.
So perhaps my goal is balance and acceptance. Being willing to accept the fruits of my labor regardless of how unpleasant they may be.
8/19/09
Teetering
Life just keeps piling things on. We’re 99% sure that The Girl has asthma. And she has started having abdominal migraines on top of the regular kind. Granted, if asthma and migraines are the only things she has to deal with on a long-term basis, I’ll count my blessings, but still. No three year old should have to deal with this crap.
And we discovered last night that our refrigerator sprung a leak at some point and got to the point where it had seeped through the floor into the threshold above the door to our laundry room. Who knows what the drywall/floorboard damage will be when it dries out.
The medical bills just keep rolling in from The Girl’s hospitalization and now The Boy’s concussion.
And I can feel myself teetering on the edge of a full blown pity party. I can feel myself being on the verge of tears pretty much all the time the last few days. I can feel myself being drug down by the sheer weight of it all. Even though drywall just isn’t that heavy. And it just sucks. I know that I’m stronger than all of this. I know that we are indeed being taken care of and that everything will work out one way or another. I know that I am exactly where I should be. And where I am needed. But it still sucks. And I’m tired.
There is a bit of a battle raging in me at the moment. There is the part of me that utterly and completely (maybe for the first time in my life) trusts that the universe is preparing something amazing and wonderful for me and my family. And there is the part of me that is ready to give up from absolute fatigue. It’s been a long year.
So I am trying to just listen to my heart. I’m trying to figure out how to call to me the love and support I know is there. I’m trying to just be in every moment, present and authentic. I’m trying to figure out how and what to ask for, because I’m never going to get something I don’t ask for.
And we discovered last night that our refrigerator sprung a leak at some point and got to the point where it had seeped through the floor into the threshold above the door to our laundry room. Who knows what the drywall/floorboard damage will be when it dries out.
The medical bills just keep rolling in from The Girl’s hospitalization and now The Boy’s concussion.
And I can feel myself teetering on the edge of a full blown pity party. I can feel myself being on the verge of tears pretty much all the time the last few days. I can feel myself being drug down by the sheer weight of it all. Even though drywall just isn’t that heavy. And it just sucks. I know that I’m stronger than all of this. I know that we are indeed being taken care of and that everything will work out one way or another. I know that I am exactly where I should be. And where I am needed. But it still sucks. And I’m tired.
There is a bit of a battle raging in me at the moment. There is the part of me that utterly and completely (maybe for the first time in my life) trusts that the universe is preparing something amazing and wonderful for me and my family. And there is the part of me that is ready to give up from absolute fatigue. It’s been a long year.
So I am trying to just listen to my heart. I’m trying to figure out how to call to me the love and support I know is there. I’m trying to just be in every moment, present and authentic. I’m trying to figure out how and what to ask for, because I’m never going to get something I don’t ask for.
8/18/09
Rain, Rain...
I really love the rain. I love to play in it. I love the clean smell it leaves behind. I love how it can cool even the warmest of summer nights. I love waking up the next day after a rainstorm and seeing how green and alive everything is. I love the sound of it against the windows and skylight in our bathroom. I love the rain; it makes me all cozy and introspective. I really think I should live in the Pacific Northwest I love the rain so much.
And we had the mother of all rain storms last night. It let loose just after we finally got the kids to bed with its wind and hail and rivers of water flowing off our roof. And it continued for most of the night with that level of intensity. But for whatever reason, being all wound up about not getting this job or worrying about The Girl or thinking about what I was going to do next or whatever, in conjunction with the severity of this particular rain storm, I suddenly found myself really, really irritated with the rain.
Irritated that whoever designed our house directed the second level gutter drainage right at the front door so it leaks and is slowly sinking into our doorstep. Irritated that the soft pitter patter that usually emanates from rain drops hitting our skylight turned into a loud, obnoxious din, thus keeping me awake for half the night. Irritated that today my internet and phone service are all screwed up, and yes, I am blaming it on the rain. Irritated that our recently clean dogs are now caked with mud and matted fur.
I’m well aware that I may very well be playing the rain for a scapegoat. That all of this irritation and lack of sleep could very well have nothing to do with the rain and much more to do with being disappointed, nervous and out of answers.
But regardless of whether the rain is simply an innocent bystander or a tangible illustration of my own mind state, if it’s going to stick around, I wish it would wash away the irritation while it’s at it.
And we had the mother of all rain storms last night. It let loose just after we finally got the kids to bed with its wind and hail and rivers of water flowing off our roof. And it continued for most of the night with that level of intensity. But for whatever reason, being all wound up about not getting this job or worrying about The Girl or thinking about what I was going to do next or whatever, in conjunction with the severity of this particular rain storm, I suddenly found myself really, really irritated with the rain.
Irritated that whoever designed our house directed the second level gutter drainage right at the front door so it leaks and is slowly sinking into our doorstep. Irritated that the soft pitter patter that usually emanates from rain drops hitting our skylight turned into a loud, obnoxious din, thus keeping me awake for half the night. Irritated that today my internet and phone service are all screwed up, and yes, I am blaming it on the rain. Irritated that our recently clean dogs are now caked with mud and matted fur.
I’m well aware that I may very well be playing the rain for a scapegoat. That all of this irritation and lack of sleep could very well have nothing to do with the rain and much more to do with being disappointed, nervous and out of answers.
But regardless of whether the rain is simply an innocent bystander or a tangible illustration of my own mind state, if it’s going to stick around, I wish it would wash away the irritation while it’s at it.
8/17/09
Over and Over
I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t get the job.
Dream. Scream. Cry and sigh.
Dream. Scream. Cry and sigh.
8/16/09
Deja Vu Panic
Speaking of barking. The Girl woke up with a big, bad, barky cough this morning. She has a low grade fever. And I was immediately filled with the panic that filled most of this past winter and spring. We immediately did a nebulizer treatment with her, which didn’t seem to have any immediate effect. We’re out of the liquid steroid we usually give her when she has the croup. The only solace that I’m taking from this is that, to date, her bouts of pneumonia haven’t ever stemmed from the croup. And that her fever is not currently rising. Other than being a bit whiny and obviously feeling a wee bit punk, you wouldn’t know she was sick other than when she coughs this horrible, gut wrenching bark.
So we’re going to have to stick close to home for the day in an effort to de-rail the bark and keep her fever low. My husband is washing dogs and I am putting that panic on a very short leash because as of right now, there’s not much to worry about. We have weathered more croupy outbreaks with The Boy than I can remember. Until this past winter, I was never really afraid of the croup. It was totally manageable and not a source of fear. But now every time The Girl feels just a bit warm, or her nose starts running, or heaven forbid, she starts coughing even just a little, I spin into déjà vu panic.
But I am just trying to keep present. And realize that this is now and that was then. That just because she had one febrile seizure does not mean she will ever have another one. That just because we’ve only had about two months with her being healthy does not mean we are in for another nightmare repeat.
That I just have to keep on with this whole year’s worth of lessons: patience and having the courage to just be entirely present in whatever moment I find myself in. I have to be patient with the process of this life and with the moment. And I have to be present enough to see the fruit of that patience.
So we’re going to have to stick close to home for the day in an effort to de-rail the bark and keep her fever low. My husband is washing dogs and I am putting that panic on a very short leash because as of right now, there’s not much to worry about. We have weathered more croupy outbreaks with The Boy than I can remember. Until this past winter, I was never really afraid of the croup. It was totally manageable and not a source of fear. But now every time The Girl feels just a bit warm, or her nose starts running, or heaven forbid, she starts coughing even just a little, I spin into déjà vu panic.
But I am just trying to keep present. And realize that this is now and that was then. That just because she had one febrile seizure does not mean she will ever have another one. That just because we’ve only had about two months with her being healthy does not mean we are in for another nightmare repeat.
That I just have to keep on with this whole year’s worth of lessons: patience and having the courage to just be entirely present in whatever moment I find myself in. I have to be patient with the process of this life and with the moment. And I have to be present enough to see the fruit of that patience.
8/15/09 - Frustra-shon
The Girl and I didn’t go anywhere yesterday. We just hung out all day and played, caught up on some house stuff and relaxed. I didn’t even check my cell phone because everyone that I know knows that my cell phone lives in the car. That unless I am out and about, I don’t even give a second thought to my cell. That calling me at home is definitely the best option for getting a hold of me. Well almost everyone I know. Because when we got in the car today to go run errands, I looked at my cell to find one new voicemail. And it was from THE administrative big whig. Calling to talk to me about the position I had interviewed for. And the call had come at 9:30am on Friday morning.
Damnit!!!
So. Even though it was Saturday and I knew no one would get the message, I called him back immediately to say that I had only just gotten his message and that I would call back first thing Monday morning. I was pretty upset. But know that there’s nothing more I can do until Monday, so I’ve gone back to trying to forget about the whole thing and just enjoy my weekend with my family. It’s sort of working. My mind is running wild with imagined conversations that might have happened if I had only checked my voicemail sooner, but I’m doing my best to just not listen.
Instead I’m looking forward to delving deeper into the second season of Deadwood when the kids go to bed. And trying to come up with something purely fun to do with the kiddos tomorrow since all we did today was chores and errands. Maybe we’ll go see a movie or if it’s nice and warm maybe we’ll go to a fountain or just get in the pool in our backyard. I would just really love to have a footloose and fancy free day with my family tomorrow. It’s been a while since we’ve had one of those.
A day of fun should keep my brain on a leash. Or at the very least barking somewhere I don’t have to hear it.
Damnit!!!
So. Even though it was Saturday and I knew no one would get the message, I called him back immediately to say that I had only just gotten his message and that I would call back first thing Monday morning. I was pretty upset. But know that there’s nothing more I can do until Monday, so I’ve gone back to trying to forget about the whole thing and just enjoy my weekend with my family. It’s sort of working. My mind is running wild with imagined conversations that might have happened if I had only checked my voicemail sooner, but I’m doing my best to just not listen.
Instead I’m looking forward to delving deeper into the second season of Deadwood when the kids go to bed. And trying to come up with something purely fun to do with the kiddos tomorrow since all we did today was chores and errands. Maybe we’ll go see a movie or if it’s nice and warm maybe we’ll go to a fountain or just get in the pool in our backyard. I would just really love to have a footloose and fancy free day with my family tomorrow. It’s been a while since we’ve had one of those.
A day of fun should keep my brain on a leash. Or at the very least barking somewhere I don’t have to hear it.
8/14/09
Lazy Day
There is something to be said for lazy days. I mean one of my most favorite things in the world is making a to-do list and methodically checking off every last item. There is a tremendous sense of accomplishment in that, even if only in the most trivial of senses.
But every once in a while I just really like to have days where I hang out and do whatever moves me through the day. Putting on clean workout clothes and then not working out. Playing on the computer. Building Lego’s and playing board games with The Girl. Telling her how pretty she is when she gets all gussied up in her finest of princess/fairy dress up clothes and dons her fanciest tiara. It is a lovely thing to just be able to play and lounge and be without agenda. Even when I have more items than I would like to admit on my to-do list.
The Girl and I had just one of these days today and it was lovely. She curled up on the couch and slipped into sleep while watching a movie and I let her sleep while I took the opportunity to jump in the shower solo for a change. After reluctantly waking her (an easy bedtime is vastly more important than a few quiet moments in the afternoon) we spent the rest of the hour or so before The Boy and my husband got home cuddling without guilt.
Watching The Boy start school and remembering how fast time goes (and it only seems to be picking up speed) I have just been really trying to slow down and enjoy the time I have with my children as they are in every moment. And granted, some of those moments are filled with nothing more than my want to punt them for mouthing off or not listening, but mostly I am just rediscovering their joy. Focusing on the playtime instead of just what has to be done next. Recommitting, in a way, to being present and authentic in every possible way.
And trying not to count the days since my interview. Definitely not counting down the days until I might hear back.
But every once in a while I just really like to have days where I hang out and do whatever moves me through the day. Putting on clean workout clothes and then not working out. Playing on the computer. Building Lego’s and playing board games with The Girl. Telling her how pretty she is when she gets all gussied up in her finest of princess/fairy dress up clothes and dons her fanciest tiara. It is a lovely thing to just be able to play and lounge and be without agenda. Even when I have more items than I would like to admit on my to-do list.
The Girl and I had just one of these days today and it was lovely. She curled up on the couch and slipped into sleep while watching a movie and I let her sleep while I took the opportunity to jump in the shower solo for a change. After reluctantly waking her (an easy bedtime is vastly more important than a few quiet moments in the afternoon) we spent the rest of the hour or so before The Boy and my husband got home cuddling without guilt.
Watching The Boy start school and remembering how fast time goes (and it only seems to be picking up speed) I have just been really trying to slow down and enjoy the time I have with my children as they are in every moment. And granted, some of those moments are filled with nothing more than my want to punt them for mouthing off or not listening, but mostly I am just rediscovering their joy. Focusing on the playtime instead of just what has to be done next. Recommitting, in a way, to being present and authentic in every possible way.
And trying not to count the days since my interview. Definitely not counting down the days until I might hear back.
8/13/09
The Gifts of Rain
The Girl and I went to “big playdate” today. I’ve been a part of a mom’s group here for years and they have had a weekly playdate at the same park, on the same day since the group’s inception. And I used to go religiously. And then life got crazy and I pretty much stopped going for the last year. But I thought now that it was just The Girl and me that it would be a fun thing for her to do again to keep up with her social interaction and get me back out into the world of friends and community.
And I don’t think it was until today that it truly sank in how very much I’ve changed over the past year. Seeing these women who used to be such intimate pieces of my everyday life and who became casualties to the deep, soul-level contraction that I put my life through over the last year really illustrated in black and white the fruits of my labor.
There was a time when I would've seen any of these women and focused only on how much thinner or prettier or successful they were than me. Or how much better behaved their children were. Or any number of other deficiencies that I saw in myself. And today as I was standing under a huge tree dodging the pouring rain with one of these women, catching up a bit after not seeing each other at all over the last year, that I realized that I wasn’t doing any of that. I was purely, and completely, focused on the simple fact that we were sharing space and it was lovely to see them. Focused on how big all of our children have grown.
I cannot tell you what a gift that realization was. To have the self-given permission to simply just be. To not have the need to hide or cover up or suck in or brush over any number of self-perceived faults and blemishes. To allow myself to be taken exactly where I am. Right now. And to be able to in turn see them for all of their glory and beauty. I love the rain.
And I don’t think it was until today that it truly sank in how very much I’ve changed over the past year. Seeing these women who used to be such intimate pieces of my everyday life and who became casualties to the deep, soul-level contraction that I put my life through over the last year really illustrated in black and white the fruits of my labor.
There was a time when I would've seen any of these women and focused only on how much thinner or prettier or successful they were than me. Or how much better behaved their children were. Or any number of other deficiencies that I saw in myself. And today as I was standing under a huge tree dodging the pouring rain with one of these women, catching up a bit after not seeing each other at all over the last year, that I realized that I wasn’t doing any of that. I was purely, and completely, focused on the simple fact that we were sharing space and it was lovely to see them. Focused on how big all of our children have grown.
I cannot tell you what a gift that realization was. To have the self-given permission to simply just be. To not have the need to hide or cover up or suck in or brush over any number of self-perceived faults and blemishes. To allow myself to be taken exactly where I am. Right now. And to be able to in turn see them for all of their glory and beauty. I love the rain.
8/12/09
Fantasy Research
The Girl tried to bring a baby home in her pocket today. We went to go see J’s brand new baby boy today and The Girl fell promptly in love with him. She held him several times and petted his cheeks and arms and cooed over him. She asked more than once when we could get a baby of our own; when I was going to give her a baby from my belly. “Maybe for Brother’s birthday?” Yeah. That’s a hard conversation to have with a three year old.
The Boy has been begging for a baby too. He has started double-teaming us now by not just asking me, but also asking my husband. We’re being ganged up on. It’s not really all that fair.
I also just realized today that my fantasy football draft is only 9 days away. Eek! As I believe I’ve mentioned before (and if I didn’t I sure as hell should have, it’s serious bragging rights) I am the two time reigning champion of my fantasy football league. This means a couple of things. The first and foremost is that the rest of the league is going to be seriously gunning for me this year. Last year they probably just figured it was a fluke, but then I won again (and stole the title on a rogue game that my opponent should have won), so it’s serious game on this year. And it also means that now I have some serious defending to do. I need to buckle down and get my research done so I can pad my roster with my choice rookies (assuming I don’t get totally hosed in the draft order this year like I did last year) as well as getting my top players.
I play in an all girl, pretty bad ass league made up of some of the smartest, wittiest women I know. So even the banter and trash talk can get intimidating at times. I’m pretty sure the gloves will be off this year. So I need to get all of this baby talk out of my head and concentrate on my pre-draft research already. It’s time to get my priorities in order!
The Boy has been begging for a baby too. He has started double-teaming us now by not just asking me, but also asking my husband. We’re being ganged up on. It’s not really all that fair.
I also just realized today that my fantasy football draft is only 9 days away. Eek! As I believe I’ve mentioned before (and if I didn’t I sure as hell should have, it’s serious bragging rights) I am the two time reigning champion of my fantasy football league. This means a couple of things. The first and foremost is that the rest of the league is going to be seriously gunning for me this year. Last year they probably just figured it was a fluke, but then I won again (and stole the title on a rogue game that my opponent should have won), so it’s serious game on this year. And it also means that now I have some serious defending to do. I need to buckle down and get my research done so I can pad my roster with my choice rookies (assuming I don’t get totally hosed in the draft order this year like I did last year) as well as getting my top players.
I play in an all girl, pretty bad ass league made up of some of the smartest, wittiest women I know. So even the banter and trash talk can get intimidating at times. I’m pretty sure the gloves will be off this year. So I need to get all of this baby talk out of my head and concentrate on my pre-draft research already. It’s time to get my priorities in order!
8/11/09
And Ode to E
My friend E is one of the most amazing women I know. She has this innate sense of community and family that is so heartfelt and honest. She is strong and creative in ways that I deeply appreciate. And she is struggling right now.
She is pregnant with their third baby right now and going into it she knew that it would be a high risk pregnancy. But she got some news a couple of weeks ago that really drove home how high risk it is right now. So her mind took off in a gallop of worst case scenarios that has her reeling from a prognostic future that is much to her dislike. The prospect of having a premature baby, of her getting sick, of the baby stopping growing before he or she should are all swirling around in a cloud of fear and stress. Having to plan now for an imminent prescription of bed rest and extended time off of work only adds to the burden.
And while my heart goes out to her in this time of upheaval, what really gets me the most is that in the midst of all of this, she is still just glowing. She is gorgeous and determined and dedicated to the health of her family no matter what the future holds.
So I listened today while the kiddos played in the background; our daughters at their sweetest plotting together different ways to come and tell us how much they loved us. And gave her tissues and told her that hell yes she should be scared while sharing my own personal mantra – we all are exactly where we’re supposed to be.
I hope she was able to gain some comfort from being able to vent and cry and I hope that I was able to help her see things in a smidgeon of more positive light. Because this woman, and our friendship, mean the world to me. I adore her and her family thoroughly and I would do most anything to be of help to them. I hope that she always remembers that.
And I am glad she reads this blog, because this one is for her.
She is pregnant with their third baby right now and going into it she knew that it would be a high risk pregnancy. But she got some news a couple of weeks ago that really drove home how high risk it is right now. So her mind took off in a gallop of worst case scenarios that has her reeling from a prognostic future that is much to her dislike. The prospect of having a premature baby, of her getting sick, of the baby stopping growing before he or she should are all swirling around in a cloud of fear and stress. Having to plan now for an imminent prescription of bed rest and extended time off of work only adds to the burden.
And while my heart goes out to her in this time of upheaval, what really gets me the most is that in the midst of all of this, she is still just glowing. She is gorgeous and determined and dedicated to the health of her family no matter what the future holds.
So I listened today while the kiddos played in the background; our daughters at their sweetest plotting together different ways to come and tell us how much they loved us. And gave her tissues and told her that hell yes she should be scared while sharing my own personal mantra – we all are exactly where we’re supposed to be.
I hope she was able to gain some comfort from being able to vent and cry and I hope that I was able to help her see things in a smidgeon of more positive light. Because this woman, and our friendship, mean the world to me. I adore her and her family thoroughly and I would do most anything to be of help to them. I hope that she always remembers that.
And I am glad she reads this blog, because this one is for her.
8/10/09
The Forgetting
I wrote thank you notes to the people I interviewed with today. And I was thinking that I’d just be able to sit down and write the suckers off the top of my head. Unfortunately for C, that is not at all how that happened. After writing two or three drafts I emailed her in a panic asking, once more, for help in the self promotion arena. And she came through, of course. She told me so very, very gently to buck up and stop writing about myself like I was a big fat wuss. And I appreciated it, I really did.
I finally got them done and sent. And now I’m just trying to forget all about it actually. I think I’ve done everything I can do. I have my fingers crossed. I’ve asked the universe to please come through on this one. I’ve got just about everyone I know pulling for me and sending all of the “she is going to get this job” vibes they can muster. I interviewed really well. I sent well written and well thought out thank you notes. Now all I can do is wait.
But for me the waiting in dangerous. Because my brain tends to take perfectly good things that I’ve done and warp them into what must have surely been crazy and totally stupid things. My brain likes to sabotage the hell out of me and my hope. It’s just mean. But true nonetheless. So I’m trying to just let it go and forget about it in the hopes that I’ll pull the plug on my brain’s power over me. So that I can look at this whole experience and know that I put everything I had into it and if I still don’t get the job it’s just because it wasn’t meant to be, not because I screwed something up as I’m sure my brain will try to tell me.
So I’m shutting it down. Willfully ignoring my brain and opting for better judgment. Yep. See here I go. Forgetting. Will you remind me that I chose to forget this when I’m freaking out in another week because I haven’t heard from them yet?
I finally got them done and sent. And now I’m just trying to forget all about it actually. I think I’ve done everything I can do. I have my fingers crossed. I’ve asked the universe to please come through on this one. I’ve got just about everyone I know pulling for me and sending all of the “she is going to get this job” vibes they can muster. I interviewed really well. I sent well written and well thought out thank you notes. Now all I can do is wait.
But for me the waiting in dangerous. Because my brain tends to take perfectly good things that I’ve done and warp them into what must have surely been crazy and totally stupid things. My brain likes to sabotage the hell out of me and my hope. It’s just mean. But true nonetheless. So I’m trying to just let it go and forget about it in the hopes that I’ll pull the plug on my brain’s power over me. So that I can look at this whole experience and know that I put everything I had into it and if I still don’t get the job it’s just because it wasn’t meant to be, not because I screwed something up as I’m sure my brain will try to tell me.
So I’m shutting it down. Willfully ignoring my brain and opting for better judgment. Yep. See here I go. Forgetting. Will you remind me that I chose to forget this when I’m freaking out in another week because I haven’t heard from them yet?
8/9/09
Life in the Slow Lane
**I'm sorry I dropped off the face of the earth without warning!! But I left the state and didn't have any cell service, let alone internet access. So I'm sorry these are all so late, but here they are for your reading enjoyment!**
Among several others of my most attractive personality traits, I think I’ve well documented my lack of patience. I hate waiting. But wait for a couple of weeks I shall have to do. And maybe waiting this time will be a little more bearable because I’m still full of the feeling the interview left me with as well as the joy of seeing friends. I find myself actually looking forward to the upcoming week. Having the opportunity to just hang out with The Girl while The Boy is in school. She and I having the chance to just make up our days as we go along because we have absolutely nothing on our calendar this week. It’s a rare freedom, and I’m intent on enjoying every minute of it.
So in the midst of the waiting, there is actually a whole week to look forward to. Maybe we’ll go to the zoo or the natural history museum. Or maybe I’ll take her swimming. Or just sit out on the front step and laugh as she plays in the sprinklers. I think we’ll go back to the library since she loves it so much.
I’m pretty sure that our neighborhood school starts this week, so she won’t have any friends to play with. It’s really just she and I.
This is a chance for her to be an only child of sorts. The Boy had almost three whole years of being an only child before she came along. But The Girl has never really had the experience of having all of my attention at her beck and call. And I’ve never had it to give. With the prospect of me going back to work full-time and her going to a full day daycare or preschool, the idea of being able to just be with my daughter is rather appealing.
The Boy starting first grade has really reminded me of how fast childhood passes. And with the hopeful possibility of our lives getting a lot faster and busier in the months to come, I’m going to take advantage of this slow time to enjoy my children and my life before change takes over, one way or another.
Among several others of my most attractive personality traits, I think I’ve well documented my lack of patience. I hate waiting. But wait for a couple of weeks I shall have to do. And maybe waiting this time will be a little more bearable because I’m still full of the feeling the interview left me with as well as the joy of seeing friends. I find myself actually looking forward to the upcoming week. Having the opportunity to just hang out with The Girl while The Boy is in school. She and I having the chance to just make up our days as we go along because we have absolutely nothing on our calendar this week. It’s a rare freedom, and I’m intent on enjoying every minute of it.
So in the midst of the waiting, there is actually a whole week to look forward to. Maybe we’ll go to the zoo or the natural history museum. Or maybe I’ll take her swimming. Or just sit out on the front step and laugh as she plays in the sprinklers. I think we’ll go back to the library since she loves it so much.
I’m pretty sure that our neighborhood school starts this week, so she won’t have any friends to play with. It’s really just she and I.
This is a chance for her to be an only child of sorts. The Boy had almost three whole years of being an only child before she came along. But The Girl has never really had the experience of having all of my attention at her beck and call. And I’ve never had it to give. With the prospect of me going back to work full-time and her going to a full day daycare or preschool, the idea of being able to just be with my daughter is rather appealing.
The Boy starting first grade has really reminded me of how fast childhood passes. And with the hopeful possibility of our lives getting a lot faster and busier in the months to come, I’m going to take advantage of this slow time to enjoy my children and my life before change takes over, one way or another.
8/8/09 - Lovely Friends
Holy headache Batman. The phone ringing woke me up this morning. Startled me awake because the room I was sleeping in was completely dark so I was shocked to see that it was already 9am. I bolted upright and got smacked with a nasty headache and the night before came rushing back to me as the pain settled in behind my eyes.
I got to hang out with some of my most favorite people last night and it was so fun that I was really sad to see them all leave. We ate amazing food, drank tasty beverages, chatted and caught up and laughed loudly. It was crazy to think that it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them. At least 6 years with most if not longer for the rest. Since then we have almost all gotten married and had kids. We all have specially requested dishes we bring to potluck get togethers. We look at our watches and gasp when it’s 10:30pm. We trade stories about what goofy things our kids have done lately instead of what goofy escapades we had the weekend before.
It was amazing for me to see how thoroughly everyone’s lives have changed, including my own, and yet how we all still fit together. I’m embarrassed to say that I think I underestimated my friendships with these lovely people. I think I thought that after that many years; surely there would be awkward moments, perhaps a touch of bitterness at the distance or length of time. At the very least a grace period to get reacquainted. But there was none of that. We still all fit together as if there was never any distance or length of time. And I am so completely grateful for that fact that it brings tears to my eyes. I love these people. And apparently they love me back. They are all just as excited as I am about the prospect of us moving back.
The only missing piece was my husband who sadly had to work. But he can rest assured that we toasted him from afar and his name was never far from the conversation. We all love him too.
I got to hang out with some of my most favorite people last night and it was so fun that I was really sad to see them all leave. We ate amazing food, drank tasty beverages, chatted and caught up and laughed loudly. It was crazy to think that it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them. At least 6 years with most if not longer for the rest. Since then we have almost all gotten married and had kids. We all have specially requested dishes we bring to potluck get togethers. We look at our watches and gasp when it’s 10:30pm. We trade stories about what goofy things our kids have done lately instead of what goofy escapades we had the weekend before.
It was amazing for me to see how thoroughly everyone’s lives have changed, including my own, and yet how we all still fit together. I’m embarrassed to say that I think I underestimated my friendships with these lovely people. I think I thought that after that many years; surely there would be awkward moments, perhaps a touch of bitterness at the distance or length of time. At the very least a grace period to get reacquainted. But there was none of that. We still all fit together as if there was never any distance or length of time. And I am so completely grateful for that fact that it brings tears to my eyes. I love these people. And apparently they love me back. They are all just as excited as I am about the prospect of us moving back.
The only missing piece was my husband who sadly had to work. But he can rest assured that we toasted him from afar and his name was never far from the conversation. We all love him too.
8/7/09 - I Day
Today was the day. The day that started off quietly with me drinking coffee and watching the campus wake up. The day that I was so worried about. The day where I would interview with 29 people (literally) over the course of an entire day for a position I really want. And it went by so quickly it left my head spinning. Pretty literally. Driving away from campus I almost had to pull over. I felt drunk; my head spinning and totally overwhelmed. But in the best possible way. I had so much fun. And that’s an outcome that never once crossed my mind. But that is exactly what happened.
My time interviewing with the administration big whigs had me working in the vision of the position. Plans for what is to come and strategy. My time spent with the search committee and other staff members was much more focused on the concrete and nitty gritty of the day to day job responsibilities. So it was fun to go back and forth from ethereal strategic planning to specifics of how the infrastructure works. And meeting (or re-meeting) all of these people was all at the same time intimidating, engaging, lovely and left me feeling totally amped up and completely ready to start the job tomorrow. It was, without a doubt and quite surprisingly, the best interview I’ve ever had.
I was utterly me through the whole thing. I tried to strike a balance between my professional side and my family. Because both sides are extremely important to me, so I tried to leave them with that impression of me. That my life is about balance, or at the very least that is what I struggle to make it. I let myself be funny and smart. I was grateful and humble while at the same time leaving no doubt that I know exactly what I’m talking about.
I felt powerful and so completely rooted in my own strength that I didn’t really want the whole thing to end. But end it did. And they said they’d be in touch in the next two weeks. Do you think I can keep my fingers crossed for that long?
My time interviewing with the administration big whigs had me working in the vision of the position. Plans for what is to come and strategy. My time spent with the search committee and other staff members was much more focused on the concrete and nitty gritty of the day to day job responsibilities. So it was fun to go back and forth from ethereal strategic planning to specifics of how the infrastructure works. And meeting (or re-meeting) all of these people was all at the same time intimidating, engaging, lovely and left me feeling totally amped up and completely ready to start the job tomorrow. It was, without a doubt and quite surprisingly, the best interview I’ve ever had.
I was utterly me through the whole thing. I tried to strike a balance between my professional side and my family. Because both sides are extremely important to me, so I tried to leave them with that impression of me. That my life is about balance, or at the very least that is what I struggle to make it. I let myself be funny and smart. I was grateful and humble while at the same time leaving no doubt that I know exactly what I’m talking about.
I felt powerful and so completely rooted in my own strength that I didn’t really want the whole thing to end. But end it did. And they said they’d be in touch in the next two weeks. Do you think I can keep my fingers crossed for that long?
8/6/09 - Home Sweet College
I’m here. Back at my alma mater. Except that it only sort of resembles the school that I left 10 years ago. There are new academic buildings and residence halls and almost every single older building has been completely renovated. The town has also completely changed. There are bright shiny new buildings where there used to be mom and pop hotels. Old buildings have new coats of paint or shingles or siding and new names. But the shoe store I used to live over is still there. The sign is even still the same. I would love to go knock on the door just to see if it still looks the same. The old gorgeous movie theater that I always loved is still there and the people who run it are still so very, very kind (I don’t have cell service anywhere in town so I pulled in to borrow their phone). There’s a brand new hospital to replace the quaint “please call before you come so we can have a nurse on hand to help you” one that was here while I was in college and had to utilize when a kidney infection knocked me senseless.
Part of my interview schedule is a campus tour. And I was sort of dreading that part because it would mean walking around outside in the 99 degree heat in a suit for an hour. But now I am really looking forward to it. I cannot wait to see what my college has grown into and learn about where it’s going next. The campus is still so gorgeous and green and everyone is just as nice as I remember.
The HR Director took me out to dinner when I got here and I ran into an old friend outside the restaurant. I have always loved that about this small town. Everyone says hello and excuse me and thank you. And you run into friends without even trying. It was nice to see his face. And if I had cell service, we’d probably be having a beer right now and catching up.
Instead I’m sitting in this totally posh room they put me in, really looking forward to tomorrow.
Part of my interview schedule is a campus tour. And I was sort of dreading that part because it would mean walking around outside in the 99 degree heat in a suit for an hour. But now I am really looking forward to it. I cannot wait to see what my college has grown into and learn about where it’s going next. The campus is still so gorgeous and green and everyone is just as nice as I remember.
The HR Director took me out to dinner when I got here and I ran into an old friend outside the restaurant. I have always loved that about this small town. Everyone says hello and excuse me and thank you. And you run into friends without even trying. It was nice to see his face. And if I had cell service, we’d probably be having a beer right now and catching up.
Instead I’m sitting in this totally posh room they put me in, really looking forward to tomorrow.
8/5/09 - Prep
At this point I’m so tired of thinking about this interview that I can hardly stand it. I’ve spent the last week freaking out with nerves and suffering a massive lack of confidence. Today however, I’ve hit a wall. I’m almost as irritated with myself for ripping the confidence rug out from under my feet as I’m sure all of my friends are. I mean, seriously. How silly can I be? I’m done thinking and obsessing about it. I’m done wondering why I deserve this opportunity. I’m done trying to convince myself that I’m not really qualified for this position. I’m done questioning my abilities.
In fact, I’m so done with it all that I’m just not going to think about it at all until the day of the interview. All done. I’m cutting myself off from my currently preferred method of self-torture.
Instead I’m focusing on the drive there and getting together with all my friends after the interview. I usually listen to music while I’m driving, but I think this time I’ll get a couple of books on CD. The summer before I started college a couple of girlfriends and I road tripped to Michigan and listened to Anne Rice vampire books most of the way there and it was awesome. So I think I’ll find some good brain candy books to listen to on the 8+ hour drive back to my college. Maybe that dragon series that was written by that kid a while back that always intrigued me but I just never picked up. Or if I can find them maybe the Sonya Blue vampire books or the Sookie Stackhouse books. I’ll take The Girl to the library today to see what we can find. Wish me luck on getting her out of there again.
And I’m pulling together a big group of our old friends who still live around our college town for a bit potluck, drink a bunch of beer, get together the night after my interview. I’m so excited to see everyone I can hardly stand it! It’s been years since I’ve seen them all.
See? Full of excitement and reason. Isn’t that a nice change of pace?
In fact, I’m so done with it all that I’m just not going to think about it at all until the day of the interview. All done. I’m cutting myself off from my currently preferred method of self-torture.
Instead I’m focusing on the drive there and getting together with all my friends after the interview. I usually listen to music while I’m driving, but I think this time I’ll get a couple of books on CD. The summer before I started college a couple of girlfriends and I road tripped to Michigan and listened to Anne Rice vampire books most of the way there and it was awesome. So I think I’ll find some good brain candy books to listen to on the 8+ hour drive back to my college. Maybe that dragon series that was written by that kid a while back that always intrigued me but I just never picked up. Or if I can find them maybe the Sonya Blue vampire books or the Sookie Stackhouse books. I’ll take The Girl to the library today to see what we can find. Wish me luck on getting her out of there again.
And I’m pulling together a big group of our old friends who still live around our college town for a bit potluck, drink a bunch of beer, get together the night after my interview. I’m so excited to see everyone I can hardly stand it! It’s been years since I’ve seen them all.
See? Full of excitement and reason. Isn’t that a nice change of pace?
8/4/09
Silliness
I have spent the last week or so driving everyone around me completely crazy with the whole interview with my alma mater thing. Sending out entirely too many emails asking too many silly questions, full of too many silly concerns and being way too self-doubting. I’m sure they’re all ready to just write me off and be done with me after this. And I can’t say that I blame them. I’ve learned over the last several years that one of the primary qualities that people attach to me is confidence. So to see me strip myself almost entirely of confidence drives them nuts. Because I’m totally doing it to myself and it’s needless.
I find myself worrying about what purse I’m going to bring, even though the only purse I have is my every day, brown, canvas bag. Should I even bring a purse? Maybe just my briefcase? I made the mistake of looking at the weather channel to see what the forecast is looking like only to discover that it’s going to be 99 degrees on Friday and I’ll be walking all over campus. Sweltering. Sweating like a pig, looking all shiny and matted and anything but prim and professional. I have a tattoo on my upper right arm that, in the name of being prim and professional, needs to be hidden. So I have to wear a jacket over my sleeveless silk sheath. I mean my (one and only) interview outfit is seriously fierce. But I am going to have heat stroke by the end of the day. I’m pretty sure I’m latching onto all of these silly things in an effort to have something to control in all of this. Because, as I rambled on to one of my very patient friends today, at the end of the day, there is only me. And I am terrified that I will just not be good enough.
I am used to being well within my comfort zone at interviews. Talking about subjects that I know inside and out. And with this interview, I have no real idea what I’m walking into.
And I can’t remember the last time I wanted a job this badly.
I find myself worrying about what purse I’m going to bring, even though the only purse I have is my every day, brown, canvas bag. Should I even bring a purse? Maybe just my briefcase? I made the mistake of looking at the weather channel to see what the forecast is looking like only to discover that it’s going to be 99 degrees on Friday and I’ll be walking all over campus. Sweltering. Sweating like a pig, looking all shiny and matted and anything but prim and professional. I have a tattoo on my upper right arm that, in the name of being prim and professional, needs to be hidden. So I have to wear a jacket over my sleeveless silk sheath. I mean my (one and only) interview outfit is seriously fierce. But I am going to have heat stroke by the end of the day. I’m pretty sure I’m latching onto all of these silly things in an effort to have something to control in all of this. Because, as I rambled on to one of my very patient friends today, at the end of the day, there is only me. And I am terrified that I will just not be good enough.
I am used to being well within my comfort zone at interviews. Talking about subjects that I know inside and out. And with this interview, I have no real idea what I’m walking into.
And I can’t remember the last time I wanted a job this badly.
8/3/09
He's a First Grader Now!
“Hey mom, can you tell me about Michael Jackson?” – The Boy
Here we go. The Boy is officially school age. His exposure to all things pop culture has begun. Although I must say that I’m shocked that it’s starting with Michael Jackson of all people. I mean he hadn’t started his comeback yet and his music is not in our rotation. I grew up loving him. Standing in front of the huge mirror downstairs singing along, trying to dance just a little bit less like a white girl after catching his music videos on MTV at friends’ houses. I loved him in elementary school. But Michael Jackson has not been in my regular music listening habits for years and years.
I was expecting High School Musical perhaps. Or maybe something having to do with Pokemon or some other new fangled role playing game. I was definitely expecting something I had never heard of. Instead? He comes at me with Michael Jackson. So strange. Not that I’m unhappy with it. I would rather talk about Michael Jackson than some vapid new invention someone has come up with bleed parents dry of patience and funds. It will be interesting to see what else he brings home with him.
On another totally surprised note, I expected The Boy to be flat exhausted when I picked him up from school since this is the first time he’s gone to school all day. And his school doesn’t mess around; they start school at 8am and get out at 4pm. So I totally expected him to be asleep before I left the parking lot. But in the ultimate sign that he is indeed more than ready for full day schooling, he didn’t even doze in the car. He was awake and chatting the whole time. You know, picking my brain about Michael Jackson, telling me about his science class and the girl he made friends with but doesn’t remember her name.
We’ve entered a whole new stage of child rearing. And it’s definitely going to keep me on my toes. I can’t wait to see what the weeks to come bring with them and how this new stage changes my Boy.
Here we go. The Boy is officially school age. His exposure to all things pop culture has begun. Although I must say that I’m shocked that it’s starting with Michael Jackson of all people. I mean he hadn’t started his comeback yet and his music is not in our rotation. I grew up loving him. Standing in front of the huge mirror downstairs singing along, trying to dance just a little bit less like a white girl after catching his music videos on MTV at friends’ houses. I loved him in elementary school. But Michael Jackson has not been in my regular music listening habits for years and years.
I was expecting High School Musical perhaps. Or maybe something having to do with Pokemon or some other new fangled role playing game. I was definitely expecting something I had never heard of. Instead? He comes at me with Michael Jackson. So strange. Not that I’m unhappy with it. I would rather talk about Michael Jackson than some vapid new invention someone has come up with bleed parents dry of patience and funds. It will be interesting to see what else he brings home with him.
On another totally surprised note, I expected The Boy to be flat exhausted when I picked him up from school since this is the first time he’s gone to school all day. And his school doesn’t mess around; they start school at 8am and get out at 4pm. So I totally expected him to be asleep before I left the parking lot. But in the ultimate sign that he is indeed more than ready for full day schooling, he didn’t even doze in the car. He was awake and chatting the whole time. You know, picking my brain about Michael Jackson, telling me about his science class and the girl he made friends with but doesn’t remember her name.
We’ve entered a whole new stage of child rearing. And it’s definitely going to keep me on my toes. I can’t wait to see what the weeks to come bring with them and how this new stage changes my Boy.
8/2/09
Speculating
I have spent the last week or so having all sorts of daydreams about The Boy. He starts first grade tomorrow and that has me jumping forward into the next several years as he continues to grow and become more of an individual.
We spent all today watching The X Games on ESPN off and on. He usually would tune in intently during the skateboard and BMX parts. He asked for a skateboard more than once for his upcoming sixth birthday (and The Girl asked for a “cool new bike to do jumps with” as well).
It’s one of the strangest and most wonderful parts of motherhood for me. Speculating on what my children will do and become as they get older. Wondering if they will play sports of some sort or get more into academics or struggle or succeed. Whether they will have more friends than they know what to do with or whether they will feel lonely and outcast.
I’ve been trying to imagine The Boy in those awkward pre-teen years as I’ve watched him start to look so very, very grown up this summer. He’s so tall and his little kid body is starting to show its strength as he grows into it. He has his father’s innate balance and lack of rhythm. He has my power of movement and passing sense of grace. I just can’t quite see his face as anything more than my little boy however. I can see him doing all of these amazing things in soccer or skateboarding or biking, but I can only see him as he is now. Even though I already feel like I recognize him just a little bit less.
He’s started making up jokes and playing with words. He’s started imitating speech patterns and manners of talking in specific situations just to see what sorts of reactions he gets. His imaginative play has reached a whole new level. And I cannot wait to see what being in school all day does for his development and experimentation.
My sweet boy is growing up and I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. I hope I remember that excitement when I’m missing his cuddles.
We spent all today watching The X Games on ESPN off and on. He usually would tune in intently during the skateboard and BMX parts. He asked for a skateboard more than once for his upcoming sixth birthday (and The Girl asked for a “cool new bike to do jumps with” as well).
It’s one of the strangest and most wonderful parts of motherhood for me. Speculating on what my children will do and become as they get older. Wondering if they will play sports of some sort or get more into academics or struggle or succeed. Whether they will have more friends than they know what to do with or whether they will feel lonely and outcast.
I’ve been trying to imagine The Boy in those awkward pre-teen years as I’ve watched him start to look so very, very grown up this summer. He’s so tall and his little kid body is starting to show its strength as he grows into it. He has his father’s innate balance and lack of rhythm. He has my power of movement and passing sense of grace. I just can’t quite see his face as anything more than my little boy however. I can see him doing all of these amazing things in soccer or skateboarding or biking, but I can only see him as he is now. Even though I already feel like I recognize him just a little bit less.
He’s started making up jokes and playing with words. He’s started imitating speech patterns and manners of talking in specific situations just to see what sorts of reactions he gets. His imaginative play has reached a whole new level. And I cannot wait to see what being in school all day does for his development and experimentation.
My sweet boy is growing up and I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. I hope I remember that excitement when I’m missing his cuddles.
8/1/09
Baby Shower
I love baby showers. And my dear friend T really should do baby showers as a side business. She just pours love and adoration over the mama to be, tiaras, coordinating tableware, really wonderful handmade favors (we all made S a plate for the baby) and all. I went to another baby shower today for a friend from college. She’s gorgeous and glowing and just looks so thoroughly happy it just makes me smile to be around her. She knows they are having a girl and they have a lovely name picked out with a super sweet story behind it.
It’s so much fun to watch the anticipation build over the months and really start peaking around the baby shower. Mamas to be start absorbing every single piece of baby advice they can get their heads around. They start asking questions and leaning in to listen to answers they never would have dreamed of waiting to hear. They cry all the time and coo over things they never would have given a second glance before. It’s so sweet and beautiful to watch these amazing friends of mine go from strong, independent women to strong, independent expecting mothers.
And I just find myself so grateful to go on even a piece of this journey with them. Motherhood so completely, irrevocably changed who I am as a person that it’s hard for me to remember life before motherhood. To have the chance to watch these ladies embrace this other part of themselves takes me back to the beginning of my own adventure.
When I so desperately wanted to know everything and didn’t. When I couldn’t wait for that moment when I got to meet my first born, but simultaneously terrified to be the adult in the phrase “use only with adult supervision.” The planning and researching and learning. How everything I was positive that I knew changed immediately upon The Boy’s arrival. And how lovely that surprise was in the end, even if it did send me reeling.
I love being a mother. And it’s such a gift to be able to share that love with these women with whom I’ve shared so much of my life.
It’s so much fun to watch the anticipation build over the months and really start peaking around the baby shower. Mamas to be start absorbing every single piece of baby advice they can get their heads around. They start asking questions and leaning in to listen to answers they never would have dreamed of waiting to hear. They cry all the time and coo over things they never would have given a second glance before. It’s so sweet and beautiful to watch these amazing friends of mine go from strong, independent women to strong, independent expecting mothers.
And I just find myself so grateful to go on even a piece of this journey with them. Motherhood so completely, irrevocably changed who I am as a person that it’s hard for me to remember life before motherhood. To have the chance to watch these ladies embrace this other part of themselves takes me back to the beginning of my own adventure.
When I so desperately wanted to know everything and didn’t. When I couldn’t wait for that moment when I got to meet my first born, but simultaneously terrified to be the adult in the phrase “use only with adult supervision.” The planning and researching and learning. How everything I was positive that I knew changed immediately upon The Boy’s arrival. And how lovely that surprise was in the end, even if it did send me reeling.
I love being a mother. And it’s such a gift to be able to share that love with these women with whom I’ve shared so much of my life.
7/31/09
Settling In
There are a handful of people I’ve met through life that I know will be with me for life. Friends that are truly kindred spirits. People that just get me in every possible way. And I’ve had periods with every single one of them where we didn’t talk very often, even lost touch for months or years. But when we re-connect it’s as if we had just talked yesterday. I’m so thoroughly grateful for these people whether I really have talked to them yesterday or not.
I got to have lunch with B today. I haven’t seen him since I was pregnant with The Boy. He’s lived in three states since I saw him last. He and his wife had a baby girl (who is gorgeous and looks just like him) not too long after we had The Boy. They’ve lived in four different houses. Life has been up and down with lots of change. But he looks exactly the same. And I just can’t tell you how wonderful it was to see him.
B and I became friends at a point in time in my life when I was in the middle of a huge paradigm shift. I was entirely fluid in my being and trying to figure out who and how to be. He was an extraordinary friend through that period and beyond. He has been one of my best friends for about 15 years. And probably will be for the rest of my life. I know that I can go to him and always expect nothing but honesty and kindness (even when those two don’t necessarily go hand in hand) and I know that I will always feel completely, utterly safe with him.
And he got to see me as a mom today, because the kids came with me to lunch. He was a bit taken aback to watch me walk into the restaurant with The Girl on my hip and hand in hand with The Boy. And I got to watch him help The Boy figure out a word puzzle on the kid’s menu.
It’s a lovely thing, to see each of us a bit more settled into our own skin.
I got to have lunch with B today. I haven’t seen him since I was pregnant with The Boy. He’s lived in three states since I saw him last. He and his wife had a baby girl (who is gorgeous and looks just like him) not too long after we had The Boy. They’ve lived in four different houses. Life has been up and down with lots of change. But he looks exactly the same. And I just can’t tell you how wonderful it was to see him.
B and I became friends at a point in time in my life when I was in the middle of a huge paradigm shift. I was entirely fluid in my being and trying to figure out who and how to be. He was an extraordinary friend through that period and beyond. He has been one of my best friends for about 15 years. And probably will be for the rest of my life. I know that I can go to him and always expect nothing but honesty and kindness (even when those two don’t necessarily go hand in hand) and I know that I will always feel completely, utterly safe with him.
And he got to see me as a mom today, because the kids came with me to lunch. He was a bit taken aback to watch me walk into the restaurant with The Girl on my hip and hand in hand with The Boy. And I got to watch him help The Boy figure out a word puzzle on the kid’s menu.
It’s a lovely thing, to see each of us a bit more settled into our own skin.
7/30/09 - Freaking Out
***Sorry this is late - I'm blaming this one on Mojitos.***
So I got the interview schedule with my alma mater next week. I scoffed at first at the idea of a “schedule” for my interview as I thought I’d only be meeting with a handful of people. So I thought maybe a couple of hours at most, if they included a campus tour. I was really, really wrong. They have me scheduled back to back, starting at 8:30am straight through until 3pm. I am fairly sure I’m meeting with just about every single person in the non-faculty administration, including the president of the college. Yep. You guessed it. I’m totally freaking out.
Here’s why I’m freaking out. Because I have not been in this big of an interview for a job I wanted this badly in probably my whole life. Because I have been trying to break into higher education professionally for a while now and can’t quite seem to make the jump from nonprofit to higher ed. Because of this, the only experience I have in higher ed is when I was a student. And because I have been not working long enough that my confidence in my ability to tackle anything they could throw at me and prevail has dwindled. I’ve only had one client in the last year, almost completely by choice, so I feel like I’m rusty. And I desperately do not want them to see that.
So. I am giving myself through the weekend to just go ahead and freak out. Get it out of my system. And then I am going to throw myself into research and prep next week in the hopes that it will get me focused and centered enough to remember that I can do anything I set my mind to. Everyone else is already pretty sure I have this job in the bag; I just need to believe it myself. And if it’s meant to be, it will be.
I am really excited at the core of all of this freaking out. And that is definitely a good sign. That my well of confidence really is full, there under the surface. I just have to slough off this silly skin of fear and embrace it.
So I got the interview schedule with my alma mater next week. I scoffed at first at the idea of a “schedule” for my interview as I thought I’d only be meeting with a handful of people. So I thought maybe a couple of hours at most, if they included a campus tour. I was really, really wrong. They have me scheduled back to back, starting at 8:30am straight through until 3pm. I am fairly sure I’m meeting with just about every single person in the non-faculty administration, including the president of the college. Yep. You guessed it. I’m totally freaking out.
Here’s why I’m freaking out. Because I have not been in this big of an interview for a job I wanted this badly in probably my whole life. Because I have been trying to break into higher education professionally for a while now and can’t quite seem to make the jump from nonprofit to higher ed. Because of this, the only experience I have in higher ed is when I was a student. And because I have been not working long enough that my confidence in my ability to tackle anything they could throw at me and prevail has dwindled. I’ve only had one client in the last year, almost completely by choice, so I feel like I’m rusty. And I desperately do not want them to see that.
So. I am giving myself through the weekend to just go ahead and freak out. Get it out of my system. And then I am going to throw myself into research and prep next week in the hopes that it will get me focused and centered enough to remember that I can do anything I set my mind to. Everyone else is already pretty sure I have this job in the bag; I just need to believe it myself. And if it’s meant to be, it will be.
I am really excited at the core of all of this freaking out. And that is definitely a good sign. That my well of confidence really is full, there under the surface. I just have to slough off this silly skin of fear and embrace it.
7/29/09
Teaching Love and Jack
Today was a jam packed day. I really thought I would just be driving to meet my mom to pick up the kids, have a picnic and drive home. But then I remembered that tonight was the meet and greet with The Boy’s teacher at his new school. So we barreled home through the rain and hail to have enough time to unload the car of luggage and toys and reload it with all of his school supplies and off we went. We met his teacher and she is wonderful. I talked to her about how he is a kinesthetic learner through and through and because of that, he has a hard time with words and reading. She took it all in stride and started brainstorming with me on the spot different ways to help him learn and different ways to adapt her teaching style to his learning style. I loved her immediately.
And my mom got adopted today. We met at a park to let the kids play while we had a picnic. I got there before they did and noticed a stray dog wandering around. I watched him for a while and then lost track of him when the kids arrived. As we were saying our goodbyes, this dog came and laid down right by my mom’s car. He very slyly crept up onto the floor board of the driver’s side of the car. Then sneakily made his way behind her and crawled up on the back seat and went to sleep. As if he had always been there. As if he had been waiting his entire life for her to pull into the parking lot and pick him up. He was utterly and completely at home. My mom shrugged, patted his head, smiled in defeat and drove away. She has named him Jack. I’m going to call him Jumping Jack Flash because he popped their front gate like a friggin’ gazelle when she took him home. She’s in love with him already.
And I have more news to share about my impending interview. I am totally freaking out. Which is fine. I will get over it soon. And I’ll be back tomorrow.
And my mom got adopted today. We met at a park to let the kids play while we had a picnic. I got there before they did and noticed a stray dog wandering around. I watched him for a while and then lost track of him when the kids arrived. As we were saying our goodbyes, this dog came and laid down right by my mom’s car. He very slyly crept up onto the floor board of the driver’s side of the car. Then sneakily made his way behind her and crawled up on the back seat and went to sleep. As if he had always been there. As if he had been waiting his entire life for her to pull into the parking lot and pick him up. He was utterly and completely at home. My mom shrugged, patted his head, smiled in defeat and drove away. She has named him Jack. I’m going to call him Jumping Jack Flash because he popped their front gate like a friggin’ gazelle when she took him home. She’s in love with him already.
And I have more news to share about my impending interview. I am totally freaking out. Which is fine. I will get over it soon. And I’ll be back tomorrow.
7/28/09
Wily Universe Renewal
The call came today. The one that I’ve been hoping for, but didn’t really expect to receive. My alma mater called today. Even as the HR Director was saying hello and asking how I was, I fully expected her to say that they had chosen who to interview and I wasn’t one of them. And then she said the exact opposite of that and said they wanted to interview me next week. Next week?!? Normally that would be more than enough time to figure out childcare and preparations. But this interview is in Nebraska. And The Boy starts school on Monday. A school whose handbook clearly states that parents should not take their children out of class unless absolutely necessary.
So as I could feel the adrenaline starting to pulse with the anticipation of having this interview in a week. I could also feel the panic start to set in as I was quickly trying to figure out how to make all of this happen. I asked if I could call her back so I could make arrangements, called my husband to see if he could get the time off, which he couldn’t. Called my mom not really expecting her to be able to help much except to brainstorm with me. Sent emails to all of my friends who still live in the area around my college to see if they had any ideas. And waited for inspiration to strike, or maybe the fingers of the universe to reach down and work their wily ways and just make it all work out.
And you know what? Those fingers got right to work. My mom called me back to ask what day the interview was and then to tell me that she’d be here the day before I had to leave to drive back there and would stay through the weekend to help with the kids. Just like that, it all worked out. It’s moments like that that renew my faith. Moments like that and the fact that my dear friend R had her sweet baby boy today, on her birthday.
Moments like that, healthy babies and the fact that my mom is a rock star.
So as I could feel the adrenaline starting to pulse with the anticipation of having this interview in a week. I could also feel the panic start to set in as I was quickly trying to figure out how to make all of this happen. I asked if I could call her back so I could make arrangements, called my husband to see if he could get the time off, which he couldn’t. Called my mom not really expecting her to be able to help much except to brainstorm with me. Sent emails to all of my friends who still live in the area around my college to see if they had any ideas. And waited for inspiration to strike, or maybe the fingers of the universe to reach down and work their wily ways and just make it all work out.
And you know what? Those fingers got right to work. My mom called me back to ask what day the interview was and then to tell me that she’d be here the day before I had to leave to drive back there and would stay through the weekend to help with the kids. Just like that, it all worked out. It’s moments like that that renew my faith. Moments like that and the fact that my dear friend R had her sweet baby boy today, on her birthday.
Moments like that, healthy babies and the fact that my mom is a rock star.
7/27/09
Deadwood
So here’s the downside to getting so invested in silly TV shows. You spend entire afternoons allowing yourself to get completely sucked into some show concocted by someone much funnier/wittier/smarter and a much better writer than I could ever be. I spend all of this time getting to know these characters within the context of the world that has been created. Speculating on who is the bad guy and who is the good guy. And then out of the blue, some mealy-mouthed punk walks up behind Wild Bill Hickok in Deadwood and shoots him right in the head. One of the best gunslingers in the history of the Wild West gets gunned down by an idiot out of the blue for no good reason. And I sit on the couch waiting for it to be some sort of cowboy stunt to get this prick out of Wild Bill’s way as the realization dawns that there is so no such thing in this time period. And then I’m yelling at the TV on the verge of tears because one of my most favorite characters is now gone forever. And it’s only the fourth flipping episode!
I’m a reasonably intelligent woman who has a well documented my love of brain candy TV, but seriously. I was screaming at the TV begging it to not be true. Hoping that Montana (Bullock) finds this dipshit and guns him down in the street. And yes, I’m aware that if you don’t watch Deadwood, that you have no idea what I’m ranting on about this time. But bear with me. Because tomorrow is my last day of staycation and then I promise that I will plug the holes in my Swiss cheese brain with things like getting The Boy ready to start first grade and getting back to the pro bono projects I started and grocery shopping and coming up with a plan to save us from financial ruin.
But for today and tomorrow, the only soapbox I want, the only item on my to-do list, is to be simultaneously enraged and saddened by the sudden death of this character on this show that I’ve only just discovered and now adore.
I’m a reasonably intelligent woman who has a well documented my love of brain candy TV, but seriously. I was screaming at the TV begging it to not be true. Hoping that Montana (Bullock) finds this dipshit and guns him down in the street. And yes, I’m aware that if you don’t watch Deadwood, that you have no idea what I’m ranting on about this time. But bear with me. Because tomorrow is my last day of staycation and then I promise that I will plug the holes in my Swiss cheese brain with things like getting The Boy ready to start first grade and getting back to the pro bono projects I started and grocery shopping and coming up with a plan to save us from financial ruin.
But for today and tomorrow, the only soapbox I want, the only item on my to-do list, is to be simultaneously enraged and saddened by the sudden death of this character on this show that I’ve only just discovered and now adore.
7/26/09
TV Daydreams
We have discovered a whole new world of TV addiction I’m afraid to say. We have given in (during this staycation I’ve elicited the complicity of my husband to this new obsession) to watching TV shows on DVD. It’s something I didn’t really ever understand the appeal of until I got the entire series of Firefly on DVD for Christmas. There is something extremely appealing about being able to put on a show that you know will only last about 50 minutes as background noise or to pass the time and know for certain that there will be zero damn commercials. It’s a wonderful invention.
So we’ve used the last week to start watching shows that always intrigued me but, because we never got HBO or Showtime, passed me by (much to the dismay of my inner pop culture freak). Shows like Weeds, Dexter, The Wire and Deadwood. And now we are completely and irrevocably sucked in to these shows. I’m glad that two of them are finished in a way because I know that this new found obsession is finite in two of four cases. Which is a very good thing since absolutely none of them are in any way child friendly. They are crass and foul-mouthed and hilarious and crude and violent and brilliant and witty.
Finding myself laughing at a suburban mom drug dealer in WAY over her head, or a serial killer with a moral code is a bit on the unsettling side at first, I’ll give you that. But that quickly moves over for the pure joy in watching something brilliant, even when it does make you uncomfortable or gives you goose bumps. And there will always be something flat compelling about watching someone just be really, really bad. Whether that is in the Wild West or the streets of Baltimore. In these four shows alone, you can see just about the whole spectrum of human nature and failure, fear and fortuned. It’s fascinating.
Because at the end of the day, I am a suburban mom making it through the day loving my family to the best of my ability. I think it’s ok to borrow someone else’s daydreams occasionally.
So we’ve used the last week to start watching shows that always intrigued me but, because we never got HBO or Showtime, passed me by (much to the dismay of my inner pop culture freak). Shows like Weeds, Dexter, The Wire and Deadwood. And now we are completely and irrevocably sucked in to these shows. I’m glad that two of them are finished in a way because I know that this new found obsession is finite in two of four cases. Which is a very good thing since absolutely none of them are in any way child friendly. They are crass and foul-mouthed and hilarious and crude and violent and brilliant and witty.
Finding myself laughing at a suburban mom drug dealer in WAY over her head, or a serial killer with a moral code is a bit on the unsettling side at first, I’ll give you that. But that quickly moves over for the pure joy in watching something brilliant, even when it does make you uncomfortable or gives you goose bumps. And there will always be something flat compelling about watching someone just be really, really bad. Whether that is in the Wild West or the streets of Baltimore. In these four shows alone, you can see just about the whole spectrum of human nature and failure, fear and fortuned. It’s fascinating.
Because at the end of the day, I am a suburban mom making it through the day loving my family to the best of my ability. I think it’s ok to borrow someone else’s daydreams occasionally.
7/25/09 - Teachers to Remember
***Sorry this is so late...my brain is swiss cheese and I'm on staycation.***
When I think back over the number of teachers I have had over the past years, there are several that stand out. Mrs. C in elementary school for not letting me quit and resign myself to being stupid when it came to math. Mr. T and Mrs. G in high school for encouraging my creativity and inherent rebel nature without compromising my intelligence. Drs. W, R and McP in college who all played a heavy hand in taking me from high school drop out to passionate over achiever with a mission. I will remember these teachers for the rest of my life.
And there is one more that I will also always remember. My first grade teacher, Mrs. H. When I stepped into her classroom I was bright, excited, creative and vibrant with my want and willingness to learn. I was pretty much a typical precocious six year old girl who taught herself how to read at the age of 4 because she got tired of not being able to read what was going on around her and who started writing stories not long after. And I was ambidextrous. I loved that I could do everything with both hands. Especially write. More from a place of convenience than anything else. It was just really nice to be able to write with whatever hand happened to find the pencil first.
Mrs. H answered that little piece of convenience by rapping my knuckles with a ruler every time I wrote with my left hand and a stern clucking. Whenever I worked ahead on any given assignment, she answered my want to learn more by humiliating me in front of my classmates. When I would beg to go to the nurse on the verge of tears with a migraine she would refer to me as a crybaby in front of the whole class. She was, in essence, a bitch in the first order armed with a classroom from which to rule.
The Boy starts first grade in a week. And I am equally excited and terrified for him. I am keeping my fingers crossed for him to find the teacher who encourages his journey instead of de-railing it.
When I think back over the number of teachers I have had over the past years, there are several that stand out. Mrs. C in elementary school for not letting me quit and resign myself to being stupid when it came to math. Mr. T and Mrs. G in high school for encouraging my creativity and inherent rebel nature without compromising my intelligence. Drs. W, R and McP in college who all played a heavy hand in taking me from high school drop out to passionate over achiever with a mission. I will remember these teachers for the rest of my life.
And there is one more that I will also always remember. My first grade teacher, Mrs. H. When I stepped into her classroom I was bright, excited, creative and vibrant with my want and willingness to learn. I was pretty much a typical precocious six year old girl who taught herself how to read at the age of 4 because she got tired of not being able to read what was going on around her and who started writing stories not long after. And I was ambidextrous. I loved that I could do everything with both hands. Especially write. More from a place of convenience than anything else. It was just really nice to be able to write with whatever hand happened to find the pencil first.
Mrs. H answered that little piece of convenience by rapping my knuckles with a ruler every time I wrote with my left hand and a stern clucking. Whenever I worked ahead on any given assignment, she answered my want to learn more by humiliating me in front of my classmates. When I would beg to go to the nurse on the verge of tears with a migraine she would refer to me as a crybaby in front of the whole class. She was, in essence, a bitch in the first order armed with a classroom from which to rule.
The Boy starts first grade in a week. And I am equally excited and terrified for him. I am keeping my fingers crossed for him to find the teacher who encourages his journey instead of de-railing it.
7/24/09
Lighter if Not Better
Everything’s going to get lighter, even if it doesn’t get better…
That is what I am hoping for more than anything right now. I don’t foresee it getting any better for a while yet, but if it could just get a little lighter, I think I’d have a fighting chance of getting through it all with some grace.
The last time I felt this way was right after college. I had just spent 4 years working my ass off to get a triple major done in the normal 4 year time span and was getting ready to start another 6 years towards a PhD. I was daunted and burnt out and exhausted. Now I’ve been working diligently for the past almost 6 years to raise my amazing son and 3 years raising my gorgeous daughter and through one reason or another, I’ve spent the last 6 months afraid for them. And fear takes so much energy. Energy that I couldn’t spend on work and thus we are in the financial situation we are in currently. Energy that I couldn’t spend on recharging myself and my passion. Fear for your children is an all consuming thing that takes every ounce of energy you have.
Probably a mother more enlightened than myself would have given up the fear a long time ago and came to the realization that regardless of whether they are on the playground or in the hospital, they are individual beings that each have their own karma to live and work through and even though I can stand by them to guide them, they will have to walk their own paths. The sickness and pain over the last several months are part of that path and all I can do love them through it. The fear does no one any good.
So here I am. Feeling a bit dramatic, but trying not to show it. Struggling through the daily grind while being grateful for every “normal” day. Resenting the non-change of every moment while relishing the inherent gifts. No wonder I’m burnt out. No wonder I’m so tired. It’s like living a dual life. And even though I’m a Gemini, I’m not that good.
That is what I am hoping for more than anything right now. I don’t foresee it getting any better for a while yet, but if it could just get a little lighter, I think I’d have a fighting chance of getting through it all with some grace.
The last time I felt this way was right after college. I had just spent 4 years working my ass off to get a triple major done in the normal 4 year time span and was getting ready to start another 6 years towards a PhD. I was daunted and burnt out and exhausted. Now I’ve been working diligently for the past almost 6 years to raise my amazing son and 3 years raising my gorgeous daughter and through one reason or another, I’ve spent the last 6 months afraid for them. And fear takes so much energy. Energy that I couldn’t spend on work and thus we are in the financial situation we are in currently. Energy that I couldn’t spend on recharging myself and my passion. Fear for your children is an all consuming thing that takes every ounce of energy you have.
Probably a mother more enlightened than myself would have given up the fear a long time ago and came to the realization that regardless of whether they are on the playground or in the hospital, they are individual beings that each have their own karma to live and work through and even though I can stand by them to guide them, they will have to walk their own paths. The sickness and pain over the last several months are part of that path and all I can do love them through it. The fear does no one any good.
So here I am. Feeling a bit dramatic, but trying not to show it. Struggling through the daily grind while being grateful for every “normal” day. Resenting the non-change of every moment while relishing the inherent gifts. No wonder I’m burnt out. No wonder I’m so tired. It’s like living a dual life. And even though I’m a Gemini, I’m not that good.
7/23/09
Babble, Babble, Babble
I don’t know what to write about today. My staycation is half over and I haven’t really done anything of use the entire time. I’ve been watching a lot of movies. My husband and I have been totally obsessed with the second season of Dexter and equally obsessed with the first season of Weeds. Now we are going to have to wait for Netflix to bring the next disks to us. I hate waiting. But I’m pretty sure I’ll get over it.
If you can’t tell already, this is just going to be a stream of consciousness post. Because I seriously just don’t have anything else for you today. I’ve turned my brain off while the kids are gone. I’m not really talking to anyone unless I have to. Since the kids have been gone, I’ve gone to Target and that is it. Normally this type of behavior is me hiding. Not wanting to deal with the world. But this time it is purely because I want the quiet. I want to not have to take care of anyone. I want to just hang out with zero expectations or responsibilities. I just want to be.
I have been in such constant emergency mode that I just needed some downtime. Serious, serious down time. And so that is what I’m doing. And I am being totally unapologetic about it. There is a huge to-do list that I probably should be working on. There are bills to pay. There is a garage sale to get organized so that we can get the sucker done, make some money and finally clean out our garage a bit. There is laundry and a very dirty house that are practically begging to be cleaned. There are just so many things that I have been putting off and shoving to the side that I should be doing. And I just flat refuse to do any of them. It sort of feels like I’m throwing a silent little temper tantrum. Quietly giving the finger to my sundry of responsibilities.
I don’t know. I’m totally just writing whatever comes out my fingers. Won’t you all be thrilled when I turn my brain back on?
If you can’t tell already, this is just going to be a stream of consciousness post. Because I seriously just don’t have anything else for you today. I’ve turned my brain off while the kids are gone. I’m not really talking to anyone unless I have to. Since the kids have been gone, I’ve gone to Target and that is it. Normally this type of behavior is me hiding. Not wanting to deal with the world. But this time it is purely because I want the quiet. I want to not have to take care of anyone. I want to just hang out with zero expectations or responsibilities. I just want to be.
I have been in such constant emergency mode that I just needed some downtime. Serious, serious down time. And so that is what I’m doing. And I am being totally unapologetic about it. There is a huge to-do list that I probably should be working on. There are bills to pay. There is a garage sale to get organized so that we can get the sucker done, make some money and finally clean out our garage a bit. There is laundry and a very dirty house that are practically begging to be cleaned. There are just so many things that I have been putting off and shoving to the side that I should be doing. And I just flat refuse to do any of them. It sort of feels like I’m throwing a silent little temper tantrum. Quietly giving the finger to my sundry of responsibilities.
I don’t know. I’m totally just writing whatever comes out my fingers. Won’t you all be thrilled when I turn my brain back on?
7/22/09
Quote-able
I started my day by asking for people to send me quotes about life on my Facebook page and here are some of what I got:
“You never get away, you just get somewhere else.” - Unknown
“No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an unchartered land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit." - Helen Keller
“I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than to be crowded on a velvet cushion.” – Thoreau
“I'd rather spend my time looking at the sky than listening to Whitney Houston." - Robert Smith
"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they're supposed to help you discover who you are.” - Unknown
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” - Maya Angelou
“We can't all be saints.” - John Dillinger
“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” – Anais Nin
“…real life sucks losers dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn how to fly.”– Winona Ryder in Heathers
That’s a pretty good representation of how I feel about life in general actually now that I link them all together like that. Life takes courage, hope, a tremendous sense of humor, a willingness to daydream, a bit of tragedy and cynicism, topped off by a sweet dollop of pop culture wit. Yep. That just about sums up my world view.
And I think one thing I’m discovering on my staycation is that I’ve lost touch with some of these things a bit. The daily grind has just about ground my sense of humor to dust while the constant sense of emergency has brought my hope and daydreams to their knees. I’ve pretty much just been in survival mode. It’s hard to keep perspective in the midst of that.
But through the quiet and calm these past couple of days I actually caught myself thinking that one way or the other, everything will work out. It always does, why should now be any exception? I always am exactly where I should be.
“You never get away, you just get somewhere else.” - Unknown
“No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an unchartered land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit." - Helen Keller
“I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than to be crowded on a velvet cushion.” – Thoreau
“I'd rather spend my time looking at the sky than listening to Whitney Houston." - Robert Smith
"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they're supposed to help you discover who you are.” - Unknown
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” - Maya Angelou
“We can't all be saints.” - John Dillinger
“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” – Anais Nin
“…real life sucks losers dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn how to fly.”– Winona Ryder in Heathers
That’s a pretty good representation of how I feel about life in general actually now that I link them all together like that. Life takes courage, hope, a tremendous sense of humor, a willingness to daydream, a bit of tragedy and cynicism, topped off by a sweet dollop of pop culture wit. Yep. That just about sums up my world view.
And I think one thing I’m discovering on my staycation is that I’ve lost touch with some of these things a bit. The daily grind has just about ground my sense of humor to dust while the constant sense of emergency has brought my hope and daydreams to their knees. I’ve pretty much just been in survival mode. It’s hard to keep perspective in the midst of that.
But through the quiet and calm these past couple of days I actually caught myself thinking that one way or the other, everything will work out. It always does, why should now be any exception? I always am exactly where I should be.
7/21/09
Staycation
The Boy made it through the night with no complications which is a huge relief as the docs said that the first 24 hours post-concussion were the sketchiest. So with the promise that he wouldn’t be doing anything to endanger his general brain health, we got him and The Girl packed for the annual end of summer sojourn to my parents’ house for the week.
Off to Alamosa I went yesterday to meet my mom for the kid hand-off. And even though I really, really need the week of peace and quiet and aloneness, it was hard for me to let them go. Three of the most important people in my life all in the same car outside of my line of sight, driving away from me. That was hard. But they got home ok of course and are letting the fun commence by going swimming today in an effort to combat the relentless heat.
And my children will have a grand time this week with their Nana and Papa just like they always do and I will have a nice quiet week. Not quite a vacation, but it will have to do for now. And my hopes are high that perhaps the stars will align and I’ll get a call for an interview or two this week. Something that will allow me to move forward even just the tiniest of steps.
I will watch sappy movies and let any excess tears that may exist out of my system. I’ll read. I will sit in my jammies all day if I want. I’ll clean and catch up with some friends. Hopefully I will get some good news that J had the baby and both new mama and babe are happy and healthy. I’ll construct my days however they happen to fit together and let the chips fall where they may.
By the end of the week hopefully I will have replaced the crabbiness with some renewed joy. Replaced the constant state of alert with some peace. Replaced the worn down fatigue with rejuvenation. Or at the very least, replaced the thick coating of dust on my entertainment center with a newly clean and shiny surface.
Off to Alamosa I went yesterday to meet my mom for the kid hand-off. And even though I really, really need the week of peace and quiet and aloneness, it was hard for me to let them go. Three of the most important people in my life all in the same car outside of my line of sight, driving away from me. That was hard. But they got home ok of course and are letting the fun commence by going swimming today in an effort to combat the relentless heat.
And my children will have a grand time this week with their Nana and Papa just like they always do and I will have a nice quiet week. Not quite a vacation, but it will have to do for now. And my hopes are high that perhaps the stars will align and I’ll get a call for an interview or two this week. Something that will allow me to move forward even just the tiniest of steps.
I will watch sappy movies and let any excess tears that may exist out of my system. I’ll read. I will sit in my jammies all day if I want. I’ll clean and catch up with some friends. Hopefully I will get some good news that J had the baby and both new mama and babe are happy and healthy. I’ll construct my days however they happen to fit together and let the chips fall where they may.
By the end of the week hopefully I will have replaced the crabbiness with some renewed joy. Replaced the constant state of alert with some peace. Replaced the worn down fatigue with rejuvenation. Or at the very least, replaced the thick coating of dust on my entertainment center with a newly clean and shiny surface.
7/20/09 - 5 year old Brain Scramble
***Sorry this is late, once again. Life keeps making me fall behind.***
I think The Boy assumed that I was getting bored what with my mom going home and no longer in my charge. What with The Girl being healthy. What with his infection under control and my strep being banished back to the rock under which it originated.
So in his boundless kindness, he decided to spice things up a bit by jumping off of a 6 foot slide and landing on his head yesterday. A very sweet co-worker of my husband’s offered to watch the kids for us so we could have a lunch and movie date, so I didn’t actually see it happen. When we picked him up he had a pretty big lump on his head, but he was asleep before I was out of the parking lot. When he awoke however, he was screaming and vomiting. So I called the doctor immediately and told them what was going on and only started to get worried when they started talking about calling 911. I told them that after our last experience that it would take me less time to get him to the ER myself than it would by calling an ambulance. So into the car we went. The Boy was completely white and out of it. And I was walking that recently well worn line between focus and hysteria.
We got to the hospital where The Boy promptly threw up in the waiting room at which point they hustled back to a room where we waited for someone to take him to get a CT scan. And then we waited and waited and waited for the results.
The good thing was that the more time went by the more he returned to himself; the more back into focus his little being came. The CT results came back normal, which was a huge relief. The diagnosis? A concussion. The treatment? Rest and don’t let him scramble his brain again for at least 6 months.
And me? I find myself with nothing else to do but laugh. I mean seriously, at this point what the hell else am I going to do? So I am laughing and breathing and wishing desperately for a vacation.
I think The Boy assumed that I was getting bored what with my mom going home and no longer in my charge. What with The Girl being healthy. What with his infection under control and my strep being banished back to the rock under which it originated.
So in his boundless kindness, he decided to spice things up a bit by jumping off of a 6 foot slide and landing on his head yesterday. A very sweet co-worker of my husband’s offered to watch the kids for us so we could have a lunch and movie date, so I didn’t actually see it happen. When we picked him up he had a pretty big lump on his head, but he was asleep before I was out of the parking lot. When he awoke however, he was screaming and vomiting. So I called the doctor immediately and told them what was going on and only started to get worried when they started talking about calling 911. I told them that after our last experience that it would take me less time to get him to the ER myself than it would by calling an ambulance. So into the car we went. The Boy was completely white and out of it. And I was walking that recently well worn line between focus and hysteria.
We got to the hospital where The Boy promptly threw up in the waiting room at which point they hustled back to a room where we waited for someone to take him to get a CT scan. And then we waited and waited and waited for the results.
The good thing was that the more time went by the more he returned to himself; the more back into focus his little being came. The CT results came back normal, which was a huge relief. The diagnosis? A concussion. The treatment? Rest and don’t let him scramble his brain again for at least 6 months.
And me? I find myself with nothing else to do but laugh. I mean seriously, at this point what the hell else am I going to do? So I am laughing and breathing and wishing desperately for a vacation.
7/19/09
The Half Blood Prince
I finally got to see Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince today. I was so excited to see it. The past several movies have been so good that I had every reason to believe that this one would be as well.
After having re-read the book just a couple of weeks ago, I had some questions about how they were going to fit it all in. This book more than all the others, except maybe the last one, has the most history and the pivotal pieces of information. There is a tremendous amount going on in this book. And I knew that it wouldn’t all make the cut, but I was worried about some of the choices they might or might not make.
And as it turns o
After having re-read the book just a couple of weeks ago, I had some questions about how they were going to fit it all in. This book more than all the others, except maybe the last one, has the most history and the pivotal pieces of information. There is a tremendous amount going on in this book. And I knew that it wouldn’t all make the cut, but I was worried about some of the choices they might or might not make.
And as it turns o