In March, I'm going to shave my head to benefit the St. Baldrick's Foundation. I am excited! It's so satisfying to know that I am contributing to cancer research. Plus, I really enjoyed being bald. It was liberating in so many ways. I can't wait!
If you want to donate on my head, go here: St. Baldrick's Foundation. Search for me under Find a Participant and then choose how you'd like to donate. My goal this time is $1500.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Two Fitting Quotations
"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them." George Bernard Shaw
"Again and again, the impossible problem is solved when we see that the problem is only a tough decision waiting to be made." Robert H. Schuller
I came across the first quote months and months ago. I love it. It explains my philosophy on life thoroughly, yet succinctly. I just found the second one this morning on a note Miriam brought home from her jump rope coach. At any other time it probably wouldn't have meant much to me but since I've been struggling with my career plans recently, it hit home.
Time and again the problems in my life have been solved by accepting that sometimes life sucks and sometimes I have no choice but to rearrange my perspective, make the difficult decisions and blaze a new trail. Getting divorced, moving half way across the country, changing jobs, enrolling in school, losing 25 pounds, parenting -- all of it is challenging. Curling up into myself and sobbing about it only works for so long. At some point I have to blow my nose and wipe my eyes, take a deep breath and figure out how to fix it. There is always a solution. It might not be the one I want and it might not be easy or fun but there is always a solution. Always.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Musings on My Career
I have recently begun to face facts. Or one fact, anyway. Namely, I do not have the time to go to nursing school and I won't have the time any time soon. Any decent nursing program has a murderous clinical schedule that I cannot swing as a single parent. I have done everything I can, worked out every plan, researched all the options and it's just not workable.
Now, I'm not one to let obstacles get in the way of what I want. I don't give up easily. I'm a hard worker. I'm also a realist. All the encouraging, feel good, don't give up-ness in the world cannot change the facts. I don't know a single person in my situation -- single parent with the other parent 400 miles away -- who has done this. Every BSN candidate I know has either 1) a spouse who works full-time and supports the family while caring for children; or 2) moved in with parents who can fill the childcare and financial support roles as needed; or 3) a vastly superior financial situation that allows for not working any kind of job. None of these three are possible for me.
I was lamenting all of this to Paul and he said, "What else do you want to do?" And I immediately said, "There's nothing else. This is what I want."
But then I thought some more and I came up with these requirements for my career, such as it is or might be:
I would love to work in a research hospital some where. If I could study disease processes or microscopic pathogens and figure out what makes them tick, I'd be happy. If I could make them stop ticking, I'd be ecstatic. If I could save lives by stopping the ticking of fatal pathogens, I'd die happier than anyone ever has.
I have a lot to consider. I need to do some research on where I might fit. I need to see what my realistic options are. But I'm excited. There is a whole world out there -- that doesn't require grueling clinical hours -- that I haven't considered before now. And I can't wait to see what it might hold.
Now, I'm not one to let obstacles get in the way of what I want. I don't give up easily. I'm a hard worker. I'm also a realist. All the encouraging, feel good, don't give up-ness in the world cannot change the facts. I don't know a single person in my situation -- single parent with the other parent 400 miles away -- who has done this. Every BSN candidate I know has either 1) a spouse who works full-time and supports the family while caring for children; or 2) moved in with parents who can fill the childcare and financial support roles as needed; or 3) a vastly superior financial situation that allows for not working any kind of job. None of these three are possible for me.
I was lamenting all of this to Paul and he said, "What else do you want to do?" And I immediately said, "There's nothing else. This is what I want."
But then I thought some more and I came up with these requirements for my career, such as it is or might be:
- I have to be able to meet thousands, if not tens of thousands, of different people. As much as individual people might drive me absolutely bonkers, I love humanity in general. I need to be immersed in all the stuff that makes up people.
- I have to be able to help those people. I need to feel that I can have a personal impact on someone's life. It may not be a lot to humanity as a whole, but I need to connect with at least a few people on a personal level.
- I have to be learning stuff. All the time. I don't want a single day to go by where I don't learn something, be it fascinating or mundane.
I would love to work in a research hospital some where. If I could study disease processes or microscopic pathogens and figure out what makes them tick, I'd be happy. If I could make them stop ticking, I'd be ecstatic. If I could save lives by stopping the ticking of fatal pathogens, I'd die happier than anyone ever has.
I have a lot to consider. I need to do some research on where I might fit. I need to see what my realistic options are. But I'm excited. There is a whole world out there -- that doesn't require grueling clinical hours -- that I haven't considered before now. And I can't wait to see what it might hold.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Coffee is a Beautiful Thing
This is one of the things Paul gave to me for Christmas. It's an espresso maker. I can make lattes all by myself! There is a milk steamer/frother thingy too. Yay for delicious coffee! Yay for delicious coffee without paying Starbucks $4.00!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Dentist Time!
I took the kids to the dentist today. All three of them. It was just for cleaning and x-rays but I was still mighty anxious. We've had less than stellar dental appointments since they were tiny kids. I was mucho afraid of what we might need to repair, of the bills, of more anxiety. Ugh.
But I feared for (almost) nothing. Out of three kids and some 48 teeth -- give or take a lost baby tooth -- there is only one cavity. And it's tiny. And in a baby tooth. Yay! Our religious dedication to brushing, flossing, fluoride rinses and much less candy has paid off!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Happy New Year!!
It's New Year's Eve 2011/2012! Yay!
Okay, that's enough exclamation points for one post. I really am just posting this to show you some photos from this fine evening.
Okay, that's enough exclamation points for one post. I really am just posting this to show you some photos from this fine evening.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
People Watching in Airports
People watching in airports is hampered by security regulations now. This whole business that only allows ticketed passengers at the gate means I don't get to see people say their hellos or good byes. (Yes, I am that nosey.) It's different when I just see people gliding by on the automatic sidewalk. Or sitting across from me with their carry-on luggage and whatever crap they bought in the airport.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Christmas
Alright. I need to savor this feeling right here. This feeling of being surrounded by family, of drinking great wine and of eating delicious food. There is laughter, genuine affection and a general feeling of comfort.
I can say whatever I want and everyone will either laugh hysterically or look at me with an expression of, "What the hell?" and then laugh hysterically anyway. And they're laughing with me, even as they might be laughing at me. This is exactly what I want to feel, all of the time.
But. But. But if I felt this way all of the time I wouldn't appreciate this feeling as much right now, would I? Or would I? There's this whole idea that you don't appreciate the good times without the bad times, the light without the dark, you know? I have always wished I had the opportunity to prove that wrong.
I don't know that it's possible, though. To prove that idea wrong. I've always had the bad times to interrupt the good times. Always. That's probably life. I doubt anyone has all good times, all the time. I really doubt that.
However, the week from Christmas to New Year's Eve is the perfect time to enjoy that great feeling 24/7. I'm flying to Utah to spend 4 days with Paul and his Utah family on Wednesday. That's going to be 4 days of Utah partying. And I only work one day this week. I get paid for 5 days but I'm only working 4 days. I'm having a great week.
I love this feeling, whether it lasts or not. And it probably won't. But I love it all the more because of that.
I can say whatever I want and everyone will either laugh hysterically or look at me with an expression of, "What the hell?" and then laugh hysterically anyway. And they're laughing with me, even as they might be laughing at me. This is exactly what I want to feel, all of the time.
But. But. But if I felt this way all of the time I wouldn't appreciate this feeling as much right now, would I? Or would I? There's this whole idea that you don't appreciate the good times without the bad times, the light without the dark, you know? I have always wished I had the opportunity to prove that wrong.
I don't know that it's possible, though. To prove that idea wrong. I've always had the bad times to interrupt the good times. Always. That's probably life. I doubt anyone has all good times, all the time. I really doubt that.
However, the week from Christmas to New Year's Eve is the perfect time to enjoy that great feeling 24/7. I'm flying to Utah to spend 4 days with Paul and his Utah family on Wednesday. That's going to be 4 days of Utah partying. And I only work one day this week. I get paid for 5 days but I'm only working 4 days. I'm having a great week.
I love this feeling, whether it lasts or not. And it probably won't. But I love it all the more because of that.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Kids' Take on New Parenting
Samuel is harassing Miriam about something trivial.
She's exasperated and says to me, "Mom, make him stop this!"
I calmly reply, "You're a smart kid, you can work this out."
Miriam asks, "Why don't you ever help us out any more?!"
Solomon jumps in with, "It's not that she's isn't helping us. She's just letting us figure stuff out on our own. How else can we learn?"
She's exasperated and says to me, "Mom, make him stop this!"
I calmly reply, "You're a smart kid, you can work this out."
Miriam asks, "Why don't you ever help us out any more?!"
Solomon jumps in with, "It's not that she's isn't helping us. She's just letting us figure stuff out on our own. How else can we learn?"
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Changing My Parenting
I've never been very big on self-help books or parenting books or anything like that. They're preachy and condescending and annoying. I am the authority on me and I don't need someone with a PhD to tell me how to deal with the stuff in my life. Right?
But then one morning a few weeks ago I had a near-breakdown over not having enough time for breakfast or sleep or homework or to get to school and work on time or to do chores or to relax. Not enough time for anything. I yelled at the kids again and they continued to move at their snail's pace and they continued to walk away from their backpacks and jackets instead of picking them up and putting them on.
I have had this terrible thought over the last few weeks that I haven't been teaching my children responsibility. Rather, I've been teaching them to respond to my yelling and frustration. I'm talking at them until I'm blue in the face and my blood pressure is 162/98 and they're still forgetting that they need to take a snack to school or that they need to wear gloves when it's 19F outside. I'm e-mailing their teachers weekly about homework and missed tests and issues with classmates. I'm not doing them any favors like this.
So right then and there, leaning on the kitchen counter and breathing deeply, I bought "Parenting with Love and Logic" with the Amazon app on my phone. It was one of those moments when I've just had enough. Or too much. I'd had too much and I couldn't take it any more.
When the book arrived I read half of it that same evening. It's so simple, it's brilliant. The premise is that kids are adults in training and if you don't treat them like that, they'll eventually become adults -- 'cause that's biology -- that act like kids -- 'cause that is what you brought them up to be. It's much easier to let kids mess up now than it is to let them loose in the world where messing up means you lose a job or a house or worse.
So I've started stepping back. I've stopped e-mailing the teachers, I've stopped pushing the homework, I've stopped the reminders about snacks, jackets and bed time. That's done.
Instead of harping on weather appropriate clothing, I've told the kids what the weather is supposed to be like and let them dress however they think they'll be most comfortable. If they don't wear snow boots and it snows and they have to walk home in it, they'll likely remember to take their boots next time there is snow in the weather report.
Instead of stressing out over a pre-set bedtime and getting all bent out of shape when it doesn't happen, I've laid out 2 requirements: 1) teeth must be brushed and 2) I don't see or hear any children in this house after 8:30, unless there is an emergency. If they're exhausted at wake up time, they'll probably decide that getting a little more sleep is wise.
Instead of mediating the spats and the bickering I calmly suggest that they go some where else, together or alone, and deal with it however they think is best. They're more likely to learn that hearing each other out, sticking up for themselves, making sincere apologies and having some patience work out problems rather well most of the time.
Instead of nagging the kids about leaving their things lying around, I've instituted the nightly sweep. At 8:00 PM anything that is lying around in the common areas of the house is confiscated and place in the Confiscation Box. On Sundays the sweep occurs at 5:00 PM and includes bedrooms. Things that have been confiscated can be earned back by doing a chore.
Some amazing things have happened since all the Insteads were instituted. The most amazing thing is that the house runs much more smoothly and there is a much lower level of stress for all of us. I'm not so uptight because I've stopped making the kids' problems into my problems. They're less stressed because I'm not hassling them all the time.
It's been slow going, but the kids are definitely stepping up and taking responsibility for a lot more things in their daily lives. The mistakes they have made, while not catastrophic -- let's face it, they're kids -- have been true learning opportunities. They take ownership of them and they work out some way to fix it, the best they can. They're more likely to say to me that they messed up because it's no longer my "job" to preach to them about how they should have done things differently. I listen to them and I ask them how they're going to fix things. That's it.
This is the simplest and best change I've ever made to our home life. I love it.
But then one morning a few weeks ago I had a near-breakdown over not having enough time for breakfast or sleep or homework or to get to school and work on time or to do chores or to relax. Not enough time for anything. I yelled at the kids again and they continued to move at their snail's pace and they continued to walk away from their backpacks and jackets instead of picking them up and putting them on.
I have had this terrible thought over the last few weeks that I haven't been teaching my children responsibility. Rather, I've been teaching them to respond to my yelling and frustration. I'm talking at them until I'm blue in the face and my blood pressure is 162/98 and they're still forgetting that they need to take a snack to school or that they need to wear gloves when it's 19F outside. I'm e-mailing their teachers weekly about homework and missed tests and issues with classmates. I'm not doing them any favors like this.
So right then and there, leaning on the kitchen counter and breathing deeply, I bought "Parenting with Love and Logic" with the Amazon app on my phone. It was one of those moments when I've just had enough. Or too much. I'd had too much and I couldn't take it any more.
When the book arrived I read half of it that same evening. It's so simple, it's brilliant. The premise is that kids are adults in training and if you don't treat them like that, they'll eventually become adults -- 'cause that's biology -- that act like kids -- 'cause that is what you brought them up to be. It's much easier to let kids mess up now than it is to let them loose in the world where messing up means you lose a job or a house or worse.
So I've started stepping back. I've stopped e-mailing the teachers, I've stopped pushing the homework, I've stopped the reminders about snacks, jackets and bed time. That's done.
Instead of harping on weather appropriate clothing, I've told the kids what the weather is supposed to be like and let them dress however they think they'll be most comfortable. If they don't wear snow boots and it snows and they have to walk home in it, they'll likely remember to take their boots next time there is snow in the weather report.
Instead of stressing out over a pre-set bedtime and getting all bent out of shape when it doesn't happen, I've laid out 2 requirements: 1) teeth must be brushed and 2) I don't see or hear any children in this house after 8:30, unless there is an emergency. If they're exhausted at wake up time, they'll probably decide that getting a little more sleep is wise.
Instead of mediating the spats and the bickering I calmly suggest that they go some where else, together or alone, and deal with it however they think is best. They're more likely to learn that hearing each other out, sticking up for themselves, making sincere apologies and having some patience work out problems rather well most of the time.
Instead of nagging the kids about leaving their things lying around, I've instituted the nightly sweep. At 8:00 PM anything that is lying around in the common areas of the house is confiscated and place in the Confiscation Box. On Sundays the sweep occurs at 5:00 PM and includes bedrooms. Things that have been confiscated can be earned back by doing a chore.
Some amazing things have happened since all the Insteads were instituted. The most amazing thing is that the house runs much more smoothly and there is a much lower level of stress for all of us. I'm not so uptight because I've stopped making the kids' problems into my problems. They're less stressed because I'm not hassling them all the time.
It's been slow going, but the kids are definitely stepping up and taking responsibility for a lot more things in their daily lives. The mistakes they have made, while not catastrophic -- let's face it, they're kids -- have been true learning opportunities. They take ownership of them and they work out some way to fix it, the best they can. They're more likely to say to me that they messed up because it's no longer my "job" to preach to them about how they should have done things differently. I listen to them and I ask them how they're going to fix things. That's it.
This is the simplest and best change I've ever made to our home life. I love it.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Expectations of Perfection
After the beginning bands played we heard the 7th and 8th grade bands. I have to admit I was underwhelmed. I thought, "I was once in junior high band. I was once a musician with this level of experience. And I don't think we sounded so ... unpolished?" And then I reined myself in and thought what any reasonable adult should think when looking back onto experiences in their youth -- which is, "My frame of reference is skewed. Of course we sounded unpolished. We were 13."
On Friday night Jennifer, Caleb, Lance and I got to talking about what we remembered of our band experiences. They all had the same thoughts I did during the band performances. (Can I just say that it meant the world to both Solomon and me that they all came to the concert? How fantastic is this family?) Lance, being Lance, has recordings of his 9th grade concert performances and they're even on his iPhone. So we did what anyone reliving their glory days of junior high band would do and we listened to one of them. It's a piece called Havendance that my band also did in 9th grade. It was my favorite concert piece ever. It's demanding, difficult, beautiful and so extremely fun to play.
You know what? It sounded amazing, even coming from the tinny iPhone speaker. The instruments were in tune, there was one tempo. The dynamics blew me away. So my frame of reference isn't as skewed as I thought it was. We really were as good as we remembered.
Now, for a bit more reference. Lance, Jennifer, Caleb and I all went to junior high in the same school district. Caleb went to a different junior high than the other three of us but we knew his school and his band and he knew ours. We went against each other regularly at all-region competitions for concert band and marching band. We all went to the same high school. Lance was a few years behind me in school, Jennifer and Caleb were two years behind me. Jennifer and Caleb are the only two of us who played in the same band for the same years during high school. Also, when I compare the 8th grade band here to the 9th grade band of which we were a part, I'm comparing students who've all had 3 years of band experience. Middle school here is grades 6 to 8 and junior high there is grades 7 to 9.
Since we could hear such a vast difference in musicality between the 8th grade band of a few nights ago and our 9th grade bands of years ago we started talking about what the difference could be. We've come to the conclusion that since, as a group, 12- to 14-year-olds are capable of the same basic things, it lies in the director.
Our junior high band director and the directors we had in high school were smart, passionate about music, passionate about teaching kids music. They told funny and corny jokes. But when it was time to rehearse, they could turn into the meanest, toughest, ugliest guys in the world. They were perfectionists and they expected us to be perfectionists. Making a mistake due to inattention was not tolerated. We tuned ourselves against a devil of a tuner with an eternally spinning wheel. When we had trouble sticking to one tempo, the Evil Metronome of Death was hooked up to a PA system and that beat was broadcast throughout the band hall at a deafening volume until we succumbed to it and, by God, we played in tempo. It wasn't uncommon for one person to be singled out as the one who was missing the run of 16th notes in the 58th measure. That one person then played those 16th notes alone half a dozen times in front of everyone until they were right. I remember more than one temper tantrum from a director that consisted of throwing a baton, knocking over his music stand and stomping back and forth across the room.
Solomon's band director is a very sweet, personable woman. She clearly loves what she does, she loves teaching, she loves music. The kids love her back. I haven't spent any time in her rehearsals so I can't say what happens in them. But if I were a betting person, I'd bet she doesn't tune kids and their instruments against a machine. I'd bet there is no Evil Metronome of Death in her band hall. I'd bet she does not stress to her musicians the importance of watching for down beats, for cues about when the melody cuts from the flutes to the clarinets. I'd bet she does not express disappointment when things are not played the way they are supposed to be played. I can be reasonably sure of winning all of those bets because what we saw and heard on Thursday night does not reflect a director who expects, demands and gets everything of which 8th grade musicians are capable.
I believe that my band directors bordered on abusive. If a parent treated a child the way we were treated as a group, it would warrant intervention of some kind. There's no doubt about that in my mind. But you know what? My band experience is one I would not trade for anything. We had extreme pride in our performances, no matter what the venue. We were really good and we knew it. Despite the yelling, the occasional humiliation and the frustration with not always being perfect, I never questioned enrolling in band every year. I felt affection for my directors and consider them some of the most influential teachers in my entire school career. Other people with a similar experience have told me they feel the same way.
I would venture to say that if we hadn't been as good as we were, if we hadn't had so much pride in what we did as musical students, we wouldn't have loved it so much. And our excellence, our pride, was a direct result of the way we were taught. I hope that the lack of pressure and the lack of expectation to work harder than he has before does not deter Solomon from future years of band enrollment. I want him to make it to high school band where there might be a director that demands the best.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Satisfaction
Beginning a new job is nerve-wracking. After the initial search, the call for an interview and all the interviewing. there's finally an offer and an acceptance. Then the nerves jump in.
First, there is the prospect of learning so much new information. There are new processes, work flows, co-workers, a new computer system, new bosses, new everything. It's daunting.
Then there is the whole deal with getting to know new people, as people, not just as co-workers. Personalities and work ethics are intricate things and each new one presents a new opportunity to learn something one wants to emulate or not emulate. And one must decide how one's personal philosophies line up with one's co-workers' philosophies.
On top of all of that is a much bigger issue: proving oneself to the new work world. "Can I prove to them that hiring me was a good choice?" "Will they regret hiring me and wish they'd chosen another candidate?" "Do I even want to prove anything to them?"
Well. I've now been at my new job for more than three months. I'm off the 90-day probationary period where I could belet go fired for anything. (Colorado is an at-will state but I'm part of a union now so I'm protected, to an extent. I don't expect to need the union for something like that but it's comforting to know it's there.) I can safely say that I like all of my co-workers. The doctors with whom I work are fun, funny, down-to-earth people. The environment of the clinic where I work is positive and professional with an air of "we like being here, we're in this together and we're all doing our best."
Furthermore, I've received several compliments on my work from various staff members and patients. During a team meeting after just four weeks of being there one of the doctors remarked that it seemed like I was more experienced than just those four weeks. I have received two personal commendations. A patient's parent sent an e-mail to the chief of my department telling her how I made her day. People come to me and genuinely want to know my opinion. I feel like I'm valued.
And I am satisfied that I have proven myself. These people want me there and I want to be there.
They like me. They really, really like me!
(And all this is not to say that I didn't feel these things at my previous job. I'm just very happy and grateful that I have found job satisfaction again.)
First, there is the prospect of learning so much new information. There are new processes, work flows, co-workers, a new computer system, new bosses, new everything. It's daunting.
Then there is the whole deal with getting to know new people, as people, not just as co-workers. Personalities and work ethics are intricate things and each new one presents a new opportunity to learn something one wants to emulate or not emulate. And one must decide how one's personal philosophies line up with one's co-workers' philosophies.
On top of all of that is a much bigger issue: proving oneself to the new work world. "Can I prove to them that hiring me was a good choice?" "Will they regret hiring me and wish they'd chosen another candidate?" "Do I even want to prove anything to them?"
Well. I've now been at my new job for more than three months. I'm off the 90-day probationary period where I could be
Furthermore, I've received several compliments on my work from various staff members and patients. During a team meeting after just four weeks of being there one of the doctors remarked that it seemed like I was more experienced than just those four weeks. I have received two personal commendations. A patient's parent sent an e-mail to the chief of my department telling her how I made her day. People come to me and genuinely want to know my opinion. I feel like I'm valued.
And I am satisfied that I have proven myself. These people want me there and I want to be there.
They like me. They really, really like me!
(And all this is not to say that I didn't feel these things at my previous job. I'm just very happy and grateful that I have found job satisfaction again.)
Snowy Day
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| Our "porch" and front "walk." |
Notice I did not say "Snow Day." A snowy day is merely a day with lots of snow. A Snow Day, capital letters necessary, means a day with lots of snow wherein school and/or work are canceled. We had a Snow Day a month ago and it was fun. This week we are on our second snowy day in three days. I'm loving it, especially because I do not have to work either of these days.
On Thursday we awoke to a few inches of snow with more falling onto it. Snow continued to fall for several hours. It took an hour and a half to get my three offspring to their schools. That was not fun. Not fun at all. I really think they should have called an hour's delay, but whatever. After that was done I made a quick stop at the produce market for rump roast (On sale! I love sales!) and fresh veggies. The day before I had stocked up on pantry staples during my lunch break.
When I got home I made three loaves of bread -- one Italian, two of the regular sandwich loaves I make every week -- and started a lovely, aromatic, meaty Bolognese sauce. I shoveled snow, sipped coffee and watched several episodes of Parenthood from last season. It was a beautiful day. :sigh:
And today. Today, we awoke to more snow falling on the snow from 2 days ago. I have great plans of straightening up the house and putting up our tree while watching our favorite Christmas movies and listening to our holiday play list. We have Elf and A Christmas Story cued up. We'll probably search Netflix for more options this evening. I also want to take a nice photo of the kids in the snow for our holiday letter. Yes, I'm one of those people that likes to
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Disturbing Thoughts
When Solomon was a tiny infant I was plagued by ugly thoughts. I don't know if it was post-partum depression or simply the result of realizing just how helpless a newborn infant is or what. I just remember sitting on the edge of my bed and staring into his completely helpless face for hours and thinking to myself, "There are people who would harm a tiny child just like this." It was a terribly depressing and devastating thought. It kept me awake, and for a mother who's just given birth, is feeding a baby every 45 minutes and isn't sleeping much, that's saying a lot.
In the last year I've had similar thoughts when tucking my children into bed at night. For the most part, my children are not wanting for anything. They have food, shelter, clothes that fit, support, respect, affection, a mother and father and extended family that love them more than anything, more toys than they can count. They are fortunate children, whether they know it or not. They have a good life. Sure, there are things they want that they cannot have. But they are not lacking in anything they need to become successful human beings.
There are times when I tuck them into bed at night -- clean, fed, warm, safe -- that I am overcome with sadness for the children that aren't. The children that go to bed with a pitifully empty stomach or fearing for their own safety enter my mind and I am so saddened and disturbed that I cannot stand it.
Miriam has always been a fan of bedtime. As a 6-month-old baby she put herself on a sleep schedule that allowed her two naps per day, an early bedtime and a consistent wake-up time. She loves bed time. She's the only one of my three children who will willingly say to me, "Mommy, I want to go to sleep." She adheres to bedtime as if it's written in stone. She loves the routine of putting on pajamas, brushing her teeth, brushing her hair and being tucked in. When I tell her good night and kiss her cheeks, she's the happiest she's been all day. Her innocence and sweetness are heartbreaking in contrast to the children who do not get the same.
Every child deserves to go to bed with a full stomach, knowing that a good night's sleep is ahead and that security is on the other side of that night. But they don't. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
In the last year I've had similar thoughts when tucking my children into bed at night. For the most part, my children are not wanting for anything. They have food, shelter, clothes that fit, support, respect, affection, a mother and father and extended family that love them more than anything, more toys than they can count. They are fortunate children, whether they know it or not. They have a good life. Sure, there are things they want that they cannot have. But they are not lacking in anything they need to become successful human beings.
There are times when I tuck them into bed at night -- clean, fed, warm, safe -- that I am overcome with sadness for the children that aren't. The children that go to bed with a pitifully empty stomach or fearing for their own safety enter my mind and I am so saddened and disturbed that I cannot stand it.
Miriam has always been a fan of bedtime. As a 6-month-old baby she put herself on a sleep schedule that allowed her two naps per day, an early bedtime and a consistent wake-up time. She loves bed time. She's the only one of my three children who will willingly say to me, "Mommy, I want to go to sleep." She adheres to bedtime as if it's written in stone. She loves the routine of putting on pajamas, brushing her teeth, brushing her hair and being tucked in. When I tell her good night and kiss her cheeks, she's the happiest she's been all day. Her innocence and sweetness are heartbreaking in contrast to the children who do not get the same.
Every child deserves to go to bed with a full stomach, knowing that a good night's sleep is ahead and that security is on the other side of that night. But they don't. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Thanksgiving Menu
I have no time off work for Thanksgiving except the actual day of Thanksgiving. This means I am not leaving Colorado. I took the kids to meet the ex-husband today and now I am back home. And by home, I mean Paul's house. Paul's house with wine, cheese and This is Spinal Tap, which we just finished watching. But that is neither here nor there.
What is both here and there is the Thanksgiving Menu. It is as follows:
Paul is providing copious amounts of wine and a pumpkin pie. Lance is bringing canned cranberry sauce (his Thanksgiving staple) and some sort of salad, as yet to be determined. Jen will cook:
think know that my cherries were canned too liquidy. Unfortunately I am unsure how to remedy this. And now I'm out of cherries except for the ones that have been designated for cherry-infused vodka. Le sigh.
The point is that Thanksgiving will be a rockin', delicious time, as per usual.
What is both here and there is the Thanksgiving Menu. It is as follows:
- Turkey, brined in a savory brine per Paul's request
- mashed potatoes, a la butter and cream cheese and heavy cream
- cranberry sauce
- the most delectable, buttery, flaky dinner rolls that you have ever had the pleasure of melting onto your tongue (at least, I think this is the recipe I use. I for sure have it saved on my phone. But my phone is charging on the other side of the room and I do not want to get up from this chair.)
- cranberry bars, a la Starbucks
Paul is providing copious amounts of wine and a pumpkin pie. Lance is bringing canned cranberry sauce (his Thanksgiving staple) and some sort of salad, as yet to be determined. Jen will cook:
- stuffing (which is totally To. Die. For. And I'm not even a stuffing person. Unless Jen makes it.)
- green bean casserole
- gravy
- apple pie
The point is that Thanksgiving will be a rockin', delicious time, as per usual.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
True Feminism
I've been mulling over this idea for more than a year. I've wanted to write about it for almost that long but I haven't been able to find the words. A cousin posted something related to this on Facebook recently so I've been thinking about it more. I'm still not sure I have the words but I've decided just to take the plunge any way.
Feminism as a word has become distorted. People misuse it and misrepresent it. They use it as an insult or they're insulted by it.
Feminism as a movement was necessary and wonderful. It was the civil rights movement for women. It was a time when women decided they weren't going to be told what to do by men or by society just because they were women. It was a time when women said that it doesn't matter if your chromosomes are XY or XX, you should have choices and you should have a voice.
Feminism today has morphed into this ugly, distorted idea that women are better than men. I don't think that's what any Suffragists meant when they marched for their rights. I think they wanted true equality. I think they'd be horrified at the man-bashing that happens in so much of society now.
I see women today give their husbands and partners nasty looks that they'd never tolerate themselves. I hear them say things about their men and to their men that are truly horrifying. I hear condescension and patronization and disgust in their voices. It's every where -- on television, in music, in daily conversation, in sweeping generalizations.
I know that not all women enjoy all the benefits that men do. I know that in other parts of the world, the plight of women is as horrible as it's always been. I know that even in the United States not all women make what their male counterparts make in the same careers. I know that. For most of us, however, life is good and getting better. And it certainly does not justify the anger that some women harbor toward men at just being a woman.
The pendulum has swung too far in the other direction in a lot of respects. It's not right.
The flip side of this are the women who say with horror, "Oh, I'm not a feminist!" as if it were some horrible condition requiring an exorcism. And to that I say, what's so wrong with being a feminist? What's wrong with being on equal footing with men? What's wrong with embracing all the choices you have and picking something you love because you love it, not because you're supposed to? What's wrong with not depending on a man to provide and lead and make decisions?
Being a feminist does not mean giving up on marrying, having children, making a home, even staying at home to raise children while foregoing a career outside the home. Being a feminist does not mean you're automatically a power-mongering, money-grabbing bitch. Being a feminist means that you support your rights and the rights of other women to choose what to do with life. It means that you have freedom. It is not a bad thing.
Feminism as a word has become distorted. People misuse it and misrepresent it. They use it as an insult or they're insulted by it.
Feminism as a movement was necessary and wonderful. It was the civil rights movement for women. It was a time when women decided they weren't going to be told what to do by men or by society just because they were women. It was a time when women said that it doesn't matter if your chromosomes are XY or XX, you should have choices and you should have a voice.
Feminism today has morphed into this ugly, distorted idea that women are better than men. I don't think that's what any Suffragists meant when they marched for their rights. I think they wanted true equality. I think they'd be horrified at the man-bashing that happens in so much of society now.
I see women today give their husbands and partners nasty looks that they'd never tolerate themselves. I hear them say things about their men and to their men that are truly horrifying. I hear condescension and patronization and disgust in their voices. It's every where -- on television, in music, in daily conversation, in sweeping generalizations.
I know that not all women enjoy all the benefits that men do. I know that in other parts of the world, the plight of women is as horrible as it's always been. I know that even in the United States not all women make what their male counterparts make in the same careers. I know that. For most of us, however, life is good and getting better. And it certainly does not justify the anger that some women harbor toward men at just being a woman.
The pendulum has swung too far in the other direction in a lot of respects. It's not right.
The flip side of this are the women who say with horror, "Oh, I'm not a feminist!" as if it were some horrible condition requiring an exorcism. And to that I say, what's so wrong with being a feminist? What's wrong with being on equal footing with men? What's wrong with embracing all the choices you have and picking something you love because you love it, not because you're supposed to? What's wrong with not depending on a man to provide and lead and make decisions?
Being a feminist does not mean giving up on marrying, having children, making a home, even staying at home to raise children while foregoing a career outside the home. Being a feminist does not mean you're automatically a power-mongering, money-grabbing bitch. Being a feminist means that you support your rights and the rights of other women to choose what to do with life. It means that you have freedom. It is not a bad thing.
The Good, The Bad and The Really Bad (Not Necessarily in That Order)
This week started off really crappily. I was in a foul mood all day Saturday, for no good reason really. I have a sneaking suspicion it was :ahem: hormone-related. Whatever it was I just could not snap out of it. I was grumpy and feeling bad and being short-tempered with the kids. And that made me feel even worse. Ugh.
Sunday morning I forced myself to have a better attitude. I took Solomon and Miriam to Jennifer's house and left them there so I could spend some time with Samuel alone. I've been aiming to do this for quite some time but it's hard to make time for stuff like that.
Samuel wanted to go to Downtown Aquarium so we went and spent a couple of hours looking at all sorts of sea creatures. It's as pretty fantastic place. We got to see a worker feed a tank of piranha. We watched "mermaids" put on a show about cleaning up the oceans. Then we ate lunch aquarium-side in the restaurant there. We had a great time and it was a good way to start the week.
Monday and Tuesday were pretty crappy days mood-wise again. I did get to meet with Miriam's teacher on Tuesday morning and have a conference with both of them. It was nice to hear Miriam talk through her self-assessment in a grown up voice that I've only recently begun to hear from her. She's developing a confidence and a voice that I was unsure she ever would. She's such an amazing kid.
Wednesday morning Solomon and I missed his bus. As a result, I missed the conference with Samuel's teacher and drove Solomon to school instead. At lunch time things started looking up. I finally got the snow tires put on my car after a couple of weeks of wrangling with the people at the tire place. That's a whole other story. Anyway, one of the guys there gave me a great deal on certificates for the tires and I got a discount just because of the company where I work.
I re-scheduled the conference with Samuel's teacher for that evening. We talked about his struggles with focusing on work and with speech. She showed me his work samples and how well he's doing when he can actually complete the work. Fortunately in third grade they grade what's been completed so his report card looks great. I still worry about later years when everything is graded regardless of completeness. But we still have a couple of years before that. For now I'm grateful that he's smart and that he tries so hard. And I am eternally grateful that he was matched with this teacher. She is a gift. She works with Samuel so much and is so flexible and so understanding and truly appreciates the good in him.
Also on Wednesday I got a digital antenna for our TV. I had been using Paul's rabbit ears to pick up local stations since the conversion to digital TV but they weren't getting ABC. The kids and I watch Once Upon a Time on Sunday evening on ABC but we're missing more than we're seeing because the reception is so bad. Anyway, Paul helped me get my antenna and set it up.
Thursday was a good day because the kids didn't have school on Friday which meant Thursday night we didn't have to do any homework. Any night there is no homework is a fabulous night for that reason only.
Yesterday was a phenomenal day. A co-worker agreed to give up two of her holiday days so I could have them. I had put in a request for December 29 and 30 in hopes of going to Utah with Paul for New Year's Eve. I knew it would be denied because I'm the lowest on the totem pole and everyone else put in their holiday requests months ago. It was denied. But then a friend gave up her two New Year's Eve days for me and now I get to be off work! Woot! She really did not have to do that but I am so grateful that she did.
Also yesterday, I got a call from the art teacher at the elementary school. She told me that she's awarding Samuel a High Flyer Award for his work and his behavior in her class. This is the highest award the kids can get at their school. Solomon got one in third grade and Miriam got one in second grade. I had been hoping Samuel would get one. And now he is!
I was very worried that I wouldn't get to be at the award assembly for that because it's next Tuesday morning when I'm supposed to be at work. I told my boss what a big deal it is and she said it that we'd work out something for me to be there. Another co-worker agreed to trade shifts with me so that I'm the late person that day and my boss approved the use of 2 hours of flex time so I can come in late after the award assembly. Best of all, Samuel has no idea that he's getting this award yet or that I'm going to be there. I am so excited!
In addition to both of those wonderful things, I had to leave Solomon here all day while I was work and Samuel and Miriam went to day care. He's done it before but I always worry. Yesterday I laid out some plans for him like I always do -- a couple of chores to do, make up homework, food that he could eat, etc. He made me so proud. He planned out all of his homework and completed it! And he not only did the chores I asked, but he did extra! And he practiced his trombone for an hour. He's such a fantastic kid.
Last night I had Jennifer, Caleb, Lance and Paul over for games and food. We haven't done that in a long time because of new jobs and new schools and so much life craziness getting in the way. We had a great time and I was reminded of just how fortunate I am.
Sunday morning I forced myself to have a better attitude. I took Solomon and Miriam to Jennifer's house and left them there so I could spend some time with Samuel alone. I've been aiming to do this for quite some time but it's hard to make time for stuff like that.
Samuel wanted to go to Downtown Aquarium so we went and spent a couple of hours looking at all sorts of sea creatures. It's as pretty fantastic place. We got to see a worker feed a tank of piranha. We watched "mermaids" put on a show about cleaning up the oceans. Then we ate lunch aquarium-side in the restaurant there. We had a great time and it was a good way to start the week.
Monday and Tuesday were pretty crappy days mood-wise again. I did get to meet with Miriam's teacher on Tuesday morning and have a conference with both of them. It was nice to hear Miriam talk through her self-assessment in a grown up voice that I've only recently begun to hear from her. She's developing a confidence and a voice that I was unsure she ever would. She's such an amazing kid.
Wednesday morning Solomon and I missed his bus. As a result, I missed the conference with Samuel's teacher and drove Solomon to school instead. At lunch time things started looking up. I finally got the snow tires put on my car after a couple of weeks of wrangling with the people at the tire place. That's a whole other story. Anyway, one of the guys there gave me a great deal on certificates for the tires and I got a discount just because of the company where I work.
I re-scheduled the conference with Samuel's teacher for that evening. We talked about his struggles with focusing on work and with speech. She showed me his work samples and how well he's doing when he can actually complete the work. Fortunately in third grade they grade what's been completed so his report card looks great. I still worry about later years when everything is graded regardless of completeness. But we still have a couple of years before that. For now I'm grateful that he's smart and that he tries so hard. And I am eternally grateful that he was matched with this teacher. She is a gift. She works with Samuel so much and is so flexible and so understanding and truly appreciates the good in him.
Also on Wednesday I got a digital antenna for our TV. I had been using Paul's rabbit ears to pick up local stations since the conversion to digital TV but they weren't getting ABC. The kids and I watch Once Upon a Time on Sunday evening on ABC but we're missing more than we're seeing because the reception is so bad. Anyway, Paul helped me get my antenna and set it up.
Thursday was a good day because the kids didn't have school on Friday which meant Thursday night we didn't have to do any homework. Any night there is no homework is a fabulous night for that reason only.
Yesterday was a phenomenal day. A co-worker agreed to give up two of her holiday days so I could have them. I had put in a request for December 29 and 30 in hopes of going to Utah with Paul for New Year's Eve. I knew it would be denied because I'm the lowest on the totem pole and everyone else put in their holiday requests months ago. It was denied. But then a friend gave up her two New Year's Eve days for me and now I get to be off work! Woot! She really did not have to do that but I am so grateful that she did.
Also yesterday, I got a call from the art teacher at the elementary school. She told me that she's awarding Samuel a High Flyer Award for his work and his behavior in her class. This is the highest award the kids can get at their school. Solomon got one in third grade and Miriam got one in second grade. I had been hoping Samuel would get one. And now he is!
I was very worried that I wouldn't get to be at the award assembly for that because it's next Tuesday morning when I'm supposed to be at work. I told my boss what a big deal it is and she said it that we'd work out something for me to be there. Another co-worker agreed to trade shifts with me so that I'm the late person that day and my boss approved the use of 2 hours of flex time so I can come in late after the award assembly. Best of all, Samuel has no idea that he's getting this award yet or that I'm going to be there. I am so excited!
In addition to both of those wonderful things, I had to leave Solomon here all day while I was work and Samuel and Miriam went to day care. He's done it before but I always worry. Yesterday I laid out some plans for him like I always do -- a couple of chores to do, make up homework, food that he could eat, etc. He made me so proud. He planned out all of his homework and completed it! And he not only did the chores I asked, but he did extra! And he practiced his trombone for an hour. He's such a fantastic kid.
Last night I had Jennifer, Caleb, Lance and Paul over for games and food. We haven't done that in a long time because of new jobs and new schools and so much life craziness getting in the way. We had a great time and I was reminded of just how fortunate I am.
Monday, October 31, 2011
This Keeps Happening
Grrr. I keep going a month or more between postings. I don't know what my problem is, other than parenting full time and working full time. Hardy-har-har. Actually, (and seriously, I'm kinda embarrassed to say this publicly but here it is -- ) it's much more difficult to open my laptop, log in, and navigate to this page than it is to unlock my iPhone and play Words with Friends or Angry Birds or the like. It's so much easier that I do that most of the time.
I hate that I do that, too. I can feel my brain turning to mush because I have not stimulated the writing neurons that exist up there. They're being pushed to the side by the neurons that fling birds at pigs and concoct such thrilling words as "QI" or "ZA" for 8,762 points. (Not really. 8,762 points, that is. They are being shoved into the nether regions of my brain.)
In the time since I last posted anything meaningful, the kids have returned home for the school year (and gone to ABQ for fall break and returned from that, too.), I have started a new job, the gardens have been put to bed, I've taken countless pictures that I want to show you and we've had a couple of snowstorms. Jeez, I kinda stink at this whole blogging thing.
I hope to get back into it. I really do love it. Maybe this will provide the stimulus to actually sit down with the laptop and a cup of coffee on Saturday morning.
I hate that I do that, too. I can feel my brain turning to mush because I have not stimulated the writing neurons that exist up there. They're being pushed to the side by the neurons that fling birds at pigs and concoct such thrilling words as "QI" or "ZA" for 8,762 points. (Not really. 8,762 points, that is. They are being shoved into the nether regions of my brain.)
In the time since I last posted anything meaningful, the kids have returned home for the school year (and gone to ABQ for fall break and returned from that, too.), I have started a new job, the gardens have been put to bed, I've taken countless pictures that I want to show you and we've had a couple of snowstorms. Jeez, I kinda stink at this whole blogging thing.
I hope to get back into it. I really do love it. Maybe this will provide the stimulus to actually sit down with the laptop and a cup of coffee on Saturday morning.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Day 15, A Song that Describes Me
Keep drinkin' coffee
Stare me down across the table
While I look outside
So many things I'd say if only I were able
But I just keep quiet
And count the cars that pass by
You've got opinions, man
We're all entitled to 'em
But I never asked
So let me thank you for time
And try to not waste any more of mine
Get out of here fast
I hate to break it to you babe
But I'm not drowning
There's no one here to save
Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything
You sound so innocent
All full of good intent
You swear you know best
But you expect me to
Jump up on board with you
Ride off into your delusional sunset
I'm not the one who's lost
With no direction oh
But you won't ever see
You're so busy makin' maps
With my name on them in all caps
You got the talkin' down just not the listening
And who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything
All my life
I've tried
To make everybody happy while I
Just hurt
And hide
Waitin' for someone to tell me it's my turn
To decide
Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything
Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything
Let me hold your crown, babe
I'm posting the lyrics to this song because they're so powerful. This song compares and contrasts the old me with the new me. It's my personal anthem. Every time I hear it, it's a reminder never to take my own independence for granted. I've got smarts and I'm not afraid to use them. I don't deserve someone else's maps, someone's delusional sunset. I deserve to go where I want to go because I want to go there. And I will go there, dammit.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Ten Years
It's surreal. I can't seem to grasp that I lived at a time when something so horrible happened, that I saw it with my own eyes. Even though it was on television the horror was so tangible.
Solomon had the assignment to talk to me about 9/11 for one of his classes. I told him the grim facts just like I have a few times before. But then I told him how terrifying it was. How saddening to think about that much hate causing that many lost lives. I told him what I saw and how it has affected me. I told him that I still can't understand why or how. I think he's old enough now to hear more than just the bare bones story.
I watched a documentary on CBS called 9/11: Ten Years Later. It was very well done and I think it's because the two brothers who filmed it didn't even know what they were filming. They started out to tell the story of a young firefighter working his way through the ranks in FDNY and ended up getting a front row seat to the carnage that was and is 9/11. They told the story with such grace and sensitivity that I got chills several times.
I want to go to Ground Zero some day. I don't know anyone who was lost there but I feel like it's important to go anyway. It's part of life as an American now.
Solomon had the assignment to talk to me about 9/11 for one of his classes. I told him the grim facts just like I have a few times before. But then I told him how terrifying it was. How saddening to think about that much hate causing that many lost lives. I told him what I saw and how it has affected me. I told him that I still can't understand why or how. I think he's old enough now to hear more than just the bare bones story.
I watched a documentary on CBS called 9/11: Ten Years Later. It was very well done and I think it's because the two brothers who filmed it didn't even know what they were filming. They started out to tell the story of a young firefighter working his way through the ranks in FDNY and ended up getting a front row seat to the carnage that was and is 9/11. They told the story with such grace and sensitivity that I got chills several times.
I want to go to Ground Zero some day. I don't know anyone who was lost there but I feel like it's important to go anyway. It's part of life as an American now.
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