People ask me if having Hunter makes Christmas more special. It's like asking me if having air makes it easier to breath. Everything in life is more special because of Hunter. I never believed I would be so easily lifted by a little breathy laugh, so joyous with a gummy smile and so giddy about some seriously poopy pants.
Hunter is life animated to me- he's like having rose colored glasses for life. There are certainly frustrating moments and work is still work- but things are changed. Little things don't bother me as much- big things are important and sleep is a luxury I don't mind too terribly badly to give up once in a while.
Now I am waiting for a little girl to arrive in Nashville- and I'm looking forward to seeing my sister experience this craziness they call motherhood. I wonder if she'll experience it like I did or completely different. Will she be overwhelmed and insane at first and not know if she was supposed to cross the mommy line (like me) or will she fall right into it like an old hat? It didn't take me lolng to get comfortable with my new role- but it did take some time. All I know is that single moms are genuine miracles. It is impossible.
Hunter is sleeping now- and I can't help but think of Christmases in the future when he will be so excited about Christmas. I'm excited about experiencing that magic again. This year we are bad Christmas magicians. Tomorrow there will be no gifts, no stockings, nothing. I will make pancakes and we might have some breakfast in bed- but nothing. We are waiting to do Christmas with my family in Nashville on the 30th (pending my niece's arrival date). But Jason and I made a pact not to get each other gifts because we've spent so much on ourselves already this year! We didn't get Hunter anything because he doesn't need anything and he's 3.5 months old. Aren't we terrible? But in some way-our first Christmas as this family will be perfect. It'll be just us- just time spent together with no obligations or worries. We can tell Hunter about why we celebrate, we can tell each other how much we appreciate being together, we can share memories of Christmas' past and scheme about traditions we want to start for our family future.
I recited as much as I could remember from The Night Before Christmas to Hunter tonight- he smiled at me. I love him so much.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Hunter Isaac Snow
I have been terrible at updating this blog. Right now I have about 15 minutes before Hunter will be ready to eat again- so I will post a short thing- letting the world know about my new life and hopefully my new comittment to write about it.
I need to learn how to do all the fancy things like posting pictures, etc. But for now you get words.
Hunter Isaac Snow was born on September 16th at 9:22am. I really don't believe the statement I just made. Being pregnant and wrapping your head around that phenomenon is a completely tame idea compared with the profound and hard to grasp reality of a human child living in your care. I even question that his name is Hunter. It seems ridiculous that I had the power (together with Jason) to name a human. I call him Hunter and every now and then my voice has an element of hesitation- like I am asking him if I am mistaken. He is utterly and completely dependent upon me- more so than on anyone else- and yet I feel strangely dependent on him. If he was not around- my days would not be organized around his needs, his smiles, his pooping and burping abilities. I live each day in part to maintain the survival of another human being. That is daunting and inspiring at the same time.
Motherhood is something people either treat as sainthood to be aspired to or completely mundane and to be avoided. My vote is that it lies somewhere in the middle. Motherhood, at least for me in this early stage, is very primal. People talk in rosy terms and it doesn't seem to quite grasp the depth of dependence for survival that is required of mothers. People apologize for my lack of sleep and are amazed at how well I've handled it. I wonder to myself- is there really any other option? You have to get up. That neccessity makes it something that doesn't cause me to feel rosy or mundane. Like a mother bird travelling the skies for food for her little ones- she probably doesn't feel proud of herself for feeding her chicks, nor does she find her job useless and mudane. Primal. It's the best word I can use. So everything I do for Hunter at this point is a very real job- the most important job with satisfaction measured in growth and the signs of contentment from a baby. It is odd that a baby who cannot speak and barely responds can offer such positive affirmation in this job. But one of the most affirming things I have encountered is a good, solid burp from Hunter.
Don't get me wrong in the job analogy- there are rosy elements. I love it when Hunter is done eating and his face is covered with the remnants of the last few sips he took when his tummy was full but his mouth was on automatic. It is a miracle in itself that somehow I am able to provide nourishment enough to feed and grow a child for months. It is similar to how I felt about the pregnancy. I did literally nothing - and yet something perfect was growing and forming inside me. Now I still do nothing- I try to eat well and drink lots of water, but these are things I try to do anyway. Now I have a more pointed purpose- but yet all in all- I do nothing and these miracles occur in and around me. It is nature, biology, things functioning as they should... yet it is personal and miraculous, something that doesn't seem like steril science.
I love it when Hunter smiles, these smiles I take as genuine smiles- I don't care what people say about gas or poop- he's smiling. I love it when Hunter is sleeping so contentedly- it is the epitome of innocence. I even love when Hunter projectile poops or pees- he has no idea the chaos it could cause or why it might be hilarious- he is just doing his business at the particular time we have his diaper off. I love it when Hunter sneezes- it's the perfect little sneeze and he often has a little grin on his face afterward that looks like satisfaction.
So, since I started this entry, I've fed Hunter, watched him coo for a guest and put him down for a nap. He seems to be enjoying today. We had some issues with our heater (one really- namely it wasn't working) and someone from the church came by and did some magic and now it works! Poor Hunter had to be cold last night, and he was a little more restless through the night. So here's hoping that tonight he will sleep better since it will be warmer.
Ok- so that's my post for now- I'll write more later between feedings, between naps, between poops. I'll try to be honest and yet I will keep the light on.
I need to learn how to do all the fancy things like posting pictures, etc. But for now you get words.
Hunter Isaac Snow was born on September 16th at 9:22am. I really don't believe the statement I just made. Being pregnant and wrapping your head around that phenomenon is a completely tame idea compared with the profound and hard to grasp reality of a human child living in your care. I even question that his name is Hunter. It seems ridiculous that I had the power (together with Jason) to name a human. I call him Hunter and every now and then my voice has an element of hesitation- like I am asking him if I am mistaken. He is utterly and completely dependent upon me- more so than on anyone else- and yet I feel strangely dependent on him. If he was not around- my days would not be organized around his needs, his smiles, his pooping and burping abilities. I live each day in part to maintain the survival of another human being. That is daunting and inspiring at the same time.
Motherhood is something people either treat as sainthood to be aspired to or completely mundane and to be avoided. My vote is that it lies somewhere in the middle. Motherhood, at least for me in this early stage, is very primal. People talk in rosy terms and it doesn't seem to quite grasp the depth of dependence for survival that is required of mothers. People apologize for my lack of sleep and are amazed at how well I've handled it. I wonder to myself- is there really any other option? You have to get up. That neccessity makes it something that doesn't cause me to feel rosy or mundane. Like a mother bird travelling the skies for food for her little ones- she probably doesn't feel proud of herself for feeding her chicks, nor does she find her job useless and mudane. Primal. It's the best word I can use. So everything I do for Hunter at this point is a very real job- the most important job with satisfaction measured in growth and the signs of contentment from a baby. It is odd that a baby who cannot speak and barely responds can offer such positive affirmation in this job. But one of the most affirming things I have encountered is a good, solid burp from Hunter.
Don't get me wrong in the job analogy- there are rosy elements. I love it when Hunter is done eating and his face is covered with the remnants of the last few sips he took when his tummy was full but his mouth was on automatic. It is a miracle in itself that somehow I am able to provide nourishment enough to feed and grow a child for months. It is similar to how I felt about the pregnancy. I did literally nothing - and yet something perfect was growing and forming inside me. Now I still do nothing- I try to eat well and drink lots of water, but these are things I try to do anyway. Now I have a more pointed purpose- but yet all in all- I do nothing and these miracles occur in and around me. It is nature, biology, things functioning as they should... yet it is personal and miraculous, something that doesn't seem like steril science.
I love it when Hunter smiles, these smiles I take as genuine smiles- I don't care what people say about gas or poop- he's smiling. I love it when Hunter is sleeping so contentedly- it is the epitome of innocence. I even love when Hunter projectile poops or pees- he has no idea the chaos it could cause or why it might be hilarious- he is just doing his business at the particular time we have his diaper off. I love it when Hunter sneezes- it's the perfect little sneeze and he often has a little grin on his face afterward that looks like satisfaction.
So, since I started this entry, I've fed Hunter, watched him coo for a guest and put him down for a nap. He seems to be enjoying today. We had some issues with our heater (one really- namely it wasn't working) and someone from the church came by and did some magic and now it works! Poor Hunter had to be cold last night, and he was a little more restless through the night. So here's hoping that tonight he will sleep better since it will be warmer.
Ok- so that's my post for now- I'll write more later between feedings, between naps, between poops. I'll try to be honest and yet I will keep the light on.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Things to be Thankful for
I'm not a habitually grateful person. Unfortunately I am not one of those that wakes up every morning to seize the day, thank the sun for rising and the day for starting. I leave all the lights off, slowly ease my way into the morning, and wait until the last minute to put my hearing aids in. It may be this morning mentality that prevents me from counting my blessings. However- today- in a random way (on my way to the bathroom)- I was struck by the things I am thankful for...
1) At my office, the bathroom is literally right next to my office. Who can beat that for a pregnant lady?
2) I work about 20 hours a week in a fairly stress-free part-time job.
3) I walk across the street to go to work, by the time I've worked up any semblance of sweat- I'm indoors with some of the most hot-natured air-conditioning loving people I know. I am not hot and it's July!
4) My husband fixes me breakfast on a semi-regular basis. I'm talking bacon, eggs and toast.
5) The way my desk is and every other place I hang out between work and home- I usually have a place to put my feet up. Swelling has not been an issue and my feet feel great. I rarely have to stand for a long period of time.
6) I have an endless supply of cold water at home and at work.
7) My dog doesn't jump on me- only on my husband.
8) My cell phone enables me to keep in touch with my family and all friends who can help me when I am clueless about what to do next.
9) I like my doctor, and she likes me.
10) I live in Northern Virginia- and although the pace is hectic and the prices are high- the hospitals are superb.
11) I have had all the right symptoms of pregnancy- down to the pelvic stretching (more on that later maybe) that will hopefully prepare me for a normal birth. I even haven't had much heartburn.
12) I am in a church that has embraced my husband and me to the extent of being beyond spoiled. This church hasn't seen a baby from the staff in a while- and seem content to be ridiculously excited about it.
13) Between church, family, and random neighbors- I am told about 3 times a day how great I look.
14) We have been blessed financially through generous gifts from our family, and also support from our church.
15) Everyone who has had a boy within the last 6 months is keen on giving us all their clothes that their little ones have grown out of, meaning we will not be purchasing clothes for about 7 years.
16) Likewise, anyone who has been pregnant, ever, has given me clothes, pillows, bras, etc- and the rest has been filled in by my mother- the world's best bargain shopper.
I'm going to miss being pregnant- I really think so. I am one of THOSE weird women. This is not so bad. I will have to remember this time- because next time won't be so easy or at least so ridiculously easy. But who knows- now that I've counted these blessings- I'm starting to think maybe this is just how things are for us! : ) We are blessed!
1) At my office, the bathroom is literally right next to my office. Who can beat that for a pregnant lady?
2) I work about 20 hours a week in a fairly stress-free part-time job.
3) I walk across the street to go to work, by the time I've worked up any semblance of sweat- I'm indoors with some of the most hot-natured air-conditioning loving people I know. I am not hot and it's July!
4) My husband fixes me breakfast on a semi-regular basis. I'm talking bacon, eggs and toast.
5) The way my desk is and every other place I hang out between work and home- I usually have a place to put my feet up. Swelling has not been an issue and my feet feel great. I rarely have to stand for a long period of time.
6) I have an endless supply of cold water at home and at work.
7) My dog doesn't jump on me- only on my husband.
8) My cell phone enables me to keep in touch with my family and all friends who can help me when I am clueless about what to do next.
9) I like my doctor, and she likes me.
10) I live in Northern Virginia- and although the pace is hectic and the prices are high- the hospitals are superb.
11) I have had all the right symptoms of pregnancy- down to the pelvic stretching (more on that later maybe) that will hopefully prepare me for a normal birth. I even haven't had much heartburn.
12) I am in a church that has embraced my husband and me to the extent of being beyond spoiled. This church hasn't seen a baby from the staff in a while- and seem content to be ridiculously excited about it.
13) Between church, family, and random neighbors- I am told about 3 times a day how great I look.
14) We have been blessed financially through generous gifts from our family, and also support from our church.
15) Everyone who has had a boy within the last 6 months is keen on giving us all their clothes that their little ones have grown out of, meaning we will not be purchasing clothes for about 7 years.
16) Likewise, anyone who has been pregnant, ever, has given me clothes, pillows, bras, etc- and the rest has been filled in by my mother- the world's best bargain shopper.
I'm going to miss being pregnant- I really think so. I am one of THOSE weird women. This is not so bad. I will have to remember this time- because next time won't be so easy or at least so ridiculously easy. But who knows- now that I've counted these blessings- I'm starting to think maybe this is just how things are for us! : ) We are blessed!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Pregnancy Files
I update my family from time to time with an email I title "Pregnancy Files"- it is pretty sporadic and mostly when there is any news or I am struck by something in my pregnancy... I just wrote one today and thought I'd post it here, since I haven't updated my blog in a while!
It's been a while since I've sent any updates! I think really because nothing has been happening- other than being told how "big" I've gotten.
I think people think it feels good to be called big, like when you were 4 and you couldn't wait to be 14. And I admit- the first few people who commented on how lovely and pregnant looking I was- the "big" comment was more like a compliment- like I was now officially pregnant. The problem occurs when you start hearing "wow- you've really popped" about a dozen times a day, and sometimes from a repeat offender. Family gets to say it because they are family and they don't see you all the time. Everyone else- enough already! I swear, by the comments I have received, that I have sufficiently "popped" about 147 times in the last 4 weeks alone. Amazing, and really I should be huge with that much popping... but I feel normal, sufficiently once "popped" and pregnant.
I'm in my 6th month- this Wednesday will be the 24 week routine check up. The first check up since we had our ultrasound and found out we had a healthy baby boy. I'm excited to go to this visit only because it feels like so long since the last visit, and I have a feeling there is more information to be had and spread now. Or I'll just pee in a cup and come back in 4 more weeks.
People keep asking me how I feel and my base response is "I can't complain." I think it is good- because I really can't. I feel pregnant- but by the looks of how things could be- I'm feeling pretty good! I've never been dressed as cute except maybe when I was 4, I've never been complimented and doted upon so much in my life- how could I complain? The biggest nuisance is peeing more often- but I get to eat more ice cream, so it's a win-win situation. : )
Baby Boy Snow has developed the following habits: kicking my bladder. It is the coolest thing to finally be able to feel the baby (which I have been able to more in this last week than ever before!)- but it seems that his favorite target is Mommy's bladder. I keep telling him that it is impolite, he should go for the kidney or maybe even the front of my belly so Jason gets a chance to feel him. He's not big enough or kicking hard enough for anyone else to feel him- so it's a neat private party between the two of us. Another thing he has picked up is hanging out on the left side of my belly. I can just feel him kind of all the way over- squishing on that side, hanging out. I feel like he could be using his space more efficiently, but maybe he's training for the "trapped" feeling he'll have when he grows to fill the whole belly.
I told Baby Boy Snow (no- we have no real names yet) that he is so lucky because he will have cousins who are basically the same age as he is! He kicked my bladder in happy response.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Sermon Writing
I am writing a sermon. Wait, no. Let me try that again. I am rewriting and erasing and editing and eeking out a sermon for this Sunday. I enjoy the whole process... after it's done. Right now I am frustrated because once again I am preaching on a "special" day- which is totally cool (United Methodist Women Day)- and while I want to write my fabulous "women rock" sermon... I have the "what is the church" sermon coming out the side gate. I don't know how to put the two together- and I'm tired of my own voice (on paper) at this point. There is little Spirit flowing here- and I could really use some Spirit. I especially would like the Spirit to strike between now and tomorrow evening. That would help. I'm at the point where I could take the existing sermon I have and make something out of it- or... if the Spirit flows- I may take on a totally different direction. The problem is- I need to have the bulletin done by tomorrow. So there's the timeline for the spirit. I've been working on this for a few weeks- so its not procrastination, its that each time I work on it I get blocked and can't make something happen.
I want to preach the Word- not "some words." I want to get complimented after the service because it was a good sermon that makes people think, not because I'm cute and pregnant and that's a novelty to see a pregnant lady preach on UMW Sunday. I want to speak truth that sets people free. I want to speak truth that brings new life into a dull space. I want to speak light in dark corners.
I have high expectations.... and am getting a little nervous about it all. Pray that the Spirit flows!
I want to preach the Word- not "some words." I want to get complimented after the service because it was a good sermon that makes people think, not because I'm cute and pregnant and that's a novelty to see a pregnant lady preach on UMW Sunday. I want to speak truth that sets people free. I want to speak truth that brings new life into a dull space. I want to speak light in dark corners.
I have high expectations.... and am getting a little nervous about it all. Pray that the Spirit flows!
Friday, April 4, 2008
The King
Today is the anniversary of Martin Luther King's assassination. It's weird that we commemorate these days, like going back to the site of a car crash years later. I guess it makes sense- just as much as we like to remember and relive those days that we celebrate- we need to remember and relive those days that make a dent in our minds. I see the loss of MLK almost like a loss of innocence for the American people. Those who weren't in the thick of the race struggles or marches or injustices might have been easily ignorant. Once the voice of a people was suddenly and so sharply silenced- it had to cause an extra glance by the previously ignorant.
I wonder what things I am ignorant about today. I could probably even name them for you- because ignorance isn't just a lack of knowledge, it's a lack of action. We were studying some scripture passages for worship planning the other day- and one of the passages has Jesus saying that those who hear the word and do not act are like those who build their house on sand. Those who hear the word and act are like those who build their houses on stone. What is amazing about this text is not that it is a cool analogy and it makes a lot of sense- but that both groups hear the word. No one misses the message, some just choose to do nothing with it.
I think that was King's message to the white folks and black folks of the day- it isn't that the plight of the poor and downtrodden is a big secret- it's that no one seems to be willing to do anything about it- or even saying anything about it. MLK was special only because he took the risk to act on the Word. He was special in a way that really, anyone could be these days. We may not all become world renown or listed in the history books- but we can act.
The trouble is- in memory of today- it still feels like Jesus got it wrong. Those who act get their house blown down. I think MLK knew that, and still believed. Lord, help my unbelief!
I wonder what things I am ignorant about today. I could probably even name them for you- because ignorance isn't just a lack of knowledge, it's a lack of action. We were studying some scripture passages for worship planning the other day- and one of the passages has Jesus saying that those who hear the word and do not act are like those who build their house on sand. Those who hear the word and act are like those who build their houses on stone. What is amazing about this text is not that it is a cool analogy and it makes a lot of sense- but that both groups hear the word. No one misses the message, some just choose to do nothing with it.
I think that was King's message to the white folks and black folks of the day- it isn't that the plight of the poor and downtrodden is a big secret- it's that no one seems to be willing to do anything about it- or even saying anything about it. MLK was special only because he took the risk to act on the Word. He was special in a way that really, anyone could be these days. We may not all become world renown or listed in the history books- but we can act.
The trouble is- in memory of today- it still feels like Jesus got it wrong. Those who act get their house blown down. I think MLK knew that, and still believed. Lord, help my unbelief!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Facebook, sex and haircuts
These are some items on the top of my brain today (and for the last couple of days). I am currently trying to compete with my popular husband to get more (if not at least maybe as many) friends on my facebook than he has. Currently I have around 190 friends, he's in the 250s. It sucks to have been a little of a loner in high school.
Meanwhile, as I increase my friendship profile, I have currently been thinking a lot about sex. Weird- and I'll blame it on the pregnancy. My last doctor's appointment had me sent away with a very precautionary limited-activity prescription. Translation: I'm really fine, but just in case I am not allowed to run a marathon or have sex. So I wasn't really interested in marathons, and not that sex has been, um, plentiful lately- apparently when you're told NOT to do something, there is a psychological response that occurs. So- I have been having some very explicit sex dreams. I'm in some, some are just like somewhat sophisticated pornos. I kid you not. I wake up every morning thinking- wow- I really have some pent up energy there! However, I am not overly imaginative- so don't get excited. The dreams are very basic and involve only quite normal sex things. It's enough for me, I guess. I would think that since the condition I am in has been caused by sex, I wouldn't be so dramatizing and fantasizing about it in my dreams. But no, my dreams have come alive. My husband is a little disappointed that my sex life is all happening during REM. Oh well, doctor's orders.
Then there is the other completely unrelated topic: haircuts. I've been scanning old photos of myself and friends and family into my facebook account (a ploy to get more friends). And it has taken me down memory lane, but mostly- I covet my good hair days. I have not had a professional hair cut (even "hairs r us" would count) for.... over 2 years. I have told myself it is a small sacrifice and really, who needs a professional hair cut when their sister will cut it for free every 6 months or so. As it turns out, I might. My hair is... I think crying. I have it in a pony tail day in and out- occasionally let it down to curl, but most immediately pull it back up and away in a bun. It wants to be loved, carressed... wait- maybe these topics aren't unrelated. The point is- I need a hair cut. I want a hair cut. The only problem is that they tell pregnant ladies not to get a hair cut- because you might do something drastic with all those hormones running around. But the problem is- I need something dramatic, otherwise why not just let my sister cut it again? She can do dramatic- the scizzors are just not as quality.
So there you go. I'm at work. Thinking about facebook, sex, and haircuts.
I guess I could get my hair cut.
Meanwhile, as I increase my friendship profile, I have currently been thinking a lot about sex. Weird- and I'll blame it on the pregnancy. My last doctor's appointment had me sent away with a very precautionary limited-activity prescription. Translation: I'm really fine, but just in case I am not allowed to run a marathon or have sex. So I wasn't really interested in marathons, and not that sex has been, um, plentiful lately- apparently when you're told NOT to do something, there is a psychological response that occurs. So- I have been having some very explicit sex dreams. I'm in some, some are just like somewhat sophisticated pornos. I kid you not. I wake up every morning thinking- wow- I really have some pent up energy there! However, I am not overly imaginative- so don't get excited. The dreams are very basic and involve only quite normal sex things. It's enough for me, I guess. I would think that since the condition I am in has been caused by sex, I wouldn't be so dramatizing and fantasizing about it in my dreams. But no, my dreams have come alive. My husband is a little disappointed that my sex life is all happening during REM. Oh well, doctor's orders.
Then there is the other completely unrelated topic: haircuts. I've been scanning old photos of myself and friends and family into my facebook account (a ploy to get more friends). And it has taken me down memory lane, but mostly- I covet my good hair days. I have not had a professional hair cut (even "hairs r us" would count) for.... over 2 years. I have told myself it is a small sacrifice and really, who needs a professional hair cut when their sister will cut it for free every 6 months or so. As it turns out, I might. My hair is... I think crying. I have it in a pony tail day in and out- occasionally let it down to curl, but most immediately pull it back up and away in a bun. It wants to be loved, carressed... wait- maybe these topics aren't unrelated. The point is- I need a hair cut. I want a hair cut. The only problem is that they tell pregnant ladies not to get a hair cut- because you might do something drastic with all those hormones running around. But the problem is- I need something dramatic, otherwise why not just let my sister cut it again? She can do dramatic- the scizzors are just not as quality.
So there you go. I'm at work. Thinking about facebook, sex, and haircuts.
I guess I could get my hair cut.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Pregnancy Hormones
So the news is officially out- and it seems so are my hormones. The cry-baby ones. Sometimes I hate being pregnant (by the way if you are learning for the first time I am pregnant from this- I hope I tried to call you and tell you!). I don't mean I hate the baby- right now it's nice and tiny and hasn't been kicking me or anything- its legs aren't long enough. No- I hate the emotions and realities that come crashing in when you are expecting a new family member.
The emotions honestly have not been wreaking havok on my system, but classic "me"- they've been lurking underneath, waiting for the INoportune time to show up. Aka- my boss' office. Yes- I cried in front of my boss today- not because he yelled at me, not because he was particularly mean or angry- no- my hormones jumped out and cried. We were discussing the previously mentioned "job bullshit" (finally) and I burst into tears. Stupid face-scrunching tears. Now- I am the hypocrite who tells everyone to let their tears out- feel the feeling, but I like to cry alone and preferably in the shower. Not in my boss' office.
So the emotions and realities: apparently when you have a baby in your stomach, all the things that you didn't let yourself think about before or cry about before- want to be thought over and cried over. Let me give you some examples: 1) Not being close to family, 2) Not having a fabulous garden (I can't make this crap up) 3) Not being close to family, and 4) Not being close to family. My friends happen to be in the same general non-local area as my family- so let's throw them in for 5.
My boss basically ultimately decided as a compromise that he would rather I not take comp time for out of state vacations. Which of course in my irrational head I considered as a direct punishment for not living near my family, because if they all lived 2 hours away, I wouldn't have to leave the state except once a year for beach therapy. And I might have said that out loud. I really don't seem to be good with "fearing" authority. I gratefully got the rest of the staff out of this ridiculous comp time mess, never really got a solid answer on whether or not anyone had a problem with me (he said no one had an issue with how I do my job and that I do a good job- but my insecurities and hormones are suspicious).
So that's how I came to cry in the office. He thought it was about him, and a little bit of it was and I didn't mind making him squirm (although the plan was not originally through tears)- but really it was about where I am in life and where I want to be. I have lived my whole life a military brat: "bloom where you're planted." I've done a decent job at doing that, not being homesick for a minute of my life- not even Freshman year of college (especially not that year). I've never associated a physical place to my home, and so have been happily homeless for years. Now the one thing that my parents did screw up on was when they told me that home is where your family is. Well- after I was done escaping from family in college and so on, I wanted to go back home- but then I had new family (Jason)- so home became Virginia. And it's been blessing upon blessing- my Grandmother lives here, we have a wonderful (too huge) home, we have a fun (big hairy) dog, and we aren't very far from my new family (in-laws). So what's not to love? I even found a dream job or two.
But dammit- home is where the family is- and as long as the rest of my family (and my first family that was the only stable thing in my life growing up) is a million miles away- I'm still feeling homeless. And when I have a baby in my stomach- that makes me uneasy. I've never been able to say it before, but Jason was right: I need to be near my family. Once you admit that, there's no going back to fantasy "bloom where you're planted" land. So now everything I think of and do seems to point me home. And it's making me crazy.
Pregnancy hormones suck.
The emotions honestly have not been wreaking havok on my system, but classic "me"- they've been lurking underneath, waiting for the INoportune time to show up. Aka- my boss' office. Yes- I cried in front of my boss today- not because he yelled at me, not because he was particularly mean or angry- no- my hormones jumped out and cried. We were discussing the previously mentioned "job bullshit" (finally) and I burst into tears. Stupid face-scrunching tears. Now- I am the hypocrite who tells everyone to let their tears out- feel the feeling, but I like to cry alone and preferably in the shower. Not in my boss' office.
So the emotions and realities: apparently when you have a baby in your stomach, all the things that you didn't let yourself think about before or cry about before- want to be thought over and cried over. Let me give you some examples: 1) Not being close to family, 2) Not having a fabulous garden (I can't make this crap up) 3) Not being close to family, and 4) Not being close to family. My friends happen to be in the same general non-local area as my family- so let's throw them in for 5.
My boss basically ultimately decided as a compromise that he would rather I not take comp time for out of state vacations. Which of course in my irrational head I considered as a direct punishment for not living near my family, because if they all lived 2 hours away, I wouldn't have to leave the state except once a year for beach therapy. And I might have said that out loud. I really don't seem to be good with "fearing" authority. I gratefully got the rest of the staff out of this ridiculous comp time mess, never really got a solid answer on whether or not anyone had a problem with me (he said no one had an issue with how I do my job and that I do a good job- but my insecurities and hormones are suspicious).
So that's how I came to cry in the office. He thought it was about him, and a little bit of it was and I didn't mind making him squirm (although the plan was not originally through tears)- but really it was about where I am in life and where I want to be. I have lived my whole life a military brat: "bloom where you're planted." I've done a decent job at doing that, not being homesick for a minute of my life- not even Freshman year of college (especially not that year). I've never associated a physical place to my home, and so have been happily homeless for years. Now the one thing that my parents did screw up on was when they told me that home is where your family is. Well- after I was done escaping from family in college and so on, I wanted to go back home- but then I had new family (Jason)- so home became Virginia. And it's been blessing upon blessing- my Grandmother lives here, we have a wonderful (too huge) home, we have a fun (big hairy) dog, and we aren't very far from my new family (in-laws). So what's not to love? I even found a dream job or two.
But dammit- home is where the family is- and as long as the rest of my family (and my first family that was the only stable thing in my life growing up) is a million miles away- I'm still feeling homeless. And when I have a baby in my stomach- that makes me uneasy. I've never been able to say it before, but Jason was right: I need to be near my family. Once you admit that, there's no going back to fantasy "bloom where you're planted" land. So now everything I think of and do seems to point me home. And it's making me crazy.
Pregnancy hormones suck.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Job Bullshit
I've just eaten my 4th peppermint patty (the smaller kind) and I have about 30 minutes to get ready to go to a boy scout banquet.
There are some things in my life right now that seem just a bit off, odd, or - well- obligatory. I love my job, I'll say that before I complain. What I don't love is job bullshit. Every work place has it- mine is considerably less inundated with it than the average "office space" corporation. Church work comes with its own species of bullshit, and I'm skilled at avoiding it, but every now and then- it bites me in the butt.
I have recently had a triangulating conversation and email about how I've kept track of my hours for the 2 years I've been working at this church. I won't go into the nitty gritty details, but let's just say person A told me person B doesn't like how I've been doing it- and so they're going to go and retroactively calculate my leave time according to their new method- 2 years into the process. I call this bullshit. And I'm going to talk to person B who should have talked to me to begin with - and politely explain my bullshit theory.
All that to say- I hate working for money. I am actually serious. I would much rather have some sort of income not dependant on my job/etc- say- be independantly wealthy- and then volunteer. You see volunteers always are good. Whatever they do- is more than what they had to- so they can't disappoint. Generally speaking, I will say I've seen some disappointing volunteers- but I am not one to over-committ myself.
So I guess I need to write my book, be the next JK Rowling (who am I kidding?) or something- fix this situation so that I can volunteer and garden for the hell of it- not for money- and not so someone can count my hours.
Surely there is a place for me- a place where I do not have to worry about bringing in enough money for the family, a place where I don't have to feel guilty about the fact that my intolerance of job bullshit is what's keeping me from a good ol' government job 40 hours a week that would pay for some health insurance, as opposed to the church insurance that spits on our medical bills and hopes their saliva might bring the numbers down a bit.
All of us intolerant ones- unite, we may be poor- but we have our integrity.
ha.
There are some things in my life right now that seem just a bit off, odd, or - well- obligatory. I love my job, I'll say that before I complain. What I don't love is job bullshit. Every work place has it- mine is considerably less inundated with it than the average "office space" corporation. Church work comes with its own species of bullshit, and I'm skilled at avoiding it, but every now and then- it bites me in the butt.
I have recently had a triangulating conversation and email about how I've kept track of my hours for the 2 years I've been working at this church. I won't go into the nitty gritty details, but let's just say person A told me person B doesn't like how I've been doing it- and so they're going to go and retroactively calculate my leave time according to their new method- 2 years into the process. I call this bullshit. And I'm going to talk to person B who should have talked to me to begin with - and politely explain my bullshit theory.
All that to say- I hate working for money. I am actually serious. I would much rather have some sort of income not dependant on my job/etc- say- be independantly wealthy- and then volunteer. You see volunteers always are good. Whatever they do- is more than what they had to- so they can't disappoint. Generally speaking, I will say I've seen some disappointing volunteers- but I am not one to over-committ myself.
So I guess I need to write my book, be the next JK Rowling (who am I kidding?) or something- fix this situation so that I can volunteer and garden for the hell of it- not for money- and not so someone can count my hours.
Surely there is a place for me- a place where I do not have to worry about bringing in enough money for the family, a place where I don't have to feel guilty about the fact that my intolerance of job bullshit is what's keeping me from a good ol' government job 40 hours a week that would pay for some health insurance, as opposed to the church insurance that spits on our medical bills and hopes their saliva might bring the numbers down a bit.
All of us intolerant ones- unite, we may be poor- but we have our integrity.
ha.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Working from Home
I'm about to leave work (yes, I'm currently very productive at work), to go "work from home." Now this is a fuzzy phrase. It means "I'm not getting anything done here, so I may as well go home and fake it there." The hilarious concept that I might actually get MORE work done at home is.... well- um- hilarious.
Anyway. I truly believe it this time though, the flourescent lights, harsh desk, flow of irrelevant emails and guilt-trips every time I find one I accidentally ignored- are way too much for this easily distracted person. I don't have ADD- I think it's more the ability to completely forget what one was doing only two seconds before. I have.... dementia? Sometimes I think I do. More on that later.
As I'm here at work, I'm blogging, counting how many hours I've worked, working out my New Year's resolution, working out creative ways to trick the church into being more energy efficient, and making all social plans for 2008. So far- all those things are going well. What I need to be doing is calling people, copying random things, calling people, and calling people. That's about it. Oh and organizing my files. So I can call more people (with better information). I really love my job: Coordinator of Congregational Care. It is perfect for me- but sometimes I feel like a kid with every finger stuck in a different piece of candy.... which to eat first? By the time I'm on the 10th candy, I forget candy #1 needs more attention, then I discover I have candy in my pockets, too!
weird analogy.
So- I'm going home. To get more done.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
Anyway. I truly believe it this time though, the flourescent lights, harsh desk, flow of irrelevant emails and guilt-trips every time I find one I accidentally ignored- are way too much for this easily distracted person. I don't have ADD- I think it's more the ability to completely forget what one was doing only two seconds before. I have.... dementia? Sometimes I think I do. More on that later.
As I'm here at work, I'm blogging, counting how many hours I've worked, working out my New Year's resolution, working out creative ways to trick the church into being more energy efficient, and making all social plans for 2008. So far- all those things are going well. What I need to be doing is calling people, copying random things, calling people, and calling people. That's about it. Oh and organizing my files. So I can call more people (with better information). I really love my job: Coordinator of Congregational Care. It is perfect for me- but sometimes I feel like a kid with every finger stuck in a different piece of candy.... which to eat first? By the time I'm on the 10th candy, I forget candy #1 needs more attention, then I discover I have candy in my pockets, too!
weird analogy.
So- I'm going home. To get more done.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
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