So, I am in Auburn for sister weekend. We are covering all topics from hairy legs to spouses and babies. We are having a fabulous time and I am dreading reality. Auburn is this little hub of a hiatus. It houses the church that I discovered my voice in, the classes that I dreamt my dreams in, and the places of friendship that formed me into an adult. It seems appropriate that I should be here with my sisters in this time of my life when I am transitioning yet again to a new phase in my life.
Florida and Grandmother seems like decades ago, my house and my husband and my child seem distant and strange as I reminisce in the Auburn context. My sisters have been with me through all the transitions- maybe not as close and as intentional as now- but present. So it does feel like a little island in the middle of a journey. I stopped over to take a break. It isn't productive like I thought it would be, but it is meaningful and a rest.
Jessa and Kelly helped me celebrate my birthday early with a cupcake shaped cake, wine, presents and all! SO nice. It made me feel worse about not doing anything for Jason for his birthday. I need to do something- man I suck.
Tonight we're going to the chocolate bar in the hotel- that should be fun.
Yea- I just don't know what to do with myself. I think I'm at one of those places in life where time and opportunity and my own action are just going to have to get slapped together at the same time. And then I'll have to run with it- and just keep running or I'll give up, let go, fear the risk and fear the failure. I have actually an idea of what to do- but it will take a while to make it work. I don't know if I have the guts to do it.
It has something to do with an assessment/training/approval/certificate for assisted living places to make them better. More on that later and why this non-entrepreneur is scared shitless about taking on an endeavor like this. We shall see.
Ok- time to rejoin my sisters. : )
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
stay over
I'm staying with my good friend Cliff and his boyfriend Jeremy tonight on the way to Auburn. They greeted me with wine and then fed me cheese. That put together with a good conversation made my night!
but it's way past my bed time. so- more on them later.
goodnight all. :)
but it's way past my bed time. so- more on them later.
goodnight all. :)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Home
It is amazing how quickly I got home. I'm here. I slept last night, although I admit even though we went to bed early, 730am still came too soon. The anxious feeling in my stomach ebbs and flows. I need to call my Grandmother, call my Mom, etc. Check in. Still not completely gone from what is going on in Florida either. I am going to see my sisters this weekend- which will be another form of therapy for me. I am going to drive forever to get there- because I'm not the world's best planner.
The house looks great- Jason has been doing and overseeing some big projects. Among them are the new wall and paint in the basement (heavenly), the back walkway has been cleaned out and powerwashed, the yard shrubs have been trimmed and cut back where needed, the lawn was mowed although thanks to rain it looks like it needs it again, the house was clean, the files were moved to more convenient spots, the laundry room was back to its original form. I'm sure there's more- but this was pretty amazing enough. We have more inherited things distributed throughout the house.
So now here I am. Sitting in Hunter's room blogging while he plays with all his toys that feel new to him. And I'm back. Same routine, same morning, and I bet same afternoon. Weird how we fall right back into place. The only thing is- instead of taking comfort in the familiarity of all these things- I am slightly disoriented by the sameness. My life has completely changed and I have nothing to show for it. How do you show absence? How do you ritualize a loss that isn't really gone, just moved? How do you represent a career change when you never really had a career to begin with? How do you search for your next sacred call when you just discovered you were follwing your last one?
Mourning absence and change is really weird.
A friend wants me to eat breakfast with her. On the double! I'll save processing for later.
The house looks great- Jason has been doing and overseeing some big projects. Among them are the new wall and paint in the basement (heavenly), the back walkway has been cleaned out and powerwashed, the yard shrubs have been trimmed and cut back where needed, the lawn was mowed although thanks to rain it looks like it needs it again, the house was clean, the files were moved to more convenient spots, the laundry room was back to its original form. I'm sure there's more- but this was pretty amazing enough. We have more inherited things distributed throughout the house.
So now here I am. Sitting in Hunter's room blogging while he plays with all his toys that feel new to him. And I'm back. Same routine, same morning, and I bet same afternoon. Weird how we fall right back into place. The only thing is- instead of taking comfort in the familiarity of all these things- I am slightly disoriented by the sameness. My life has completely changed and I have nothing to show for it. How do you show absence? How do you ritualize a loss that isn't really gone, just moved? How do you represent a career change when you never really had a career to begin with? How do you search for your next sacred call when you just discovered you were follwing your last one?
Mourning absence and change is really weird.
A friend wants me to eat breakfast with her. On the double! I'll save processing for later.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wide Readership and Stomach Problems
So apparently I have a wide readership. And by wide I mean more than 3. Apparently my aunt and sister's father-in-law occassionally read. It's scary and exciting at the same time. The kind of "ooh- have I said anything I didn't need to say" scary. But my promise to myself was that I would be vulnerable- open- honest. There are some things that are easier if not the whole world knows it about you- but these are also the things that make me the most passionate, the things I want to write about. These are the things that I feel indeed write light in dark corners. I will be careful not to invade my family's privacy- but I will invade my own so that the dark corners in other worlds can be illumined maybe by a simple recognition that someone else feels the same. Someone else has been in the pit, someone else has yelled in anger, someone else has been overwhelmed with joy, someone else doesn't know the answers, someone else gets anxious, someone else cares about her family too much, someone else feels very strongly about something. So- there's my purpose in writing and my risk in writing.
Stomach problems. I hate flying. I'm worried about leaving my parents now and my Grandmother. So- I got some stomach churning issues. Oh well.
So- pray for peace. Pray that the demon called confusion leaves my Grandmother well alone. Pray that I sleep soundly in my own bed tonight with the soothing arms of my husband around me. Pray that my parents get a chance to rest and gather themselves together into a cocoon of peace. They'll need the respite- the next few weeks will be challenging. Pray for the courage to be vulnerable.
Stomach problems. I hate flying. I'm worried about leaving my parents now and my Grandmother. So- I got some stomach churning issues. Oh well.
So- pray for peace. Pray that the demon called confusion leaves my Grandmother well alone. Pray that I sleep soundly in my own bed tonight with the soothing arms of my husband around me. Pray that my parents get a chance to rest and gather themselves together into a cocoon of peace. They'll need the respite- the next few weeks will be challenging. Pray for the courage to be vulnerable.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Tired tonight
Today was day 1 of the real deal transition. I am exhausted. I'm leaving tomorrow and going home. I have too many emotions. I'm most likely going to bed.
I am going home. The prevailing emotion following that sentence is excitement. I kinda miss my husband.
So tomorrow I will tell you about my idea for a consulting business where I can tell assisted living places why they suck and get paid to tell them how not to suck.
I am going home. The prevailing emotion following that sentence is excitement. I kinda miss my husband.
So tomorrow I will tell you about my idea for a consulting business where I can tell assisted living places why they suck and get paid to tell them how not to suck.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Focused but not Present
At church this morning I had another one of my lovely experiences of being focused but not present. I was fully participating and paying attention to many details of the service, just none of the ones I was supposed to. This happens to me from time to time- too often in my parents' church, but whatever. So today as I waxed feminist and critical, I came up with all sorts of details to focus on. And I thought about them. Meanwhile, everyone else enjoyed a nice service.
I forgot how historically male and bloody Baptists are. All of the hymns we sang had only and very male images for God, and most of the references to Jesus involved something with blood or refering to the cross. I think that long ago I thought this was just something a lot of churches did, now I'm thinking it might be more a Baptist flavor. There is nothing wrong with male imagery for God or bloody images from the scene of Jesus on the cross- all these things are apprropriate. But now I know a little better about why I am so done with it. Because my whole life in the church has been nothing but this. Many other churches include other imagery, you might go a whole Sunday without blood, and the word "he" may not necessarily be capitalized (which the language nut in me is so annoyed by - he is a pronoun, no matter who it describes and grammatically shouldn't be capitalized- although I get the respect thing, it doesn't make it less annoying). Anyway. Our church in Virginia, for example- is not the golden goose for inclusivity, but I'm realizing that the language is already more diverse just by having Methodist Hymns. It's too bad they aren't as lively or catchy as the Baptist ones.
OK- so I noticed the whole HE HIM BLOOD JESUS CROSS thing. Then the ushers come up- almost military style, I swear one guy turned on his heel to go in front- all men. All men. To collect the offering, which is a weird signal to send anyway having military style men gather the offering. Give me a vagina up there, come on.
Then there was the children's sermon- not bad actually- but the question was posed to the kids "how many of you love coming to the church" - ha- some kids didn't raise their hands and I'm sure most people blew it off as shyness- but come on- not all kids are there by choice. Then she asked why they loved going to church. One kid said "to learn more about God." The woman was good- and even though she picked up on that answer as the "good" answer- she did mention seeing friends, etc and opened it up a little bit. But it made me think- it is possible that this child truly has nothing more fun than learning about God- and her Sunday school teachers might be kick-ass, but maybe just maybe she gave that answer because she thought it was the right one.
It made me think about how I sometimes judge people in church. Oh yes- I judge. SO bad, I am. But I see people- and you know them- that almost have this look of pride just being in the church. And not the good pride- but the preaching to the choir kind of pride. The kind where the minister says one thing and the proud shake their heads in obvious agreement. "Oh yes, we know what's right and wrong." That kind. They make my skin crawl. I try to let it go- but it's true. I'm putting it out there. They are also everywhere- in every church- in all variations of beliefs. They drive me crazy and I judge them. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't. My church experience would be less jaded if I would stop this. But I can't seem to help myself. Well- I don't try too hard. Anyway, so this pride thing. I thought about the kids and the right answer, the military men and their proud march, the whole thing. And I had a mini-epiphany. There are many churches whose congregations come to hear that they are right. They are right about who God is, they are right about what sin is, they are right about where they should go from here. Even when we talk about how we're wrong, it's about how we know we're wrong and need to do what we know is right. This is how many churches and preachers function. Shoot- it's how we all function before we get the rug swept out from our feet by life and realize we have no idea what the hell we're doing. The false illusion that we are right leads us to fall even harder when we are horrifyingly confronted with the fact that we were wrong, at least about a couple things. The strongest people go one of two ways: adapt and grow, or stay so stubbornly in belief of their rightness that nothing changes. What do the rest of us do? Fall apart at the seams until someone picks us up and whispers "I was wrong once too, my life fell apart and I made it, and God actually did help."
So when the little girl answered the children's sermon question- was she trying to be right? Or be real? When the men march down the aisle, are they proud of their role in the right place, or are they proud to give money to God, because they have nothing better to do with it? When we nod in agreement with the pastor- are we nodding because we know we're all right, or is it because we know we have something to learn here?
In my judging and bitterness, I know I don't have much more to hang on than these pride packs. I do have hope that I can be a part of a congregation that doesn't mind learning together. That will be wrong together. That will shout from the beginning of the hymns to the end: I HAVE NO IDEA! I'M LEARNING! SHOCK ME AGAIN!
The guest preacher for the next 6 weeks is good. And I don't mean necessarily amazing as a preacher- although he wasn't bad- but if I'm not mistaken- I think he's goood at what his role is: helping a church change and adjust to a new pastor. His sermon was talking of the inevitability of change. But better than that were the little details of his sermon. He mentioned each staff member by name. He mentioned the last pastor affectionately. He quoted several lines of scripture. He spoke of change in not so scary ways, but clearly change. He talked about our creation in Genesis- which if he ever heard the last preacher preach- was a part of nearly every one of his sermons. I don't think this was a coincidence. He quoted a female priest to appeal to the folks like me, scripture to appeal to the militia men, Genesis for the Pastor mourners and Staff names for the uneasy. This man was goood.
I've written a lot today. Hope I haven't annoyed too many people. Oh, real quick- a revelation from today: Grandmother will occassionally get into what I not-so-sensitively call suicidal moods. She'll say how she should jump in a lake, we'll be glad when she's gone, she's glad she had a shower because the mortician will appreciate it- not kidding - all quotes from my cutsy little grandmother. These comments are frequent enough that they just generally annoy me now. She does it when she's feeling like a burden or frustrated to not be able to do something for herself. All it really does is make the rest of us feel like shit for making her want to die. And you almost always have to respond- how can you leave a suicidal remark hanging? You can't. Well today Dad mentioned that the people at her new place were looking forward to her "checking in." This struck a memory for Grandmother and she proceeded to tell us about how her Dad used to say in times of annoyance or frustration: "I think I'll just check out." Verbatim, I've heard my Grandmother say this phrase. Now I know who to blame. Watch what you say folks, your great great grandchildren may be paying the price.
I forgot how historically male and bloody Baptists are. All of the hymns we sang had only and very male images for God, and most of the references to Jesus involved something with blood or refering to the cross. I think that long ago I thought this was just something a lot of churches did, now I'm thinking it might be more a Baptist flavor. There is nothing wrong with male imagery for God or bloody images from the scene of Jesus on the cross- all these things are apprropriate. But now I know a little better about why I am so done with it. Because my whole life in the church has been nothing but this. Many other churches include other imagery, you might go a whole Sunday without blood, and the word "he" may not necessarily be capitalized (which the language nut in me is so annoyed by - he is a pronoun, no matter who it describes and grammatically shouldn't be capitalized- although I get the respect thing, it doesn't make it less annoying). Anyway. Our church in Virginia, for example- is not the golden goose for inclusivity, but I'm realizing that the language is already more diverse just by having Methodist Hymns. It's too bad they aren't as lively or catchy as the Baptist ones.
OK- so I noticed the whole HE HIM BLOOD JESUS CROSS thing. Then the ushers come up- almost military style, I swear one guy turned on his heel to go in front- all men. All men. To collect the offering, which is a weird signal to send anyway having military style men gather the offering. Give me a vagina up there, come on.
Then there was the children's sermon- not bad actually- but the question was posed to the kids "how many of you love coming to the church" - ha- some kids didn't raise their hands and I'm sure most people blew it off as shyness- but come on- not all kids are there by choice. Then she asked why they loved going to church. One kid said "to learn more about God." The woman was good- and even though she picked up on that answer as the "good" answer- she did mention seeing friends, etc and opened it up a little bit. But it made me think- it is possible that this child truly has nothing more fun than learning about God- and her Sunday school teachers might be kick-ass, but maybe just maybe she gave that answer because she thought it was the right one.
It made me think about how I sometimes judge people in church. Oh yes- I judge. SO bad, I am. But I see people- and you know them- that almost have this look of pride just being in the church. And not the good pride- but the preaching to the choir kind of pride. The kind where the minister says one thing and the proud shake their heads in obvious agreement. "Oh yes, we know what's right and wrong." That kind. They make my skin crawl. I try to let it go- but it's true. I'm putting it out there. They are also everywhere- in every church- in all variations of beliefs. They drive me crazy and I judge them. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't. My church experience would be less jaded if I would stop this. But I can't seem to help myself. Well- I don't try too hard. Anyway, so this pride thing. I thought about the kids and the right answer, the military men and their proud march, the whole thing. And I had a mini-epiphany. There are many churches whose congregations come to hear that they are right. They are right about who God is, they are right about what sin is, they are right about where they should go from here. Even when we talk about how we're wrong, it's about how we know we're wrong and need to do what we know is right. This is how many churches and preachers function. Shoot- it's how we all function before we get the rug swept out from our feet by life and realize we have no idea what the hell we're doing. The false illusion that we are right leads us to fall even harder when we are horrifyingly confronted with the fact that we were wrong, at least about a couple things. The strongest people go one of two ways: adapt and grow, or stay so stubbornly in belief of their rightness that nothing changes. What do the rest of us do? Fall apart at the seams until someone picks us up and whispers "I was wrong once too, my life fell apart and I made it, and God actually did help."
So when the little girl answered the children's sermon question- was she trying to be right? Or be real? When the men march down the aisle, are they proud of their role in the right place, or are they proud to give money to God, because they have nothing better to do with it? When we nod in agreement with the pastor- are we nodding because we know we're all right, or is it because we know we have something to learn here?
In my judging and bitterness, I know I don't have much more to hang on than these pride packs. I do have hope that I can be a part of a congregation that doesn't mind learning together. That will be wrong together. That will shout from the beginning of the hymns to the end: I HAVE NO IDEA! I'M LEARNING! SHOCK ME AGAIN!
The guest preacher for the next 6 weeks is good. And I don't mean necessarily amazing as a preacher- although he wasn't bad- but if I'm not mistaken- I think he's goood at what his role is: helping a church change and adjust to a new pastor. His sermon was talking of the inevitability of change. But better than that were the little details of his sermon. He mentioned each staff member by name. He mentioned the last pastor affectionately. He quoted several lines of scripture. He spoke of change in not so scary ways, but clearly change. He talked about our creation in Genesis- which if he ever heard the last preacher preach- was a part of nearly every one of his sermons. I don't think this was a coincidence. He quoted a female priest to appeal to the folks like me, scripture to appeal to the militia men, Genesis for the Pastor mourners and Staff names for the uneasy. This man was goood.
I've written a lot today. Hope I haven't annoyed too many people. Oh, real quick- a revelation from today: Grandmother will occassionally get into what I not-so-sensitively call suicidal moods. She'll say how she should jump in a lake, we'll be glad when she's gone, she's glad she had a shower because the mortician will appreciate it- not kidding - all quotes from my cutsy little grandmother. These comments are frequent enough that they just generally annoy me now. She does it when she's feeling like a burden or frustrated to not be able to do something for herself. All it really does is make the rest of us feel like shit for making her want to die. And you almost always have to respond- how can you leave a suicidal remark hanging? You can't. Well today Dad mentioned that the people at her new place were looking forward to her "checking in." This struck a memory for Grandmother and she proceeded to tell us about how her Dad used to say in times of annoyance or frustration: "I think I'll just check out." Verbatim, I've heard my Grandmother say this phrase. Now I know who to blame. Watch what you say folks, your great great grandchildren may be paying the price.
Alone Time
So I got in the car today and realized that it was the first time in nearly two weeks that I have been truly alone. By myself. AAAAaaalone. Like the 80s song, only not sad- but more triumphant and rare. I've even been sharing a bed with my sister (until she left Thursday). I will say- I enjoyed the alone time. I made the best of it by calling Nancy and talking without worry that someone was waiting on me, needed me, heard me, etc. I am looking forward to going home, but I am also feeling good about what is going on here. Things in Grandmother's apartment look pretty good. The staff at the place seem pretty friendly. My parents are making plans and doing good things. Grandmother will see one or both of my parents 4 times a week. And it is not too much for anyone. This makes me happy.
And now I'm trying to think of what I really want to write about. It was interesting watching the interaction between my Grandmother and Dad as the past stories are brought up- particularly Dad's acceptance and journey through college at the Air Force Academy. I don't think I ever really thought very much about the fact that he really did not have a good time in college. It's kind of amazing that he let all three of us girls go and do the big ridiculous college thing. He could have reacted in the opposite way to his lacking of a real college experience. Instead- he was happy to watch us go- and enjoyed living slightly vicariously through us. It struck me that Dad has never been back to the academy. Not once since he graduated. That's intentional. Even as he was talking about it- I could hear something in his voice that was sort of cold and distant about the whole thing. He didn't sound resentful. It was more a disappointed acceptance that he just never got to experience a real college. Grandmother could pick up on his lack of enthusiasm for the school and kept saying how proud she was of him and how it was so good for his career and how he was going to make her feel guilty about letting him go there if he kept talking about how hard it was. It was a little tense- I even muttered under my breath to Dad that he may want to reassure her about the whole thing. He didn't. Not really. He deflected the topic a little- but he ever actually said it was a good thing, and when she asked if he regreted it- he didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. I think that Dad enjoyed and appreciated most of his military career- but he was always kind of on the fringe of the military mentality. As well as he can fit into that mold- he didn't buy the whole kit. I'm eternally grateful for that. He didn't turn into an asshole fighter-pilot. He retired in his flight suit. When Grandmother assumed he retired full colonel and he said no, it was just lt. colonel- and she was kind of like- oh well no matter. I could feel a little tension. It was strange. Then it sort of hit me. Dad has issues (had/has) with his parents. Opa was demanding and stubborn- his rank made it so that Dad was commissioned first in hs class and he made Dad memorize the commissioning speel. No one else did and Opa was disgusted. Grandmother expected you to do what was best and the way she showed it was by smothering you with her pride if you did one thing so that you felt awful to do another. At the same time- I can see her as a gentle and firm mother. Dad is closer to his mother than he was Opa... and I think Dad is surprisingly gentle and sweet with us considering how stoic both his parents were. I've never seen Grandmother cry. or my Dad. The closest I ever saw was when Grandmother went to the rehab place after her hospital stay (vicodin erases everything) and she realized she wasn't home yet. She was so scared. But no tears.
How can someone not ever cry?
Anyway. That was interesting - and there were more bits and pieces to that conversation tonight - but those were some of the more interesting parts. It's so funny how no matter how far you get into adulthood- there's still small pieces of you that believes your parents are perfect- or at least don't really recognize that they are who they are because of a whole host of reasons hidden from your eye- their past being a huge part of it. I'd never heard my Dad talk much about the academy- and tonight was the first time I really took notice of that.
by the way- my parent's house makes all sorts of funky noises that I don't know yet and it freaks me out. their AC for one is obnoxious.
ok- going to bed. with family history and wonky AC on the brain.
And now I'm trying to think of what I really want to write about. It was interesting watching the interaction between my Grandmother and Dad as the past stories are brought up- particularly Dad's acceptance and journey through college at the Air Force Academy. I don't think I ever really thought very much about the fact that he really did not have a good time in college. It's kind of amazing that he let all three of us girls go and do the big ridiculous college thing. He could have reacted in the opposite way to his lacking of a real college experience. Instead- he was happy to watch us go- and enjoyed living slightly vicariously through us. It struck me that Dad has never been back to the academy. Not once since he graduated. That's intentional. Even as he was talking about it- I could hear something in his voice that was sort of cold and distant about the whole thing. He didn't sound resentful. It was more a disappointed acceptance that he just never got to experience a real college. Grandmother could pick up on his lack of enthusiasm for the school and kept saying how proud she was of him and how it was so good for his career and how he was going to make her feel guilty about letting him go there if he kept talking about how hard it was. It was a little tense- I even muttered under my breath to Dad that he may want to reassure her about the whole thing. He didn't. Not really. He deflected the topic a little- but he ever actually said it was a good thing, and when she asked if he regreted it- he didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. I think that Dad enjoyed and appreciated most of his military career- but he was always kind of on the fringe of the military mentality. As well as he can fit into that mold- he didn't buy the whole kit. I'm eternally grateful for that. He didn't turn into an asshole fighter-pilot. He retired in his flight suit. When Grandmother assumed he retired full colonel and he said no, it was just lt. colonel- and she was kind of like- oh well no matter. I could feel a little tension. It was strange. Then it sort of hit me. Dad has issues (had/has) with his parents. Opa was demanding and stubborn- his rank made it so that Dad was commissioned first in hs class and he made Dad memorize the commissioning speel. No one else did and Opa was disgusted. Grandmother expected you to do what was best and the way she showed it was by smothering you with her pride if you did one thing so that you felt awful to do another. At the same time- I can see her as a gentle and firm mother. Dad is closer to his mother than he was Opa... and I think Dad is surprisingly gentle and sweet with us considering how stoic both his parents were. I've never seen Grandmother cry. or my Dad. The closest I ever saw was when Grandmother went to the rehab place after her hospital stay (vicodin erases everything) and she realized she wasn't home yet. She was so scared. But no tears.
How can someone not ever cry?
Anyway. That was interesting - and there were more bits and pieces to that conversation tonight - but those were some of the more interesting parts. It's so funny how no matter how far you get into adulthood- there's still small pieces of you that believes your parents are perfect- or at least don't really recognize that they are who they are because of a whole host of reasons hidden from your eye- their past being a huge part of it. I'd never heard my Dad talk much about the academy- and tonight was the first time I really took notice of that.
by the way- my parent's house makes all sorts of funky noises that I don't know yet and it freaks me out. their AC for one is obnoxious.
ok- going to bed. with family history and wonky AC on the brain.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Good Enough Day
So today was a pretty decent day. I went up and down on the rollercoaster of frustration between Hunter and Grandmother- but all in all the good moments outweighed the frustrating. Hunter is a genuine toddler- as in- nearly 2- as in totally a stinker. That can be "fun."
My favorite part of the day? Well maybe not my favorite, but certainly memorable... Grandmother and I sat in the same room reading (actively, no dozing) our respective books for an hour and a half. I think we both really enjoyed it- I could tell by her tone of conversation and contented reading that Grandmother really did enjoy reading. I think she needs some chill time (not sleeping time) as much as the rest of us. So it was rewarding. Except for the fact that I read a book given to me by Christina of aforementioned cool-dom who forgot to mention it was one in a series. So I was excited for the book to end, but rather it was just the beginning. Of a series. A little annoying. Now I have to read more intense books.
I'm pretty tired today- so I'm keeping it short.
My favorite part of the day? Well maybe not my favorite, but certainly memorable... Grandmother and I sat in the same room reading (actively, no dozing) our respective books for an hour and a half. I think we both really enjoyed it- I could tell by her tone of conversation and contented reading that Grandmother really did enjoy reading. I think she needs some chill time (not sleeping time) as much as the rest of us. So it was rewarding. Except for the fact that I read a book given to me by Christina of aforementioned cool-dom who forgot to mention it was one in a series. So I was excited for the book to end, but rather it was just the beginning. Of a series. A little annoying. Now I have to read more intense books.
I'm pretty tired today- so I'm keeping it short.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
My friends are out of control
OK- so everyone wants a shout out. Apparently if you please one person you have to please them all. So here in no particular order are the various shout outs for my friends that may or may not read my blog and may or may not give a damn.
(by the way today was a good day, Hunter took a 2.5 hr nap, the movers came and Grandmother got new hearing aids- but let's get back to the shout outs.)
Jessica Elizabeth Kimbrough Wood Garrison. She is one of my best friends who is fiercely loyal. She and I met when I went across the hall from my freshman dorm to find someone with a TV so I could check the weather channel and see how my parents were faring in the latest hurricane. 30 minutes later I had an instant friend, but she realized she didn't have a TV. She is also OCD and has the ability to get more done than the energizer bunny, all while napping when the kids nap and making frequent trips home and beyond. I used to write smiley faces on her Chemistry notes in class just to watch her rewrite the whole page again without the unwanted accessory. She was insane enough to fly by herself to DC to visit me in her first trimester with a 3 yr old and 1 yr old. And we had a great time. She is the stay-at-home-super-mom that the rest of us decide doesn't really exist- except she does- and she likes to monogram, too. She loves people completely- like a fierce mother hen- and she's real southern about it too. She lets you know how she feels about things but dips it in sugar and honey before she forces it down your throat. She forgave me for many sins and holds me to my bond of friendship no matter how slack I might get. I love her- even if she specifically asked for this shout-out.
Nancy Speas Hill. I already changed my blog design to suit her geriatric eyeball needs. She has been grateful. She is someone that I absolutely love and want to live nearby and raise babies around. She is also one of the few friends I have let in close enough to get in a fight with. I can argue with Nancy like I do my sisters. I think that means we're close. She loves me despite the fact that my very existence as a mother with a gigantic child should piss her off. I am connected to her babies story in an intimate way as I felt at times that I wished I could give Becca a room in my womb if it would help. Nancy is the strongest person I know- even though she's got more issues than Freud. Freud drowned himself in crack- Nancy goes for ice cream- that's the healthiest alternative I could imagine. She and I bonded before babies- way back when she was cool in seminary and we spent many hours at the Snowhillbert (may it rest in peace). Nancy is the friend I could easily talk to on a daily basis.
Megan Schneider Gambrel. Megan is another good college friend, circa Jessica Garrison. Megan is also awesome- but in the "let's have some wine and laugh at this thing we call life and motherhood." Megan has always been on the same page as me as far as the whole expectations of women thing - she sort of had some plans but ultimately fell into motherhood and doubting herself all the way has become a true stay at home Mom- with every intention of getting a house on the lake and rowing out to the middle to meet me with a glass of wine. Megan is emotional and stoic, stubborn and flexible- she does her own thing and invites you to come along. Megan is the kind of friend you want to be neighbors with.
Let's see- Cliff Landis. Cliff is certifiably insane, but he makes his crazy work for him, dammit. He taught me more about God and life and gay people than media, church and Sunday School had to that point we met in college junior year. He is one of the most selfless selfish people I know. His whole world revolves around him, but at the same time he really wants you to follow your dreams and make them come true. And you have no excuse if you aren't working toward it. Cliff taught me that people who are "different" are really the best friends you'll ever find.
Amanda Landis-Hanna. Cliff's sister- she is also certifiably insane, but the more socially acceptable kind. She makes type A look like type Z and tells the hairs on your head which way to go. She also embraces you and your family and cooks for you even with a newborn sleeping or waking 5 feet away. She is worried about her abilities as a mother- but has been a mother all along- she is worried about her abilities as a professional vet but she is more professional and personal than even she can stand sometimes. She also constantly asks if Bruno wants to get his teeth cleaned. And maybe in 5 years we'll wish we had done it.
Tasha Rothwell. She is my soul mate in the friendship world. Our lives look polarly opposite- but really we are just an example of similar souls making a series of different choices. She embraces the passion and fear that comes with dreams. She and I share as much of a childhood as military brats can. She makes me think and dream and sometimes I wonder if I'm still all that interesting- not because she makes me feel that way, but because she is glowing so brightly- even with struggles she glows. She is one of the few friends my Grandmother remembers.
Ashley Brien. Speaking of glowing. Ashley is a friend I don't keep in close contact- but she is youth and spirit personified. I took her to a butterfly conservatory and I literally saw wonder erupting from her being. Ashley taught me joy and wonder.
OK- sisters- I'll save you for after sister weekend.
Christine- you got your blog.
Kelly Stewart- I talked about you- but a short shout out- you're like the pick-up close friend. The kind of friend I met twenty seconds ago and I'm convinced in twenty more seconds we're like soul mates friends.
hmmm...Katy Hinman. The most well-adjusted person I know. By far. One of the coolest people I know. Katy can be taken to any party, any crowd, any group and needs no help. She's so freakin sufficient you are in awe that she's your friend- because surely she can hang out with cooler people than you.
Erin Miller. She's another friend I haven't been as good about keeping in touch with. But suffice it to say that she is so intensely relational that it often gets her into deep trouble- and when it doesn't- it's very very rewarding. I still remember our trip to St Louis - it was so fun, and I remember driving early in the morning to witness the sunrise and the frozen ground. It was beautiful.
hmm- I'm sure I've left out glaring things- like my husband- but when he writes me a love letter- he'll get his shout-out.
otherwise - if i forgot you- i suck and i wont do it again. and family didn't count.
People pleasing time is over. Book closed. Door shut. It's all about me again.
(by the way today was a good day, Hunter took a 2.5 hr nap, the movers came and Grandmother got new hearing aids- but let's get back to the shout outs.)
Jessica Elizabeth Kimbrough Wood Garrison. She is one of my best friends who is fiercely loyal. She and I met when I went across the hall from my freshman dorm to find someone with a TV so I could check the weather channel and see how my parents were faring in the latest hurricane. 30 minutes later I had an instant friend, but she realized she didn't have a TV. She is also OCD and has the ability to get more done than the energizer bunny, all while napping when the kids nap and making frequent trips home and beyond. I used to write smiley faces on her Chemistry notes in class just to watch her rewrite the whole page again without the unwanted accessory. She was insane enough to fly by herself to DC to visit me in her first trimester with a 3 yr old and 1 yr old. And we had a great time. She is the stay-at-home-super-mom that the rest of us decide doesn't really exist- except she does- and she likes to monogram, too. She loves people completely- like a fierce mother hen- and she's real southern about it too. She lets you know how she feels about things but dips it in sugar and honey before she forces it down your throat. She forgave me for many sins and holds me to my bond of friendship no matter how slack I might get. I love her- even if she specifically asked for this shout-out.
Nancy Speas Hill. I already changed my blog design to suit her geriatric eyeball needs. She has been grateful. She is someone that I absolutely love and want to live nearby and raise babies around. She is also one of the few friends I have let in close enough to get in a fight with. I can argue with Nancy like I do my sisters. I think that means we're close. She loves me despite the fact that my very existence as a mother with a gigantic child should piss her off. I am connected to her babies story in an intimate way as I felt at times that I wished I could give Becca a room in my womb if it would help. Nancy is the strongest person I know- even though she's got more issues than Freud. Freud drowned himself in crack- Nancy goes for ice cream- that's the healthiest alternative I could imagine. She and I bonded before babies- way back when she was cool in seminary and we spent many hours at the Snowhillbert (may it rest in peace). Nancy is the friend I could easily talk to on a daily basis.
Megan Schneider Gambrel. Megan is another good college friend, circa Jessica Garrison. Megan is also awesome- but in the "let's have some wine and laugh at this thing we call life and motherhood." Megan has always been on the same page as me as far as the whole expectations of women thing - she sort of had some plans but ultimately fell into motherhood and doubting herself all the way has become a true stay at home Mom- with every intention of getting a house on the lake and rowing out to the middle to meet me with a glass of wine. Megan is emotional and stoic, stubborn and flexible- she does her own thing and invites you to come along. Megan is the kind of friend you want to be neighbors with.
Let's see- Cliff Landis. Cliff is certifiably insane, but he makes his crazy work for him, dammit. He taught me more about God and life and gay people than media, church and Sunday School had to that point we met in college junior year. He is one of the most selfless selfish people I know. His whole world revolves around him, but at the same time he really wants you to follow your dreams and make them come true. And you have no excuse if you aren't working toward it. Cliff taught me that people who are "different" are really the best friends you'll ever find.
Amanda Landis-Hanna. Cliff's sister- she is also certifiably insane, but the more socially acceptable kind. She makes type A look like type Z and tells the hairs on your head which way to go. She also embraces you and your family and cooks for you even with a newborn sleeping or waking 5 feet away. She is worried about her abilities as a mother- but has been a mother all along- she is worried about her abilities as a professional vet but she is more professional and personal than even she can stand sometimes. She also constantly asks if Bruno wants to get his teeth cleaned. And maybe in 5 years we'll wish we had done it.
Tasha Rothwell. She is my soul mate in the friendship world. Our lives look polarly opposite- but really we are just an example of similar souls making a series of different choices. She embraces the passion and fear that comes with dreams. She and I share as much of a childhood as military brats can. She makes me think and dream and sometimes I wonder if I'm still all that interesting- not because she makes me feel that way, but because she is glowing so brightly- even with struggles she glows. She is one of the few friends my Grandmother remembers.
Ashley Brien. Speaking of glowing. Ashley is a friend I don't keep in close contact- but she is youth and spirit personified. I took her to a butterfly conservatory and I literally saw wonder erupting from her being. Ashley taught me joy and wonder.
OK- sisters- I'll save you for after sister weekend.
Christine- you got your blog.
Kelly Stewart- I talked about you- but a short shout out- you're like the pick-up close friend. The kind of friend I met twenty seconds ago and I'm convinced in twenty more seconds we're like soul mates friends.
hmmm...Katy Hinman. The most well-adjusted person I know. By far. One of the coolest people I know. Katy can be taken to any party, any crowd, any group and needs no help. She's so freakin sufficient you are in awe that she's your friend- because surely she can hang out with cooler people than you.
Erin Miller. She's another friend I haven't been as good about keeping in touch with. But suffice it to say that she is so intensely relational that it often gets her into deep trouble- and when it doesn't- it's very very rewarding. I still remember our trip to St Louis - it was so fun, and I remember driving early in the morning to witness the sunrise and the frozen ground. It was beautiful.
hmm- I'm sure I've left out glaring things- like my husband- but when he writes me a love letter- he'll get his shout-out.
otherwise - if i forgot you- i suck and i wont do it again. and family didn't count.
People pleasing time is over. Book closed. Door shut. It's all about me again.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Christina
So I met a new friend the other day at the church softball game (which I did not watch). She's friends with my sister, my mother loves her, and she's going to seminary in the fall. We're now Facebook friends and she went to the movie with us last night (the movie btw was ok- I really wish they had cast someone other than Nicholas Cage- none of the romances were believable- oh well). Back to Christina- She's hilarious in the snarky cool like that way- and so of course when she joked that she was real hurt that I didn't mention her in my blog, I decided I would dedicate this blog to her. : ) I'm all about people pleasing- changing my blog design so my apparently blind best friend can read it and now name-dropping for a new friend.
Today went better. Hunter decided to return to his body and evict the demon that possessed him over the past three days. I far prefer Hunter to the crazy child that visited with us. SO- I'm glad he's back. He even slept in til 8 today- and since it was "my day" to get up with him- that was oh so very nice. We went swimming- a conquered temporary fear for Hunter (the demon child decided to be traumatized for no reason) so with Hunter back- we convinced him swimming was for the cool kids. Bath time - also a temporary fear induced by crazy child- was much better tonight. Think of today as a full day of successful therapy. Rock therapy actually. My mother convinced Hunter to do everything through the cunning use of rocks. No kidding. She's a little crazy awesome with creative methods of parenting. When Hunter was about to crawl out of my arms up the pool wall- Mom dashed to the yard to grab rocks and proceeded to thoroughly entertain and distract my son from his pretend fears by throwing and fetching the rocks from the bottom of the pool. Soon Hunter was throwing the rocks and my mother and sister took turns getting them and swimming between my legs to surface triumphantly with the victorious pebbles. Hunter was nipple-deep in the water before the end of the pool-time and actually agreed that the pool was fun. He didn't want to learn to float, but he thought it was cool that all of us could "sleep" face up on the pool water.
Again- with the bath- Hunter wouldn't sit down- so Mom grabbed a rock- and basically the same therapy worked. 20 minutes later and we were convincing Hunter bath time was over and he needed to brush his teeth. All these baby/toddler books leave out one very important tool you need: family. Help is so nice. Even though I'm ready to go home and a little stir-crazy here- it is so good to be with family. I really wish we lived closer.
So there ya go. Tomorrow we are expecting a tropical depression of some sort to head our way, the truck full of Grandmother's stuff, Grandmother's new hearing aids, and an ENT appt to boot. And Jessa's driving to Auburn for a wedding. I'm really going to miss her. I'll talk more about that later. Oh- and correction- Memaush did not coin the phrase "y'all stay up all night"- it was Grandmother! And now my Dad says it on occasion. Memaush would say before retiring to bed:
"It's been real."
Today went better. Hunter decided to return to his body and evict the demon that possessed him over the past three days. I far prefer Hunter to the crazy child that visited with us. SO- I'm glad he's back. He even slept in til 8 today- and since it was "my day" to get up with him- that was oh so very nice. We went swimming- a conquered temporary fear for Hunter (the demon child decided to be traumatized for no reason) so with Hunter back- we convinced him swimming was for the cool kids. Bath time - also a temporary fear induced by crazy child- was much better tonight. Think of today as a full day of successful therapy. Rock therapy actually. My mother convinced Hunter to do everything through the cunning use of rocks. No kidding. She's a little crazy awesome with creative methods of parenting. When Hunter was about to crawl out of my arms up the pool wall- Mom dashed to the yard to grab rocks and proceeded to thoroughly entertain and distract my son from his pretend fears by throwing and fetching the rocks from the bottom of the pool. Soon Hunter was throwing the rocks and my mother and sister took turns getting them and swimming between my legs to surface triumphantly with the victorious pebbles. Hunter was nipple-deep in the water before the end of the pool-time and actually agreed that the pool was fun. He didn't want to learn to float, but he thought it was cool that all of us could "sleep" face up on the pool water.
Again- with the bath- Hunter wouldn't sit down- so Mom grabbed a rock- and basically the same therapy worked. 20 minutes later and we were convincing Hunter bath time was over and he needed to brush his teeth. All these baby/toddler books leave out one very important tool you need: family. Help is so nice. Even though I'm ready to go home and a little stir-crazy here- it is so good to be with family. I really wish we lived closer.
So there ya go. Tomorrow we are expecting a tropical depression of some sort to head our way, the truck full of Grandmother's stuff, Grandmother's new hearing aids, and an ENT appt to boot. And Jessa's driving to Auburn for a wedding. I'm really going to miss her. I'll talk more about that later. Oh- and correction- Memaush did not coin the phrase "y'all stay up all night"- it was Grandmother! And now my Dad says it on occasion. Memaush would say before retiring to bed:
"It's been real."
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
10 minute nap
Hunter is playing in his crib. The reason he is not napping: he slept a grand total of 10 minutes in the car. So naturally, it is preposterous to assume he would need futher sleep. I'm not sure why he remembers that he napped or feels he doesn't need additional sleep- but it's fine with me to leave him playing in his crib.
We're still in Florida. Jason is home with the dog and houseguests. My soul is floating somewhere above the gulf coast and wondering what to do with life. I feel like such a tool, because ultimately my thoughts keep resting back on "what am I going to do?" I'm presently concerned with others, but eternally concerned with myself it seems. Whatever- at least I own it. I keep thinking a week-long vacation to the beach would be nice- by myself. I feel bad for thinking that. I really do. But think it I do.
Tonight Jessa and I have a date to the movies- we're going to see the Sorceror's Apprentice - from what I hear it is fabulously mindless entertainment. Just what we need. Well, maybe not what we need so much as what we want. And sometimes what you want can be a little of what you need.
Usually being in Florida fills me with a sense of peace or prickles of joy, seeing water makes me happy... it seems this time the spell is broken. Sad.
The doctor called back to schedule Grandmother's appointment... September 16th. That's the earliest. Seriously. So now I need to call her old doctor and get her more Aricept sent down here so she can last. Good thing she doesn't take something more serious! How elderly people exist without family is beyond me.
We're still in Florida. Jason is home with the dog and houseguests. My soul is floating somewhere above the gulf coast and wondering what to do with life. I feel like such a tool, because ultimately my thoughts keep resting back on "what am I going to do?" I'm presently concerned with others, but eternally concerned with myself it seems. Whatever- at least I own it. I keep thinking a week-long vacation to the beach would be nice- by myself. I feel bad for thinking that. I really do. But think it I do.
Tonight Jessa and I have a date to the movies- we're going to see the Sorceror's Apprentice - from what I hear it is fabulously mindless entertainment. Just what we need. Well, maybe not what we need so much as what we want. And sometimes what you want can be a little of what you need.
Usually being in Florida fills me with a sense of peace or prickles of joy, seeing water makes me happy... it seems this time the spell is broken. Sad.
The doctor called back to schedule Grandmother's appointment... September 16th. That's the earliest. Seriously. So now I need to call her old doctor and get her more Aricept sent down here so she can last. Good thing she doesn't take something more serious! How elderly people exist without family is beyond me.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Happy Birthday!
Today is Mikey's birthday, I thought he was 23, but turns out he's 24. It's funny, we live kind of close to most of Jason's family, but we don't see them as often as we should considering the distance.
Today was a long day, Hunter was whiney to say the least. I don't have a huge amount of energy left. So I'll leave it at that.
Today was a long day, Hunter was whiney to say the least. I don't have a huge amount of energy left. So I'll leave it at that.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Sunday Morning
I sent Hunter with my Mom to church (she's teaching Sunday School) so he can go to childcare and we can get ready for "big church." Another day with the family in veiled anxiety. No real source but trying to read and respond to everyone's emotions. I made a snarky remark to my Dad this morning when Grandmother asked if he slept well and he replied that he did- then he failed to reciprocate with some inquiry into her night's sleep- which I pointed out. I don't think Dad appreciated that. I wouldn't have either, but it seems I'm on the super defense for Grandmother- even though I'm complaining and frustrated about her. Whatever. I make no sense.
So right now I'm thinking very seriously about showering, and sort of dreading going to church. It's the last Sunday for the pastor that has been at my home church for a long time, and in ministry for over 60 years. He is a good man, but there are a handful of reasons why he frustrates the bejeesus out of me. (just felt like including that fun word, bejeesus) SO at this "last Sunday" when tears and platitudes will abound, I will be standing in some corner with my snarky attitude trying to bite my lip. I won't embarrass anyone, I'll just fester a little.
You know, I was never good at sucking up. I don't know quite what bothers me most about it- but false praise has always gotten me itchy. I wasn't the teacher's pet unless it was a really good teacher. I guess I feel it takes away from true and genuine praise that is due to true and genuine people. The part that is most annoying is that those who are true and genuine don't seek praise, therefore often don't get it, and the jerks that thrive on platitudes get it through fake smiles all day long. But- I will say- that's not always true. Good people get praise, jerks can tell if it's fake and some people really like the jerks (which is the pinnacle of annoying). Oh lord- I am so raving bitterness today. I need to go get ready for church- and try to be good and genuine. and not bitter. : )
ok bye.
So right now I'm thinking very seriously about showering, and sort of dreading going to church. It's the last Sunday for the pastor that has been at my home church for a long time, and in ministry for over 60 years. He is a good man, but there are a handful of reasons why he frustrates the bejeesus out of me. (just felt like including that fun word, bejeesus) SO at this "last Sunday" when tears and platitudes will abound, I will be standing in some corner with my snarky attitude trying to bite my lip. I won't embarrass anyone, I'll just fester a little.
You know, I was never good at sucking up. I don't know quite what bothers me most about it- but false praise has always gotten me itchy. I wasn't the teacher's pet unless it was a really good teacher. I guess I feel it takes away from true and genuine praise that is due to true and genuine people. The part that is most annoying is that those who are true and genuine don't seek praise, therefore often don't get it, and the jerks that thrive on platitudes get it through fake smiles all day long. But- I will say- that's not always true. Good people get praise, jerks can tell if it's fake and some people really like the jerks (which is the pinnacle of annoying). Oh lord- I am so raving bitterness today. I need to go get ready for church- and try to be good and genuine. and not bitter. : )
ok bye.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Long Haul
I'm in the bath tub, drinking rum and coke and working offline because my computer can't reach the unsecured wireless we've been tapping into on this side of the house. I feel sort of like this is my little hiatus. I'm getting a little grumpy and it was time for me to step away. I'm deciding that I should probably stay here for a little bit longer because Grandmother's things won't arrive until wed/thurs which means her apt won't be ready until at least fri/sat- and we're supposed to go home on Saturday. I feel like I would be leaving Mom and Dad in a chaotic moment if I left then. So I'll probably stay. This is a good idea. But I'm feeling homesick already- not that I know what I'm going to do with myself when I get home... I'm feeling sort of like I'm trying to please everyone- and instead of feeling like I'm pleasing no one or not succeeding, I'm feeling like it's really not affecting anyone but me. It would only affect them if I stopped, and sometimes that's all I want to do. Like this little hiatus to the bath tub. I'm feeling guilty by sitting here doing just this. tight gut guilty. But I might start getting bitchy if I don't take the break.
I'm not even sure exactly what is so difficult about all this or what is causing me to continue to feel on edge, but it is- and even the bath tub and rum isn't making it go away. Yeah, that's about all I have to say.
I'm not even sure exactly what is so difficult about all this or what is causing me to continue to feel on edge, but it is- and even the bath tub and rum isn't making it go away. Yeah, that's about all I have to say.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
y'all stay up all night
My Memaush would say this before going to bed once she announced she was going to bed- but we could stay up all night. : ) It's kind of fitting for now. We are now in the routine of putting Hunter to bed, doing some activity, putting Grandmother to bed and then feeling somehow that we're staying up all night- catching up with husbands and friends and each other on what we accomplished that day.
We watched pride and prejudice with kiera neightly- it was very good (Of course I've never read the book, so don't yell if it didn't do it justice). I felt the chemistry between elizabeth and the Mr Darcy character was pretty good- and I love me some good chemistry on screen. It doesn't help that my husband is not with me in Florida- so there's no one to cuddle with.
SO I'm still tired but I have an appointment with the audiologist (another one) tomorrow to bring Grandmother to get fitted for a new hearing aid. I'm super excited- in a geeky way. I'm going to make an appointment with the ENT and find her a gerontologist. I may as well do some of the footwork while I'm standing around here. I guess I want to set her up well, and start Mom and Dad on the right foot. I still don't know what it's going to look like when I get home and my job is done. I'm keeping busy in the meantime and basically waiting to be home with Jason for the processing to continue.
Another random thing about pride and prejudice. It seems in the "old days" saying what was on your mind was basically a lowly and despicable thing- especially if you were a woman, real faux pas. The chemistry between Darcy and Elizabeth was the willingness of both to say what they meant - sort of- so it worked for them, the demise (then it worked out) of Jane's relationship was because neither actually said what they meant, and the mean old aunt character was a true bitch primarily because her status allowed her to say what she meant. At first I thought all of this politeness and propriety was so annoyingly evasive and preventing any real plot movement. Then I realized that in a very similar way- just with a different set of rules- we deal with human interaction and people not saying what they really mean or saying just that without any tact. I will say I think I will always prefer direct over covert simply because I can know exactly how to feel and respond. SO that's my response to the weirdness of the old days when women didn't always get to marry for love- which I actually have a theory on that. Divorce is so high now because men and women expect to have love like in the love stories - but don't realize it was a rarity when most the stories were written - and true love often takes work after the story happens- if you were so lucky to have that sweeping moment. Which I believe every one should be so lucky.
oh lord- i make no sense.
I'm going to bed - y'all stay up all night.
We watched pride and prejudice with kiera neightly- it was very good (Of course I've never read the book, so don't yell if it didn't do it justice). I felt the chemistry between elizabeth and the Mr Darcy character was pretty good- and I love me some good chemistry on screen. It doesn't help that my husband is not with me in Florida- so there's no one to cuddle with.
SO I'm still tired but I have an appointment with the audiologist (another one) tomorrow to bring Grandmother to get fitted for a new hearing aid. I'm super excited- in a geeky way. I'm going to make an appointment with the ENT and find her a gerontologist. I may as well do some of the footwork while I'm standing around here. I guess I want to set her up well, and start Mom and Dad on the right foot. I still don't know what it's going to look like when I get home and my job is done. I'm keeping busy in the meantime and basically waiting to be home with Jason for the processing to continue.
Another random thing about pride and prejudice. It seems in the "old days" saying what was on your mind was basically a lowly and despicable thing- especially if you were a woman, real faux pas. The chemistry between Darcy and Elizabeth was the willingness of both to say what they meant - sort of- so it worked for them, the demise (then it worked out) of Jane's relationship was because neither actually said what they meant, and the mean old aunt character was a true bitch primarily because her status allowed her to say what she meant. At first I thought all of this politeness and propriety was so annoyingly evasive and preventing any real plot movement. Then I realized that in a very similar way- just with a different set of rules- we deal with human interaction and people not saying what they really mean or saying just that without any tact. I will say I think I will always prefer direct over covert simply because I can know exactly how to feel and respond. SO that's my response to the weirdness of the old days when women didn't always get to marry for love- which I actually have a theory on that. Divorce is so high now because men and women expect to have love like in the love stories - but don't realize it was a rarity when most the stories were written - and true love often takes work after the story happens- if you were so lucky to have that sweeping moment. Which I believe every one should be so lucky.
oh lord- i make no sense.
I'm going to bed - y'all stay up all night.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Here We Go!
Something I forgot to mention yesterday, Jessa, Grandmother, Hunter and I flew on a plane from DC to Florida. This was quite an accomplishment, but my favorite part (besides having the entire row to ourselves) was when the plane lifted off- I turned and said to Hunter "Here we go!" then I turned to look at Jessa across the aisle only to witness her turning to Grandmother and saying in the exact same sing-song way, "here we go!" It's no question we are sisters. And work as a team we must- she has been awesome fixing dinner, cleaning dishes, entertaining Hunter or Grandmother- etc. Whatever duty calls, Jessa is on it.
This morning Grandmother woke up at 530am when I unfortunately found myself awake and having to go to the bathroom (I think I was nervous about being responsible for Hunter and Grandmother or something)- and Grandmother was confused and scared- not sure what was going on. I had a raging headache and basically told everyone to go to bed- surely it would be better in a couple hours. And it was. Surprisingly. Grandmother woke up, got ready and came out smiling and ready to start the day. Whew.
Jessa had a doctor's appt and I had a headache- so my super duper Grandmother at nearly 88- got down on the floor and played with my nearly 2 year old son and entertained him while I dozed off on the couch. Miracles.
One last thing to share about Grandmother moments: last night Hunter wanted "Gigi" to read him Goodnight Moon. Precious. She read through it- pointing out pictures in the book, adding her own flair and Hunter was participating the whole time. It was kind of amazing- and exactly how life with the elderly should be- everyone in the same place, hanging out and participating in life together.
SO- my stomach is still in knots and my sleep is still interrupted and my soul is still restless. I'm not relaxed yet- not by a long shot. I'm getting there though- I will get there. I don't think I've ever had this much trouble sleeping though- it is very unlike me. Kind of not helpful. Oh well. Things are good and slowly my body will unwind itself from this increasingly taut spinning wheel.
This morning Grandmother woke up at 530am when I unfortunately found myself awake and having to go to the bathroom (I think I was nervous about being responsible for Hunter and Grandmother or something)- and Grandmother was confused and scared- not sure what was going on. I had a raging headache and basically told everyone to go to bed- surely it would be better in a couple hours. And it was. Surprisingly. Grandmother woke up, got ready and came out smiling and ready to start the day. Whew.
Jessa had a doctor's appt and I had a headache- so my super duper Grandmother at nearly 88- got down on the floor and played with my nearly 2 year old son and entertained him while I dozed off on the couch. Miracles.
One last thing to share about Grandmother moments: last night Hunter wanted "Gigi" to read him Goodnight Moon. Precious. She read through it- pointing out pictures in the book, adding her own flair and Hunter was participating the whole time. It was kind of amazing- and exactly how life with the elderly should be- everyone in the same place, hanging out and participating in life together.
SO- my stomach is still in knots and my sleep is still interrupted and my soul is still restless. I'm not relaxed yet- not by a long shot. I'm getting there though- I will get there. I don't think I've ever had this much trouble sleeping though- it is very unlike me. Kind of not helpful. Oh well. Things are good and slowly my body will unwind itself from this increasingly taut spinning wheel.
Monday, July 12, 2010
What would be good news?
This is the question that was posed by our new pastor during the prayer time of our worship service last night. He asked it in a way that turned into a sort of "prayers of the people" time. It was a great thought provoking question, and so wzs Jason's sermon... Here is what I had in mind, although I didn't brave the crowd and speak it out loud: Good news would be that my Grandmother feels safe and not alone in her new home. We have yet to find out whether this good news is possible, but I am hopeful and fearful all at the same time.
We have been packing/pitching/sorting/ etc this weekend- which is why I haven't written. I am beyond exhausted. We just arrived a few hours ago here to Florida. We're here at my parents house until they arrive, until the things arrive, until the apartment is ready. Then Grandmother moves into her new home.
Grandmother dosed off a little bit ago (she's dosing again) and the old demon of confusion reared its ugly head again- it's fascinating how recognizable it is. The same puzzled look, the same blank feel- as if someone ran into my Grandmother's brain and hit delete on the last 6 months- in one swift move. I sat down and explained to Grandmother what was happening, where she was and where she was going. Understanding started to creep back- but the confusion monster left another scar. It made me remember, realize that we are not even close to being done with this transition. The work has only begun.
So keep praying. Pray for me. Pray for my parents. Pray most of all for my Grandmother- that she gets good news: she is safe and not alone, she is home and not confused. I'll try to get back on track with the blog now.
We have been packing/pitching/sorting/ etc this weekend- which is why I haven't written. I am beyond exhausted. We just arrived a few hours ago here to Florida. We're here at my parents house until they arrive, until the things arrive, until the apartment is ready. Then Grandmother moves into her new home.
Grandmother dosed off a little bit ago (she's dosing again) and the old demon of confusion reared its ugly head again- it's fascinating how recognizable it is. The same puzzled look, the same blank feel- as if someone ran into my Grandmother's brain and hit delete on the last 6 months- in one swift move. I sat down and explained to Grandmother what was happening, where she was and where she was going. Understanding started to creep back- but the confusion monster left another scar. It made me remember, realize that we are not even close to being done with this transition. The work has only begun.
So keep praying. Pray for me. Pray for my parents. Pray most of all for my Grandmother- that she gets good news: she is safe and not alone, she is home and not confused. I'll try to get back on track with the blog now.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Fearless Leader
So- day 1 of family packing up Grandmother- kind of awesome. Everyone is in a good mood- I played "leader" and everyone did what I said (to an extent)! I am so exhausted so I will say 2 things: I love my husband, I love my family.
Jessa texted me this: "You were a great fearless leader today! I love you."
It's all I needed. : )
Jessa texted me this: "You were a great fearless leader today! I love you."
It's all I needed. : )
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Ironing is not Zen
So I decided to iron some things that desperately needed it. To give you an idea of how often I iron- let's just say I'm not even sure if the iron was on most of the time and the only way I knew how to turn it off was to unplug it, and maybe that's a safety feature.
I thought it could be zen. But it didn't even get the wrinkles well enough (again, most likely a user issue)... so annoying.
Hunter is now awake from his nap. He slept 1hr 15 minutes. This was cool 2 months ago but lately he's been spoiling me with 2 hr naps. SO I'm bummed. Especially after my poor ironing experience.
Funny thing that I forgot to mention a few days ago. When my Grandmother and I went to get our nails done - the lady asked me if I wanted my eyebrows waxed. I said no thank you. 20 minutes later a different employee asks if I want my eyebrows waxed. Again, no thank you- but now I'm sufficiently self-conscious about my bushy eyebrows... and I didn't even think they were that bad! However- upon closer reflection- both employees had very little actual eyebrow and made up for it with a pencil. So I think maybe it's just a fetish with them and I'm happy to still own my full dark brows.
ok- need to get the child.
My parents and sister arrive tonight and we get to work tomorrow on Grandmother's apt. Wow.
I thought it could be zen. But it didn't even get the wrinkles well enough (again, most likely a user issue)... so annoying.
Hunter is now awake from his nap. He slept 1hr 15 minutes. This was cool 2 months ago but lately he's been spoiling me with 2 hr naps. SO I'm bummed. Especially after my poor ironing experience.
Funny thing that I forgot to mention a few days ago. When my Grandmother and I went to get our nails done - the lady asked me if I wanted my eyebrows waxed. I said no thank you. 20 minutes later a different employee asks if I want my eyebrows waxed. Again, no thank you- but now I'm sufficiently self-conscious about my bushy eyebrows... and I didn't even think they were that bad! However- upon closer reflection- both employees had very little actual eyebrow and made up for it with a pencil. So I think maybe it's just a fetish with them and I'm happy to still own my full dark brows.
ok- need to get the child.
My parents and sister arrive tonight and we get to work tomorrow on Grandmother's apt. Wow.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Patience
Is not something I have a huge amount of. I consider myself an average patience person in the grand scale of things. I don't honk my horn unless it really is necessary, I can handle waiting in line. I don't flick people off who cut me off in traffic..(I might give them a dirty look)... point is- I'm not horribly impatient. but then again maybe I am.
I am sick of waiting. I was talking to my sister about searching for that calling and feeing a little lost in the transition of Grandmother's move. She wisely told me she knew that there was something out there and that I would find it and I had gifts to offer the world. But, she used a word I don't like so much: wait. I shouldn't rush into the next suitor just because I'm looking, but I should wait and see where I am lead. Well that's all fine and good but I feel like I have been waiting forever. I guess I still have some part of me that does believe that there is ONE BIG THING that you I can do if I find it and do it. I say that I believe more in a cycle of callings. This would look more like a revolving door of purpose - but not just spinning to spin- you work your gifts in one place and then you transition out of that and work your magic somewhere else. In it God is calling and guiding you along. Here's what I have issues with on that theory (although I still stand by it)- it feels like I just cycle and never fulfill- at least not for any length of time. In my perspective- this cycle of calling could contain as few as 3-7 callings in one lifetime or as many as 2 dozen. I feel like I'm going for the record of a gajillion. I don't feel like I'm soaring in any one thing. I want to do some big things- and that doesn't have to mean it's big in the world's standards- but big in my standards - fully satisfied- passionate and eager to follow- such that it is hard to let go and move on to another call. The way I journey this cycle it's like I can't wait to hop on to the next train. Except for this time- I really would take care of Grandmother as long as it takes- except I really am being called away. I can't be the one that does it. I have a child- want another child- my husband's job could move us away- this is not what Grandmother needs.
So I'm "waiting and seeing" about a lot of things- calling, how Grandmother does in the new place, how quickly I can get pregnant, how much it changes my life, how we can manage on a smaller income, our basement wall, how long it takes my family to live closer together.....
I'm a little done with waiting. I want something. and i want it now.
I am sick of waiting. I was talking to my sister about searching for that calling and feeing a little lost in the transition of Grandmother's move. She wisely told me she knew that there was something out there and that I would find it and I had gifts to offer the world. But, she used a word I don't like so much: wait. I shouldn't rush into the next suitor just because I'm looking, but I should wait and see where I am lead. Well that's all fine and good but I feel like I have been waiting forever. I guess I still have some part of me that does believe that there is ONE BIG THING that you I can do if I find it and do it. I say that I believe more in a cycle of callings. This would look more like a revolving door of purpose - but not just spinning to spin- you work your gifts in one place and then you transition out of that and work your magic somewhere else. In it God is calling and guiding you along. Here's what I have issues with on that theory (although I still stand by it)- it feels like I just cycle and never fulfill- at least not for any length of time. In my perspective- this cycle of calling could contain as few as 3-7 callings in one lifetime or as many as 2 dozen. I feel like I'm going for the record of a gajillion. I don't feel like I'm soaring in any one thing. I want to do some big things- and that doesn't have to mean it's big in the world's standards- but big in my standards - fully satisfied- passionate and eager to follow- such that it is hard to let go and move on to another call. The way I journey this cycle it's like I can't wait to hop on to the next train. Except for this time- I really would take care of Grandmother as long as it takes- except I really am being called away. I can't be the one that does it. I have a child- want another child- my husband's job could move us away- this is not what Grandmother needs.
So I'm "waiting and seeing" about a lot of things- calling, how Grandmother does in the new place, how quickly I can get pregnant, how much it changes my life, how we can manage on a smaller income, our basement wall, how long it takes my family to live closer together.....
I'm a little done with waiting. I want something. and i want it now.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Hunter is napping, people are cleaning, I am... waiting
Yes. I am writing my blog while waiting for an epiphany. Last night I had some ideas and went to search on some sites for some things for some time. Now I'm some kind of tired.
Let's just put it out there- I'm not a high energy gal. So naturally, I tend to underestimate myself and/or not go for the stars if you will. So last night I decided to shoot at least for a high flying kite. I put some bait out there, and we'll see what happens. In the meantime- just having made up a plan is helpful. It doesn't necessarily have to work or require a lot of execution- but it's keeping me sane. I also am acting less grr towards Jason. I'll let you know how it goes.
I will admit that right now there are people cleaning my house. People I am paying to clean while I sit on my ass and write a blog. This still stings my soul a little bit to admit. But I will make my defense: it is my therapy. It's cheaper and saves a lot of trauma. So there. I'm acting like a spoiled brat who pays for someone to clean when she is looking for supplementary jobs so that she can keep up this standard of living. I mean seriously- who am I? But there you go- I gave my defense.
And poor Bruno is outside in the 100 degree heat (he does have the shed he can lie in) because I don't want him attacking the cleaning ladies. Not that he would. But Bruno's presence is not conducive to cleanliness. Ever.
And so Jessa told me a friend of hers was reading my blog because he's bored at work (ahem- hey there) and I'm strangely honored but also a little concerned about what I'm putting out there for the world to see. Not that I mind people reading about this- but more along the lines of- do people really connect with this and/or care? In this case- a recent college grad- male. Probably doesn't so much relate to PMS. (thank your lucky stars buddy) However- it did make me think about the fact that I did want this to be a two-part challenge. The 1st part being to work through my grief and daily ups and downs after a crazy fall, the 2nd part- to work on the craft/art/method- (how do you say that without sounding so pretentious?) of writing.
So I think part 1 has been a roaring success- I certainly have processed out loud lots of nicely hard things, and joyous things. Part 2 I am totally denying. Am I just too afraid to put myself out there? Am I afraid of sounding too "writer" ish? You know the type- those blogs that wax eloquent every day or at least often enough. It's a little obnoxious. Like, really, no one can pull that much polished profundity out their ass daily. (I will say, that last sentence just tickled my heart. : ))
SOOOO- I guess I need to step it up. Any requests? How shall I exercise my "writing" muscles? I'm not great at fiction but I can play with it. I can delve into theology and see how many people I offend. I can have a 5 second "deep thoughts" corner in which I put polished profundity. (Is profundity a word? I think so.) I can practice grammar in sentences. hmmm. Anyone? Suggestions? Ideas?
Let's just put it out there- I'm not a high energy gal. So naturally, I tend to underestimate myself and/or not go for the stars if you will. So last night I decided to shoot at least for a high flying kite. I put some bait out there, and we'll see what happens. In the meantime- just having made up a plan is helpful. It doesn't necessarily have to work or require a lot of execution- but it's keeping me sane. I also am acting less grr towards Jason. I'll let you know how it goes.
I will admit that right now there are people cleaning my house. People I am paying to clean while I sit on my ass and write a blog. This still stings my soul a little bit to admit. But I will make my defense: it is my therapy. It's cheaper and saves a lot of trauma. So there. I'm acting like a spoiled brat who pays for someone to clean when she is looking for supplementary jobs so that she can keep up this standard of living. I mean seriously- who am I? But there you go- I gave my defense.
And poor Bruno is outside in the 100 degree heat (he does have the shed he can lie in) because I don't want him attacking the cleaning ladies. Not that he would. But Bruno's presence is not conducive to cleanliness. Ever.
And so Jessa told me a friend of hers was reading my blog because he's bored at work (ahem- hey there) and I'm strangely honored but also a little concerned about what I'm putting out there for the world to see. Not that I mind people reading about this- but more along the lines of- do people really connect with this and/or care? In this case- a recent college grad- male. Probably doesn't so much relate to PMS. (thank your lucky stars buddy) However- it did make me think about the fact that I did want this to be a two-part challenge. The 1st part being to work through my grief and daily ups and downs after a crazy fall, the 2nd part- to work on the craft/art/method- (how do you say that without sounding so pretentious?) of writing.
So I think part 1 has been a roaring success- I certainly have processed out loud lots of nicely hard things, and joyous things. Part 2 I am totally denying. Am I just too afraid to put myself out there? Am I afraid of sounding too "writer" ish? You know the type- those blogs that wax eloquent every day or at least often enough. It's a little obnoxious. Like, really, no one can pull that much polished profundity out their ass daily. (I will say, that last sentence just tickled my heart. : ))
SOOOO- I guess I need to step it up. Any requests? How shall I exercise my "writing" muscles? I'm not great at fiction but I can play with it. I can delve into theology and see how many people I offend. I can have a 5 second "deep thoughts" corner in which I put polished profundity. (Is profundity a word? I think so.) I can practice grammar in sentences. hmmm. Anyone? Suggestions? Ideas?
Monday, July 5, 2010
Grandmother is funny
SO- another Grandmother story. Let's do it in dialogue form...
Me: Ok Grandmother, we've gone through all your books now- that's awesome! I say we just glance through your drawers here and clean them out a little bit. Let's start here- you have about.... (I'm steadily gathering tube after tube of lipstick) a couple dozen tubes of lipstick (I run to the bathroom)- wait- here's a dozen more! You probably don't wear all these colors- do you?
G: Oh goodness, no, I don't need that many!
Me: Ok, let's just see what we have here (I sit on the bed with her)
G: You know, we were supposed to go get our nails done.
(side note- we briefly mentioned this in the morning- which is funny and cool that she remembered)
Me: Oh- yea we did talk about that.
G: Yes, let's go right now!
Me: Um, ok- let's go then!
And we went. And she didn't have to pick out which lipstick to pitch. She's a funny lady.
Me: Ok Grandmother, we've gone through all your books now- that's awesome! I say we just glance through your drawers here and clean them out a little bit. Let's start here- you have about.... (I'm steadily gathering tube after tube of lipstick) a couple dozen tubes of lipstick (I run to the bathroom)- wait- here's a dozen more! You probably don't wear all these colors- do you?
G: Oh goodness, no, I don't need that many!
Me: Ok, let's just see what we have here (I sit on the bed with her)
G: You know, we were supposed to go get our nails done.
(side note- we briefly mentioned this in the morning- which is funny and cool that she remembered)
Me: Oh- yea we did talk about that.
G: Yes, let's go right now!
Me: Um, ok- let's go then!
And we went. And she didn't have to pick out which lipstick to pitch. She's a funny lady.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Fireworks
I'm not watching them, but I can hear them- and I guess that's a little pathetic, but I'm grumpy and not in an awe-inspiring fireworks kind of mood. Too pretty for me right now. I know this mood of grumpiness has become a recurring theme over the last few days- and quite frankly I'm as annoyed with it as you are. But here it is, and I'm working on it. For the most part I do well- but there's something about the end of the day when everything you've been thinking about or avoiding finds a place to rest in the front of your eyes. I guess I'm just a little worried or concerned with too many things. Maybe I shouldn't say too many things- but rather more than my feeble brain and soul can sift through. Hence the grumpy evenings. I didn't get all my thinking done- so it sits and taunts me into introspection, which only makes matters worse.
On the other side of my grumpy mood- I have now a total of 20 large trash bags full of Grandmother's items to donate. Add to that 8-10 boxes (can't remember) in various sizes full of various things- all in the truck. Good job us! Jason was the maid today while I was the donator/inventory girl. Jason joined my camp when he got tired of cleaning and I cleaned a few things when I got tired of inventory-ing. So we got stuff done. Miles to go before we sleep- or at least rest I should say. 2 very different things.
I cried when I packed my Grandfather's (Opa) swim trunks into the donation bag- he was an avid swimmer. It sort of brought him back for a minute as a live memory. I cried when I heard my other Grandfather's (Papaush) voice on a random tape cassette that we found in the midst of operas and books on tape. It has been so long since I've heard his voice that I had almost forgotten it. I still so greatly mourn the loss of each of my Grandparents- Memaush being the most recent and difficult to do. When Grandmother says things like "I feel like I'm attending my own funeral" as I pack up her things and as I go through her stuff and check her pockets and throw them in the bag to be donated- I can't help but agree with her... I do feel like somehow this move makes me feel like she died or is dying. I don't know why- but I also feel responsible for it. I feel like I'm forcing this pre-funeral on her.
I texted my Dad about my grand donations compilation feat today and he responded: great, what charity? I know he cares. i KNOW he cares. But to me- (and my grumpy mood) that text could just as well have said: I don't give a shit. This is what my brain is doing to me. I can't win. I want to feel good about getting so much accomplished with Grandmother- but I feel bad about that because it means I'm working extra hard at moving her away.
And also- Hunter really really loves his Dada. So much that it is making me feel like I could leave for 6 months and he really wouldn't notice. I'm talking- constant choosing Jason over me- crying when Jason leaves, not upset when I leave. Real live favoritism here. And it makes me feel like a bad mother. I mean - the one thing I had going for me- scratched.
So I don't really believe everything I have written here about myself- but there are moments when I let it get too true- and maybe the best way to deal with it is to write it down so it's outside and I can look at it and say- that's stupid, Sarah- you're a good Mom, a good daughter, and a good granddaughter- and you do have callings in your life and you will find the next one- and all will be well...all shall be well, and all manner of things will be well.
On the other side of my grumpy mood- I have now a total of 20 large trash bags full of Grandmother's items to donate. Add to that 8-10 boxes (can't remember) in various sizes full of various things- all in the truck. Good job us! Jason was the maid today while I was the donator/inventory girl. Jason joined my camp when he got tired of cleaning and I cleaned a few things when I got tired of inventory-ing. So we got stuff done. Miles to go before we sleep- or at least rest I should say. 2 very different things.
I cried when I packed my Grandfather's (Opa) swim trunks into the donation bag- he was an avid swimmer. It sort of brought him back for a minute as a live memory. I cried when I heard my other Grandfather's (Papaush) voice on a random tape cassette that we found in the midst of operas and books on tape. It has been so long since I've heard his voice that I had almost forgotten it. I still so greatly mourn the loss of each of my Grandparents- Memaush being the most recent and difficult to do. When Grandmother says things like "I feel like I'm attending my own funeral" as I pack up her things and as I go through her stuff and check her pockets and throw them in the bag to be donated- I can't help but agree with her... I do feel like somehow this move makes me feel like she died or is dying. I don't know why- but I also feel responsible for it. I feel like I'm forcing this pre-funeral on her.
I texted my Dad about my grand donations compilation feat today and he responded: great, what charity? I know he cares. i KNOW he cares. But to me- (and my grumpy mood) that text could just as well have said: I don't give a shit. This is what my brain is doing to me. I can't win. I want to feel good about getting so much accomplished with Grandmother- but I feel bad about that because it means I'm working extra hard at moving her away.
And also- Hunter really really loves his Dada. So much that it is making me feel like I could leave for 6 months and he really wouldn't notice. I'm talking- constant choosing Jason over me- crying when Jason leaves, not upset when I leave. Real live favoritism here. And it makes me feel like a bad mother. I mean - the one thing I had going for me- scratched.
So I don't really believe everything I have written here about myself- but there are moments when I let it get too true- and maybe the best way to deal with it is to write it down so it's outside and I can look at it and say- that's stupid, Sarah- you're a good Mom, a good daughter, and a good granddaughter- and you do have callings in your life and you will find the next one- and all will be well...all shall be well, and all manner of things will be well.
Friday, July 2, 2010
It's a Girl!
My sister's baby is a girl!!! Yea! So now we can look forward to a little girl joining our family around Thanksgiving and Kelly, Jessa and I will appreciate the relationship that little baby girl will have with her sister Lucy. So fun.
My sister (in-law) that is also pregnant- Kelly- is a pooper and not going to find out what the sex of the baby is so that it can be a surprise. Kelly and JR really like that element of surprise... That's all fine and good- but what about what I want? : )
Then there is me. S A R A H. She's clueless- doesn't know what the hell she's up to. She's struggling with purpose and all that cliche stuff that feels especially cliche coming from a woman and mother. I mean seriously- can't we women figure this OUT? Apparently not.
Here's the stream of conscience thought this afternoon before dinner when I decided I couldn't possibly summon up the energy or more aptly- the desire to make dinner. Jason whipped us up a nice little tossed salad with some feta and turkey. Ok- back to thought process- this is all wrapped up in the slow-ass processing of Grandmother's move- which I need to write a little about a couple of things she said today that were hilarious or depressing. So I thought about how my grandmothers both worked- oddly, they were both preschool teachers. Grandmother literally built the program at her church from the ground up. SO- yea. They make me feel like a slacker. Then there's the whole calling fulfillment thing- I feel like I need to be doing something worthwhile. I also feel like I need to be bringing in more "bacon" and then there's the whole resentment that it has to be so hard- I can't just job search and find something that fits nicely and then morph into other things. Jason says (in a nicer way) that I want to have my cake and eat it too.... which makes no sense as a saying because why wouldn't you eat your cake? ANyway- but I kind of resent that- because the sacrifices that I am less inclined to make are not about me as much as they are about my family. I don't want to work all the time because I want to be present at home. I don't want to have a stressful job because it's not worth it to me. I don't want to have to worry endlessly about vacation time (within reason- I know) because I want to see my family and be able to be there when it matters.
SO. Apparently I'm asking too much and I'll never get what I want- which is fine, because as we mentioned before I don't know what I want.
Crap- Hunter is crying. Jason made too much noise doing the dishes.
Random hilarious interaction wih Grandmother today at lunch:
G: My doctor would fuss at me when I was pregnant to gain weight! He said he had to fuss at women to keep their weight down, but I needed to gain! I'm sure the doctor didn't have to fuss at you either way.
Me: Not really- the doctor was pretty happy with my weight gain- I didn't seem to gain too much.
G: You were just right- that's good. Hunter was a big boy when he was born, wasn't he?
Me: 9lbs, 6 ozs!
G: Oh my, that is big!
Me: yea, when I weighed myself after coming home from the hospital, I had lost 17 lbs!
G: Oh my goodness! 17 pounds! Did you gain any of it back?
(this is when I realized Grandmother was probably assuming I had gained 10 pounds for the pregnancy)
Me: no, actually- I kept it off and lost some more, I'm about 5 pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight, but things still don't fit right.
G: I think you're fine just the way you are, you don't need to gain or lose any weight.
Me: Thank you Grandmother.
(At which point I realized that this compliment was coming from a woman who weighed 85 lbs.)
This is the depressing conversation:
The setting: I'm throwing away her dozens of unread, dusty magazines.
G: I feel like I'm attending my own funeral!
(This is perhaps the 7th time she's said this)
Me: Grandmother- we're just tossing old magazines! You're making feel bad!
What Me wanted to say: We're just trashing your crap that you should have tossed a while ago- you're making me feel like shit - for the 7th time!
that's all I got tonight.
My sister (in-law) that is also pregnant- Kelly- is a pooper and not going to find out what the sex of the baby is so that it can be a surprise. Kelly and JR really like that element of surprise... That's all fine and good- but what about what I want? : )
Then there is me. S A R A H. She's clueless- doesn't know what the hell she's up to. She's struggling with purpose and all that cliche stuff that feels especially cliche coming from a woman and mother. I mean seriously- can't we women figure this OUT? Apparently not.
Here's the stream of conscience thought this afternoon before dinner when I decided I couldn't possibly summon up the energy or more aptly- the desire to make dinner. Jason whipped us up a nice little tossed salad with some feta and turkey. Ok- back to thought process- this is all wrapped up in the slow-ass processing of Grandmother's move- which I need to write a little about a couple of things she said today that were hilarious or depressing. So I thought about how my grandmothers both worked- oddly, they were both preschool teachers. Grandmother literally built the program at her church from the ground up. SO- yea. They make me feel like a slacker. Then there's the whole calling fulfillment thing- I feel like I need to be doing something worthwhile. I also feel like I need to be bringing in more "bacon" and then there's the whole resentment that it has to be so hard- I can't just job search and find something that fits nicely and then morph into other things. Jason says (in a nicer way) that I want to have my cake and eat it too.... which makes no sense as a saying because why wouldn't you eat your cake? ANyway- but I kind of resent that- because the sacrifices that I am less inclined to make are not about me as much as they are about my family. I don't want to work all the time because I want to be present at home. I don't want to have a stressful job because it's not worth it to me. I don't want to have to worry endlessly about vacation time (within reason- I know) because I want to see my family and be able to be there when it matters.
SO. Apparently I'm asking too much and I'll never get what I want- which is fine, because as we mentioned before I don't know what I want.
Crap- Hunter is crying. Jason made too much noise doing the dishes.
Random hilarious interaction wih Grandmother today at lunch:
G: My doctor would fuss at me when I was pregnant to gain weight! He said he had to fuss at women to keep their weight down, but I needed to gain! I'm sure the doctor didn't have to fuss at you either way.
Me: Not really- the doctor was pretty happy with my weight gain- I didn't seem to gain too much.
G: You were just right- that's good. Hunter was a big boy when he was born, wasn't he?
Me: 9lbs, 6 ozs!
G: Oh my, that is big!
Me: yea, when I weighed myself after coming home from the hospital, I had lost 17 lbs!
G: Oh my goodness! 17 pounds! Did you gain any of it back?
(this is when I realized Grandmother was probably assuming I had gained 10 pounds for the pregnancy)
Me: no, actually- I kept it off and lost some more, I'm about 5 pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight, but things still don't fit right.
G: I think you're fine just the way you are, you don't need to gain or lose any weight.
Me: Thank you Grandmother.
(At which point I realized that this compliment was coming from a woman who weighed 85 lbs.)
This is the depressing conversation:
The setting: I'm throwing away her dozens of unread, dusty magazines.
G: I feel like I'm attending my own funeral!
(This is perhaps the 7th time she's said this)
Me: Grandmother- we're just tossing old magazines! You're making feel bad!
What Me wanted to say: We're just trashing your crap that you should have tossed a while ago- you're making me feel like shit - for the 7th time!
that's all I got tonight.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Um.
SO- I ate too much dark chocolate, too many goldfish, and my sewing machine konked out on me. So, naturally I watched "League of Their Own" because this used to be my playground, and there's no crying in baseball.
Tomorrow my sister finds out whether she is having a boy or a girl. I'm super pumped! I think it's a boy, mainly because my Mom does and she's kind of always right. I'll let you know!
I'm going to bed now. This counts as my Wednesday post even though it's after midnight. So there.
and i'm done.
Tomorrow my sister finds out whether she is having a boy or a girl. I'm super pumped! I think it's a boy, mainly because my Mom does and she's kind of always right. I'll let you know!
I'm going to bed now. This counts as my Wednesday post even though it's after midnight. So there.
and i'm done.
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