Updates

Okay, so everything is changing at lightspeed right now. Which is ultimately okay, I am just trying to separate out what is good for our family, in regards to Scott's work, and what we just want to do (which is stay put). If I had to narrow down my goals in life to one tagline, it would be: Be Brave. I just want to be brave and have the courage to change, and live, and grow, and make the tough decisions. I want to be brave enough to choose love. I want to be strong enough to swallow my whining and do the work. I want to be brave and not run out and try to "save" other people when I am afraid. I want to be strong enough to drop the things that aren't important, or that do more harm than good. Be brave enough to make good choices, even when that is hard.

But sometimes figuring out what the right choices are is complicated, and deciding whether taking risks with Scott's job is brave or just childish is a tough one right now. It's also hard to know whether we are,  in fact, taking big risks or simply doing the next right thing for us. No idea right now.

The job in San Diego is not really open yet, is what they are telling us. Scott's end date here and their start date leave a gap in the middle that needs filling. How we want to handle that is the current debate. We need to handle that gap with care, and the other people on Scott's team and their best interests are also in our hearts. We may not be able to jump on that opportunity at all, especially when you weigh it against perhaps being able to stay here (which is such a gamble), it all feels a little overwhelming.

I don't want this wavering over when we may need to relocate, or how, to stop me from changing the things I want to change. I want to move out of this house. I want to have another child. Those things are going to take huge amounts of work and stress, and I don't want this Hokey Pokey game with Scott's job to make us feel like we can't handle our life at home. Because ultimately, our family is first. So we either need to do the safe thing (which isn't our ideal choice) because it will lighten the stress on our personal life, or decide that we will take it on and be fine with whatever happens. Be brave enough to do the work (move with kids, deal with ambiguity and risk and toddlers) with the hope that we will get what we want out of it, which is to live here on the Central Coast. Or in San Diego.

Anyway, blah blah. The simple obvious truth is that I am severely tired. We will figure this out. The other update is that I am figuring out the blog and it will be up and functional with pictures, as soon as I get some time and energy back. It's in the works.

Think pretty-blog thoughts! Be back soon.

 

Night Rider

I love to travel. That being said, I am not a seasoned world traveller by any stretch of the imagination. I've been to Europe twice in my life, and loved it each time, but that's it. I can't even claim to have seen more than a handful of states in this country. But California? I know California.



image from here



Among other routes, I used to drive I-5 from the central coast to Chico, over and over for a couple of months. This was about ten years ago. My car didn't have air conditioning. I would buy a gallon of water and put it behind the passenger seat. Every twenty minutes or so I would grab it by the handle and slosh it over my head, drenching my hair and the entire front of my body, plus the cloth seat. In the dry heat of Sacramento traffic, everything would be dry in about fifteen minutes. However, with all the windows rolled down, you had fifteen minutes of homemade air conditioning!

Understandably, now my favorite time to drive long distances is at night. Despite the fact that I now have air conditioning. I love the community of drivers on the road in the evening. They are mostly long distance drivers, they aren't late for work, and they are more generous than daytime traffic. I love the colors of the evening, my favorite time of day. The silvery metallic blue of the flat freeway, sparkling like a mirage where it meets the glowing horizon. The Salinas river, carving out the landscape like a bright mirror laying in the dark. The headlights sparkle like Christmas lights as the stars start to emerge and the moon rises. Long distance driving is one of the activities that seems to force me to live in the moment. I do my best thinking on the road at night.



image from here


One of the best things I learned from Al-Anon, a support group I belong to, is the metaphor of the rear view mirror. Examining your past is good, and looking to the future is good, but only in short glances. Staring into it for too long is as dangerous as never looking at all. A few glances every so often is just right. I always think of this when I'm driving, for obvious reasons, and I take that opportunity to think about my past, my future, and if my present life is everything I want it to be.

Life for me right now is both peaceful and exciting. I have never felt so aware, empowered and blessed ever in my life. With my husband tapping away on his laptop, my baby fast asleep in the backseat, it feels great to sink into that cozy feeling of fulfillment. Or is that just my seat warmer?

Cute Cuddly Flaws

If you are a regular reader of this blog, watch out, this is a huge spoiler: I have flaws. Glaring ones. I know, I know, your jaw is in your lap right now. Give yourself a moment to recover. You would have probably found this out sooner or later on your own (if you haven't already) but cheers to getting that out of the way so that you won't smack into it unawares sometime later down the road.

I used to think my flaws were meant to be hidden, pushed under water like baloons. When they finally broke the surface after a struggle, my face would burn and my palms would sweat. I have really found that by ignoring them, they seemed to multiply and become larger in their ambiguity. Due to the hazy nature of my relationships with them, they had more power over me because I could not call them by name. In addition, I lumped in other people's lists of what my flaws were- not questioning, just adopting those lists as my own.

My old self, as I knew her, had these flaws:

1. Clingy
2. Oversensitive
3. Analytical
4. Judgemental
5. Naive
6. Weak in Math, Science and Logic
7. Talkative
8. Unused Potential
9. Not Witty... no wit? nitwit? Are those things related?
10.  Body Flaws- don't get me started...

To name a few. Some of these are my own, some are other people's. Here is how I view this list now:

1. Clingy: also goes by the name High Maintenance. My boyfriends used to throw this one at me when I was younger. Some friends may come by it when they want to spend less time with me and I am still happily in the honeymoon phase. Not so much a problem when you have kids and have less time for everybody, including your partner, but still. I am not clingy. I may be less independent than some, and I feel- to each their own. I do like to spend time alone, I really enjoy that time and crave it. But I love to spend lots of time with my friends and my partner and you know, others don't as much. That's fine. It doesn't have to be better or worse than some other guy who's like "I am a rock, I am an iiiiiiiisland..." You want to be an island? Fine, dude. Don't rain on my love parade, just take your thang somewheres else.
2. Oversensitive: This is a popular one when someone is just plain being mean and doesn't want to 'fess up to it. I am not the person who asks you twenty times whether you are sure you really like me, or if you're just saying that to make me feel better. But I am the person who is going to call you on your hilarious joke about my complete lack of fashion, etiquette, or ability to be a decent human being. Thanks, but I can clearly see that you are trying to dress up mean in funny's clothing. Fail.
3. Analytical: This one I can own. It's a recreational activity for me and some people just hate it. If you hate it, then you'll see it as a flaw of mine. Even worse if I am having a really off day and combine it with the next one on the list. SSSSssssss..... bad, bad. But sometimes, when I'm around others that love it, it is a jam sesh and totally wonderful! So... flaw? Eh, may not be your thing and I'm good with playing whatever you want to play. Unless its in the blog world, then just skip the blogs labeled "Philosophizin'"... cause you'll hate those.
4. Judgemental: Ooo. Sometimes. It's usually inadvertent or a blurty moment. I'm a normal person and I have moments where "what's cool" gets confused in my head with "what's right". It's not good and when I catch it I try to correct it. I want to be a compassionate and open person, and make sure you know that I am aware your life is your own. Period. Not to be controlled by me.
5. Naive: Hm. Could be true of certain subjects. I mean, a lifetime isn't long enough to be seasoned in everything, not even most things. More often I hear this from people who think it equals friendly and optimistic. Not so. I am quite aware of the potential people have to make bad choices. I try to avoid focusing on bad choices, in most situations. In fewer situations, I try to avoid focusing on those that make them often. They have their reasons, but masochism is not my jam.
6. Weak in Math, Science and Logic: I was told this a lot, but it's not true. I was good at math in school, and enjoyed it, but I enjoyed English and Art more, plus that was what I got the most help with at home. I stopped studying math and it became an unused muscle. So yes, it's not my strong suit, but it's not an inate flaw.
7. Talkative: Yep, I looooove to talk! I don't see it as a flaw, this is one from someone else's list. If it's too much for you, I understand that. I don't know, cut back? Try smaller doses? I do try to listen, there is more value in that, really. But it's hard when I'm extra chipper or really fired up.
8. Unused Potential: I heard this a lot in school from my teachers. I had a hard time feeling motivated to get my work done. I understand that more now. I hear a lot from the media that my place in life isn't successful. I don't use my degree to make money and I stay home with my child. Blessed, but not impressive. I choose to view my life and what I do as a huge success. First, because it is an incredible challenge. Second, because it makes me unbelievably happy.
9. Not Witty: Geez, if I can't make you laugh, that is a huge bummer. But ya, maybe you prefer more cynical humor, or slapstick comedy (can't fall on my face over a blog... well, maybe if I figured out how to imbed video...) that's fine. I'm fine with it. I crack myself up and that is enough. Plus, every time someone tells me I am funny, I try to hear that instead. I am funny to them. Awesome.
10. Body Flaws: Oh, wow, I know everyone has a list! Mine started getting smaller the day I stopped blaming my body and started blaming myself for not taking good enough care of it. My body is doing it's best. Now, I believe that I can achieve most of the things I want (defined abs?) but I don't want to put in the time. So, I let it go. At least for now. Plus, there are things that don't make it on the front of magazines- a face covered in freckles, for example? But I saw a dermatologist last week who called my skin "perfect". Ahem, what? Clearly I am paying her enough...

My mission in this all-zits-revealed post is to send you this message, from me to you: if there is something other people don't like about you, don't just add it to your list. I did that, mostly without thinking, for a long time. I'm done with it. Look at the whole picture. Maybe you needed that trait to grow, protect yourself, cope with a hardship, or whatever. Be gentle and understanding. If you no longer need it, work on letting it go, but if it's something that is fine with you- go find someone that appreciates it. I promise you, there are a ton of people packed into this little world, and you are somebody's jam. Don't hang around letting someone else tell you what to add and trim. You're the only one that has to live in there, after all. Let it be a place you want to be.

Lots of Love.

These Are the Days, The Time is Now

There is no past, there's only future. There's only here, there's only now. --Van Morrison

Everyone has a time in their life when they have to face something that they aren't sure how to survive. We've all got our stuff: the tragedies, the losses, the battles. I know that everyone is out there trying to figure out how to make the most of today and get over yesterday. We all want to know how to fall asleep fast and easy when we hit the pillow tonight.

And I sit in this moment, the one in front of me, and realize that I have everything and everyone that I need, and more importantly, so does this little boy. Swinging on the porch, fists hugging the ropes, eyes alight with excitement. His time is now; this is his day. These are the moments that are quickly forming his sense of being loved and secure, and I can't bear to waste this moment with him picking at what I would change about this world if only I could. I take a deep breath, sit back in my chair, and give him another push, listening to his little laugh and watching his chubby little legs kick in the afternoon sun. There is time to grieve, but right now, this life is more than fine. It's really, really good.

Darn Hooligans

Here's a Hooligan you might recognize. Sorted by number and barcode, totally normal right?

I find myself jamming to the radio in the car, before I realize that Ben is hopefully napping in the back seat and I should turn it down. I turn a corner to find four or five boys on skateboards, outside our cul de sac. They aren’t directly in my way, and they move easily. They are between thirteen and seventeen, I would guess.

I wish I had visuals for this little play-by-play but I thought it would be somewhat strange to hunt down a group of skater boys and randomly take photos of them. Also, chances of success are extremely low. Also… way creepy.

So my first response was like anybody’s over twenty. Pretty much: why are you out in the street, in my way, don’t you have somewhere to go, stuff like that. Then, I had some kind of epiphany. I stopped and actually listened to the script that my mind was running, and I argued with it. You know what I realized? I am truly glad that I live in a neighborhood where kids are gathering on my road to skateboard. It means that our streets are quiet and slow enough, that they feel safe there. I am not afraid of them, and they aren’t afraid of me.

Further than that, I tried to learn how to skateboard when I was eighteen. Tried being the key word there. Where did I go? The road in front of my house. Where I felt sure that people would drive slowly and I wouldn’t be harmed. Where should I have gone?

When my kids are teens, I don’t want them to feel their society turn on them suddenly. The fear and suspicion we show adolescents makes them feel alienated from the world, at a time when they most certainly need embracing. They don’t have homes of their own, not all of them have safe homes to go to, and teen “centers” are either a myth or a poorly funded sham, depending on where you live. In California, most household expenses require dual incomes, and they are expected to look after themselves, or at the least, keep to themselves. Is it any wonder that it’s a time of emotional confusion?

After this little talking-to I gave myself, I see kids skateboarding in the streets, and I think: curb appeal. I wave to them and smile. I want them to know how happy I am to see them there, enjoying the community around them that is just as much theirs as it is mine. If they feel accepted by strangers around them, as opposed to ostracized, perhaps it will give them a sense of kindness and loyalty toward their neighborhood.

 I hope neighbors will see Ben playing out in front of our house someday and smile.

Party in the S.L.O. Grad School Edition

I love people, and love meeting new ones, but I especially love meeting women. Amid all of the talk of catfights and backstabbing that goes on in reality television, I find women to be the opposite. Whether I meet them through friends, or through parenting groups, they feel immediately inclusive and personal. Even if they don't open up with every little thing, or necessarily try to pursue getting to know me, I feel a very strong comraderie. I don't even think all of us know the many details that make up our common existences, and what kind of trenches we are all in together. But I still feel them when I meet someone new, and it feels familiar. I love it.

This weekend Steph brought some friends up north to meet the family and get the Central Coast Experience firsthand. They were a hand-picked crew, and we loved each and every one. Seeing Nanny Snuffy is always a special occasion, we are super close. But this weekend was extra fun. A nod back to earlier years, when we would have a few drinks with some of her college friends, or she would show up late on a Sunday looking a little worse for wear. Add in some fresh stories, good food, touristy activities and fits of hilarity and you have a rockin' weekend.

Amy got to work cooking us her famous nachos, with her own cast-iron skillet. Here she is contemplating the tools provided. Pretty much if you will cook for me I am endeared to you immediately.

This is her meticulous process in action.

The next day we had a nice long, lazy morning before heading to the Cliffs for lunch. Ya, this photo is a bit much, but still. The too-good-to-be-true is the real thing when you are at the Cliffs Resort. It makes me feel like I am on an expensive vacation when I really just drove ten minutes up the road to have some sweet potato fries.

I'm kind of feeling badly for not taking a photo of the gorgeous blue view that we were all looking at. If you really want a peek, you can see it in this post.

I was really looking forward to getting a chance to get to know Steph's friends from her Sociology cohort, she has been talking about them nonstop all year, so to place people with jokes and stories was a big draw for me, but I really didn't expect that underlayer of serious bonding that happened. What an awesome bonus. I really feel close to them and hope they will be back soon. Oh, and the magic of Facebook in the meantime.

Bonding with women can feel like a scary leap for some. It's hard to trust each other when every corner of media real estate is reporting on boyfriend "stealing", bullying, and gossiping. You may be sure that it will happen to you, and it might. But the joy of girlfriends is an enormous gift, no matter how many times you need to start again, no matter how late in life a new friendship begins. There is just something special about it. As Inara said on Firefly, "One cannot always be oneself in the company of men.” Not always, not always. But you can see in this last photo, those two are certainly being themselves. And I just drank it up like a martini.

Cheers!

A Capacity for Change

It has been a beautiful day. I had been thinking this over for the past week, just observing how frequently people rely on "who they are" to explain away behavior. No, don't worry, it wasn't you. I was watching reality television. I think that where we have been and our environment are good explanations for our tendencies, but I wish people could see change as liberating, not scary. If something isn't working, its a fantastic thing that we can just say- well, I guess I will just try something else. I mean, this woman has been yelling at her daughter for five years, and her beautiful, capable, intelligent daughter is still on the street looking for love and escape in all the wrong places. Clearly, the yelling isn't working. This poor exhausted woman just doesn't think she can stop.

Sometimes the changes we most need to make can seem the most impossible. Deciding to stop accepting financial support from family and striking out on your own, for example, can feel so overwhelming. People who understand bank accounts, taxes and budgets can assume that everyone is taught this growing up, but thats not the case. All of the unknowns can make a simple situation feel unattainable.

Deciding that you actually don't know how you feel about someone; deciding that you are going to stop repeating the same routine and actually get to know them. That is incredible. You could wander through the rest of your time with a person and never see the impact they have on you. To be able to stop in the middle of a relationship that is on a treadmill and contemplate that you might be wrong- about everything you have told yourself so far- and start over? It's liberating! It's exciting! It's inspiring! It's admirable.

It is so scary to take away all the rules and the false sense of control, and just fly. Attempting to let life happen to you and take responsibility for your part in it. What you say and what you do, those are choices, and they belong to you. I find it exciting, that you can choose to completely reform your way of life. A control freak pessimist can decide to work at becoming a laid back optimist. It is totally possible. Its all possible. We are all making this up as we go along.

I think this is one of my favorite things about Scott, and one of the reasons that I felt so strongly that we could make a marriage last. We both have confidence in our ability to change and adapt to life as it comes. We struggle with change, and work at it. But we believe, and it shows.

Change is such a beautiful concept. We cannot control our world and the people in it, that is true; but we can flip our own script, and become someone entirely new as life goes by around us. Hopefully this new person has a greater insight into themselves, more compassion, acceptance and conviction. Regardless of what has changed, even if nobody has noticed but us, our ability to do so is a gift and our doorway to freedom. 

Having children is a big change, and I feel surrounded by decisions to make all day long. Trying to remember how far we have come, and that I can release all of the goals and ideas I had before we had Ben, and adopt new ones, helps me feel fresh and flexible every day.

I have to remind myself daily that with new information comes greater understanding. The decisions I made and the objectives I set at that time were not flawed simply because I didn't know then what I know today. New information is the green light, to rip out yesterday's page and start again at the top.

I love people, and their ability to grow and stretch and challenge themselves. I love knowing that I have that inside myself, too.

Today was a beautiful day for big, huge, glass-shattering changes, and it makes me feel like celebrating, so this is me celebrating with you. Cheers to a crisp sheet of blank paper, to the smell of new, to tearing away the old dusty parts and polishing up a whole new creation. Spring is really here!

Ben Needs a Dollhouse

Auntie will play dolls with him!

Maybe not right now, but in the next year, definitely. He doesn't even have any dolls! But thats okay, they are really more meant for playing pretend, and he isn't there yet. He has puppy for all of his cuddling needs. Oh, its completely fine for girls to play with trucks and dirt and learn how to fix the kitchen sink, right? We love women, right? But I promise more than one man is cringing with inexplicable aversion at the idea of Ben playing with dolls.

Scott is brilliant, in my opinion, but as with all of my relationships, the guy always seems to come up short in the areas of communication and conflict resolution. I know, I know, tell you something you don't know, right? Well, how did I learn how to make friends, share (which, ahem, Scott is still working on), and discuss my feelings? Playing dolls with my friends. Before he gets to the stage where "MO-om, boys don't dooooo that", I want him to at least have a rudimentary grasp on his feelings, friendships, and how to talk about them with his peers. Being able to schmooze takes you far in this society, people! I intend to give my kid as much knowledge as I can to get him as far as I can. And I don't know Spanish at all. So that is out.

Language: The Secret Handshake

Do you remember an embarrassing moment in junior high or high school when someone used a word that you didn't understand? I remember having to plaster on the "I totally get it" face, and behind the mask, frantically search the context for clues. It was especially difficult if they were using a new slang term, or referring to something taboo that you weren't supposed to know about.

We decide so much about people based on language. Slang is almost like the password into an underground club. Especially when you're young, that's how you "weed out the nerds", or more likely, are weeded out by your peers. But if you think about it, we still do it as adults. We put a lot of value on accents. A British accent is thought to sound intelligent, but a southern accent... not so much. Not to mention Indian, Korean and Canadian accents.

Immediately upon meeting a stranger, you reveal so much more than you realize about yourself. At the very least, your country of origin, and if the stranger is from the same area, they may be able to tell what part of the state you are from. In this country, lots of people can identify New Jersey, New York and Boston accents. Here in California, a few slang terms can give away whether you are from the north or the south.

When it comes to connections and wealth, language plays a critical part in the etiquette universe. Much has been made about this in movies. If you use the local vernacular, and don't exercise an extensive vocabulary, you will be dismissed quickly as ill-mannered and unrefined.

The most interesting part of this system, is that we created it. We assigned social value to each language and accent, and we calculate that value each time we encounter someone new. There are so many pieces of our culture that function this way- as clues to someone's place in society- that informs us subconsciously of our relationship to them before we have even developed a dialogue.

What new words is Ben's generation going to make up to define themselves? What am I going to do if Urban Dictionary ever evaporates and I can't figure out what they mean? I hope I can teach him enough about how to use the tools of vocabulary and diction to allow him access to the locked doors in society that he may need to get into. It's amazing how much we need to pass onto our children to prepare them for our world, and even more incredible is how much they will create to make it completely their own.

Honey, It's Because She's Crazy.

Hands On

Paranoia is really trying to bust out of its cage over here, what with all the people who are reading, and worse with the people of whom I hear are reading. As with walking a tight rope, if I don't look down I will make it across, right? Walking over here, well perhaps mosey-ing. Also awkwardly whistling and looking in upward directions at nothing.

I do feel that its strangely appropriate to be putting myself out "there" (where?) at this time in my life. I have just a few months left of my twenties, and I have two goals for my much-aniticipated fourth decade on earth:
        a) to truly listen to different perspectives and practice acceptance
        b) to be unapologetic about who I am

Qualifiers: not aggressive, not defensive, just not trying to fit into someone else's system.

I love my wide net of friends, with different experiences, and even if we have differences, I want to be able to focus on what we have in common, without necessarily having to sweep myself under the rug.

Here's something you may not know- Scott and I have conflicting beliefs and politics. He was raised to be very conservative, and I was raised, well.... in Santa Cruz. A very special kind of liberal territory, for sure. Neither one of us is carbon copies of our parents' original plans, I'm sure. In my case, I am very sure. But it's definitely the foundation of everything we believe. When we were first discussing marriage, we had long and sometimes depressing talks about how this was going to work. Daily life was pretty easy, but we knew that when we got older and had kids we would have to face some pretty tough issues. Well, wouldn't you know it, here we are! A whole split second later!

Our final game plan kind of floated to the top of all these road blocks that we kept running into. We agreed on very little when it was all drawn out on paper. Do you like Mexican food? Yes, yes. Check. Separation of church and state? NO?? Really???!! Okay so not quite like that, but I'm paraphrasing. In the spirit of paraphrase, our solution looked somewhat like- if the child in question asks you about this issue, you answer their question. If they ask you why their other parent so clearly scoffs at that answer, you tell them that its because said parent is craaaaaaaazy. But you love them anyway. Although we both care a great deal about the values and beliefs that Ben learns here at home, he will have to choose his own way in the end, as we all do. We respect each other's opinions and beliefs, and we love each other anyway, and I hope that is the take home message.

Another take home message: Its not okay to hide the other person's absentee ballot and tell them that the mailman must have just lost it...

Officially six months has passed... and an ode...

I just want to preface this by stating again how much I love this little nugget. Even at the worst times when we just aren't at our best, although those days have pretty much slowed to a trickle, now. He knows the drill, and likes it, and the only fussing that usually happens is when Mama fails to realize he has indeed pooped or he is bored by this stage of the day earlier than expected. Its a love haze at this point, basically. Once you get the daily grind mastered. That being said, people commonly say, "you will forget what life was like without him!" Well, here to say that day has not come yet, and I consider that to be a good thing.

At 6am, when (I know, 'lucky us' as many parents tell me) he wakes up and starts making his little wake up noises, I remember what it was like to sleep until 7:30.  I remember when the rudest intrusion upon my eight hours of beauty sleep was Scott quietly getting dressed or the cats raising some unholy heckuva racket. I remember what Friday nights were like, deciding to go out to dinner last minute or rent a movie. The odd party here and there at a friend's house. How easy it was to leave town, and whenever we wanted to. Staying in bed when I was sick, and Scott being able to go to work.

But, I remember being bored a lot of the time, both working and not working. I am a serial monogamist at heart, I have been single, but for six or eight months in a couple of handfuls. Scott and I met early, at 22, which felt like 'finally!' to me at the time. I like building relationships. I love meeting that new friend that just gets you right at the beginning. The two hour lunches peppered with "I know!"s. I love that stage of partnership when the bloom has decidedly left the rose, but you are through the "okay, I love you but am kind of sick of you" phase. You've had your arguments, you've had your obsessive together all the time stints. Now you are onto that warm breeze of missing them only just enough when they have left for the weekend. You have allowed yourself to take them for granted just that amount that allows you to feel safe and secure, but you appreciate their presence when they are gone for even just one night, and want them back. I wanted a baby, another person, and most importantly, another type of relationship. One that would help me explore human bonds further, to stretch myself emotionally. I am here to say, it has delivered. I can poignantly hold in my mind both realities: one without children, in a clean home with no bright reds, yellows, and blues. One that is constantly doing crazy things like taking your blender into the bathroom and balancing many things precariously throughout the day. I prefer the challenge of parenthood, although it is work, without it I feel I would only be jogging in place.

Confession: Now that we are at the six month mark, I get about as much done now as I did before the baby. When life got active before, less housekeeping was done. Same goes for now. I hate housekeeping so it always falls to a dismal last. More accurately, it is done in an urgent haste when I just can't live with it anymore or someone is coming over. Then I mostly clean just what they will see.

Beyond that, the promised ode. This one, to the vessel that carried my cheeky little chunk. Six months after the huge accomplishment that is Ben was birthed into this world, I thought I would be concerned about the state my body was in. Was I going to gain too much weight, be too concerned about my jigglies to feel like a wife, and not only a mommy? I feel very much like my old self, with some residual pregnancy health issues. But as to fitting into jeans and such, its not that everything is back to what it was, its just that its very close-close enough. My jeans fit better one day than the next, but my concern with it is so much less now. In fact, I am so impressed with my body's ability to go through the wreckage that was Ben's birth, and put itself back together again (more or less). I am so impressed by that, that I just don't care as much about the rest. I am not in amazing shape, exercising daily, or any of that. I thought I would be! In an urgent worry about my body being "let go". I exercise about the same amount as I did before, always vowing to do more, but remaining fairly active. What's more- when I pass a mirror, I don't mind a little roundness here and there. I  look like me, nearing thirty. I am just proud of my body, and hope to take as good care of it as it deserves. Hopefully I can resist the constant stream of outside voices (I know you hear them, too!) that say I shouldn't think my body looks fine the way it is. I should be doing more! Well, I'm not, and I'm happy. Get over it.

Its Either A Cramming Feast Or An Intellectual Famine

Wow, growth! I can feel it, this new normal, rolling into the cracks and edges and coloring it all in with brand new scenery. I can't believe its been six months. I remember fantasizing about this month when he was first born- how great it would be to see him playing, smiling and jumping. Failing completely to imagine what his tiny little face would look like, all puffed out and cheeky. It is just as glorious as I thought it would be.

Further thoughts on growth: I have my mind back! Well, for now. I can remember things, and expand on ideas. I can read books and contemplate their themes. I can imagine paths for myself, with different futures and adventures. I can make lists of things to get done, and adopt new routines. That last one is the real thriller. I can adopt new routines. I am not an old person set in her ways. I can bravely learn about cloth diapers. I can decide that his bedtime routine will look like that. I can remember that since he is napping I should go do xyz real quick and move things forward throughout the house. Keeping one corner of an eye locked on my baby I can invent new activities based on his increasing skills! Now that he suddenly likes the Bumbo, I can prop him on the counter and cut up things for dinner, hanging some links and a toy from the cabinet door above. These things may seem simple, but after the intellectual famine that is pregnancy (and the first three months of infancy, really) these realizations hold the same excitement as zero gravity. It may be short lived, but I am savoring it.

So in the interest of riding this train as far as it will take me, I have been scrapbooking, researching ancestry, reading thought provoking family blogs such as "Enjoying the Small Things" and "Lesbian Dad", both providing me with windows into lives that are different, but not so different than mine. For example, an excerpt here re: Baby-Help Books by LD:

"The “For Fathers Only” sections in the chapter “Postpartum Family Adjustments” made me want to chuck the book out the nearby window. Subsection titles include gems such as

“Keep the nest tidy” (duh!),
“Be sensitive” (what else are you going to be?!),
“Guard against intruders” (must use martial lingo! must! this is manly business!),
“Take charge of the siblings” (I say again, duh!), and
“Become a shareholder” (this is to remind Dad to actually hold the baby, yep, actually hold the baby).
Is anyone this stupid? Could this actually reflect any facet of reality? Don’t answer that! If the answer’s yes, I don’t want to know. Okay, one last look at the accident before we drive on past. From “Be sensitive”:
Dads, be aware of your wife’s needs. As one mother confided, “I’d have to hit my husband over the head before he’d realize I’m giving out.”
Don’t even let me get started on the “More Keys to a Better Marriage Adjustment” section.
The most articulate response I can muster to most all of the “For Fathers” material is: What the fuck? If I’m living in a wacky, Northern Californian, left-wing, feminist-liberated, queer-friendly haze, then lord love me and leave me there! Because none of that stuff, but none of it, would do anything but patronize and insult any men friends of mine. If it doesn’t, it should! And woe betide the wife of the man who is genuinely enlightened by any of this. "

YA! I am so surprised that we are still told to hold men's hands through this whole thing, because of course the implication is that it is supposed to come naturally for us. I'll tell ya, even with drugs, nothing about pregnancy or birth felt natural to me. I kept telling myself that this had been going on with women for as long as there were women, no need to panic... comfort provided? Um, zero. Now, thats not to say that it doesn't feel natural to many women, I'm sure it does. Caring for Ben once he was born felt natural to me, besides breastfeeding, which felt more like learning how to operate heavy machinery, or work a stick shift. I'm sure there are women out there who felt like caring for an infant felt like being a fish out of water. All I'm saying, is that we are entitled to the same learning curve, and men don't even have to do any of the beginning part. We all have an adjustment to go through, nobody's getting out of that.

My husband is one of those who thankfully, does not need to be taught how to roll up his sleeves and get in there. But I tend to be the kind of person who is going to hand it to him anyway, so if he wants to roll up his sleeves first, he better get to it. I absolutely do not apologize for asking for help when I need it, and I need it. Why be on a team if you don't want to pass the ball? Anyway, beyond that, he is a fabulous partner. He has his moments, when overwhelmed, as I do as well. When neither of us wants to do this anymore, and wants the other one to do it. Five more minutes, please, just five more minutes. Not perfect, but on even-ish ground here at home and I'm so glad.

See? Thought provoking. She gives me plenty to chew on, just like Kelle over at "Enjoying the..." and that keeps my thought-wheels turning and in that way, makes me feel healthier.

I have a book club that I make it to about half the time, but I credit them with making me read Maya Angelou! One of those books you want to take everywhere with you just so that you can look at complete strangers with that casual aloof "Oh, ya, of course I read Maya Angelou and never ever US Magazine" look. It used to be a total lie, but now its only a half-truth, as I actually DO read Maya Angelou, and love her! Now I can add her to Amy Tan under my list of authors I pull out when I want to impress someone and kick my tattered and dog-eared Twilight books under the couch. Movin' on up!

All this learning and reading- I only have four and a half more months until I am 30! Apparently I have quite a bit to fit into this last leg of my 20s.

The Family Art of Eating

Being the Mom has really made me look at myself and what I actually do, not only what I want to teach Ben. I am reading a book about feeding your child and its made me reflect on what I was taught about food and health. My mom was amazing when it came to teaching us about food. She enjoyed food, didn't obsess over it and was an equal opportunity eater. I have a great model to work from when it comes to feeding Ben. We had a garden growing up (which I don't). It made me appreciate very simple food. No chemicals, no additives or preservatives- produce that came straight from the ground to our kitchen table. My mom grew the kind of tomatoes that you wanted to eat like apples, because the taste was like an explosion. It was all you needed. I don't even know how to compare the tomatoes you can buy at the store. Its a pathetic comparison. Hopefully someday I will catch the gardening bug. One of my favorite things was picking ingredients for dinner from the garden in the summer twilight. I can remember the smell of the valley and the way the dusty vegetables felt in my hands. It made food feel like a way of life.

Mom is so against the "clean your plate" philosophy, and she would defend us against it when we were much too little to understand. We either ate as a family, or Steph and I would eat together in the kitchen and I would try to get her to taste things she hated, like olives. We could eat as much or as little as we wanted at dinner or snack time, as long as it wasn't too close to dinner. Desert was usually two small cookies that we were allowed to steal from Dad's stash. He kept them in old-fashioned animal cracker tins on the top shelf. I remember them being red, with pictures of tigers and other circus animals in caged train cars. Sometimes Mom would put together fancy elaborate deserts. When I say elaborate, I don't mean layered and decorated cakes or some kind of Martha Stewart hand painted cupcakes. I mean hearty, country style pies or peaches and ice cream. That was a treat in our house and she always seemed so excited to announce it, and we were excited to hear it.

When Mom makes dinner its always at least three courses, and she always offers you bread and butter. We always had a glass of milk and candlelight. She has a flair for presentation- she would arrange the food, add garnishes, and bring the big dishes to the table. You serve yourself, as much or as little as you'd like. She used brown or wild rice, was careful about how well the meat was cooked, and packed the salads. Light on the lettuce, heavy on the healthy stuff. She is incredibly creative in the kitchen, and got increasingly so with every passing year. She can make a meal out of anything, and can visualize a quick, healthy snack without even looking in the fridge. When we were growing up she cut cheese from blocks (none of this pre-sliced extravagance) she bought heads of lettuce, just-pulled-from-the-ground carrots. Our fridge could sometimes look like a farmer's ice box from the forties. It was real food, and it was really good.

We were your average unappreciative kids who just didn't know better. We said our pleases and thank yous and helped set the table, but we dawdled when it was time for dinner, and we had to be reminded to comment on how good it was. Mom loved us. She could tell by the way I quieted down, and Steph danced in her chair that we loved a meal.

We had no idea how much work it took to put a meal like that on the table night after night, much less how wonderful it was that she loved it and poured love into it. Not every night was magical, of course, this isn't some kind of perfectly polished television show. But there was scarcely a night that she didn't put forth the love and the effort, hoping for the magic. She taught me so much about nutrition and caring for my body and what went into it. She taught me how to be comfortable in your kitchen, to experiment, try again and to care about the process, not the perfection. Dad taught me not to rush through a meal and to avoid talking business at the table. It's a time to relax, to savor, to smile over dancing candlelight at the ones you love.

Cheers to that.

Keeping Up with the Jones (es)

Wow, I just fully understood the title for the Kardashians' show... ew.

ANYway, today has been one of those days. I realized while getting ready quickly (Ben asleep in swing for 15 minutes!) that I didn't fully rinse out my conditioner and my hair looks greasy. I discovered flecks of baby poop all over the wipe warmer (and finally cleaned them off), the cat pooped downstairs in a corner. The fan is in the way of me quickly putting away TV trays and I keep forgetting to recycle the coke can that I just rediscovered sitting on a side table as I write this. I did the dishes and wiped down some of the kitchen, but the house still looks like a wreck for some reason. I finally cleaned the toilet in the downstairs bathroom (just squirted some cleaner around the bowl and came back later to flush it down- I almost did it with a baby on one arm, but thought better of it with all the bleachy fumes.) But forget enjoying that effect, as there is a dirty diaper cover sitting on the counter waiting to be washed. Lovely.

I am musing over all of this because I might have some girlfriends come over. Fellow mommies, thank God, who will totally understand my situation, but they both have beautiful homes, that are always clean when I visit them. I love home decorating and design, and I love seeing what other people do with their furniture and spaces. That being said, I don't spend a lot of money or take really any time to sit down and decorate my house. It drives my BF Kelly crazy, as she knows I have had the time in the past, and her home is spectacular. She really enjoys actually doing it- the construction, the painting, the detailing. I just like to buy things, pick out colors and pay other people to do the rest. Which of course costs more. And I am privy to her price tag for that kind of gorgeous shiny perfection and I definitely cannot afford it. I limit my creativity (for now) to scrapbooking. I buy a piece of furniture every couple of years. Finally all my wood furniture is the same color! (after 5 years). I plan on keeping our couches for much longer than they will be pretty for. I like my stuff, and I am happy in my home. But it would incredible if I could sit down and pay the money to design and execute a room from start to finish. And that would be a blast! (If I could pay someone to do the painting and hauling).

I was trying to remind myself of what my reasons are for having a mediocre decorating scheme. And not cleaning more. What is important to me? Why don't I invest the time and money? Well I don't invest the time and money because I don't want to yell at my kids (and especially not someone else's kids) when they inevitably spill red juice on it. I don't want to cringe and hear the cha-ching sound echo in my head when the cats scratch it. When it gets flecks of baby poop on it and the paint comes off when I clean it. In other words, we are entering into a break everything, spill everything, stand on everything phase of life and I think its worth it to slow my roll when it comes to bringing nice stuff into the house. Now, that being said, Kelly and my other friends do a great job of making their houses durable, comfortable and inviting. But I would rather spend the money on the extras when the kids hit high school. I want to do it in a house more permanent, where I know we will be for a good decade plus. I want to get deep in it, and enjoy it. Set aside money and make it really what I want, and enjoy it for years and years.

What is important to me? Well, I've decided that more than I want to be a stylish family, more than I want to be a family with a clean, shiny and organized house... I want to be the kind of family that has fun. I want to take that time and play. I want to go places, take pictures, make memories. I want to laugh it off when stuff breaks, use our flatware as toys, turn our living room into a fort and eat pickles and chicken nuggets when I forget to go grocery shopping. I want to become a good cook! Not a fancy cook, but make healthy, basic meals that taste good, and make them over and over again. I want to have all my time to focus on holidays, birthdays, homework, back to school night and playdates. I want to have enough energy to say "yes" when my kids ask me to drive them to a friend's house, or take them to the local pool. I want to stop and hear my kids, instead of being stressed out about completing my to-do list and trying to give them just a quick fix. Maybe someday I will be skilled at doing all these things and keeping the house clean and beautiful, but I want these things to come first. I want to be it all, have it all, do it all. Isn't that what we are told is possible? What we are told we "should" be doing? I can't clean my house, spend time with my family and be cooking an elaborate meal all at the same time. I have to remind myself often that what I label a "good use" of my time is my decision, and only mine. If it starts to be about what I think other people might think, I will become only a stress case, and not good at anything that I want to do.

This is me reminding myself. I hope you all are taking time to play, too!