It's hard to really live when you are always afraid of making a mistake.
It's hard to go about normal life, like buying a damn stroller, when you are second guessing yourself all the time.
It's hard to be in relationships when you are always scared of being left, scared of hurting someone, and ultimately scared that maybe you should be somewhere else with someone else, but then again ... what if you shouldn't?
I've been living with persistent fear for a long time, and my solution to that fear was to try to control everything in my power. For a while it seemed like it was working, and then I got married, and had a baby, and the past 2 years have been a series of upheavals for me, a constant stream of information from the Universe that I am not in charge, that I have never been in charge, and that I need to get on board with it.
Okay. I can handle that.
But damn, letting go is so hard! I know some people have trouble being responsible, because thay throw their entire souls into having fun. That's what I need to work on. Letting go, and letting God handle it. Enjoy my time here on Earth, not worry about the house being neat, or the clothes getting folded, or every case off my desk by Friday at 4pm. The world will not stop spinning if I don't buy P's anniversary gift two weeks early, and look! We ran out of milk this morning, and Boogie is still alive!
Okay, enough dramatics, but really. I need to remember that sometimes it's better to have P mess it up the first time, than to do it all myself.
February 26, 2008
February 23, 2008
Asparagus
Sometimes the only way to get online with a toddler is a split screen. So as I'm blogging here and shopping online at gymboree (woo-hoo $50 in gymbucks, but these 2t clothes better last a loooong time at the rate they cost) Boogie is perched on one of my legs watching a baby break dance and a dog do tricks to that "Grease" song. She's boogying down with her headphones on.
Weird things people teach their dogs in the Midwest.
Anyhow, I was really coming to put up a quick post that Boogie was eating raw asparagus last night, and the stinky pee gene? She doesn't have it, thank goodness.
Weird things people teach their dogs in the Midwest.
Anyhow, I was really coming to put up a quick post that Boogie was eating raw asparagus last night, and the stinky pee gene? She doesn't have it, thank goodness.
February 21, 2008
(This was supposed to be short, but steadily got longer and longer...)
Is it weird to pray in the shower? My life is so loud, so hectic, to scattered, that sometimes I feel like the only time that I have to myself, that I won't be interrupted, is when I shower before bed. I don't pray when I'm washing to goodies, that's just a bit weird to me, but the sound of the water hitting the tub drowns out the madness of the world around me and I feel like I can be centered and focused and talk with God.
The truth is, when I try to pray in another setting, I lose focus. My mind wanders, or I'm interrupted, and so I've really come to love my time in the shower, just me and the cat, sitting on the toilet lid meowing (I think she's scared I'm getting hurt by the water...like she does), and my thoughts.
One of the things me and my God have been discussing the past few nights is patterns. I've been perplexed for years that it is so easy to recognize patterns in other people, and so difficult to see them in oneself. My biggest struggles in life have been how to break myself of certain patterns, in thoughts, actions, and more importantly, reactions.
Like very recently, I heard a statement from someone and even though I knew it had nothing to do with me, I was still bothered by it. These patterns jumped out at me and I was pissed at what was said, but rather than react to it, I mulled it over for a few hours and realized that it's not fair to anyone for me to hold someone accountable for something that they are probably not aware of. Capice?
For instance, if you have a client who keeps promising to get something done, every time they are coming up on a deadline they ask for more time, more time, always just a little bit longer because life is in their way, at what point do you deny their benefits? Can you fault someone who is so focused on survival that maybe they can't grasp the importance of returning a paper to you, or filing for unemployment, even though you've told them they can't have benefits without it? And when you deny them, and they reapply, and you get stuck in that same dance again... I can csee the pattern, but THEY cannot. How to you make someone aware of a pattern that is damaging to themselves, and that sometimes is hurting the people aroudn them? How do you explain to a homeless single mother that unless she goes to child support, she can't have her cash grant?
Another thing God and I have been discussing is when it's appropriate to open my mouth, when to keep it shut, and the wisdom to know the difference. Or something like that. I hesitate to tell people what I notice because I don't want to be offensive (or hello! a freaking hypocrite) but am I doing them a disservice by keeping it to myself?
Ah, so many questions, so little time. Good thing I shower every night.
(almost)
The truth is, when I try to pray in another setting, I lose focus. My mind wanders, or I'm interrupted, and so I've really come to love my time in the shower, just me and the cat, sitting on the toilet lid meowing (I think she's scared I'm getting hurt by the water...like she does), and my thoughts.
One of the things me and my God have been discussing the past few nights is patterns. I've been perplexed for years that it is so easy to recognize patterns in other people, and so difficult to see them in oneself. My biggest struggles in life have been how to break myself of certain patterns, in thoughts, actions, and more importantly, reactions.
Like very recently, I heard a statement from someone and even though I knew it had nothing to do with me, I was still bothered by it. These patterns jumped out at me and I was pissed at what was said, but rather than react to it, I mulled it over for a few hours and realized that it's not fair to anyone for me to hold someone accountable for something that they are probably not aware of. Capice?
For instance, if you have a client who keeps promising to get something done, every time they are coming up on a deadline they ask for more time, more time, always just a little bit longer because life is in their way, at what point do you deny their benefits? Can you fault someone who is so focused on survival that maybe they can't grasp the importance of returning a paper to you, or filing for unemployment, even though you've told them they can't have benefits without it? And when you deny them, and they reapply, and you get stuck in that same dance again... I can csee the pattern, but THEY cannot. How to you make someone aware of a pattern that is damaging to themselves, and that sometimes is hurting the people aroudn them? How do you explain to a homeless single mother that unless she goes to child support, she can't have her cash grant?
Another thing God and I have been discussing is when it's appropriate to open my mouth, when to keep it shut, and the wisdom to know the difference. Or something like that. I hesitate to tell people what I notice because I don't want to be offensive (or hello! a freaking hypocrite) but am I doing them a disservice by keeping it to myself?
Ah, so many questions, so little time. Good thing I shower every night.
(almost)
February 20, 2008
Month Twenty
Hey Sweets, Happy twenty-month birthday!
At this exact moment, you are in the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel while your Papa brushes your teeth. In a second, he'll bring you in here so I can hold you while he puts your lotion on. Then it's butt-cream, oatmeal, Goodnight Moon, milk, and sleep.
Ah.
Of course if anyone heard you telling them your bedtime routine, it would sound more like: "bu-creeeeem," "o-meeeee," "booooog," "te-te," and "noni." A friend asked me the other day if "memo" was Spanish or Guarani. At first I had no idea what she was talking about until I realized she was trying to figure out what language you say tomato in.. which is toddlerese, I guess? "Memo" is tomato, "boo-bee" is blueberry, and "coco" is bird, but I think most other things you say are pretty clear, and Darling, you are a chatter box. On the say to Safeway this afternoon, you were yelling "Coco!" every few second when one flew through the sky.
You also aren't quite over Happy Birthday yet, and now instead of just "happy" you also sing along to the "birthday to you," and the name of whoever it is. Normally Taryn, sometimes Boogie, and in the last few days "Tio." Everyone is Tio now, La Tia, the neighbor, pretty much anyone you don't have another name for.
Gymnastics is over for a few months, and the last day of class you were giving everyone hugs and a kiss for teacher Michele. For the most part, you are pretty shy right now, hanging back when we get in a crowd of people that you don't know. But within 10 or 15 minutes, you are running around with the kids like you've know each other your entire lives. Sort of like Mama. And my wish for you this month is that you retain that watchfulness, but don't let it interfere with your social development.
Holy smokes, Batman! I almost forgot that you jumped out of your crib too! Well, I don't know if you actually intentionally jumped, maybe more like the weight of your massive brain dragged the rest of your body to the floor after it one night (and we don't even have carpet, sorry Love). But I am glad to say, and knocking on wood, you haven't tried it again. Unlike your Buddy Jackson, who is a regular Evil Knievel, and now gets a head start of his Houdini act and jungle-mosquito-netting survival skills since he's been given a challenge in his crib. A nice big white netted one.
Aside from that leap of faith, you've also been at the grown-up table for a few weeks, sitting on a couch pillow to eat dinner with your real metal fork and spoon, and ladybug dish set. Too cute for words, except I started taking pictures of you eating oatmeal one morning (and a pint of "boo-bees" afterwards, and when I started to put the camera away, you refused to eat until I took more pictures of you. I don't know what kind of monster I've created, but a few days before that I told you to show Papa your new belt, and you strutted over to him, turn around, jutted one hip out and put your hand on it like, "Look, I know I'm cute, just say it."
Ohmigod. And you haven't even hit two yet. You've got over 50 words in 3 languages, plus a bunch of signs. Impressive, especially since a lot of them I don't even know. Like I say every month, every week, pretty much every day, you continue to amaze me with how superbly intelligent you are, how loving, kind, generous, what a good dancer, and a good listener, and how all around incredible you are. I love you more than I ever thought possible, you have been the most wonderful blessing I could have ever been given.
I love you.
Mommy
At this exact moment, you are in the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel while your Papa brushes your teeth. In a second, he'll bring you in here so I can hold you while he puts your lotion on. Then it's butt-cream, oatmeal, Goodnight Moon, milk, and sleep.
Ah.
Of course if anyone heard you telling them your bedtime routine, it would sound more like: "bu-creeeeem," "o-meeeee," "booooog," "te-te," and "noni." A friend asked me the other day if "memo" was Spanish or Guarani. At first I had no idea what she was talking about until I realized she was trying to figure out what language you say tomato in.. which is toddlerese, I guess? "Memo" is tomato, "boo-bee" is blueberry, and "coco" is bird, but I think most other things you say are pretty clear, and Darling, you are a chatter box. On the say to Safeway this afternoon, you were yelling "Coco!" every few second when one flew through the sky.
You also aren't quite over Happy Birthday yet, and now instead of just "happy" you also sing along to the "birthday to you," and the name of whoever it is. Normally Taryn, sometimes Boogie, and in the last few days "Tio." Everyone is Tio now, La Tia, the neighbor, pretty much anyone you don't have another name for.
Gymnastics is over for a few months, and the last day of class you were giving everyone hugs and a kiss for teacher Michele. For the most part, you are pretty shy right now, hanging back when we get in a crowd of people that you don't know. But within 10 or 15 minutes, you are running around with the kids like you've know each other your entire lives. Sort of like Mama. And my wish for you this month is that you retain that watchfulness, but don't let it interfere with your social development.
Holy smokes, Batman! I almost forgot that you jumped out of your crib too! Well, I don't know if you actually intentionally jumped, maybe more like the weight of your massive brain dragged the rest of your body to the floor after it one night (and we don't even have carpet, sorry Love). But I am glad to say, and knocking on wood, you haven't tried it again. Unlike your Buddy Jackson, who is a regular Evil Knievel, and now gets a head start of his Houdini act and jungle-mosquito-netting survival skills since he's been given a challenge in his crib. A nice big white netted one.
Aside from that leap of faith, you've also been at the grown-up table for a few weeks, sitting on a couch pillow to eat dinner with your real metal fork and spoon, and ladybug dish set. Too cute for words, except I started taking pictures of you eating oatmeal one morning (and a pint of "boo-bees" afterwards, and when I started to put the camera away, you refused to eat until I took more pictures of you. I don't know what kind of monster I've created, but a few days before that I told you to show Papa your new belt, and you strutted over to him, turn around, jutted one hip out and put your hand on it like, "Look, I know I'm cute, just say it."
Ohmigod. And you haven't even hit two yet. You've got over 50 words in 3 languages, plus a bunch of signs. Impressive, especially since a lot of them I don't even know. Like I say every month, every week, pretty much every day, you continue to amaze me with how superbly intelligent you are, how loving, kind, generous, what a good dancer, and a good listener, and how all around incredible you are. I love you more than I ever thought possible, you have been the most wonderful blessing I could have ever been given.
I love you.
Mommy
February 17, 2008
Books for Brain Power
I've realized very recently that I love learning, but I have issues retaining the information. I always sort of knew that, considering I'd forget facts literally minutes after I finished taking a test in college, but when it comes to self-improvement, how in the hell do you keep track of all those things you want to do, and also be present in the moment, and on top of all that, take care of your business in the real world?
I mean, I can logically tick off the things I want to work on, but when I'm stressed or tired or hungry, how do I keep those goals in my mind while also dealing with the stress, and still have energy to do all those other things I need to handle, like work, cooking, cleaning, showering....? How do people constantly strive to be better than they were, and still maintain their sanity? My God, it feels like madness to just think about it!
My answer is, of course, to keep feeding my brain what I want to know, how I want to develop myself, so that I don't have to waste brain power on remembering, I can just go back into that zone for 20 minutes in a book before I go to sleep. Is that cheating?
I have been catching myself before mindlessly reacting recently. I've been trying to breathe instead of speak sometimes, and speak instead of ruminate. Maybe I just got wired backwards, and I need to somehow flip-flop those circuits to be normal? Hehehe, can I ever be normal? It's kind of fun to not react in a comfortable way, it's exciting to see a different way of living.
Instead of vomiting anger at my husband for not doing what we agreed he would do, like giving Taryn her bath last night, I give myself 2 minutes to calm down, (and give him a 2 minute chance to be the noble man I know he longs to be), then I do what needs to be done and appreciate the extra time I have with her.
On our way to gymnastics yesterday, P decided 5 minutes before we were leaving that he did in fact want to go. He was dressed and ready in about 3 minutes, then sat at the computer to check his email while I put on my shoes. As I was bringing Boogie to the car, he told me to wait so he could make some coffee. Instead of react to him lacking forethought, sitting at the computer wasting time when he could have been downstairs making his coffee, I told him I wasn't waiting and put her in the car.
He made it out of the house right before we pulled away, and was able to see Boogie having a blast for an hour.
It's taken me a long time to realize that my control issues are detrimental to my wellbeing. I have been trying for so long to control what is beyond my grasp, and I've gone crazy wondering why the world doesn't turn how I know it would most effectively. I'm reining all that in, and I'm really focusing on myself, the one person I can control in my life. It's taken my 6 years of marriage to realize that P is outside my range, and I officially give up trying to change him.
That doesn't mean I won't wish he'd do things differently, but I feel at peace knowing that it's up to God, not me, to make him more responsible.
I don't like New Age-y stuff. I'm not a fan of non-fiction. But if anyone has good book recommendations, fiction or story-like non-fiction, that I can learn from, please let me know. I'm all about feeding myself what's good and healthy and sane right now, so no more murder mysteries or horror stories, but after that I'm stuck as to where to turn.
I mean, I can logically tick off the things I want to work on, but when I'm stressed or tired or hungry, how do I keep those goals in my mind while also dealing with the stress, and still have energy to do all those other things I need to handle, like work, cooking, cleaning, showering....? How do people constantly strive to be better than they were, and still maintain their sanity? My God, it feels like madness to just think about it!
My answer is, of course, to keep feeding my brain what I want to know, how I want to develop myself, so that I don't have to waste brain power on remembering, I can just go back into that zone for 20 minutes in a book before I go to sleep. Is that cheating?
I have been catching myself before mindlessly reacting recently. I've been trying to breathe instead of speak sometimes, and speak instead of ruminate. Maybe I just got wired backwards, and I need to somehow flip-flop those circuits to be normal? Hehehe, can I ever be normal? It's kind of fun to not react in a comfortable way, it's exciting to see a different way of living.
Instead of vomiting anger at my husband for not doing what we agreed he would do, like giving Taryn her bath last night, I give myself 2 minutes to calm down, (and give him a 2 minute chance to be the noble man I know he longs to be), then I do what needs to be done and appreciate the extra time I have with her.
On our way to gymnastics yesterday, P decided 5 minutes before we were leaving that he did in fact want to go. He was dressed and ready in about 3 minutes, then sat at the computer to check his email while I put on my shoes. As I was bringing Boogie to the car, he told me to wait so he could make some coffee. Instead of react to him lacking forethought, sitting at the computer wasting time when he could have been downstairs making his coffee, I told him I wasn't waiting and put her in the car.
He made it out of the house right before we pulled away, and was able to see Boogie having a blast for an hour.
It's taken me a long time to realize that my control issues are detrimental to my wellbeing. I have been trying for so long to control what is beyond my grasp, and I've gone crazy wondering why the world doesn't turn how I know it would most effectively. I'm reining all that in, and I'm really focusing on myself, the one person I can control in my life. It's taken my 6 years of marriage to realize that P is outside my range, and I officially give up trying to change him.
That doesn't mean I won't wish he'd do things differently, but I feel at peace knowing that it's up to God, not me, to make him more responsible.
I don't like New Age-y stuff. I'm not a fan of non-fiction. But if anyone has good book recommendations, fiction or story-like non-fiction, that I can learn from, please let me know. I'm all about feeding myself what's good and healthy and sane right now, so no more murder mysteries or horror stories, but after that I'm stuck as to where to turn.
February 14, 2008
mod*mom
Okay, I don't know how to do links, but if you have kids, or are pregnant (or want to buy Boogie someting really cool) go to modmom.blogspot.com. She's also got some incredible contests going on, so if you just want to win something, go there anyway.
Liza! I'l talking to you! Go enter...now! I know you don't have any work to do today.
Heheheh. Okay, post tomorrow about our dinner tonight, maybe Bogie will have a sibling this year? Sorry, TMI.
:)
Liza! I'l talking to you! Go enter...now! I know you don't have any work to do today.
Heheheh. Okay, post tomorrow about our dinner tonight, maybe Bogie will have a sibling this year? Sorry, TMI.
:)
My Favorite Commercial Holiday, After Christmas and St. Patrick's Day
By Aletta C
In most situations, I am not one to be seduced by commercialism, but in the case of today, I am all for celebrating a made-up holiday.
Some people have blogged about how dumb it is to spend all this money to show someone you love them, and why do you need a certain day set aside for that anyway? Well, I’m here to tell you that maybe I picked the short straw out of the bunch, but my husband does not send me flowers at work “just because.” I do regularly get awesome gifts from him, but only because our wedding anniversary, my birthday, our first kiss and Christmas are roughly every three months throughout the year.
I’m not jealous of you people who get diamonds every year, and a dozen roses because you weren’t smiling in the morning when you left for work. Really? I’d rather my husband surprise me with a clean house and a home-cooked meal, than to splurge on an over-priced bouquet of roses that smell like tomatoes, or to buy yet another piece of jewelry that I won’t wear because I don’t want to lose it. Better yet, let me sleep in Sunday morning, and go pick some daisies with Boogie for me.
That being said, I sure as shit am not passing up a free meal at the restaurant of my choice. We’re doing our part to slow down the recession, and if that involves eating fresh-caught swordfish and oysters that were scraped off a rock while I was making my coffee that morning (hopefully not from the hideously polluted Richardson Bay though..) how can I shun commercialism for that?
Now, we don’t buy each other $4 cards, or spend $30 on chocolates. We go to dinner, a nice, romantic moment alone, which we rarely have the opportunity to indulge in between work, taking care of Boogie, and our various other social engagements. The next weekend we exchange Valentine goodies, when we can get them for 95% off, and laugh at people who actually paid full-price for them.
But that’s just us.
We can still smile at the new couples who are all stressed out the day before, running to find the flowers and balloons, and the couple the night of whose limbs are entwined throughout dinner. We think it’s cute, but we’ve been together long enough to know 1) this day is an excuse (yay! Free babysitting!) for us to go out alone and 2) there is so much more we’d like to do with the money we would have been spending on all the gifts and flowers.
I did get him a present though. I figure that since he’ll be paying for dinner, I could get away with buying him some “manly essentials” which he always procrastinates buying for himself.
So, Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope you make of it whatever makes you happiest!
In most situations, I am not one to be seduced by commercialism, but in the case of today, I am all for celebrating a made-up holiday.
Some people have blogged about how dumb it is to spend all this money to show someone you love them, and why do you need a certain day set aside for that anyway? Well, I’m here to tell you that maybe I picked the short straw out of the bunch, but my husband does not send me flowers at work “just because.” I do regularly get awesome gifts from him, but only because our wedding anniversary, my birthday, our first kiss and Christmas are roughly every three months throughout the year.
I’m not jealous of you people who get diamonds every year, and a dozen roses because you weren’t smiling in the morning when you left for work. Really? I’d rather my husband surprise me with a clean house and a home-cooked meal, than to splurge on an over-priced bouquet of roses that smell like tomatoes, or to buy yet another piece of jewelry that I won’t wear because I don’t want to lose it. Better yet, let me sleep in Sunday morning, and go pick some daisies with Boogie for me.
That being said, I sure as shit am not passing up a free meal at the restaurant of my choice. We’re doing our part to slow down the recession, and if that involves eating fresh-caught swordfish and oysters that were scraped off a rock while I was making my coffee that morning (hopefully not from the hideously polluted Richardson Bay though..) how can I shun commercialism for that?
Now, we don’t buy each other $4 cards, or spend $30 on chocolates. We go to dinner, a nice, romantic moment alone, which we rarely have the opportunity to indulge in between work, taking care of Boogie, and our various other social engagements. The next weekend we exchange Valentine goodies, when we can get them for 95% off, and laugh at people who actually paid full-price for them.
But that’s just us.
We can still smile at the new couples who are all stressed out the day before, running to find the flowers and balloons, and the couple the night of whose limbs are entwined throughout dinner. We think it’s cute, but we’ve been together long enough to know 1) this day is an excuse (yay! Free babysitting!) for us to go out alone and 2) there is so much more we’d like to do with the money we would have been spending on all the gifts and flowers.
I did get him a present though. I figure that since he’ll be paying for dinner, I could get away with buying him some “manly essentials” which he always procrastinates buying for himself.
So, Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope you make of it whatever makes you happiest!
February 11, 2008
Living in the Moment
You know, I've always thought that one of the main reasons I was so anxious all the time was that I didn't live in the moment, but I discovered last night, that is far from the truth.
I was huffing around the house, irked that I was cleaning up after dinner, after walking the dogs, after feeding Boogie, doing laundry, cleaning the litter box, generally spending my Sunday taking care of everything and everyone but me. I was also trying to impress upon my husband the fact that Boogie is going to copy whatever he does, so he needed to get his act together. He had been eating corn kernels with his fingers, belching at the dinner table and generally being a pig, and she mimicked every disgusting act that he performed.
So I was standing in the hall surveying the damage to my house and plotting how to clean the biggest mess with the least amount of effort so that I could go upstairs and start a new book before I fell asleep. P bent over to put his shoes on to take out the trash, and let one rip. I restrained my fury and called him a pig. Feeling proud of myself for not losing my cool, I started cleaning the massive piles of newspaper that were beginning to take over the house since we started delivery. P came inside to grab the recycling, and as he walked past me he let out a huge stinking belch that reeked of corn and salmon, mayo and hippy water ... and I socked him in the arm.
In that moment, that single instant without thought, where my arm flew out from my side and connected with the source of my disgust and fury, I realized, Dude! I was totally in the moment right there!
And see, now I realize that when I am truly aggravated, I'm entirely in the moment, not contemplating the future repercussions of my actions. Now I just have to figure out how to do that more when I'm happy.
:)
I was huffing around the house, irked that I was cleaning up after dinner, after walking the dogs, after feeding Boogie, doing laundry, cleaning the litter box, generally spending my Sunday taking care of everything and everyone but me. I was also trying to impress upon my husband the fact that Boogie is going to copy whatever he does, so he needed to get his act together. He had been eating corn kernels with his fingers, belching at the dinner table and generally being a pig, and she mimicked every disgusting act that he performed.
So I was standing in the hall surveying the damage to my house and plotting how to clean the biggest mess with the least amount of effort so that I could go upstairs and start a new book before I fell asleep. P bent over to put his shoes on to take out the trash, and let one rip. I restrained my fury and called him a pig. Feeling proud of myself for not losing my cool, I started cleaning the massive piles of newspaper that were beginning to take over the house since we started delivery. P came inside to grab the recycling, and as he walked past me he let out a huge stinking belch that reeked of corn and salmon, mayo and hippy water ... and I socked him in the arm.
In that moment, that single instant without thought, where my arm flew out from my side and connected with the source of my disgust and fury, I realized, Dude! I was totally in the moment right there!
And see, now I realize that when I am truly aggravated, I'm entirely in the moment, not contemplating the future repercussions of my actions. Now I just have to figure out how to do that more when I'm happy.
:)
February 10, 2008
The Hardest Weeks Are When Tomatoes Are Not on Sale
I love tomatoes, and there are some things I refuse to eat without them. Like a roast beef sandwich, it just isn't the same without a fresh sliced tomato on it. Or a salad with bleu cheese dressing.
So normally, those horrible winter weeks when they are $4.99 per pound, I'll either hold off on the foods I love so much, but can't bear without my red little beauties on them, or I'll get desperate and slice up Boogie's organic sweet cherry ones and try to make do.
I didn't win anything, I still haven't won anything. I'm wondering what the lesson is here, that I need to work harder, that the easy life won't just fall in my lap. I've been putting off life for a while now, thinking that once the money troubles are over, then, then! I'll do what I need. Like get my windshield fixed (which, by the way, has been broken for 3 years, and the crack has spread across 90% of the glass. My fear now is that, knowing my luck, it will get hit by yet another rock, and this time it'll shatter while I'm going 70mph on the freeway). Or buy a filing cabinet so I can sort through the boxes and boxes of papers that we have. Maybe buy a headboard for our bed. After 6 years of marriage, we've still never gotten one. And a new black jacket, because the one I have isn't going to last another season.
We've got plans. I've got a huge goal of paying off all my debt by the end of this year. P keeps telling me it will happen, that he'll be giving me money for food, and soon he'll be off my medical, but really, I think I can do it without any extra cash flow, and I want him to focus on paying off his crap too. It just sucks donkey-balls to think of another year of deprivation. My refund check that should be arriving in May? Spent, partly on credit cards, partly things that I've already picked out in my mind. (Just doing my part to keep us out of a recession) And it was mostly on Boogie, a new book shelf and toy box. We needed those, and it's easier to spend money that I don't have on her, than on myself.
It feels like this year will be like those weeks I can't buy tomatoes. Everything feels too expensive in relation to what I have, but I decided this time that I'd rather do without them than sacrifice, say, milk, to get my tomato fix. This year maybe I'll get good at finding free, or cheap things to entertain me and Boogie.
I just keep waiting for things to get easier, and it seems that life is meant to be a struggle. I suppose I can't keep waiting for it, for anything, to get on with my life. Maybe I'll start a list of books I want to read, that I can get at the library. Or start checking out a new park each week with Boogie. Maybe I'll finally be able to find a volunteer opportunity that I want to do, and isn't a conflict of interest. And of course get cracking on that Quiet Book. I was thinking I'll start garage sale-ing to get those things that I need, and want, but can't afford new.
(And **shhhhhhh**) ... I'm hoping P is going to get me a sewing machine for our anniversary. I think that would be so cool, to learn to sew, and make stuff. I'm itching for a creative outlet, and maybe, just maybe, I'll find something I'm really good at, and really enjoy. I just think about all the ideas I see of things to make for Boogie and her little-people friends, and I get so excited! Also, I've discovered that I sort of like ironing. Weird, huh?
So normally, those horrible winter weeks when they are $4.99 per pound, I'll either hold off on the foods I love so much, but can't bear without my red little beauties on them, or I'll get desperate and slice up Boogie's organic sweet cherry ones and try to make do.
I didn't win anything, I still haven't won anything. I'm wondering what the lesson is here, that I need to work harder, that the easy life won't just fall in my lap. I've been putting off life for a while now, thinking that once the money troubles are over, then, then! I'll do what I need. Like get my windshield fixed (which, by the way, has been broken for 3 years, and the crack has spread across 90% of the glass. My fear now is that, knowing my luck, it will get hit by yet another rock, and this time it'll shatter while I'm going 70mph on the freeway). Or buy a filing cabinet so I can sort through the boxes and boxes of papers that we have. Maybe buy a headboard for our bed. After 6 years of marriage, we've still never gotten one. And a new black jacket, because the one I have isn't going to last another season.
We've got plans. I've got a huge goal of paying off all my debt by the end of this year. P keeps telling me it will happen, that he'll be giving me money for food, and soon he'll be off my medical, but really, I think I can do it without any extra cash flow, and I want him to focus on paying off his crap too. It just sucks donkey-balls to think of another year of deprivation. My refund check that should be arriving in May? Spent, partly on credit cards, partly things that I've already picked out in my mind. (Just doing my part to keep us out of a recession) And it was mostly on Boogie, a new book shelf and toy box. We needed those, and it's easier to spend money that I don't have on her, than on myself.
It feels like this year will be like those weeks I can't buy tomatoes. Everything feels too expensive in relation to what I have, but I decided this time that I'd rather do without them than sacrifice, say, milk, to get my tomato fix. This year maybe I'll get good at finding free, or cheap things to entertain me and Boogie.
I just keep waiting for things to get easier, and it seems that life is meant to be a struggle. I suppose I can't keep waiting for it, for anything, to get on with my life. Maybe I'll start a list of books I want to read, that I can get at the library. Or start checking out a new park each week with Boogie. Maybe I'll finally be able to find a volunteer opportunity that I want to do, and isn't a conflict of interest. And of course get cracking on that Quiet Book. I was thinking I'll start garage sale-ing to get those things that I need, and want, but can't afford new.
(And **shhhhhhh**) ... I'm hoping P is going to get me a sewing machine for our anniversary. I think that would be so cool, to learn to sew, and make stuff. I'm itching for a creative outlet, and maybe, just maybe, I'll find something I'm really good at, and really enjoy. I just think about all the ideas I see of things to make for Boogie and her little-people friends, and I get so excited! Also, I've discovered that I sort of like ironing. Weird, huh?
February 7, 2008
Three Year Itch
I know it's not right, and I could seriously regret being hasty, but it's killing me to stay here. My whole body is telling to me to do it, but my mind is vainly holding on to the thread of logic... I've made it this long, why not postpone the damage a bit longer? It's like the urge to smoke, I need it, I want it, and the fight against it just makes it that much more appealing. I don't want to make a mistake, but I don't know how long I can resist.
The longest I've lever held a job is 3.5 years. Every few years I get this burning desire to get out, start over, try to find something I truly enjoy doing. This job I have? It's a job. It's never going to be a career for me. Most days I don't mind it, very rarely I actually enjoy it, and sometimes, like today, like the client I'm dealing with now, the system problems, all of it, I just want to throw it all away.
Because my job is dictated by what the boys upstairs call "Rules and Regulations." In other words, a whole bunch of nonsensical policies that are aimed at helping as few people as possible, while maintaining the facade of being a Human Service Agency.
I know blogging about work is a no-no, but lets see this from a constituent's perspective. I have a decently paying job, but I can't afford to pay for health insurance for my family. So I mosey on down to the local welfare office, stand in line, outside in the cold at the ass-crack of dawn for an hour to try to get an appointment. If I'm lucky, I get seen the first day. If I'm a little late, I have to do it all over again the next day, maybe losing pay from work to be there, but knowing the consequences are dire if I don't get help.
So when I finally make it to an intake interview I learn that the only chance I have of getting insurance is to cash out my retirement funds. Because I earn to much for my toddler to get free Medi-Cal, I have to potentially sacrifice my retirement.. just in case. And even then, I'd have to pay thousands of dollars per month that I use the Medi-Cal, because the government doesn't take in to account mortgage payments, and credit card debt, so the income they are using is exponentially higher than what I actually have left over at the end of the month. And I'm not even going to get started on Eligible Student rules.
And yes, I think that some of the supervisors and staff are doing a wonderful job of improving for the clients those things they have control over, but I feel like a hypocrite. How can I talk about how much I want to help people, and I'm in this position with my hands tied behind my back telling people who need help that there is nothing I can do?
Have you ever heard someone roll their eyes over the phone? I did. When I found out that a requirement that we made of pregnant woman was changed 5 years ago, and we never knew about it. A change that would have been beneficial for them, and it desn't happen. But when there is one more hurdle placed in their way, those are snapped into action immediately (which, for public sector means within 2 years).
So this itch, I thought I would have longer, considering I was out on maternity leave for 7 months, but it's here. Now. It's burning. I want to make a difference. I want to love my work. I don't want just a job to pay the bills.
The longest I've lever held a job is 3.5 years. Every few years I get this burning desire to get out, start over, try to find something I truly enjoy doing. This job I have? It's a job. It's never going to be a career for me. Most days I don't mind it, very rarely I actually enjoy it, and sometimes, like today, like the client I'm dealing with now, the system problems, all of it, I just want to throw it all away.
Because my job is dictated by what the boys upstairs call "Rules and Regulations." In other words, a whole bunch of nonsensical policies that are aimed at helping as few people as possible, while maintaining the facade of being a Human Service Agency.
I know blogging about work is a no-no, but lets see this from a constituent's perspective. I have a decently paying job, but I can't afford to pay for health insurance for my family. So I mosey on down to the local welfare office, stand in line, outside in the cold at the ass-crack of dawn for an hour to try to get an appointment. If I'm lucky, I get seen the first day. If I'm a little late, I have to do it all over again the next day, maybe losing pay from work to be there, but knowing the consequences are dire if I don't get help.
So when I finally make it to an intake interview I learn that the only chance I have of getting insurance is to cash out my retirement funds. Because I earn to much for my toddler to get free Medi-Cal, I have to potentially sacrifice my retirement.. just in case. And even then, I'd have to pay thousands of dollars per month that I use the Medi-Cal, because the government doesn't take in to account mortgage payments, and credit card debt, so the income they are using is exponentially higher than what I actually have left over at the end of the month. And I'm not even going to get started on Eligible Student rules.
And yes, I think that some of the supervisors and staff are doing a wonderful job of improving for the clients those things they have control over, but I feel like a hypocrite. How can I talk about how much I want to help people, and I'm in this position with my hands tied behind my back telling people who need help that there is nothing I can do?
Have you ever heard someone roll their eyes over the phone? I did. When I found out that a requirement that we made of pregnant woman was changed 5 years ago, and we never knew about it. A change that would have been beneficial for them, and it desn't happen. But when there is one more hurdle placed in their way, those are snapped into action immediately (which, for public sector means within 2 years).
So this itch, I thought I would have longer, considering I was out on maternity leave for 7 months, but it's here. Now. It's burning. I want to make a difference. I want to love my work. I don't want just a job to pay the bills.
February 6, 2008
Taryn Overdose
Finally! Christmas pictures and some other random stuff from the last few months.
Rub-a-dub-dub ... Look at that hair!
All dolled up.
She loves her new baby. And her laundry basket.
New shoes for Christmas.
Most of those gifts didn't get opened Christmas, she got too tired from ripping all the paper off.
She did help with the decorating though.
I guess it's called "helping" right?
Ready to go somewhere.
I don't condone standing on the table, but she is pretty darn cute.
How can you not smile seeing that face?
More of the chicken suit from Halloween.
Cheese!
Boogie with her Tio Jeff.
They are very cooperative when bribed with food.
Popeyes long-lost daughter?
That's all for now!
Rub-a-dub-dub ... Look at that hair!
All dolled up.
She loves her new baby. And her laundry basket.
New shoes for Christmas.
Most of those gifts didn't get opened Christmas, she got too tired from ripping all the paper off.
She did help with the decorating though.
I guess it's called "helping" right?
Ready to go somewhere.
I don't condone standing on the table, but she is pretty darn cute.
How can you not smile seeing that face?
More of the chicken suit from Halloween.
Cheese!
Boogie with her Tio Jeff.
They are very cooperative when bribed with food.
Popeyes long-lost daughter?
That's all for now!
Hypocrite
After all my bitching and moaning, I go and do the same thing.
What is wrong with me? Just because he did it first, does not make it okay for me to go and do it later. Granted, it wasn't my intention, but at that point of no return, I plunged ahead hoping he would react better than I did. And mostly, it was true, and I in my childish-ness punished him for being the bigger person.
As I was telling Tere last night, he has seen me at my worst, he has stuck by me through the BS, and I've done the same for him. That's got to count for something.
What is wrong with me? Just because he did it first, does not make it okay for me to go and do it later. Granted, it wasn't my intention, but at that point of no return, I plunged ahead hoping he would react better than I did. And mostly, it was true, and I in my childish-ness punished him for being the bigger person.
As I was telling Tere last night, he has seen me at my worst, he has stuck by me through the BS, and I've done the same for him. That's got to count for something.
February 5, 2008
Top Heavy
I was downstairs doing dishes last night when I heard a loud thump upstairs. Thinking it was Jojo banging around again, I looked at P and asked, "What the f*** was that?"
He, in all his smart-ass glory, commented that maybe she fell this time. I dropped the dishes I was cleaning and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Just as I was getting to the top of the stairs, I saw Boogie's little hand curled around the edge of the door, pulling it open while the other hand rubbed at her eyes. She looked at me and just said "Mommy" with tears streaming down her face.
When P got upstairs about a minute later, I was kneeling on the floor with her, rocking her back and forth as I searched her little body head to toe for any sign of injury, but I think she was just shaken up more than anything.
So we brought her in our room, the daring jump had given her some energy, and as soon as she got over the shock of hitting the floor, she was up laughing and playing like nothing had happened. We figured that she had probably stepped on her doll and her ginormous head caused her to fall over the rail on her crib.
All day today, I was at once mortified that she had jumped out of her crib, and at the same time laughing that her head probably weighs enough to cause her whole body to fly along after it. I do hope she scared herself badly enough not to try that again though...
He, in all his smart-ass glory, commented that maybe she fell this time. I dropped the dishes I was cleaning and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Just as I was getting to the top of the stairs, I saw Boogie's little hand curled around the edge of the door, pulling it open while the other hand rubbed at her eyes. She looked at me and just said "Mommy" with tears streaming down her face.
When P got upstairs about a minute later, I was kneeling on the floor with her, rocking her back and forth as I searched her little body head to toe for any sign of injury, but I think she was just shaken up more than anything.
So we brought her in our room, the daring jump had given her some energy, and as soon as she got over the shock of hitting the floor, she was up laughing and playing like nothing had happened. We figured that she had probably stepped on her doll and her ginormous head caused her to fall over the rail on her crib.
All day today, I was at once mortified that she had jumped out of her crib, and at the same time laughing that her head probably weighs enough to cause her whole body to fly along after it. I do hope she scared herself badly enough not to try that again though...
February 3, 2008
Why? Again...
I just don't get how people can consciously ruin a relationship.
This is one of those days where I truly believe that I would be better off alone. I don't want to be a divorced single mother at 25, but I don't know if my sanity will allow me to stay here much longer. It's madness.
We had a good stretch going, and he goes and does this. It's 1:08pm, and he still isn't home, thinks he's being a good guy by calling to tell me he's still too drunk to drive, and oops, I forgot we were having people over today to watch the game, and later a small birthday party, but Baby, I love you, I promise I'll make it up to you.
And I'm stuck here, because he took the carseat. I can't go anywhere because I have the baby, and no way to transport her. SO I have to call and email people back that, hey, sorry for the late notice but you can't come over anymore because I can't go to the store to get supplies, and by the way, P isn't back from a night out getting drunk either. Even though the last time was supposed to be the end of it.
Like always.
I just don't know how much I am supposed to take before I snap? I don't know where the line is drawn between enabling his alcohol addiction, and just taking care of Taryn and myself? I don't know if these actions would bother me so much if they didn't affect me... if he had left the carseat and I could get on with my life, would I care so much that he's out drinking and smoking with the boys?
So am I angry because I'm selfish? Am I angry because he's killing himself, or because he is interfering with my life? I found an apartment I can afford, cheaper child care, a trade-in for my car... I can do it myself, I don't know why I'm still here.
This is one of those days where I truly believe that I would be better off alone. I don't want to be a divorced single mother at 25, but I don't know if my sanity will allow me to stay here much longer. It's madness.
We had a good stretch going, and he goes and does this. It's 1:08pm, and he still isn't home, thinks he's being a good guy by calling to tell me he's still too drunk to drive, and oops, I forgot we were having people over today to watch the game, and later a small birthday party, but Baby, I love you, I promise I'll make it up to you.
And I'm stuck here, because he took the carseat. I can't go anywhere because I have the baby, and no way to transport her. SO I have to call and email people back that, hey, sorry for the late notice but you can't come over anymore because I can't go to the store to get supplies, and by the way, P isn't back from a night out getting drunk either. Even though the last time was supposed to be the end of it.
Like always.
I just don't know how much I am supposed to take before I snap? I don't know where the line is drawn between enabling his alcohol addiction, and just taking care of Taryn and myself? I don't know if these actions would bother me so much if they didn't affect me... if he had left the carseat and I could get on with my life, would I care so much that he's out drinking and smoking with the boys?
So am I angry because I'm selfish? Am I angry because he's killing himself, or because he is interfering with my life? I found an apartment I can afford, cheaper child care, a trade-in for my car... I can do it myself, I don't know why I'm still here.
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