I think it's all been done before. I can't imagine a single action, thought, or experience in my life that hasn't happened to someone before me. After thousands of years of existence, there is nothing original in my life.
And it doesn't really bother me all that much.
I used to want to be different. I felt different and searched for things in my life to justify that feeling, and maybe it's having children, or being married, or just maturation, but I'm starting to feel like it's all been done before.
The individual pieces of our lives are interchangeable, we're never alone, and yet what makes us unique are all those pieces together, and the story of our entire lives that we've constructed with those basic building blocks. Like DNA, we all start with the same 'stuff' but how it is arranged, what came before and after and all those small details piled up is what makes us indiciduals.
I sometimes get stuck feeling as though no one understands me. I get tired trying to explain myself to other people, hoping for that glimmer of recongition so I can say, "Yes! That exactly." And not have to explain anymore. I've felt lately that people around me understand the point but not in the context of my life. I feel like I can relate on that one thing, but how it affects me based on past experiences is too far to reach. I feel like even though we have a lot in common, my history makes it impossible to ever be truly understood.
And that's okay. Because if someone ever understood me completely they might find out those things that I try to hide too. The lovely double edged sword.
I guess that in some parts of my life I feel like I'm going in circles. I'm reenacting the same conflicts and disappointments over and over, and I don't know how to jump off that dysfunctional hamster wheel. And people give me advice, and I understand (and often agree) but I can never explain all the small details and experiences to make someone understand that I can't just give up. There is too much history to give up.
So I hop back on the wheel, and run in place. But it's all been done before. Someone has worked it out in the past, and I have full confidence that one day I'll stumble on that path too, that it will be well trod by people before me and I can follow their footsteps for that time until I have myself straightened out, then I'll follow another path and see where it leads me.
Showing posts with label just rambling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label just rambling. Show all posts
October 29, 2008
October 22, 2008
Spot On and NatGEO
I'd been worrying about Taryn's sleep habits for a couple weeks now. She's quite consistent, but just not on an even similar schedule to any other kid I'm aware of. My little Angel sleeps 9p-8a at night, then a 2-3 hour nap in the afternoon. Sometimes she wants to nap 4 hours, but very rarely less than 2.5. So that makes about 14 average per day, and I didn't know if that was average or what.
Well, just read a WedMD article that said toddlers typically sleep 12-14 hours per day, so I guess she's doing fine. I have to say, though I can see the appeal of getting her to sleep earlier and having more of a break at night, I love that I get to see her for almost 4.5 hours after work, and I get to sleep in on the weekends.
Yes, waking up at 8am is sleeping in when your alarm is normally set for 5:45.
And ohmigoodness! P and I had quite a show on Saturday night.
I woke up around 12:45am to tinkle and heard a rustling noise outside and a low growl. I figured it was a cat or spazoid deer or something, so I looked out the window and literally 15 feet from me was a deer being stalked by 2 coyotes! The deer was backed up against the fence that separates our 'lawn' from the wilderness and the coyotes were doing figure 8's on either side getting closer and closer. I called to P who was dead asleep and the sound of my voice frightened the coyotes off a bit. We could tell the deer was injured so we makes some more hissing noises to scare them off, and one coyote ran up the hill, while the other one moved off about 30 feet but sat watching.
We went back to bed after a while, but for the next hour whenever we heard anything one of us would get up and look out the window with a flashlight and give the other an update. At some point P closed the window (I was knocked out, watching live nature shows really is exhausting) so we didn't get to see how it ended, but that deer was hardcore. He made a run for it at least once and got cornered and forced back down to the fence, but I think he made it in the end. I mean, if they could have taken him easily they would have, but he seemed smart enough and the coyotes were kind of wimpy.
So. I'm off the hook for walking the dogs in the early morning and at night, at least for a while. And the cat is grounded when the sun starts to go down.
Well, just read a WedMD article that said toddlers typically sleep 12-14 hours per day, so I guess she's doing fine. I have to say, though I can see the appeal of getting her to sleep earlier and having more of a break at night, I love that I get to see her for almost 4.5 hours after work, and I get to sleep in on the weekends.
Yes, waking up at 8am is sleeping in when your alarm is normally set for 5:45.
And ohmigoodness! P and I had quite a show on Saturday night.
I woke up around 12:45am to tinkle and heard a rustling noise outside and a low growl. I figured it was a cat or spazoid deer or something, so I looked out the window and literally 15 feet from me was a deer being stalked by 2 coyotes! The deer was backed up against the fence that separates our 'lawn' from the wilderness and the coyotes were doing figure 8's on either side getting closer and closer. I called to P who was dead asleep and the sound of my voice frightened the coyotes off a bit. We could tell the deer was injured so we makes some more hissing noises to scare them off, and one coyote ran up the hill, while the other one moved off about 30 feet but sat watching.
We went back to bed after a while, but for the next hour whenever we heard anything one of us would get up and look out the window with a flashlight and give the other an update. At some point P closed the window (I was knocked out, watching live nature shows really is exhausting) so we didn't get to see how it ended, but that deer was hardcore. He made a run for it at least once and got cornered and forced back down to the fence, but I think he made it in the end. I mean, if they could have taken him easily they would have, but he seemed smart enough and the coyotes were kind of wimpy.
So. I'm off the hook for walking the dogs in the early morning and at night, at least for a while. And the cat is grounded when the sun starts to go down.
September 25, 2008
Favorites
Do you ever worry that you are going to love Z more than Taryn?”
This is the question he casually threw out last night as we were discussing Boogie going into a toddler bed this weekend, dinner to celebrate his promotion, and an agreement to hash out a name for Frogger (aka Z).
Honestly, the thought had not even crossed my mind. My big worry was that I’ll love them the same but like Boogie more than her sister. I can’t fathom a child being nearer to my heart than my firstborn, someone being as smart and beautiful and loving and sweet as Boogie is, and I honestly regretted getting pregnant for a short time, because I was so worried about what an injustice it was to bring another child into the house when I could have stopped with perfection.
But as we talked a bit more I started to wonder if our perspectives were not meeting because we had different birth orders. P is the first child for his parents, and knowing his background I can understand his concern that I, the primary caretaker and mother, would love the younger more than the older. That is what he grew up seeing and experiencing, and for him, that must be a truth in life.
I, on the other hand, was the second child, and while I never doubted my mother’s love, there have been, and still are times when I feel like my older brother is the favorite. It doesn’t bother me as much now as it sometimes did when I was younger. I consciously set out on my own at a younger age and tried to be independent, and while I maintain ties to my mother, I have my own family to care for now so I don’t feel like I expect as much from her. I wonder if my mom and brother are so close because they’ve had to struggle to get to where they are now, and they’ve grown together during that struggle? I feel like I’ve always been connected to my mom, and our struggles deepened our understanding of each other, but I have never been the Prodigal Child.
But it’s all perspective. My idea of what a ‘favorite child’ is may be very different from my husband’s, mom’s and brother’s ideas are. And a person’s actions do not necessarily betray one’s feelings, because I think parents often overcompensate for having a favorite, by spending time and energy with the neglected child. I guess in the long run it will probably even out. I’m sure there will be some times when I favor one of my girls over the other, and I’m sure that will change over time as we all pass through phases in life. I just hope that I never lose the ability to treasure each one for how beautifully different they are, and teach them to appreciate that in themselves and others.
This is the question he casually threw out last night as we were discussing Boogie going into a toddler bed this weekend, dinner to celebrate his promotion, and an agreement to hash out a name for Frogger (aka Z).
Honestly, the thought had not even crossed my mind. My big worry was that I’ll love them the same but like Boogie more than her sister. I can’t fathom a child being nearer to my heart than my firstborn, someone being as smart and beautiful and loving and sweet as Boogie is, and I honestly regretted getting pregnant for a short time, because I was so worried about what an injustice it was to bring another child into the house when I could have stopped with perfection.
But as we talked a bit more I started to wonder if our perspectives were not meeting because we had different birth orders. P is the first child for his parents, and knowing his background I can understand his concern that I, the primary caretaker and mother, would love the younger more than the older. That is what he grew up seeing and experiencing, and for him, that must be a truth in life.
I, on the other hand, was the second child, and while I never doubted my mother’s love, there have been, and still are times when I feel like my older brother is the favorite. It doesn’t bother me as much now as it sometimes did when I was younger. I consciously set out on my own at a younger age and tried to be independent, and while I maintain ties to my mother, I have my own family to care for now so I don’t feel like I expect as much from her. I wonder if my mom and brother are so close because they’ve had to struggle to get to where they are now, and they’ve grown together during that struggle? I feel like I’ve always been connected to my mom, and our struggles deepened our understanding of each other, but I have never been the Prodigal Child.
But it’s all perspective. My idea of what a ‘favorite child’ is may be very different from my husband’s, mom’s and brother’s ideas are. And a person’s actions do not necessarily betray one’s feelings, because I think parents often overcompensate for having a favorite, by spending time and energy with the neglected child. I guess in the long run it will probably even out. I’m sure there will be some times when I favor one of my girls over the other, and I’m sure that will change over time as we all pass through phases in life. I just hope that I never lose the ability to treasure each one for how beautifully different they are, and teach them to appreciate that in themselves and others.
September 8, 2008
Third Trimester Giggles
Already 28 weeks. I’m officially in the home stretch. And I’m giddy.
For some reason the past few days I have become almost stupidly excited about having this baby. Not that I don’t enjoy being pregnant, but I am so excited to see this little girl, and hold her, and bring her home to meet her big sister. I’m excited to have my house back soon and be home with my girls for a few months.
I’ve started a mental list of what I am going to do as soon as I go out on leave: get my hair cut, get a massage, rearrange the extra bedroom for optimal middle-of-the-night nursing and TV viewing, get the bassinette and pack-n-play set up, wash Boogie’s old clothes and get them put away in her yet-to-be-purchased dresser, decorate for Christmas …
And though normally I may feel a bit overwhelmed with having so much to do in an undetermined amount of time, these are all things that I am looking forward to, that I will enjoy doing, and that will get me even more excited to see this kid. And as much as I was dreading a “Christmas Baby” I’m stoked that this will all be happening during my absolute favorite time of year.
I’m also juiced that I’ll be home with Boogie for a while, just the two of us for hopefully a couple weeks. Time to devote to her, and soak up her squishy-cheeked loveliness before the whirlwind of infancy starts again in my house. We get to go Christmas shopping and sing carols and drink hot chocolate while we snuggle and read books. We get to lounge in our jammies all day if we want to, or get dolled up and go see Christmas lights. We can watch Rudolph cartoons and make paper snowflakes and we have an excuse to get our Christmas tree before Thanksgiving this year!
Watch out people, you know I bake when I’m extra happy, and you will be inundated with Christmas treats, candies, bread, and anything else I can think of. Whoot!
For some reason the past few days I have become almost stupidly excited about having this baby. Not that I don’t enjoy being pregnant, but I am so excited to see this little girl, and hold her, and bring her home to meet her big sister. I’m excited to have my house back soon and be home with my girls for a few months.
I’ve started a mental list of what I am going to do as soon as I go out on leave: get my hair cut, get a massage, rearrange the extra bedroom for optimal middle-of-the-night nursing and TV viewing, get the bassinette and pack-n-play set up, wash Boogie’s old clothes and get them put away in her yet-to-be-purchased dresser, decorate for Christmas …
And though normally I may feel a bit overwhelmed with having so much to do in an undetermined amount of time, these are all things that I am looking forward to, that I will enjoy doing, and that will get me even more excited to see this kid. And as much as I was dreading a “Christmas Baby” I’m stoked that this will all be happening during my absolute favorite time of year.
I’m also juiced that I’ll be home with Boogie for a while, just the two of us for hopefully a couple weeks. Time to devote to her, and soak up her squishy-cheeked loveliness before the whirlwind of infancy starts again in my house. We get to go Christmas shopping and sing carols and drink hot chocolate while we snuggle and read books. We get to lounge in our jammies all day if we want to, or get dolled up and go see Christmas lights. We can watch Rudolph cartoons and make paper snowflakes and we have an excuse to get our Christmas tree before Thanksgiving this year!
Watch out people, you know I bake when I’m extra happy, and you will be inundated with Christmas treats, candies, bread, and anything else I can think of. Whoot!
June 19, 2008
And then this one time....
I still remember my brother lamenting years ago, "Why can't he just be real with me? Who the hell does he think I am, some sidekick friend?"
We had been discussing a friend of his who wasn't doing well. This guy is someone we had both grown up with, and whom he used to be very close to, but due to a stint in jail and some broken bones, he hadn't seen him in a while. My brother was always pissed that people would be fake with him, when he asked "How are you," they would just reply "Fine, you?"
As I walk around the office and overhear, nay eavesdrop, on my coworkers conversations, I am shocked at how often I hear the same stories being repeated verbatim. The same exclamations, the same quotes, everything the same. And it's even worse when I've had a conversation with a person, and then I overhear them working what I had said into their conversation, as if it were their own words.
I'm not so narcisstic to think that the people that I converse with are only taking to me, it's an unrealistic thought, and frankly I don't want to be someone's sole source of venting. But honestly, I'm starting to feel like my brother and wondering how real are the conversations that I share with people, when they say the exact same thing to someone else 5 minutes later. Do people want eveeryone to know so much about them, or am I getting the same canned conversation that everyone else gets?
It's not everyone, but it's often enough to make me wonder why I make the effort to have genuine talks with people. When people ask how the baby is, I'll tell them the latest news, or how her night was yesterday, or something cute she did this morning. But I make an effort to be real, to tell people what's really going on, and to tailor it to their personality, as I relate to them. I try very hard not to have canned responses to people, and maybe that's why I'm not a social butterfly. Maybe if I faked it more, instead of trying to really be present when I am with someone (and of course, on the flip side of that, I am not-so-chatty when I am not feeling well), I would be more agreeable to them?
I guess if there was one "right" way to interact, we'd all be doing it. I am constantly amazed at how people change depending on the sitiation, especially to see how they act in different groups of people. I think it normal and quite functional to alter your personality slightly to accommodate your surroundings, and I don't know where this musing on conversation fits in there, but it's definitely fascinating to me. Like, do they realize what they are doing? Do I do the same thing? How has this action come about? What is it's evolutionary purpose? Is telling the same thing to multiple people some sort of processing mechanism, or is it simply a way to bond? What about when you tell the same thing over and over to someone, what is the purpose of that?
I don't know, but my head hurts, and my back hurts and I'm bored. Maybe I should go tell someone?
We had been discussing a friend of his who wasn't doing well. This guy is someone we had both grown up with, and whom he used to be very close to, but due to a stint in jail and some broken bones, he hadn't seen him in a while. My brother was always pissed that people would be fake with him, when he asked "How are you," they would just reply "Fine, you?"
As I walk around the office and overhear, nay eavesdrop, on my coworkers conversations, I am shocked at how often I hear the same stories being repeated verbatim. The same exclamations, the same quotes, everything the same. And it's even worse when I've had a conversation with a person, and then I overhear them working what I had said into their conversation, as if it were their own words.
I'm not so narcisstic to think that the people that I converse with are only taking to me, it's an unrealistic thought, and frankly I don't want to be someone's sole source of venting. But honestly, I'm starting to feel like my brother and wondering how real are the conversations that I share with people, when they say the exact same thing to someone else 5 minutes later. Do people want eveeryone to know so much about them, or am I getting the same canned conversation that everyone else gets?
It's not everyone, but it's often enough to make me wonder why I make the effort to have genuine talks with people. When people ask how the baby is, I'll tell them the latest news, or how her night was yesterday, or something cute she did this morning. But I make an effort to be real, to tell people what's really going on, and to tailor it to their personality, as I relate to them. I try very hard not to have canned responses to people, and maybe that's why I'm not a social butterfly. Maybe if I faked it more, instead of trying to really be present when I am with someone (and of course, on the flip side of that, I am not-so-chatty when I am not feeling well), I would be more agreeable to them?
I guess if there was one "right" way to interact, we'd all be doing it. I am constantly amazed at how people change depending on the sitiation, especially to see how they act in different groups of people. I think it normal and quite functional to alter your personality slightly to accommodate your surroundings, and I don't know where this musing on conversation fits in there, but it's definitely fascinating to me. Like, do they realize what they are doing? Do I do the same thing? How has this action come about? What is it's evolutionary purpose? Is telling the same thing to multiple people some sort of processing mechanism, or is it simply a way to bond? What about when you tell the same thing over and over to someone, what is the purpose of that?
I don't know, but my head hurts, and my back hurts and I'm bored. Maybe I should go tell someone?
June 2, 2008
Breakfast Dilemma
So, the figlet has completely destroyed my ideal pregnancy: healthy food, excercise and rest.
My biggest problems with food are sort of stupid sounding, but really quite an obstacle to work around. I can't eat and drink at the same time, and I can't stomach sweet foods. Much.
Think on my pain for a second, will you?
No milk and cookies. No cereal. No soup. That's preactically what I loved on when I was pregnant with Boogie. No caffeine-free Coke with my pizza. No super-spicy food.
Okay, so I can deal. Takes a bit of maneuvering, but the kicker is the sweet food part. No Chinese food. No yogurt. No breakfast pastries. No oatmeal. Pretty much no breakfast unless I have time to cook (But because of the whole not-sleeping-at-night thing, I can't drag myself out of bed early enough to make real food). I'm living off sandwiches (but oh! Just heard I'm not supposed to be eating deli meat) so let's make that grilled cheese with tomato sandwiches, and real dinner food. Which sucks for breakfast.
I did figure out I can do sweet with salty, as in English muffin with butter, and half a yogurt. Or waffles with syrup and fried eggs. The "sickness" comes back if I don't follow these rules. How twisted is that?
And I think since I'm not eating enough, I don't have energy to exercise. And because I'm not exercising, I'm not sleeping well. Vicious, vicious circle.
My biggest problems with food are sort of stupid sounding, but really quite an obstacle to work around. I can't eat and drink at the same time, and I can't stomach sweet foods. Much.
Think on my pain for a second, will you?
No milk and cookies. No cereal. No soup. That's preactically what I loved on when I was pregnant with Boogie. No caffeine-free Coke with my pizza. No super-spicy food.
Okay, so I can deal. Takes a bit of maneuvering, but the kicker is the sweet food part. No Chinese food. No yogurt. No breakfast pastries. No oatmeal. Pretty much no breakfast unless I have time to cook (But because of the whole not-sleeping-at-night thing, I can't drag myself out of bed early enough to make real food). I'm living off sandwiches (but oh! Just heard I'm not supposed to be eating deli meat) so let's make that grilled cheese with tomato sandwiches, and real dinner food. Which sucks for breakfast.
I did figure out I can do sweet with salty, as in English muffin with butter, and half a yogurt. Or waffles with syrup and fried eggs. The "sickness" comes back if I don't follow these rules. How twisted is that?
And I think since I'm not eating enough, I don't have energy to exercise. And because I'm not exercising, I'm not sleeping well. Vicious, vicious circle.
April 11, 2008
Yoo-hoo! Universe? Are you listening?
I've wondered a lot if a person can be unlucky, or just lacking luck? I don't want to call myself unlucky, tradjedy does not befall me at every step, and I'm thankful every day for the health and safety of me and my family and friends... BUT.
I am most definitely lacking in the luck department.
I still haven't won anything. Remember November 2006? Six months after my daughter was born, and I managed, even through traveling to the Appalachians, to post every single day in that month on this blog. I know you remember, right? You may also recall that I won! I won a prize! And then let's also recall the fact that my prize was never mailed to me. Ever.
And the crappy-est part is that I'm surrounded by people who are receiving massive blessings-in-disguise and money. Money, you hear? That's what I'm wating for. To my pals who burned down thier kitchen and got a complete remodel and the rest of the house painted for $1000? I'm happy for you. And Tere and P who each had/will have 4 month paid severace (aka vacation) plus unemployment to look for a new job, that's awesome. And Mom, I'm sorry your car got totalled, but damn! That was a nice check they gave you for a new one!
So now I ask: what about me? Mr./Ms. Universe, I'm totally waiting here. I would love a new car, or a paid vacation (and no, maternity leave does not count because I'm only paid for half, and it is faaaar from a vacation), or even just a nice chunk of change because.... well, because I'm me. And I think that I deserve something nice once in a while. Something that I didn't buy for myself, or ask P to buy for me.
The last thing I remember winning was Dumbo and Cinderella VHS's at Disneyland. When I was like 7. And it was my mom's winning ticket she gave to me, not even mine. And karma? Dude, I've been totally beng nice to people, letting them merge in front of me, and helping little old ladies cross the street... Okay, not that last one, but I always say hi to the old lady next door and bring her cookies when I bake.
So please? Can I get something for nothing? Or something BIG for verry little?
Sincerely,
Aletta C
I am most definitely lacking in the luck department.
I still haven't won anything. Remember November 2006? Six months after my daughter was born, and I managed, even through traveling to the Appalachians, to post every single day in that month on this blog. I know you remember, right? You may also recall that I won! I won a prize! And then let's also recall the fact that my prize was never mailed to me. Ever.
And the crappy-est part is that I'm surrounded by people who are receiving massive blessings-in-disguise and money. Money, you hear? That's what I'm wating for. To my pals who burned down thier kitchen and got a complete remodel and the rest of the house painted for $1000? I'm happy for you. And Tere and P who each had/will have 4 month paid severace (aka vacation) plus unemployment to look for a new job, that's awesome. And Mom, I'm sorry your car got totalled, but damn! That was a nice check they gave you for a new one!
So now I ask: what about me? Mr./Ms. Universe, I'm totally waiting here. I would love a new car, or a paid vacation (and no, maternity leave does not count because I'm only paid for half, and it is faaaar from a vacation), or even just a nice chunk of change because.... well, because I'm me. And I think that I deserve something nice once in a while. Something that I didn't buy for myself, or ask P to buy for me.
The last thing I remember winning was Dumbo and Cinderella VHS's at Disneyland. When I was like 7. And it was my mom's winning ticket she gave to me, not even mine. And karma? Dude, I've been totally beng nice to people, letting them merge in front of me, and helping little old ladies cross the street... Okay, not that last one, but I always say hi to the old lady next door and bring her cookies when I bake.
So please? Can I get something for nothing? Or something BIG for verry little?
Sincerely,
Aletta C
April 8, 2008
To Help Me Remember Loving Guidance
I was having a conversation with myself this morning (nothing new there) trying to figure out why I thought that I am a good mom. The phrase that kept running through my mind was "She's happy, healthy, and I love spending time with her." Nothing else.
I couldn't quantify the things that I do for her, putting her needs in front of my own, the money spent or any other countable list of perks she enjoys by having me in her life. And it's not that I don't, but from various conversations and articles read in the last week, and contemplations on how the heck we are going to make it all work with 2, I don't think those material things or self-sacrafice necessarily make a person a good parent. They definitely come along with the job, but I judge myself as a parent based on how my daughter lives in the world. If she's thriving, that means I'm doing a good job.
When I was pregnant with Taryn, I think a lot of people probably questioned my ability to take care of another person. I wasn't the mother hen of the group, and while I enjoyed my friends' kids, there would come a point when I just had enough. And it's funny, because I still feel that way about other people's kids, sometimes I just don't want to hear them anymore, but I don't with Taryn. I think that's a fault many parents have, excusing their own child's annoying habits and attacking other parents when their kid does the same thing, but I've striven to help Taryn be a child that people like to be around.
Some people are rude and call her a brat, but those people have unrealistic expectations for a toddler. Some people have issues with some of her more agggressive actions because they don't realize that it's developmentally appropriate and they don't see their children taking equally aggressive actions towards her. And then there are other people, like my brother Jeff, who simply adores her. And even though I think he expects a lot from her, I see her rising to those expectations and becoming an even more engaging, charming, intelligent, manually dexterous little girl because she has loving guidance in her life.
And I realized that having expectations for your child, helping him or her to become a good person, caring enough to tell her when she's doing something wrong, teaching him how to act around other people, these are all major parts of being a good parent. It isn't enough to give them what they want, to make sure you have enough toys and a fully-funded college education. It isn't enough to have your kid decked out in brand-name clothes and doing tons of extra curricular activities.
I think I'm a good parent because I'm trying to instill values in my daughter, to teach her an honorable way to live, how to express herself without hitting or biting, to listen to someone of authority when they tell her not to run in the street, to love books, and foster her creativity and teach her to be compassionate towards others and be kind to animals. To generally be a good person. That's what I want for her, and that is what I am actively teaching her. And I try to surround her with people who will continue that teaching with her and show her other ways of living and new foods and meet new and interesting people.
I couldn't quantify the things that I do for her, putting her needs in front of my own, the money spent or any other countable list of perks she enjoys by having me in her life. And it's not that I don't, but from various conversations and articles read in the last week, and contemplations on how the heck we are going to make it all work with 2, I don't think those material things or self-sacrafice necessarily make a person a good parent. They definitely come along with the job, but I judge myself as a parent based on how my daughter lives in the world. If she's thriving, that means I'm doing a good job.
When I was pregnant with Taryn, I think a lot of people probably questioned my ability to take care of another person. I wasn't the mother hen of the group, and while I enjoyed my friends' kids, there would come a point when I just had enough. And it's funny, because I still feel that way about other people's kids, sometimes I just don't want to hear them anymore, but I don't with Taryn. I think that's a fault many parents have, excusing their own child's annoying habits and attacking other parents when their kid does the same thing, but I've striven to help Taryn be a child that people like to be around.
Some people are rude and call her a brat, but those people have unrealistic expectations for a toddler. Some people have issues with some of her more agggressive actions because they don't realize that it's developmentally appropriate and they don't see their children taking equally aggressive actions towards her. And then there are other people, like my brother Jeff, who simply adores her. And even though I think he expects a lot from her, I see her rising to those expectations and becoming an even more engaging, charming, intelligent, manually dexterous little girl because she has loving guidance in her life.
And I realized that having expectations for your child, helping him or her to become a good person, caring enough to tell her when she's doing something wrong, teaching him how to act around other people, these are all major parts of being a good parent. It isn't enough to give them what they want, to make sure you have enough toys and a fully-funded college education. It isn't enough to have your kid decked out in brand-name clothes and doing tons of extra curricular activities.
I think I'm a good parent because I'm trying to instill values in my daughter, to teach her an honorable way to live, how to express herself without hitting or biting, to listen to someone of authority when they tell her not to run in the street, to love books, and foster her creativity and teach her to be compassionate towards others and be kind to animals. To generally be a good person. That's what I want for her, and that is what I am actively teaching her. And I try to surround her with people who will continue that teaching with her and show her other ways of living and new foods and meet new and interesting people.
March 26, 2008
Babies on the Brain
Okay, okay. I'll have time to obsess about babies when I'm pregnant next time. In the words of a friend yesterday, "Why are you rushing it?"
So here are my top 10 reasons I want to be pregnant by Summer:
1. Energy. I just don't see myself as a 30-something running around after a toddler.
2. Spacing. If the next one is less than 3 years younger than Boogie, they have a better chance of being friends, getting to play together, and growing up together. I don't want one kid leaving high school before the other one is out of middle.
3. Sleep. I'm lacking sleep now, not quite deprived, but I'd rather not get used to full nights of sleep, then go back to getting up every few hours to nurse.
4. Money. Yep, we're pretty much broke right now. I don't really want to get used to having money again, then shelling out thousands of dollars per year for child care, diapers and toys again later.
5. Jojo. The girl is going to grow up one day and want to get married. I told her she can't leave until I have anoter baby, and both kids are in school, at least part time, so see? I'm trying to help her out too.
6. Body. I'm so not motivated to get in shape when I know I might gain 40 pounds by the end of the year. Better to pop them all out in a row, then get my ass in shape.
7. Space. Two kids close in age, even opposite genders, can share a room. I'm not going to be cruel and make my 10 year old daughter share a room with her 5 year old brother. I could, but that would suck for both of them.
8. Marriage. Having a young child is a strain on my realtionship with P. I'd hate to drag that out over years and years.
9. Travel. I'm dying to take trips with my kids, show them all the amazing things the world has to offer, but I'm not doing it with little babies. I want them to be old enough to somewhat appreciate the different cultures, to be able to go more than 5 hours wihtout a nap, if needed, to be out of diapers so I'm not lugging a pound of wipies wherever we go.
10. Mood. I love being a Mommy. I loved being pregnant. Two will be harder than one, but I know the good outweighs the bad, and I'm willing to sacrafice my social life, partying, cute shoes, etc, to be a Mommy a second time around.
The more I think about it, the better I think it is to have them close in age. I'm good with consistency. If I consistently don't sleep, don't have a clean house, and don't have money, I'm fine with that. But going from one extreme to the other, then back and forth a bit is too much for me, I think. We all choose to do it differently, but I'm glad I started young, and I hope to be finished by the time I'm 30.
So here are my top 10 reasons I want to be pregnant by Summer:
1. Energy. I just don't see myself as a 30-something running around after a toddler.
2. Spacing. If the next one is less than 3 years younger than Boogie, they have a better chance of being friends, getting to play together, and growing up together. I don't want one kid leaving high school before the other one is out of middle.
3. Sleep. I'm lacking sleep now, not quite deprived, but I'd rather not get used to full nights of sleep, then go back to getting up every few hours to nurse.
4. Money. Yep, we're pretty much broke right now. I don't really want to get used to having money again, then shelling out thousands of dollars per year for child care, diapers and toys again later.
5. Jojo. The girl is going to grow up one day and want to get married. I told her she can't leave until I have anoter baby, and both kids are in school, at least part time, so see? I'm trying to help her out too.
6. Body. I'm so not motivated to get in shape when I know I might gain 40 pounds by the end of the year. Better to pop them all out in a row, then get my ass in shape.
7. Space. Two kids close in age, even opposite genders, can share a room. I'm not going to be cruel and make my 10 year old daughter share a room with her 5 year old brother. I could, but that would suck for both of them.
8. Marriage. Having a young child is a strain on my realtionship with P. I'd hate to drag that out over years and years.
9. Travel. I'm dying to take trips with my kids, show them all the amazing things the world has to offer, but I'm not doing it with little babies. I want them to be old enough to somewhat appreciate the different cultures, to be able to go more than 5 hours wihtout a nap, if needed, to be out of diapers so I'm not lugging a pound of wipies wherever we go.
10. Mood. I love being a Mommy. I loved being pregnant. Two will be harder than one, but I know the good outweighs the bad, and I'm willing to sacrafice my social life, partying, cute shoes, etc, to be a Mommy a second time around.
The more I think about it, the better I think it is to have them close in age. I'm good with consistency. If I consistently don't sleep, don't have a clean house, and don't have money, I'm fine with that. But going from one extreme to the other, then back and forth a bit is too much for me, I think. We all choose to do it differently, but I'm glad I started young, and I hope to be finished by the time I'm 30.
March 25, 2008
Where I Ramble Emotionally About Marriage
I don't know how to wrap my head around the feelings I have when a couple splits up. Part of it is fear, how can P and I expect to maintain a marriage if they couldn't do it? Part of it is worry, because what if they are making a mistake? Did they go to therapy? Did they try hard enough to work it out?
And part of it is envy. To be willing to do something like that to make each other happier. I don't think P and I are mature enough for that.
I'm not talking about envy in the sense that I wish I were single, I can't imagine having to deal with the BS of dating again, of searching, waiting, and in the end having the same issues that we have now. I like the routine we have in our lives, I like the challenge of breaking out of that routine every once in a while to do something exciting, but then to be able to fall back into the comfort of a long-term relationship.
But I envy valuing myself enough to take that plunge into the unknown (though for this particular couple, who were married later in life and already knew the single life, I guess it's not really unknown), to give up so much that I had worked for in the last few years to start over, hoping for something better. I don't doubt that they still love each other, but it wasn't working, and they decided to call it quits.
At times I have thought it would be easier to be single, to do it alone, and do it my way, but I'm willing to sacrafice control in order to maintain what we've built together. The rough times have thus far been temporary. Yes, there are lingering issues, but when I took my vows I meant them. I'm not giving up without a fight.
In the larger context, I think that a lot of people are giving up too soon. This isn't a judgement, because there is no way I will ever know all the dynamics of the relationship, I can never know all the bits and pieces they brought to their union, and how hard they fought to make it work. I do know that a lot more people are getting divorced now compared to 30 years ago. I do know a lot of children are suffering the loss of a parent.
And I also know that the divorce process is easier than trying to work it out.
But I'm bummed out. I never saw it coming. I thought they were one of those quirky couples who, although very different from each other, they were madly in love after all these years, and they were going to stay together forever. I keep coming back to it in my mind. All week it's beein weighing on me, and not just this couple, but others as well, it's like a wave crashing over us and some couples are being washed apart by it.
And I wonder how deep P and I's roots are, what our foundation has been built on that has held us steady for so long. What would be the stressor that breaks us? Our marriage is riddled in conflict, but somehow we've been able to get past the obstacles. Us. Both children of divorce. Is it our pasts that make us unwilling to give up the fight? Is it Boogie that softens us to change? What the hell is it that casuses some people to divorce, and others to stuck together?
What is it?
And part of it is envy. To be willing to do something like that to make each other happier. I don't think P and I are mature enough for that.
I'm not talking about envy in the sense that I wish I were single, I can't imagine having to deal with the BS of dating again, of searching, waiting, and in the end having the same issues that we have now. I like the routine we have in our lives, I like the challenge of breaking out of that routine every once in a while to do something exciting, but then to be able to fall back into the comfort of a long-term relationship.
But I envy valuing myself enough to take that plunge into the unknown (though for this particular couple, who were married later in life and already knew the single life, I guess it's not really unknown), to give up so much that I had worked for in the last few years to start over, hoping for something better. I don't doubt that they still love each other, but it wasn't working, and they decided to call it quits.
At times I have thought it would be easier to be single, to do it alone, and do it my way, but I'm willing to sacrafice control in order to maintain what we've built together. The rough times have thus far been temporary. Yes, there are lingering issues, but when I took my vows I meant them. I'm not giving up without a fight.
In the larger context, I think that a lot of people are giving up too soon. This isn't a judgement, because there is no way I will ever know all the dynamics of the relationship, I can never know all the bits and pieces they brought to their union, and how hard they fought to make it work. I do know that a lot more people are getting divorced now compared to 30 years ago. I do know a lot of children are suffering the loss of a parent.
And I also know that the divorce process is easier than trying to work it out.
But I'm bummed out. I never saw it coming. I thought they were one of those quirky couples who, although very different from each other, they were madly in love after all these years, and they were going to stay together forever. I keep coming back to it in my mind. All week it's beein weighing on me, and not just this couple, but others as well, it's like a wave crashing over us and some couples are being washed apart by it.
And I wonder how deep P and I's roots are, what our foundation has been built on that has held us steady for so long. What would be the stressor that breaks us? Our marriage is riddled in conflict, but somehow we've been able to get past the obstacles. Us. Both children of divorce. Is it our pasts that make us unwilling to give up the fight? Is it Boogie that softens us to change? What the hell is it that casuses some people to divorce, and others to stuck together?
What is it?
March 17, 2008
On Friendship
Sometimes you grow apart as friends, and there is an awkward period while you redefine the relationship. If things go well, if we are okay with change, we come out on top with a relationship just as strong, or stronger, than the one we started with.
Some people start out not wanting to be friends, and somewhere along the road realize that we have a lot in common, that we can learn from each other, and grow into a natural comfort with each other.
And some other times, no matter how much you want it to work, it just doesn't. Some times we want different things. Sometimes I can't make the commitment to nurture another friendship, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm getting enough in return for the effort I'm expending. Often I feel like the one waiting to be granted admittance to this exclusive club, to become a friend, rather than just an acquaintance, but I'm not okay waiting anymore, so I give up and stop trying, and the friendship melts into a fond memory of the past.
Whatever path it takes, I'm learning to be okay with it, rather than fight for what I want, I'm trying to allow it to happen as it is meant to be. It's hard to let go of what I want, but sometimes it's not what's best for me.
Some people start out not wanting to be friends, and somewhere along the road realize that we have a lot in common, that we can learn from each other, and grow into a natural comfort with each other.
And some other times, no matter how much you want it to work, it just doesn't. Some times we want different things. Sometimes I can't make the commitment to nurture another friendship, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm getting enough in return for the effort I'm expending. Often I feel like the one waiting to be granted admittance to this exclusive club, to become a friend, rather than just an acquaintance, but I'm not okay waiting anymore, so I give up and stop trying, and the friendship melts into a fond memory of the past.
Whatever path it takes, I'm learning to be okay with it, rather than fight for what I want, I'm trying to allow it to happen as it is meant to be. It's hard to let go of what I want, but sometimes it's not what's best for me.
February 26, 2008
Fear
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.
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 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 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 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?
January 30, 2008
Blurbs
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being manipulated? No? Well, let me explain…
I don’t mind being asked for favors, really, I relish it because it makes me feel important, and needed, and useful, and I do like doing things for people. But I abhor when people try to get me to do things in a backhanded way, guilt-tripping, dropping hints, being wishy-washy…
Hate it.
Especially with my clients. It’s one thing to have a sad story and I’m going to feel bad regardless of what the outcome it, but when you try to use that sad story to get me to do favors for you, then my sympathy turns to anger, real-ass-quick. Because not only and I not willing to lose my job so you can get more faster, I’m not willing to sell my soul for a months’ worth of benefits.
Which makes me think of a conversation I had recently with my dear husband, (whom I love dearly and have to do something real nice for Valentine’s Day because he’s been living with a bitch-and-rant wife for the last week. Sorry Punkin) in which we tried to figure out if the end result really can justify the means.
If I do something bad, maybe illegal, or just grimy, is it balanced out by the fact that I’m doing it for a good reason? Which then begs the argument of if I do something good, but for a crappy reason, where do I stand karmically?
This sounds familiar… but I have it running through my head constantly, slapping my brain around like the little loose end of a movie in an old-school projector.
***
And I also wanted to ask, like, why do I still get my jollies seeing men oogle sometimes, even when they are a bit skeevy? One double take can get my mind out of a downward spiral as long as he isn’t too creepy, but if he’s with his lady-friend, it pisses me off.
***
I was talking to a coworker the other day, one who drives 2 Mercedes and is always coming to work with designer bags and such. She commented on my boots, and I started bragging that I had bought them years ago at Payless for like $12. She got this shocked look on her face and told me I shouldn’t talk so loud so people wouldn’t know they were so cheap. And I had to tell her, Girl, I am damn proud of my $12 boots that after 5 tears they still get compliments. But she just looked flabbergasted, like, how the hell can you be proud to be wearing such cheap shoes?. Hehe.
It got me thinking though of my pipe-dreams to drive a nice car and carry a Prada purse. I really don’t know what I would do if I was rich. I joke around that I would buy an x5, but really? I don’t know if I could live with myself paying so much for a freaking car. I mean, I drive 20 minutes to and from work every day. And that includes going home at lunch to eat. I’d be juiced to get a Highlander Hybrid and a pair of real leather boots, and then I’d have probably $40k left over, instead of buying a luxury car. Yes, it would be nice, but I don’t give a damn what the Joneses think of me, they’ve seem by POS Mazda every day for the last 3 years, and I don’t think a nice car will change the bargain lover that I am at heart.
Laaa-deee-deee-daaaa….
I’m waiting to go to an all-day training, so excuse the blurbs. No time to get into the nitty-gritty details of something. Except!
In my mind: hard work + sacrifice = rewards.
Except in my life: hard work + sacrifice – fun = debt
Whatever happened to being rewarded for your hard work? Doesn’t it sometimes feel like we work, and work, and work, and we don’t ever go anywhere? I work 160 hours per month, and all I’ve been able to do with that is pay down my debt. Credit card, mortgage, school loans… I feel like I’m working for nothing, but then if I wasn’t working, I’d be screwed. I wanted to wait to have another baby until the credit cards were halved, and my school loans were paid off, but DAMN GINA. I don’t want my kids to be 10 years apart!
*sigh*
No one ever told me being an adult would be so hard. But I do have to be appreciative for what we have, because every night in Marin, there are 1600 people who don’t have a home. And that doesn’t include people who share a room between themselves and their kids, paying $500 per month to have ONE ROOM. They work, and they have nothing to show for it. They can’t go to school to better themselves, because they have to work to feed their kids.
I’m going to find a volunteer venture. I’m not sure what yet, but I have too much to not give back. I feel better now.
I don’t mind being asked for favors, really, I relish it because it makes me feel important, and needed, and useful, and I do like doing things for people. But I abhor when people try to get me to do things in a backhanded way, guilt-tripping, dropping hints, being wishy-washy…
Hate it.
Especially with my clients. It’s one thing to have a sad story and I’m going to feel bad regardless of what the outcome it, but when you try to use that sad story to get me to do favors for you, then my sympathy turns to anger, real-ass-quick. Because not only and I not willing to lose my job so you can get more faster, I’m not willing to sell my soul for a months’ worth of benefits.
Which makes me think of a conversation I had recently with my dear husband, (whom I love dearly and have to do something real nice for Valentine’s Day because he’s been living with a bitch-and-rant wife for the last week. Sorry Punkin) in which we tried to figure out if the end result really can justify the means.
If I do something bad, maybe illegal, or just grimy, is it balanced out by the fact that I’m doing it for a good reason? Which then begs the argument of if I do something good, but for a crappy reason, where do I stand karmically?
This sounds familiar… but I have it running through my head constantly, slapping my brain around like the little loose end of a movie in an old-school projector.
***
And I also wanted to ask, like, why do I still get my jollies seeing men oogle sometimes, even when they are a bit skeevy? One double take can get my mind out of a downward spiral as long as he isn’t too creepy, but if he’s with his lady-friend, it pisses me off.
***
I was talking to a coworker the other day, one who drives 2 Mercedes and is always coming to work with designer bags and such. She commented on my boots, and I started bragging that I had bought them years ago at Payless for like $12. She got this shocked look on her face and told me I shouldn’t talk so loud so people wouldn’t know they were so cheap. And I had to tell her, Girl, I am damn proud of my $12 boots that after 5 tears they still get compliments. But she just looked flabbergasted, like, how the hell can you be proud to be wearing such cheap shoes?. Hehe.
It got me thinking though of my pipe-dreams to drive a nice car and carry a Prada purse. I really don’t know what I would do if I was rich. I joke around that I would buy an x5, but really? I don’t know if I could live with myself paying so much for a freaking car. I mean, I drive 20 minutes to and from work every day. And that includes going home at lunch to eat. I’d be juiced to get a Highlander Hybrid and a pair of real leather boots, and then I’d have probably $40k left over, instead of buying a luxury car. Yes, it would be nice, but I don’t give a damn what the Joneses think of me, they’ve seem by POS Mazda every day for the last 3 years, and I don’t think a nice car will change the bargain lover that I am at heart.
Laaa-deee-deee-daaaa….
I’m waiting to go to an all-day training, so excuse the blurbs. No time to get into the nitty-gritty details of something. Except!
In my mind: hard work + sacrifice = rewards.
Except in my life: hard work + sacrifice – fun = debt
Whatever happened to being rewarded for your hard work? Doesn’t it sometimes feel like we work, and work, and work, and we don’t ever go anywhere? I work 160 hours per month, and all I’ve been able to do with that is pay down my debt. Credit card, mortgage, school loans… I feel like I’m working for nothing, but then if I wasn’t working, I’d be screwed. I wanted to wait to have another baby until the credit cards were halved, and my school loans were paid off, but DAMN GINA. I don’t want my kids to be 10 years apart!
*sigh*
No one ever told me being an adult would be so hard. But I do have to be appreciative for what we have, because every night in Marin, there are 1600 people who don’t have a home. And that doesn’t include people who share a room between themselves and their kids, paying $500 per month to have ONE ROOM. They work, and they have nothing to show for it. They can’t go to school to better themselves, because they have to work to feed their kids.
I’m going to find a volunteer venture. I’m not sure what yet, but I have too much to not give back. I feel better now.
January 29, 2008
Anything Else I Can BItch About?
I don’t feel hormonal, just sensitive.
Boogie hasn’t been on her Mommy trip lately, the little Booger keeps yelling for her Papa, and when he picks her up, she waves bye-bye to me. It’s hard. When she’s clingy, sometimes I ache to get 5 minutes of peace, even if I have to lock myself in the bathroom. But then when she doesn’t want me around, I get butt-hurt.
I’ve had shit luck with doctor’s appointments this week. Evidently when Kaiser cancels an appointment for you, they don’t let you know. So I was at work stressing Monday because I thought my intake schedule was switched to a paper-day, and I found out at 8:07 that I had 3 intakes scheduled, and had to leave by 10:30 to get her there on time. Then I called Kaiser at 8:30, sat on hold for 10 minutes only to find out that they had canceled the appointment since she got her shot at her 18 month check-up in December. So I, being a rational and time-crunched individual asked if the next time they cancelled an appointment of mine, could they let me know?
No.
Evidently there is no where in their system to make a notation of that. Obviously no where to make a note not to call with an appointment reminder two days before, when it’s already been cancelled either.
After that, I’m just fucked-off, I can’t fix two of my Cash Aid cases because it’s blackout and the craptastic old computer system we use is dumb for the next two days.
P is having issues with his employment history due to his sort-of-shady past. Actually, I just called him (hello reporter! See this fact-checking I do?) He said that the credit check they ran says he still works at NorthFork, Greenpoint and CapitalOne. Which are all the same company. Doh.
I have 2 birthdays this weekend, and a shot-gun wedding in a couple weeks to attend, help plan a bachelorette party for, and get my family gussied up in time to attend.
And this nausea is starting to irk me. It’s like being pregnant without the big boobs and still having Aunt Flo come to visit. Sucky.
Boogie hasn’t been on her Mommy trip lately, the little Booger keeps yelling for her Papa, and when he picks her up, she waves bye-bye to me. It’s hard. When she’s clingy, sometimes I ache to get 5 minutes of peace, even if I have to lock myself in the bathroom. But then when she doesn’t want me around, I get butt-hurt.
I’ve had shit luck with doctor’s appointments this week. Evidently when Kaiser cancels an appointment for you, they don’t let you know. So I was at work stressing Monday because I thought my intake schedule was switched to a paper-day, and I found out at 8:07 that I had 3 intakes scheduled, and had to leave by 10:30 to get her there on time. Then I called Kaiser at 8:30, sat on hold for 10 minutes only to find out that they had canceled the appointment since she got her shot at her 18 month check-up in December. So I, being a rational and time-crunched individual asked if the next time they cancelled an appointment of mine, could they let me know?
No.
Evidently there is no where in their system to make a notation of that. Obviously no where to make a note not to call with an appointment reminder two days before, when it’s already been cancelled either.
After that, I’m just fucked-off, I can’t fix two of my Cash Aid cases because it’s blackout and the craptastic old computer system we use is dumb for the next two days.
P is having issues with his employment history due to his sort-of-shady past. Actually, I just called him (hello reporter! See this fact-checking I do?) He said that the credit check they ran says he still works at NorthFork, Greenpoint and CapitalOne. Which are all the same company. Doh.
I have 2 birthdays this weekend, and a shot-gun wedding in a couple weeks to attend, help plan a bachelorette party for, and get my family gussied up in time to attend.
And this nausea is starting to irk me. It’s like being pregnant without the big boobs and still having Aunt Flo come to visit. Sucky.
January 8, 2008
Once Again, I'm Stuck
One of the things that I hate the most about myself is my complete inability to express myself verbally. Now I know that’s not fair to the rest of the world, and I know it’s odd considering I worked in a call center for a few years, but I honestly believe the synapses connecting my brain to my mouth are fucked up.
To overcome this deficit, I’ve learned to slow myself down. I feel like my brain processes too quickly for my mouth to catch up, and the only way for me to be coherent is to breathe deeply, plan my points, and calmly deliver whatever message I’m holding onto. The problem really arises when I’m emotional. I can’t control my nervous system as well as some people, hence the anxiety and depression, and unlike some people with the same afflictions, I can’t express myself in words either.
So I’ve gotten in the habit of writing things down, not only to process my emotions, like on this blog, but also to try to get my message across in a semi-coherent fashion. But the problem then becomes that the recipient of my message is left holding my words without my emotions, and it’s gotten me in crap situations over and over again. Even when I edit the original text to be more reader-friendly and less emotion-driven, I still seem to screw it up.
And I realize when I write that I’ve been holding a lot back for a long time, and it’s like a dam breaking for me. All those things that I’ve been trying to say but haven’t had the words for, come pouring out and my simple note turns into an angry diatribe and really it’s an excuse to vent, and it’s inexcusable because nobody should have to be subjected to my narcissistic rages, and yet the people closest to me are.
And I don’t know what to do about it.
To overcome this deficit, I’ve learned to slow myself down. I feel like my brain processes too quickly for my mouth to catch up, and the only way for me to be coherent is to breathe deeply, plan my points, and calmly deliver whatever message I’m holding onto. The problem really arises when I’m emotional. I can’t control my nervous system as well as some people, hence the anxiety and depression, and unlike some people with the same afflictions, I can’t express myself in words either.
So I’ve gotten in the habit of writing things down, not only to process my emotions, like on this blog, but also to try to get my message across in a semi-coherent fashion. But the problem then becomes that the recipient of my message is left holding my words without my emotions, and it’s gotten me in crap situations over and over again. Even when I edit the original text to be more reader-friendly and less emotion-driven, I still seem to screw it up.
And I realize when I write that I’ve been holding a lot back for a long time, and it’s like a dam breaking for me. All those things that I’ve been trying to say but haven’t had the words for, come pouring out and my simple note turns into an angry diatribe and really it’s an excuse to vent, and it’s inexcusable because nobody should have to be subjected to my narcissistic rages, and yet the people closest to me are.
And I don’t know what to do about it.
January 1, 2008
Broken
The salty-sweet taste of lust fills my mouth
after all these years, I still want you
but shouldn't it be something deeper?
I'm falling head over heels every day
but not in love with you
only into my own pit of despair.
If love is the absence of disgust
I'm halfway there. But if it is more
than the sum of these parts, I'm lost.
And I'm fighting the inevitable.
I don't want to be like them.
I don't want to hurt like them.
But I don't know if I can stay and fight.
For us. For what? Only for her.
Or if I should leave.
Something is missing, we both know
the physicality is covering up a hole.
I don't know if I care enough to stay.
So one day at a time. And one day
you won't be enough to keep me here.
It's nothing you've done.
I'm the broken one.
after all these years, I still want you
but shouldn't it be something deeper?
I'm falling head over heels every day
but not in love with you
only into my own pit of despair.
If love is the absence of disgust
I'm halfway there. But if it is more
than the sum of these parts, I'm lost.
And I'm fighting the inevitable.
I don't want to be like them.
I don't want to hurt like them.
But I don't know if I can stay and fight.
For us. For what? Only for her.
Or if I should leave.
Something is missing, we both know
the physicality is covering up a hole.
I don't know if I care enough to stay.
So one day at a time. And one day
you won't be enough to keep me here.
It's nothing you've done.
I'm the broken one.
December 20, 2007
Closed Doors
(It's a long one... just to warn you)
Sometimes it jumps up and smacks you in the face that you are different from the people around you.
Mostly, I don’t consciously think about those differences. I skate through life with the assumption that people who look like me are treated like I am, because I’m self-centered like that. It’s sort of like forgetting that other people still exist when you aren’t with them, assuming a long-lost friend is the same person they were when you knew them, because, they can’t change if you aren’t there to see it. Right?
But once in a while, it becomes blaringly obvious that we are not a homogenous society. And much as the US has become a “melting pot” there are still those people who are not as accepting as others and maybe it’s an unconscious reaction to a perceived difference, based on skin color or gender, or a prejudicial assumption about a person, but we people of color are treated differently than our white counterparts.
It’s a good sign to me that white people assume we are treated the same, and that people of color receive the same benefits as they do, but it’s also disturbing that they are oblivious to the discrimination that we deal with on a frequent basis. I think it’s positive because it shows that they themselves don’t believe that we deserve less, but it also creates a divide between us because there is a huge part of me, a major influence on my past and present, that they can’t understand.
And really, this county is more accepting of racial differences than other places that I have lived, but I get the feeling that a lot of it, especially with older generations, is a front. They are courteous when you are a customer in their store and they know you’re going to be putting your money in their pockets. They are polite when you are in a position of authority to help them. But many are also blatantly racist when they make an assumption about your heritage, your economic situation, your marital status, or whatever. Sometimes they make racist remarks about a culture they assume you are not connected to. Sometimes they treat you with disdain because they assume you don’t deserve their respect.
This all came about during a conversation this morning in which a blonde-haired, blue-eyed coworker of mine looked perplexed when I pointed out that when I was pregnant, people in our building assumed that I was here to apply for some type of welfare benefit. I was trying to make the point that based strictly on appearances when we were pregnant at the same time, employees were more likely to hold the door open and let her in before the building was officially open, than they were to do the same for me.
She sort of blew me off like I was being dramatic, not in a rude way, but more like she obviously didn’t take my comment seriously. And I was sort of stunned, because it’s something I dealt with often when I was pregnant, trying to walk into the locked building after someone else, and they would go so far as to pull the door shut after them when they saw me coming and saw I was close enough to get inside before it closed and locked behind them. I just don’t see that happening to her. And I know she has faced her own battles for other reasons, but I can’t hide who I am. I am judged on sight and I can’t do a damn thing about it. She is judged on sight too, but unless she was with her partner, I doubt most people would pick her out to discriminate against.
I’m not trying to imply that my struggles are worse than hers. In fact, I think she has probably had to fight a lot longer, and a lot harder than I have against our respective prejudicial magnets. I’m just saying that anyone who is prejudiced against Black people, Latinas, young women, young mixed women in the workplace, pregnant people of color, Black people who are too light-skinned, Black people who marry out of their race, people of color who are doing well for themselves… any combination of the above and many more bullshit reasons, I get it. I’m not even Latina and people are racist against me simply because they think I am. I’m treated like shit by White people for having darker skin than them, and Black people for having lighter skin. I get shit from Black men and Latinas for marrying my husband. I have people tell me that I think I’m too good for them, since I’m not hooking them up with extra Food Stamps. I have older people tell me that I’m too young and naïve to understand what they are going through. I get shit from bosses for talking too much, or not talking enough. I get shit from coworkers for doing too much work….
And I know we all have out struggles, I just get so frustrated sometimes that I can’t escape mine. I can’t walk down the street and have people think, “Oh, she looks like a nice person,” because the minute they see me I’m slapped with hundreds of labels, and people are reacting to their perceptions of me without my doing a damn thing. Not everyone has that curse.
But sometimes it’s a blessing, because I can look at another person like me, and I get it. There are a lot of prejudices I feel sympathetic towards, but there is no empathy because I’m never experienced it. But there are so many that I’ve dealt with, and learned from, and I appreciate that knowledge because if I was even slightly different, I might not know what I now do.
So that’s all. No hard feelings, just processing. And I am a little sad because I will never meet anyone who has dealt with what I’ve gone through. I ignore our differences sometimes with the hope that I’ll feel totally understood one day, but I think the real issue is that I need to learn to let go of that need to feel understood. There are so many fragmented parts of me that I haven’t wholly integrated yet. It’s my life lesson, maybe, to see myself as a whole person, so then I can really feel that way.
Sometimes it jumps up and smacks you in the face that you are different from the people around you.
Mostly, I don’t consciously think about those differences. I skate through life with the assumption that people who look like me are treated like I am, because I’m self-centered like that. It’s sort of like forgetting that other people still exist when you aren’t with them, assuming a long-lost friend is the same person they were when you knew them, because, they can’t change if you aren’t there to see it. Right?
But once in a while, it becomes blaringly obvious that we are not a homogenous society. And much as the US has become a “melting pot” there are still those people who are not as accepting as others and maybe it’s an unconscious reaction to a perceived difference, based on skin color or gender, or a prejudicial assumption about a person, but we people of color are treated differently than our white counterparts.
It’s a good sign to me that white people assume we are treated the same, and that people of color receive the same benefits as they do, but it’s also disturbing that they are oblivious to the discrimination that we deal with on a frequent basis. I think it’s positive because it shows that they themselves don’t believe that we deserve less, but it also creates a divide between us because there is a huge part of me, a major influence on my past and present, that they can’t understand.
And really, this county is more accepting of racial differences than other places that I have lived, but I get the feeling that a lot of it, especially with older generations, is a front. They are courteous when you are a customer in their store and they know you’re going to be putting your money in their pockets. They are polite when you are in a position of authority to help them. But many are also blatantly racist when they make an assumption about your heritage, your economic situation, your marital status, or whatever. Sometimes they make racist remarks about a culture they assume you are not connected to. Sometimes they treat you with disdain because they assume you don’t deserve their respect.
This all came about during a conversation this morning in which a blonde-haired, blue-eyed coworker of mine looked perplexed when I pointed out that when I was pregnant, people in our building assumed that I was here to apply for some type of welfare benefit. I was trying to make the point that based strictly on appearances when we were pregnant at the same time, employees were more likely to hold the door open and let her in before the building was officially open, than they were to do the same for me.
She sort of blew me off like I was being dramatic, not in a rude way, but more like she obviously didn’t take my comment seriously. And I was sort of stunned, because it’s something I dealt with often when I was pregnant, trying to walk into the locked building after someone else, and they would go so far as to pull the door shut after them when they saw me coming and saw I was close enough to get inside before it closed and locked behind them. I just don’t see that happening to her. And I know she has faced her own battles for other reasons, but I can’t hide who I am. I am judged on sight and I can’t do a damn thing about it. She is judged on sight too, but unless she was with her partner, I doubt most people would pick her out to discriminate against.
I’m not trying to imply that my struggles are worse than hers. In fact, I think she has probably had to fight a lot longer, and a lot harder than I have against our respective prejudicial magnets. I’m just saying that anyone who is prejudiced against Black people, Latinas, young women, young mixed women in the workplace, pregnant people of color, Black people who are too light-skinned, Black people who marry out of their race, people of color who are doing well for themselves… any combination of the above and many more bullshit reasons, I get it. I’m not even Latina and people are racist against me simply because they think I am. I’m treated like shit by White people for having darker skin than them, and Black people for having lighter skin. I get shit from Black men and Latinas for marrying my husband. I have people tell me that I think I’m too good for them, since I’m not hooking them up with extra Food Stamps. I have older people tell me that I’m too young and naïve to understand what they are going through. I get shit from bosses for talking too much, or not talking enough. I get shit from coworkers for doing too much work….
And I know we all have out struggles, I just get so frustrated sometimes that I can’t escape mine. I can’t walk down the street and have people think, “Oh, she looks like a nice person,” because the minute they see me I’m slapped with hundreds of labels, and people are reacting to their perceptions of me without my doing a damn thing. Not everyone has that curse.
But sometimes it’s a blessing, because I can look at another person like me, and I get it. There are a lot of prejudices I feel sympathetic towards, but there is no empathy because I’m never experienced it. But there are so many that I’ve dealt with, and learned from, and I appreciate that knowledge because if I was even slightly different, I might not know what I now do.
So that’s all. No hard feelings, just processing. And I am a little sad because I will never meet anyone who has dealt with what I’ve gone through. I ignore our differences sometimes with the hope that I’ll feel totally understood one day, but I think the real issue is that I need to learn to let go of that need to feel understood. There are so many fragmented parts of me that I haven’t wholly integrated yet. It’s my life lesson, maybe, to see myself as a whole person, so then I can really feel that way.
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