Okay. So now that I've gotten the previous post out, I do feel a little better. Moms must have outlets for expression--and we must let the cracks show every now and then. For example, I was reading the latest Oprah on the way back from the grueling DC trip...in it, a woman with breast cancer talked about how she learned to grin and bear it for the sake of her twin boys.
Uhm, WHAT?
I mean, is it truly necessary to create a magical world for one's children in which things are never hard--in which mommy never struggles with anything? As proven by my incredulity at this other mom's stance...and my previous post...I think that it is important for our kids to understand that life is not always Forest Gump's box a' choc-o-lates.
What do YOU think? Please weigh in if you read this post.
My personal opinion is that life is a series of ups and downs and that we shouldn't hide this fact from our children. After all, they're in the boat with us, right?
I've given much time to my downs in the last post. So now we turn to the ups...
A. and I have a wedding to attend today at 5pm. Woohoo! Since A.'s East Coast Grandma sent me home (I went up to visit her and Father-In-Law after my grueling-yet-professionally-uplifting DC trip) with a suitcase full of cupcake-sweet little girl dresses, A. is not wanting for wedding attire. She just needs some frilly socks. So she and I will go to the Small Town Department Store for frilly socks and a wedding present in a little while. Weddings are always delightful, aren't they?...Except in cases where one's reception DJ forgets that there are people at the party who might not think of "There Some Hoes in This House" as an appropriate après wedding musical selection.
But I digress.
Other good things? I visited my friend, the Retired Art Professor, yesterday. We had tea--a first for me. At approximately four, she made some delightful Gevalia chocolate and raspberry decaf, and we sat in her screened in porch sipping our coffee and nibbling on peanuts and cookies. We talked about the class she's taking to learn how to use her digital camera, and about bird watching, and about the fact that she will never again host a Christmas party due to the unfortunate and weird belief of some people that Christmas dinners can be conducted without sweet potatoes, cornbread dressing or cranberry sauce. I think she was a little put off that I left at seven minutes before 5, instead of 5pm straight up, but I had seen children playing at the college across the street, and I was able to get an application for the child development center before I had to go pick up A. In any case, it was good to hang out with the Art Professor. In a future post I'll have to relay her stories about raunchy white men, the summer she was taking classes on the campus where George Wallace stood in the schoolhouse door, and the changes her house and yard have gone through since 1964...
Professionally, I've some significant "ups" as well. I made it through the DC trip (despite an ogre-ish fever blister on my lip) and was able to learn a great deal, visit with a good friend and her family and see my father-in-law and stepmom-in-law. I had a good time at the Big Conference in San Francisco and got to spend some good time with my brother. And I turned in a fellowship proposal, co-authored with a colleague at the University. And I'm DONE TEACHING!!!!!
Really, the end of my teaching also marks the end of the academic year--and given this fact, the only remaining "down" is that I haven’t yet finagled an opportunity to celebrate making it through the first year of my new job. I think this qualifies at a Four-Martini occasion, don’t you?
Or perhaps another Friday afternoon tea with the Art Professor will suffice.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Mommy is Grouchy
A has needs of her own, a startling but true developmental fact. Sigh. She is completely silly and incoherent when I want to "connect" with her. But when I'm needing space to work through my depression about the life I'm eking out...and would rather that no one bother me or notice my slump, she is incredibly observant and ready to eat/get dressed/draw....
Case in point. I woke up feeling crappy and was wishing that A. would sleep in and S.O. would just go do whatever it is that he is going to do and that the world would just LEAVE ME ALONE. Of course, the reality is that S.O. woke up early (for him) and with much to-do (lots of burps and farts) got in the shower and shortly thereafter A. meandered into the bedroom, climbed into the bed, and sat on top of my back. "Good Morning Mommy." I manage to mumble "good morning" back. Short pause. Then A. turns to S.O.
"Mommy's grouchy."
Fuck! Yes, mommy is grouchy. Is that not permitted? S.O. lives the land of grouchiness, only occasionally making sojourners into the outskirts of Pleasantville--yet for some reason the world is off its axis if I'm not channeling June Cleaver 24/7.
Grrrr. S.O. told me he would call me at lunch time, after he'd been at work and mailed off some things. And I'm thinking, call for what reason? So I said it, thereby thwarting his attempt at niceness. But come on--it's easy to be nice when you get up and get to conduct your Saturday in the way you see fit. Why call? To check on whether I've sufficiently begun my weekly domestic servitude as you are on your way to play Madden2006 at best buddy's house? I was already washing the dishes S.O. is genetically unable to put in the sink when he made his comment, so there is really no need to check on my level of housewifery.
As I type, A is doing some kind of bouncy, springy dance "look at me!" I half-heartedly nod.
Of course, it was just yesterday when I was reflecting on how homesick I was. And how much I yearned to be around these two. It's times like these where I need divine intervention. But then I'm thinking that the path of righteousness would just lead me right back into the laundry room. So until I see the light, I blog.
But there are consequences and repercussions for the path I've chosen, and A sticks the knife in, deep. As she goes upstairs to watch cartoons she says, to no one in particular. "I shore like Daddy."
I think she gets her talent for scathing repartee from me, bless her heart (I'm beginning to see the way these Southern phrases are useful).
Case in point. I woke up feeling crappy and was wishing that A. would sleep in and S.O. would just go do whatever it is that he is going to do and that the world would just LEAVE ME ALONE. Of course, the reality is that S.O. woke up early (for him) and with much to-do (lots of burps and farts) got in the shower and shortly thereafter A. meandered into the bedroom, climbed into the bed, and sat on top of my back. "Good Morning Mommy." I manage to mumble "good morning" back. Short pause. Then A. turns to S.O.
"Mommy's grouchy."
Fuck! Yes, mommy is grouchy. Is that not permitted? S.O. lives the land of grouchiness, only occasionally making sojourners into the outskirts of Pleasantville--yet for some reason the world is off its axis if I'm not channeling June Cleaver 24/7.
Grrrr. S.O. told me he would call me at lunch time, after he'd been at work and mailed off some things. And I'm thinking, call for what reason? So I said it, thereby thwarting his attempt at niceness. But come on--it's easy to be nice when you get up and get to conduct your Saturday in the way you see fit. Why call? To check on whether I've sufficiently begun my weekly domestic servitude as you are on your way to play Madden2006 at best buddy's house? I was already washing the dishes S.O. is genetically unable to put in the sink when he made his comment, so there is really no need to check on my level of housewifery.
As I type, A is doing some kind of bouncy, springy dance "look at me!" I half-heartedly nod.
Of course, it was just yesterday when I was reflecting on how homesick I was. And how much I yearned to be around these two. It's times like these where I need divine intervention. But then I'm thinking that the path of righteousness would just lead me right back into the laundry room. So until I see the light, I blog.
But there are consequences and repercussions for the path I've chosen, and A sticks the knife in, deep. As she goes upstairs to watch cartoons she says, to no one in particular. "I shore like Daddy."
I think she gets her talent for scathing repartee from me, bless her heart (I'm beginning to see the way these Southern phrases are useful).
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Sopranos Existentialism
I've been reading all day, interspersed with a lunch spent watching the third episode of this season's Sopranos. Love Tony's pondering of life and the setting--a hospital--in which it happens. Hospitals have always had this "non-space" quality for me. In any case.
I have roughly an hour to:
Read a 30 page text for class tonight
Pick up the dry cleaning
Exercise/Take a shower
Mail the rent check
Update the spreadsheet with my latest receipts etc.
Add to my chapter
Decide whether to cancel tomorrow's class (that I had originally scheduled to be cancelled, but right now isn't, but that I really don't have time to read for if I want to have a passable version of my chapter ready to present at the Big Conference) and send an email to students
My life seems to be an unresolvable series of dilemmas, the biggest of which is not how to get everything done but how to do the best job I can with the time I have in front of me. This realization leaves my everyday world--writing in this blog, kissing my daughter good-bye in the morning, eating that caramel apple empanada when I know I shouldn't--tinged in blue. Is it that tint that makes life so very sweet?
I distinctly remember a time when I thought that anything was possible and my conception of time was limited to wondering what time was necessary to complete a paper, prepare a meal, walk to wherever. I still wonder about the time it takes to do these things, but there is definitely another layer presenting itself to me now.
Working from home and the three hour round trip commute on the days I do go to campus is very lonely and isolating existence. But maybe there is a reason for the current reality of my life. The time to reflect is not a luxury that many people allow themselves. I hope I am able to use it wisely.
I will rush a reading of the chapter. Email my students. Send the rent check and on the way out, pick up the dry cleaning (if I'm lucky). Finances? Later. Shower? Later. Exercise? Later?
Chapter? (Place Expletive Here)
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Coffee and Periods
It is 11:17 p.m., I am being remarkably productive and it strikes me that coffee and periods (the womanly gift kind) have something in common. The effects of both are very sneaky. Case in point: I was talking with Wonderful Cousin and she relayed a story in which she went off on her S.O., and then proceeded to call him tearfully to apologize, and to say that she didn't know why she was acting like this. At which point he commented gently:
"Sweetie--This happens every month."
In much the same way, my coffee consumption has snuck up on me this evening. I was sitting here feeling very pleased with myself for actually working on my brilliant chapter (positive thinking/wishing never hurt anyone, right?) so late at night, when all of the sudden it occurred to me: "Hmmm...I am generally a morning person. I wonder why I feel so incredibly motivated tonight?" And then reality tapped me on the shoulder.
I had two mega cups of coffee today. Inner will power and determination? Alas, it is just caffeine, otherwise known as the other nectar of the gods and savior to academics everywhere. Don’t try to cook dinner, clean the kitchen, bath the daughter, wash three loads of laundry, fold two loads, delete and file 300 emails and begin work on above mentioned chapter without it!
Unfortunately, I’m wondering if caffeine can also cause paranoia. As I write, it is awfully quiet downstairs. When I left S.O. he was intently focused on Madden 2006…but it’s been a while. Hopefully he is not doing finances—the one thing I didn’t tackle tonight. I wonder why?
Don’t get it twisted. There is a delicate hierarchy of procrastination at work here.
"Sweetie--This happens every month."
In much the same way, my coffee consumption has snuck up on me this evening. I was sitting here feeling very pleased with myself for actually working on my brilliant chapter (positive thinking/wishing never hurt anyone, right?) so late at night, when all of the sudden it occurred to me: "Hmmm...I am generally a morning person. I wonder why I feel so incredibly motivated tonight?" And then reality tapped me on the shoulder.
I had two mega cups of coffee today. Inner will power and determination? Alas, it is just caffeine, otherwise known as the other nectar of the gods and savior to academics everywhere. Don’t try to cook dinner, clean the kitchen, bath the daughter, wash three loads of laundry, fold two loads, delete and file 300 emails and begin work on above mentioned chapter without it!
Unfortunately, I’m wondering if caffeine can also cause paranoia. As I write, it is awfully quiet downstairs. When I left S.O. he was intently focused on Madden 2006…but it’s been a while. Hopefully he is not doing finances—the one thing I didn’t tackle tonight. I wonder why?
Don’t get it twisted. There is a delicate hierarchy of procrastination at work here.
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