I just wanted to say that I love the comments I receive on this blog. You see any on the comments here? No? Well its because most people seem to comment via Facebook. That is still lovely for me but its not lovely for them because I am a lousy lousy Facebook messager. I only message on Facebook as an absolute last resort (as I did today when Laine felt she had offended me because I had ignored her for so long).
Its really not personal. At least, I don't mean it to be.
Its because the Facebook app steals my messages or they get lost before I finish them. Most days I am extremely interrupted at home. I only type freely on days off or at night or a bit at naptime if Frost is out. So, I really intend to do better and shall try harder because I much prefer dialogue to an endless soliloquy.
Please forgive me for now and if you really want a reply, include your email in your Facebook message. That way, I can just paste it into my gmail and respond to you there.
To those of you who know the evil truth that my email is backed up for days as well please know that I have composed emails to you in my mind. We have had conversations. We have sipped our wine. Tamsyn, David, Mum, James, Kelly, Natasha, Jeanelle, Sandy - I am thinking of you and/or emails you have sent but just never get around to writing in more than sound bites. I hope we catch up eventually.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Bizarre Injuries bring out the Seer
[Edited to get Wren's words right]
I was a bit OCD as a child. I thought that if I did anything I had to repeat it (MyAge+1)x or I would die. This included things like skipping, hopping over lines in the sidewalk without touching and throwing and catching a ball. It became harder as I grew older but I also had more skill so my fear of death receded over time.
I also collected numbers. I liked to keep my bus tickets (each one had a discrete serial number) and recorded the numbers that city workers left on things like fire hydrants and sidewalk access hatches. I felt that there might be some clue to life, some code that could be solved. Something that the adults were doing that they hadn't told me.
Later, I read a Roald Dhal short story about a man who has a form of extra-sensory perception that allows him to see through cards. I borrowed books on ESP from the library and spent a long time researching Kundalini and Uri Geller to see if I could read minds. For a long time I believed that I had a super-power of microscopic vision and that those little motes of fat one sees dancing across the eye were actually microscopic particles in the air that only I could see!
Uri Geller
The mortal damage to my beauty
I was a bit OCD as a child. I thought that if I did anything I had to repeat it (MyAge+1)x or I would die. This included things like skipping, hopping over lines in the sidewalk without touching and throwing and catching a ball. It became harder as I grew older but I also had more skill so my fear of death receded over time.
I also collected numbers. I liked to keep my bus tickets (each one had a discrete serial number) and recorded the numbers that city workers left on things like fire hydrants and sidewalk access hatches. I felt that there might be some clue to life, some code that could be solved. Something that the adults were doing that they hadn't told me.
Later, I read a Roald Dhal short story about a man who has a form of extra-sensory perception that allows him to see through cards. I borrowed books on ESP from the library and spent a long time researching Kundalini and Uri Geller to see if I could read minds. For a long time I believed that I had a super-power of microscopic vision and that those little motes of fat one sees dancing across the eye were actually microscopic particles in the air that only I could see!
Uri Geller
Anyway, after a few more decades of reading the potents in tarot cards and secret societies I have largely morphed my belief in portents into a healthy respect for the buddha's teachings and a quixotic category of "I don't know but I like to imagine" which includes looking at the stars in dark places and being SURE that Wren did so well in his last surgery because I found so many sand dollars on the beach the month before. [I found lots on Vashon before his July appointment so the significance was confirmed.]
This brings me to yesterday.
Yesterday, I received two strange injuries and they feel ominous [omen-ous?]
FIRST I was mauled by a chicken. The artifact is a large red scratch across the side of my face onto my eyelid.
SECOND I squeezed a sliver of my stomach between the upper and lower sections of a loft bed we were assembling. The artifact is a small red line of broken blood vessels.
I am really at a loss to know what the universe is telling me. Is it that I should lose weight and give people more space? Should I become vegetarian?
[ASIDE: In the bath last night I was feeding Wren his leftover beef fajita when he asked:
"What is this stuff? It look like chicken poop."
[Wren throws it on the bathmat.]
"Its beef, meat from a cow. Don't throw meat."
"A cow?"
"A cow from the shop."
"Which cow?"
"I don't know which cow."
"You went to the farm and which cow did you picked the body off?"
"No, someone else killed the cow and sold it at the shop."
"Cow is very strong. It is hard to bite it."
Anyway, I shall post a picture of my mortal injuries later. Actually, not my belly. I am not ready to post a picture of my belly yet.
The mortal damage to my beautyWednesday, August 19, 2009
Tuesday being busy kind of
I have 6 appointments in my planner today. SIX is not bad for a stay-at-home momsicle. I have already been to the masseur to deal with my neck issues. If you're envious and imagining me lying in the twilight while someone plays elevator music and soothes my soul, think again. These days masseurs are hard core [read pilates] advocates who adjust your structure [read your bones and core muscles] with deep probing and thrusting. Since most of my readers are mothers whom I assume have no sex life you won't read any double entendre into that but just in case, let me clarify, probing and thrusting into my brain via the armpit is not sexy.
I felt great afterwards.
Next was Taking Wren to Art School. He was querulous when we arrived and decided it was time to go home. Now. Immediately. I told him he could go home after art class so he did one painting and then said it was time to go home. Now. Immediately. The teachers are very nice and allow parents to stay so I prepared to sit in the lounge and wait with Frost reading Farside. Wren found that too alarmingly far and cried to go home (now, etc etc) so I had to join him on the mat playing with small stuffed rodents in a basket. I played squirrel, chipmunk, beaver (rodent?) and oppossum (not rodent?). Then I played with the little people and the stuffed bears. I started to tell Wren the story of the 3 bears in a funny voice and before long I had half the preschool class gathered around involved in the story. Thankfully the teacher came over with the Three Bears story and suggested storytime so I was able to escape and am now typing this post from a spot in the shrubbery outside preschool. It is shady and there are no children in sight.
After Wren is done at preschool I will be going to the chiropractor. While I was lying on the massage table I did my best to get the masseur to tell me to stop seeing the chiropractor but she said that some bodies respond well to bone adjustment. I shall have to see how I respond. Right now I feel that I prefer the deep probing to the violent wrenching
Update on the Chiropractor
I am going to see the chiropractor a few more times but I am not sure I like her. I mean, I like her but she has really drunk the Koolaid on chiropractic work and wants to do direct debits from my checking account for a monthly total of 12 visits. Are you insane woman? Anyway, after the adjustment I feel worse than before but have failed to find any google records for chiropractors who have actually broken patients necks so it must just be a feeling I have.
I may try another chiropractor recommended by my naturopath. He doesn't see you more than every few weeks. I welcome successful chiropractor stories. Actually, I welcome any stories of chiropractors who break necks, too. It would help my though processes.
Then later on...
Later, I have someone coming over for my 3-bin-compost system (which I made with my own hands and saw and hammer in the days when I did things like that) which I donated FREE on Craigslist. The people who are taking it are going to use it in a P-Patch (community garden) in West Seattle which is a good home for it.
I made this
Later still, Josh is going to collect and assemble the loft bed we bought on the weekend.
Later still still, I hope to meet my friend Laurie for drinks. We have tried to talk while our kids have playdates but its too hectic to speak. Those childless among you may not believe me. But it is impossible to speak sequentially while 2, 4 and 8 year olds are playing.
Follow up to the career crisis post
Thank you to all of you who responded to my earnings angst, my career crisis, my big-blob of motherhood moment. I can divide responses into two groups. The first group is from mother's who have gone through the same thing and come out the other side. They said [to paraphrase] come and talk to me, you need to work at this, its not your fault, we have been there and you will get through it]. This group includes my mother. Thank you.
The other group of responses said [to paraphrase] "you are obsessing about this and should just follow your heart and do what you are interested in love and if it doesn't work there is still the chance to do something else, life's not rigid, you are talented, you are still you, there are plenty of jobs out there. Just get one if you want." This group loosely includes my husband.
And lets just say that that sort of talk is kind but nonconstructive.
Some time ago I read a copy of Brain Child in which a writer complained that when she was at home full time the cost of her labor at home was effectively deducted from her husband's paycheck but when she wanted to go back to work the cost of the childcare was supposed to be met by her nascent employment. This makes it very hard to earn enough to make it viable to afford quality childcare.
I like the idea of organizing childcare and then getting a job but that may be unrealistic - what if the hours don't match or I can't find a job soon enough? Anyway, I am going to avoid the whole cost-of-childcare obstacle while I weigh my options.
Aside, for my mother and Josh
I know you are the only one interested in the details of my neck diagnosis. The masseur is trained as an osteopath, pilates instructor AND masseur. She says she is very pleased that all my neck symptoms 'make sense' and then explained what is wrong. Apparently I have a lot of tension across my front upper chest which you can see by my rounded shoulders which cannot pull back. This puts my neck at the wrong angle - leaning too far forward. It is also asymmetrical - probably from those years carrying Frost on one side in the sling. This means my right shoulder pulls my neck vertebra to the left where there is a lot of muscle tension. The right side overcompensates lower down to pull it back. Her goal is to open up my front breastbone area (am I a chicken or is there a better word?) and muscles so my back and neck alignment is correct. Then the muscles will stop the spasms. I need to strengthen my core muscles to help holding my chest more erect rather than slumping. My first exercise is to lie on my back on a tennis ball to work into the tight muscle under my right shoulder blade.
I felt great afterwards.
Next was Taking Wren to Art School. He was querulous when we arrived and decided it was time to go home. Now. Immediately. I told him he could go home after art class so he did one painting and then said it was time to go home. Now. Immediately. The teachers are very nice and allow parents to stay so I prepared to sit in the lounge and wait with Frost reading Farside. Wren found that too alarmingly far and cried to go home (now, etc etc) so I had to join him on the mat playing with small stuffed rodents in a basket. I played squirrel, chipmunk, beaver (rodent?) and oppossum (not rodent?). Then I played with the little people and the stuffed bears. I started to tell Wren the story of the 3 bears in a funny voice and before long I had half the preschool class gathered around involved in the story. Thankfully the teacher came over with the Three Bears story and suggested storytime so I was able to escape and am now typing this post from a spot in the shrubbery outside preschool. It is shady and there are no children in sight.
After Wren is done at preschool I will be going to the chiropractor. While I was lying on the massage table I did my best to get the masseur to tell me to stop seeing the chiropractor but she said that some bodies respond well to bone adjustment. I shall have to see how I respond. Right now I feel that I prefer the deep probing to the violent wrenching
Update on the Chiropractor
I am going to see the chiropractor a few more times but I am not sure I like her. I mean, I like her but she has really drunk the Koolaid on chiropractic work and wants to do direct debits from my checking account for a monthly total of 12 visits. Are you insane woman? Anyway, after the adjustment I feel worse than before but have failed to find any google records for chiropractors who have actually broken patients necks so it must just be a feeling I have.
I may try another chiropractor recommended by my naturopath. He doesn't see you more than every few weeks. I welcome successful chiropractor stories. Actually, I welcome any stories of chiropractors who break necks, too. It would help my though processes.
Then later on...
Later, I have someone coming over for my 3-bin-compost system (which I made with my own hands and saw and hammer in the days when I did things like that) which I donated FREE on Craigslist. The people who are taking it are going to use it in a P-Patch (community garden) in West Seattle which is a good home for it.
I made this
Later still still, I hope to meet my friend Laurie for drinks. We have tried to talk while our kids have playdates but its too hectic to speak. Those childless among you may not believe me. But it is impossible to speak sequentially while 2, 4 and 8 year olds are playing.
Follow up to the career crisis post
Thank you to all of you who responded to my earnings angst, my career crisis, my big-blob of motherhood moment. I can divide responses into two groups. The first group is from mother's who have gone through the same thing and come out the other side. They said [to paraphrase] come and talk to me, you need to work at this, its not your fault, we have been there and you will get through it]. This group includes my mother. Thank you.
The other group of responses said [to paraphrase] "you are obsessing about this and should just follow your heart and do what you are interested in love and if it doesn't work there is still the chance to do something else, life's not rigid, you are talented, you are still you, there are plenty of jobs out there. Just get one if you want." This group loosely includes my husband.
And lets just say that that sort of talk is kind but nonconstructive.
Some time ago I read a copy of Brain Child in which a writer complained that when she was at home full time the cost of her labor at home was effectively deducted from her husband's paycheck but when she wanted to go back to work the cost of the childcare was supposed to be met by her nascent employment. This makes it very hard to earn enough to make it viable to afford quality childcare.
I like the idea of organizing childcare and then getting a job but that may be unrealistic - what if the hours don't match or I can't find a job soon enough? Anyway, I am going to avoid the whole cost-of-childcare obstacle while I weigh my options.
Aside, for my mother and Josh
I know you are the only one interested in the details of my neck diagnosis. The masseur is trained as an osteopath, pilates instructor AND masseur. She says she is very pleased that all my neck symptoms 'make sense' and then explained what is wrong. Apparently I have a lot of tension across my front upper chest which you can see by my rounded shoulders which cannot pull back. This puts my neck at the wrong angle - leaning too far forward. It is also asymmetrical - probably from those years carrying Frost on one side in the sling. This means my right shoulder pulls my neck vertebra to the left where there is a lot of muscle tension. The right side overcompensates lower down to pull it back. Her goal is to open up my front breastbone area (am I a chicken or is there a better word?) and muscles so my back and neck alignment is correct. Then the muscles will stop the spasms. I need to strengthen my core muscles to help holding my chest more erect rather than slumping. My first exercise is to lie on my back on a tennis ball to work into the tight muscle under my right shoulder blade.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Golden Gardens Low Tide
For someone who grew up at 29 degrees latitude (similar to San Antonio, Texas), Seattle has a strong seasonality. Its the shortening evenings, the ripening pumpkins, the Halloween costumes arriving at Value Village and the BACK TO SCHOOL displays at area retailers that give you the message that summer is going to be over soon and you should just get over it and plan the holidays.
Realizing this over the weekend (it is no longer light when Wren wakes before 6am) I flew into a panic to do all the summer things I had planned but have not got around to yet. This morning we made it to Golden Gardens by 8.45am for the low tide. Some of the beach firepits were still smouldering when we arrived and fishing boats were putting out from the Marina across a glassy surface of the Sound. In the distance the Olympics were a wash of pale blue with rare patches of remaining snow. The water was far out at a -1.8 foot tide. Wren loved the hermit crabs and I managed to capture a large crab in the eelgrass. He was missing one large pincer but still waved the single one around menacingly. We stroked anemones to feel their sticky arms and froze our toes off on the incoming tide. I found a tube worm that is not in our Beachcombers Guilde to PNW seashore life but it was interesting in having built itself out of shells and pebbles.
While Wren was willing to go along with the sudden urgency to Get Out and See the Sun Frost was not cheerful about it. I don't know what happened to the nature-boy who used to accompany me on all the icy low tides near dawn but he complained that beaches are sandy and lay on a towel with 3 volumes of Foxtrot comics. He asked whether coming to the beach with me instead of staying home to play screentime and read and do D&D would constitute a chore he could tick off on his weekly responsibilities. I said "no" in that kind of restrained way that means I am biting my tongue to stop saying "WTF?".
Big Orgre Fighting Guy is MINE
On the way home we visited Gary's Games for some more D&D miniatures and then had brunch at the Sunlight Diner. The boys set up all the miniatures and Wren clung to a huge evil green snake monster and a big Ogre Fighting Guy which Frost will have to reclaim in due course. I have now had my morning fix of summer treats but Frost is hoping to go bowling later and I am hoping to water the garden and do some cleaning of the garden beds while its pleasant out there. I have a few plans for fall planting (some new lavender and perhaps a tree) and have to clean out the old plants and harvest the next crop of tomatoes for canning sauce. Finally, I am going to do the weekly garbage battle.
Rant about garbage
Seattle recently switched to 'compulsory' green waste recycling. Green waste includes food scraps and recyclable food containers as well as yard waste and it gets collected weekly. While I love the idea of all that composting of city garbage it has made a lot more work in my garbage day. Now I get to drag the HUGE yard waste container weekly (instead of bi-weekly). At the same time they removed our glass bins and told us to add all the other recyclables to the one bin. My recycling bin is always overflowing by Week 2 - so much so that I lifted all 65 lbs of Frost up into the bin and asked him to jump around on it to compact it ("ew, there is GLASS IN HERE!"). That was then hauled down the stairs to the street. Finally, I have the regular garbage AND my two ancillary yard waste containers which have leaves and tree clippings. I feel like a mini city transfer center outside my house each week. At least the lack of diapers has reduced our garbage bin to a new lightness.
To add to my complaint - we have had maggots in the yard waste TWICE. They are disgusting little things that crawl up the sides and out. Why? If they could stay inconspicuous I would not object to flies breeding in my garbage but they must not Come Out. Another time, I became confused and dumped the green waste ON TOP of the recycling. Lets just say that the kitchen debris is not fresh so that was fun to sort out.
I was down at Storables yesterday and I know that I am not the only one facing these complications of our new Green Friendly Policy. The shelves with nicely screened kitchen waste collectors that you can be proud to have in your kitchen [rather than quick to eject from your kitchen] were doing quick business while I shopped for a reusable soap dispenser which Wren has claimed as some kind of weapon.
I guess summer is starting to sound like the Domestic Goddess is Ranting. I shall go and drink tea (drinking water has been one of those fall-by-the-wayside things) plus I need to continue my research into netbooks and reschedule the visit to the chiropractor I avoided by doing the beach this morning.
Realizing this over the weekend (it is no longer light when Wren wakes before 6am) I flew into a panic to do all the summer things I had planned but have not got around to yet. This morning we made it to Golden Gardens by 8.45am for the low tide. Some of the beach firepits were still smouldering when we arrived and fishing boats were putting out from the Marina across a glassy surface of the Sound. In the distance the Olympics were a wash of pale blue with rare patches of remaining snow. The water was far out at a -1.8 foot tide. Wren loved the hermit crabs and I managed to capture a large crab in the eelgrass. He was missing one large pincer but still waved the single one around menacingly. We stroked anemones to feel their sticky arms and froze our toes off on the incoming tide. I found a tube worm that is not in our Beachcombers Guilde to PNW seashore life but it was interesting in having built itself out of shells and pebbles.
While Wren was willing to go along with the sudden urgency to Get Out and See the Sun Frost was not cheerful about it. I don't know what happened to the nature-boy who used to accompany me on all the icy low tides near dawn but he complained that beaches are sandy and lay on a towel with 3 volumes of Foxtrot comics. He asked whether coming to the beach with me instead of staying home to play screentime and read and do D&D would constitute a chore he could tick off on his weekly responsibilities. I said "no" in that kind of restrained way that means I am biting my tongue to stop saying "WTF?".
Big Orgre Fighting Guy is MINE
On the way home we visited Gary's Games for some more D&D miniatures and then had brunch at the Sunlight Diner. The boys set up all the miniatures and Wren clung to a huge evil green snake monster and a big Ogre Fighting Guy which Frost will have to reclaim in due course. I have now had my morning fix of summer treats but Frost is hoping to go bowling later and I am hoping to water the garden and do some cleaning of the garden beds while its pleasant out there. I have a few plans for fall planting (some new lavender and perhaps a tree) and have to clean out the old plants and harvest the next crop of tomatoes for canning sauce. Finally, I am going to do the weekly garbage battle.
Rant about garbage
Seattle recently switched to 'compulsory' green waste recycling. Green waste includes food scraps and recyclable food containers as well as yard waste and it gets collected weekly. While I love the idea of all that composting of city garbage it has made a lot more work in my garbage day. Now I get to drag the HUGE yard waste container weekly (instead of bi-weekly). At the same time they removed our glass bins and told us to add all the other recyclables to the one bin. My recycling bin is always overflowing by Week 2 - so much so that I lifted all 65 lbs of Frost up into the bin and asked him to jump around on it to compact it ("ew, there is GLASS IN HERE!"). That was then hauled down the stairs to the street. Finally, I have the regular garbage AND my two ancillary yard waste containers which have leaves and tree clippings. I feel like a mini city transfer center outside my house each week. At least the lack of diapers has reduced our garbage bin to a new lightness.
To add to my complaint - we have had maggots in the yard waste TWICE. They are disgusting little things that crawl up the sides and out. Why? If they could stay inconspicuous I would not object to flies breeding in my garbage but they must not Come Out. Another time, I became confused and dumped the green waste ON TOP of the recycling. Lets just say that the kitchen debris is not fresh so that was fun to sort out.
I was down at Storables yesterday and I know that I am not the only one facing these complications of our new Green Friendly Policy. The shelves with nicely screened kitchen waste collectors that you can be proud to have in your kitchen [rather than quick to eject from your kitchen] were doing quick business while I shopped for a reusable soap dispenser which Wren has claimed as some kind of weapon.
I guess summer is starting to sound like the Domestic Goddess is Ranting. I shall go and drink tea (drinking water has been one of those fall-by-the-wayside things) plus I need to continue my research into netbooks and reschedule the visit to the chiropractor I avoided by doing the beach this morning.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
You don't GO anywhere on a treadmill
Those of you who know me in person know that I have a longstanding desire to have a job. Its coupled with a firmly held belief that I don't want Wren and Frost to see their parents only on weekends (when I would be forced to cram all my pampering - pedicures, gym visits, shopping sprees and preventative healthcare into those days as well, right? Right?)
What I wanted to say was that life with the boys is rambling and roaring along at a happy pace of cupcakes and chores and chickenpoop but I don't have any time to think about my own goals (can mothers have such things?). As a result I live in a perpetual state of rushing without reflection which feels like running on a treadmill over a trapdoor. At any moment I could trip the switch [ie, Wren could enter elementary school before I have my 'career back', Frost could become a teenager or something will change] and I will fall down into a huge chasm of midlife crisis.
I know its waiting.
Recently I did some googling of potential employers. Employers with whom I would like to work and would have done well pre-motherhood. I looked at PATH and the Gates Foundation (which is based only 10 minutes from my home), some non-profits with work in Africa. I also googled masters courses in public health, public administration and other areas of interest.
Instead of being productive, this made me question how I got so far from the person I think I am. You know, brainy, successful, thin, doing regular exercise and valued by clients. Me - a straight A scholarship student in everything I have ever attempted can't even qualify for a masters without doing a GRE and seem unable to make myself appear anything but aged on a resume.
Worse, the students and employees whose faces grace the pages of these colleges and employers seem to personify the Other Path - where one can be young, free and embody dedication to the cause. I would love to be dedication to the cause 3 days a week but I am finding it hard to carve out the space for myself to gather the clarity to market myself.
Am I OLD at 42?
Then there are the big questions:
1) After a substantial career break, do you try and return at a similar level or just get any job. Marketing Director to checkout chick? Its looking good at this point.
2) Should I take the risk of working in non-profits where I may earn a lot less than the private sector but could have a more meaningful long term focus? I liked earning a good salary (Josh and I had the same salaries when we married. I now earn zilch. Nada. Nothing. I can't even apply for a credit card on my own. However, I was tired of FMCG and loved the social policy side. Also, should I focus on larger corporations that offer good health benefits in case we need some supplemental cover for Wren. We don't now but who knows down the track. Smaller non-profits are unlikely to be able to cover Wren as things now stand.
3) Should I try and find 'at home' work - or contract work which would allow me to dictate more flexible hours [=returning to work as a part-time qualitative research moderator if I could]
4) Should I work full-time? [=many more options but problems with young kids]
5) Should I work part-time? [=few opportunities in professional or well paid positions. I could be a checkout chick at PCC]
This is not very productive thinking. I simply create the same list of questions every time I consider this issue. Still, if you have read this far I appreciate it. It helps to put things down somewhere.
Did I say I hadn't had time to reflect? Now I have. TICK.
Meanwhile
Wren has been acting more like a 3-year old every day. He is much more opinionated and verbal and the outbursts of screeching have subsided. He loves to help me around the house as long as I don't ask him to. For example, if I start mopping or vacuuming without him he rushes to me and grabs at me "STOP STOP" while he gets his own mop or vacuum. However, if I ask him to pick up toys before snack / another game / books / gardening he refuses until he sees I am serious.
Frost is very into graphic novels. He is reading fairly adult cartoons and enjoys the Farside, Footrot Flats, Marvel comics and the Simpsons. He has almost finished the last of the Riordan series - The Last Olympian and will probably get back to the Warriors series (the second one) after that. He is still complaining about chores and was sulky, sad and self-recriminating when he realized he wasn't getting allowance this week because he had failed to do the required 15 chores this week. He can do things like recycling, cleaning his room, helping in the garden, checking the chicken's water and doing something extra to help but had only 9 'ticks' on his list. He is saving for Brickcon (to buy Brickarms) so he was miserable.
Anyway, its late. Its been a long day and I am always lazy at this time. I am sorry I have been a bad blogger. I am storing up posts for the time I get a moment in a coffee shop or a day when the kids are occupied. It hasn't been happening recently because my neck injury has had me using my time off for seeing doctors and a chiropractor.
Josh is in the kitchen trying to figure out what is going on with our dishwasher which is making a loud alarm signal at a time when the kids are sleeping. Last night Wren woke in the night very upset so I am not keen to disturb him again.
We bought Frost a loft bed today. It will arrive on Tuesday so we will be doing a mini-room remodel at that point.
What I wanted to say was that life with the boys is rambling and roaring along at a happy pace of cupcakes and chores and chickenpoop but I don't have any time to think about my own goals (can mothers have such things?). As a result I live in a perpetual state of rushing without reflection which feels like running on a treadmill over a trapdoor. At any moment I could trip the switch [ie, Wren could enter elementary school before I have my 'career back', Frost could become a teenager or something will change] and I will fall down into a huge chasm of midlife crisis.
I know its waiting.
Recently I did some googling of potential employers. Employers with whom I would like to work and would have done well pre-motherhood. I looked at PATH and the Gates Foundation (which is based only 10 minutes from my home), some non-profits with work in Africa. I also googled masters courses in public health, public administration and other areas of interest.
Instead of being productive, this made me question how I got so far from the person I think I am. You know, brainy, successful, thin, doing regular exercise and valued by clients. Me - a straight A scholarship student in everything I have ever attempted can't even qualify for a masters without doing a GRE and seem unable to make myself appear anything but aged on a resume.
Worse, the students and employees whose faces grace the pages of these colleges and employers seem to personify the Other Path - where one can be young, free and embody dedication to the cause. I would love to be dedication to the cause 3 days a week but I am finding it hard to carve out the space for myself to gather the clarity to market myself.
Am I OLD at 42?
Then there are the big questions:
1) After a substantial career break, do you try and return at a similar level or just get any job. Marketing Director to checkout chick? Its looking good at this point.
2) Should I take the risk of working in non-profits where I may earn a lot less than the private sector but could have a more meaningful long term focus? I liked earning a good salary (Josh and I had the same salaries when we married. I now earn zilch. Nada. Nothing. I can't even apply for a credit card on my own. However, I was tired of FMCG and loved the social policy side. Also, should I focus on larger corporations that offer good health benefits in case we need some supplemental cover for Wren. We don't now but who knows down the track. Smaller non-profits are unlikely to be able to cover Wren as things now stand.
3) Should I try and find 'at home' work - or contract work which would allow me to dictate more flexible hours [=returning to work as a part-time qualitative research moderator if I could]
4) Should I work full-time? [=many more options but problems with young kids]
5) Should I work part-time? [=few opportunities in professional or well paid positions. I could be a checkout chick at PCC]
This is not very productive thinking. I simply create the same list of questions every time I consider this issue. Still, if you have read this far I appreciate it. It helps to put things down somewhere.
Did I say I hadn't had time to reflect? Now I have. TICK.
Meanwhile
Wren has been acting more like a 3-year old every day. He is much more opinionated and verbal and the outbursts of screeching have subsided. He loves to help me around the house as long as I don't ask him to. For example, if I start mopping or vacuuming without him he rushes to me and grabs at me "STOP STOP" while he gets his own mop or vacuum. However, if I ask him to pick up toys before snack / another game / books / gardening he refuses until he sees I am serious.
Frost is very into graphic novels. He is reading fairly adult cartoons and enjoys the Farside, Footrot Flats, Marvel comics and the Simpsons. He has almost finished the last of the Riordan series - The Last Olympian and will probably get back to the Warriors series (the second one) after that. He is still complaining about chores and was sulky, sad and self-recriminating when he realized he wasn't getting allowance this week because he had failed to do the required 15 chores this week. He can do things like recycling, cleaning his room, helping in the garden, checking the chicken's water and doing something extra to help but had only 9 'ticks' on his list. He is saving for Brickcon (to buy Brickarms) so he was miserable.
Anyway, its late. Its been a long day and I am always lazy at this time. I am sorry I have been a bad blogger. I am storing up posts for the time I get a moment in a coffee shop or a day when the kids are occupied. It hasn't been happening recently because my neck injury has had me using my time off for seeing doctors and a chiropractor.
Josh is in the kitchen trying to figure out what is going on with our dishwasher which is making a loud alarm signal at a time when the kids are sleeping. Last night Wren woke in the night very upset so I am not keen to disturb him again.
We bought Frost a loft bed today. It will arrive on Tuesday so we will be doing a mini-room remodel at that point.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Bobcats, Cougars and linuxes
For better or worse, Frost is a child of the digital age. This week I took him, Wren and Isaac to Northwest Trek to see the animals and make the tram ride around the wildlife park. We had a fun time although Wren was exhausted on the tram from missing naptime.
We saw huge bison and moose and were excited by the elk entering the rut, rubbing the velvet off their horns to become more sexy.
Anyway, Frost and Isaac really enjoyed the forest animals best. They loved the wolverine and the fisher (Apparently the fisher needs a bit of a PR campaign. Perhaps it should appear on Diego or Zaboomafoo. "What is that?" "Its an otter/ferret / badger" "Is it?"" was the most common conversation at its window).
Frost wanted to see the cats but we didn't have time. He called them the "bobcats, cougars and linuxes." Apparently linux is more familiar to him than a lynx.
Wren and Frost are now dueling over the small stuffy possum we were given in exchange for a donation at the entrance. Wren wept because he couldn't find "baby poss" at naptime. This adds poss to the essential sleeping equipment of:
1) Soft shirt
2) Small bun[ny]
3) Big bun
4) Baby Poss
I need to run, Diego is over....
We saw huge bison and moose and were excited by the elk entering the rut, rubbing the velvet off their horns to become more sexy.
Anyway, Frost and Isaac really enjoyed the forest animals best. They loved the wolverine and the fisher (Apparently the fisher needs a bit of a PR campaign. Perhaps it should appear on Diego or Zaboomafoo. "What is that?" "Its an otter/ferret / badger" "Is it?"" was the most common conversation at its window).
Frost wanted to see the cats but we didn't have time. He called them the "bobcats, cougars and linuxes." Apparently linux is more familiar to him than a lynx.
Wren and Frost are now dueling over the small stuffy possum we were given in exchange for a donation at the entrance. Wren wept because he couldn't find "baby poss" at naptime. This adds poss to the essential sleeping equipment of:
1) Soft shirt
2) Small bun[ny]
3) Big bun
4) Baby Poss
I need to run, Diego is over....
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Crooked neck and Wren-Is-a-Tyrant
Anyone who thinks that being a stay at home mother is light work should take a look at me today. I am walking around with a neck spasm after trying to balance reading a book with navigating a toy and lifting Wren up into an "airplane" over my head.
Something went tweak and now I am incapacitated.
My naturopath has prescribed massage and chiropractic work as well as Tiger Balm and hot and cold compresses to reduce nerve and muscle inflammation. Apparently, I also have signs of long term (chronic) nerve compression in my face / neck due to neck vertebra being misaligned. I am going to have a good relationship with a masseur and a chiropractor. The trouble I had with the Open Water Swimming is also related to this neck injury so perhaps something good will come of this in the end.
Wren, sensing my distress has been kind and helpful, NOT. He has developed a violent shriek of protest which he uses when I show that my will is not subject to his command. Frost, who has started playing a MMORPG (Massively-Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) and is developing a new vocabulary, has taken to calling Wren his minion but when the master gives commands this minion retaliates.
The scream is so far outside the boundaries of acceptable voice or volume that he is taken straight to his room until he stops. This can be a long time. The only true antidote for this behavior is to shadow him all day and remove any obstacle to his desires, to obey fully, to respond adroitly and to maintain a steady focus of listening and being present. I am not very good at this. Sometimes the demands are challenging (I want cookie for breakfast. I want watch Diego NOW. Shannon DO NOT GO DOWNSTAIRS WITH FROST." On other occasions they are reasonable but I am not able to respond immediately. Finally, they are those times when I am a lousy mother and lazy as a windsock becalmed. Then it is all my fault because I do not listen/ come/look/stand / sit and/or see in a reasonable time.
Still, the punishment for neglect is dire.
Anyway, there is good news. I have my US Citizenship application all ready. It was a lot easier when I realized that I have had my Green Card for 7 years and qualify to apply for citizenship as a resident rather than as a wife of a US Citizen. That means I don't have to prove that Joshua supports, loves and maintains me and that we have kids and a house and a bank account together and he is not dead and still lives with me. I still have to prove I am not a felon and have a good moral character despite my old arrest in Australia (for trespassing during an anti-logging protest).
Otherwise, we are all doing fine. Enjoying some cooler weather and some lazy days. I have the big box of lego duplo in the basement and Frost makes popcorn everyday. Wren chooses his own clothes and is potty trained (hooray). Josh has bought some new running shoes and a banjoy and hopes to run and strum more in the near future. The Subaru has a CHECK ENGINE warning and it has to go in for a service soon. Anything else? Not that I can remember.
Oh, if you LOVE YOUR LAPTOP please tell me. I am replacing the old iBook and am thinking of switching to our family desktop for most of my computing with an Asus Eee 1005 as my portable machine. Comments? Horror? Let me know.
Something went tweak and now I am incapacitated.
My naturopath has prescribed massage and chiropractic work as well as Tiger Balm and hot and cold compresses to reduce nerve and muscle inflammation. Apparently, I also have signs of long term (chronic) nerve compression in my face / neck due to neck vertebra being misaligned. I am going to have a good relationship with a masseur and a chiropractor. The trouble I had with the Open Water Swimming is also related to this neck injury so perhaps something good will come of this in the end.
Wren, sensing my distress has been kind and helpful, NOT. He has developed a violent shriek of protest which he uses when I show that my will is not subject to his command. Frost, who has started playing a MMORPG (Massively-Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) and is developing a new vocabulary, has taken to calling Wren his minion but when the master gives commands this minion retaliates.
The scream is so far outside the boundaries of acceptable voice or volume that he is taken straight to his room until he stops. This can be a long time. The only true antidote for this behavior is to shadow him all day and remove any obstacle to his desires, to obey fully, to respond adroitly and to maintain a steady focus of listening and being present. I am not very good at this. Sometimes the demands are challenging (I want cookie for breakfast. I want watch Diego NOW. Shannon DO NOT GO DOWNSTAIRS WITH FROST." On other occasions they are reasonable but I am not able to respond immediately. Finally, they are those times when I am a lousy mother and lazy as a windsock becalmed. Then it is all my fault because I do not listen/ come/look/stand / sit and/or see in a reasonable time.
Still, the punishment for neglect is dire.
Anyway, there is good news. I have my US Citizenship application all ready. It was a lot easier when I realized that I have had my Green Card for 7 years and qualify to apply for citizenship as a resident rather than as a wife of a US Citizen. That means I don't have to prove that Joshua supports, loves and maintains me and that we have kids and a house and a bank account together and he is not dead and still lives with me. I still have to prove I am not a felon and have a good moral character despite my old arrest in Australia (for trespassing during an anti-logging protest).
Otherwise, we are all doing fine. Enjoying some cooler weather and some lazy days. I have the big box of lego duplo in the basement and Frost makes popcorn everyday. Wren chooses his own clothes and is potty trained (hooray). Josh has bought some new running shoes and a banjoy and hopes to run and strum more in the near future. The Subaru has a CHECK ENGINE warning and it has to go in for a service soon. Anything else? Not that I can remember.
Oh, if you LOVE YOUR LAPTOP please tell me. I am replacing the old iBook and am thinking of switching to our family desktop for most of my computing with an Asus Eee 1005 as my portable machine. Comments? Horror? Let me know.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Looking for Doffmetter
It is a lovely thing when your baby learns to talk. Lovely, and profoundly moving when the inchoate life-force reaches out and makes contact. All first-time parents (and some well rested veterans) wait with hope for the first word and two months later its obvious to everyone else that "ga ga ga" means pony.
But while the baby books hype up the happiness of the first "Ma ma" they failed to prepare me for the conversational mishaps of my kids. Here they are, for your edification and compassion.
ISSUES AND CONFLICTS ARISING FROM EARLY CHILDHOOD LANGUAGE ACQUISITION:
But while the baby books hype up the happiness of the first "Ma ma" they failed to prepare me for the conversational mishaps of my kids. Here they are, for your edification and compassion.
ISSUES AND CONFLICTS ARISING FROM EARLY CHILDHOOD LANGUAGE ACQUISITION:
Lesson number 1: Don't rush a child's development. Don't read too many books. Once a kid starts talking its impossible to shut him up. It is ideal if the child starts to talk around the time they have something worthwhile to contribute.
Both my kids have been early and insistent talkers. Actually, that's not quite true. Neither Frost nor Wren started speaking much before 15 months but since they did they have both been insistently articulate. There is the infamous long distance trip I took (alone) with Frost to South Africa when he was 20 months old. He spent much of our 18 hour hop from Atlanta to Joburg running up and down the aisle singing the ABC song and chatting to the legs that had aisle seats. He was a bit of a celebrity. During the trip he amused everyone by commenting that avocados were "very TAsty." Just take it from someone that has sat by a toddler during 72 hours of international travel - toddlers that talk do not always talk about things that are INTERESTING.
Lesson #2: Children do not learn words for your gratification.
Wren: "Shannon, I would like some tea. "
Both boys called me Mama / Mummy in the beginning. Somewhere pre-3 Frost noticed that I was called Shannon by everyone else and started calling me that. I have been unable to shake it. Wren called me Mummy too but is now in the transition. "Shannon, Shannon" he calls. "Shannon, Mummy!" When I remind him that I am his Mummy he says "Mummy Shannon?" Fred says I should "just ignore him" calling me Shannon and only respond to Mummy but toddlers are missiles designed for the sole purpose of detonating the ignorer. If there is an ignorer versus toddler competition I am doomed by virture of motherhood. Just how much "Shannon, Shannon?.. make it tea. Now. NOW. PLEEEEAAAAASE SHANNON" can you take?
Lesson #3: Kids acquire the vocabulary the eldest child uses, not the vocabulary from Good Night Moon.
Wren: "That big digger carried dumpster and Frost said "whattaheck?" he said "whattaheck?"
I think I speak well. Whenever a Facebook ap prompts me to test my vocabulary or verbal IQ or the books I have read I feel secretly smug (a smugness I do not put to the test but..). However, it appears our family is in need of some similes for "dammit" "fudge" and "crap" which slip out in times of stress and drama (no, not many of those around here).
Frost learned from me and his friends and is free and easy with his "dammits" which have been classed as non-felonious swear words. "Crap" is considered only slightly unpleasant and OK in dire straits [such as when your Guy is killed when you are near the end of a level or the computer freezes up and you lose all your progress at the end of your screentime limit]. Still, while I can stomach some colloquial rudeness in my 8 year old I think it is quite unacceptable for Wren to say "DAMMIT" when his block tower falls over. Its just not right. Further, all those first time parents at the playground could not imagine their baby (progressing right along through the baby book) could say a bad word like that. They don't understand that while Wren looks like a 2 year old he is really a size-challenged 8 year old and runs with the gang. He doesn't want to be friends with their kids just because they have some temporal thing in common.
Lesson #4: If you can't understand your child ITS YOUR FAULT. Dumbhead. Its YOUR FAULT.
When talking with you, children use the word they remember they heard yesterday but, like broken down telephones, the word may not correlate with anything in the dictionary. In this case it is your responsibility to solve the riddle. During the solving you should never never say "I don't understand". That's rude. That's being a dumbhead and you should not be a rude dumbhead to your toddler. They are talking to you and your are the understander so understand already alright.
I'll give you an example.
Wren tells me he wants his doffmetter pants. "doffmetter?" I repeat, in case I am miss-hearing.
"Doffmetter," he affirms.
"Hrrmm, where did you see Doffmetter?" I struggle?
"Yesserday, I have doffmetter. The NEW one."
I try, but fail. "I don't understand, Wren."
"DOFFMETTER!!!!!" Wren is shouting and starting to speak high pitched. He is on the verge of a tantrum.
"Ok, where did you see it"
"Innalaundry!" he whines, supine.
"Ah, your new underpants?"
He hops up as I pull out all the 8 underpants hoping that one is doffmetter. We check all 8 and as I see him examining and rejecting them. Then we have a moment of insight.
Wren: "NO THOSE! Where is doff-meter-fighting-guy! "
"Fighting guy? OH OH....Darth vader? You want your Darth Vader underpants?"
"YES!!! DARFVETTER!"
Problem.
"Wren, there were no pants with Darth Vader on."
I know I am right. They are all Cars and The Incredibles on the pants. Seeing him gathering himself to yell at my stupidity I rush to the laundry basket and gather all the other things we bought at Target. Wren scrabbles through them in excitement. We almost have reached communicative liftoff.
Wren says "It was there yesterday now it - is - not - there." [this is bad]
But all is not lost. Burrowing through dirty laundry Wren grabs at something blue. It is an Avengers T-shirt.
"THERE IT IS!" he is triumphant. "Hooraay."
We have found Doffmetter.
There are many other examples that are easy to see in retrospect or context but its very hard to make your mind leave the word you heard to find another. A few days ago Wren told me he had "lava" coming out his mouth (that was saliva) and you heard about Donna's Ark (Noah's to the biblical fundamentalists). We had "magnets" eating the dead seal on the beach and the T-doc on Greenlake is the "Greenlake DOCtor."
All of this is understandable as we acquire language without reading - I was the same learning spoken Indonesian - but it brings a great deal of stress to the conversational partner. The stakes are high and the volume loud. Its not like you or I learning to speak French over a cup of coffee. Its teaching someone else French when your student yells at you if you can't understand their guess at the word and they talk all the time about poop and cars and cookies and only learn the words that drive you crazy.
Now I am going to the dentist which means it will be quiet for an hour and I can drool lava from my mouth for a bit afterwards.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Wild Things
I grew up in Durban, South Africa, and was one of those kids who have a series of hobbies which consume them. One of these obsessions was bird watching. Durban has a very rich birdlife and once I set up a bird table in the tree outside my bedroom and stocked it with seed and bone meal I had an exciting range of birds to watch. I still recall the day I saw burchell's coucal on my bird table and there were always weavers and barbets as well as the ubiquitous indian mynahs which nested in the park nearby. Over the years my family took over the birdwatching habit and even now, whenever Mum and Dad visit me we end up bird watching and sharing binoculars. Even Wren knows that when you see a bird you shout "give me the binoculars!"
So it was utterly utterly frustrating to arrive at Cape Disappointment on Friday night and find the sea filled - from horizon to horizon - with tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of birds. From horizon to horizon the birds were flocked over the ocean, diving and flying past.
A small section of the huge mixed flock on 7/31/09
The beach was awash with feathers
So it was utterly utterly frustrating to arrive at Cape Disappointment on Friday night and find the sea filled - from horizon to horizon - with tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of birds. From horizon to horizon the birds were flocked over the ocean, diving and flying past.
A small section of the huge mixed flock on 7/31/09
Words cannot really convey what it was like. Photo's don't either. There was just SO MANY BIRDS out over the sea. They were constantly moving, weaving, plunging, some swaying in formation - long lines of 50 pelicans and 100 cormorants rising and falling in gentle parabolas. Flocks were out beyond the break diving and splashing into the sea while others were passing by like the flock of 70 pelicans I saw flying so close to the surface that I could see each bird reflected in the water beneath it. Further still, the horizon blurred with the sea and the small fishing fleet gathered in the fog marked the reach of the sea.
The beach was awash with feathersOn the beach the lines of yellow scum at the waterline were matted with small brown feathers. Ropes of kelp occasionally dragged dead birds - cormorant, small dark feathered things. Birds, birds, birds but no binoculars! Later, we stopped at the interpretive center and I asked their bird experts about what I had seen. Neither had seen the huge flocks I described but said that they had many schools of "bait fish" at this time of year - sardines, anchovies and another I could not catch the name of - and the birds follow the fish. This certainly conforms with my observations of the birds and you may see some of that if you enlarge the photo. They also mentioned that the fall migration begins in July for many species and it could be the beginning of this movement as the larger flocks gathered.
Wren learned the word "maggot" from a dead baby seal being consumed near the tide-line. "Want to see the magnets again!" he kept repeating. "See the magnets again." His new vocabulary saw more use at the dead whale.
Walking towards the bluff at the North end of the inlet, we found the tail of a whale, long dead. It had skin on it and smelt of rot from downwind. Some distance off, I saw bones protruding from the sand and dug about in sand to excavate a large vertebra (I had thought they were ribs). Liz, who is a naturopath and studied anatomy, was interested to understand the skeleton which was hard with so much buried.
I later googled whale beaching in the area and suspect it was the carcass of an immature Gray Whale which came to shore some months ago and was probably buried by the Parks Service to avoid a health hazard as it decomposed. The body was broken and parts may have been swept away. There was very little flesh remaining considering how large the whale must have been.
Wren was impressed by all the carnage on the shore and kept saying "saw a DEAD WHALE" and "see DEAD WHALE AGAIN?"
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Camping at Cape Disappointment
Last night we returned from a two night camping trip to Cape Disappointment. It had been extremely hot in Seattle in the past weeks but at the coast the weather was cool with banks of fog and light rain coming off the sea in the mornings. We wore fleece everyday and enjoyed the campfires, hot chocolate, smores and sleeping bags. However, some of our campmates were less sanguine about the weather and comments such as "we could have been in Seattle in bikinis" were heard in the prematurely dark evenings as the noise of the surf rolled across the dunes. This didn't bother me as geography and climate have nothing to do with my not wearing a bikini.
Wren enjoyed the first day but by Saturday afternoon he was going through withdrawals from Go Diego Go and was "sad and want to go to Mummy's home, not new home, now." Here he is after being told that he couldn't watch Diego because there was no television and we were a long way from our house.
What kind of minivan doesn't have a DVD player anyway?
Wren enjoyed the first day but by Saturday afternoon he was going through withdrawals from Go Diego Go and was "sad and want to go to Mummy's home, not new home, now." Here he is after being told that he couldn't watch Diego because there was no television and we were a long way from our house.
What kind of minivan doesn't have a DVD player anyway?
Thankfully, potty training continued to go well. Wren felt very at home on his potty as you can see from this fireside potty seat. I have taken to driving around with the potty in the car and this afternoon, on the way home from the Aquarium, we pulled to the side of the road so Wren could use the potty. Frost, having been forced to pee in a bottle on a number of occasions, thinks this is an excellent plan and suggested we keep the potty in the car forever. I was careful to go around corners slowly so as to avoid generating too much centrifugal force.
Frost had the most fun. He chased (and was chased around) by London (5) and enjoyed playing with Francis (pug). He was barefooted for much of the weekend and came home grimed with black metallic dust that is in the sand around here. Piper had a My Little Pony with a magnet in its foot which became encrusted with a thick lump of metal dust much as Frost's feet. I have had to wash everything we took camping and have made a list of the Things That Would Make Camping More Comfortable. These include a dustpan to clean the tent after the kids have played in my bed all day and a larger tent so I can turn over at night. Our current tent is a 4 skinnyperson tent and was bought before Wren was born. I think I would enjoy having enough space to have some of our clothes IN the tent instead of collecting black dust outside.
Frost was also happy at the treat of having Lucky Charms for breakfast number 1, number 2 and number 3. Wren had some every day but didn't really eat them. Both boys enjoyed the fire and roasting marshmallows and Frost finished an entire volume of his Rick Riordan series. He is now on number 4 - something about Titans. His DS battery became flat on the trip down so we did not have to 'negotiate' about screentime.
However far we were from wi-fi, Wren still found endless joy in the iPod touch. He played 'guys' and peekaboo barn when he was allowed which was when I needed to eat and not worry he was about to fall into the fire.
Is camping supposed to be FUN?
When I called Mum after we arrived home on Sunday night and she asked if we "had fun". Apparently I sounded ambivalent about the camping side of things (but not about the dead whale and seabird lallapalooza). I recall at some point on Saturday night having a glass of wine and opining that we should not book cabins next year because camping is about the discomfit. That camping should not be too easy and plush, that it was The Experience. I have never had an air-mattress and as a child we only did back-country camping . In America, all our camping has been 'car camping' which is what they call it when you put the kitchen sink in the back of the car and unload it somewhere else. Around us, most people had some kind of RV as well as a flotilla of little tents spread out around the campsite. Now that I have had time to think about it, I think camping could be a little more comfortable. A trip to REI will be happening shortly.
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