Sebastian loves vehicles. It took him a while to develop the obsession, but it appears to be here to stay. He has a number of cars and trucks to entertain him (along with some circus animals on wheels), but last week he discovered the garbage truck. Not a toy one. The REAL THING.
It comes every week, but he was usually up and playing or eating breakfast. Last week, though, he was just getting up when it came around. He looked around and started signing "truck...garbage...TRUCK...GARBAGE!!!" until I put him up on his window seat to see it. He watched it, fascinated, as it moved from house to house and then drove off.
He spent all of last week looking longingly at the window and signing, "truck...please?"
These are the moments when I wish I had amazing Magical Powers, so I could conjure a truck out of thin air. And I just love Sebastian for believing I can.
Best Baby Books?
Here's what I have so far:
- The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
- Brown Bear, Brown Bear by Bill Martin
- Peek-a Who? by Nina Laden
- Happy baby/Priddy books series with real pictures (there are lots of good ones)
- Barnyard Dance by Sandra Boynton
- Where is Baby's Belly Button? by Karen Katz (tons of good ones by her with this same lift-the-flap idea, but this is our favorite)
- Ten Wriggly, Wiggly Caterpillars by Debbie Tarbett
- Trains by Byron Barton
- Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You? by Dr. Seuss
- Horns to Toes by Sandry Boynton
- Another Monster at the End of This Book by Jon Stone (we have the original, too, but the one with Elmo is SP's favorite)
- Owl Babies by Martin Waddell
- More, More, More said the Baby by Vera B. WIlliams
- Quick as a Cricket by Audrey Wood
Good night books:
- Goodnight, Moon by Margaret Wise Brown
- Going to Bed Book by Sandra Boynton
- Fish Kisses by Marianne Richmond
Hard habits to make
The last time I looked at my resolutions was on October 15th. That is seriously unimpressive. Haven't done my Effective Habits since the 16th. The reason? I've had an out-of-town guest, a birthday, and a party - all of which contributed to a sense that I had Better Things To Do than what was on my recurring list.
The lesson I've learned is that even with a month and a half of trying to create these new habits, it took very little time to undo them. I know they are undone instead of just on hold because as soon as my son went to sleep this afternoon, I thought first of going to sleep myself, then to just replying to emails, then to reading blogs, and finally to writing my own post. Which I also haven't done since the 15th, but is much lower down on the task list. I feel a little guilty about it, but only just a little, which is the other reason I know my habits are undone.
One of my Guiding Principles is borrowed from The Happiness Project: Do what ought to be done. So what ought to be done right now? And why am I not doing it?
The answer to the second question is quite simple, really: a good book. A good book is the complete undoing of every resolution I have of accomplishing anything.
Today's was The Tipping Point, and I cannot stop thinking about how I wish that I had access to testing like they do for the show "Blue's Clues" before I taught my lessons to my students! If I just had several hundred sample students, I'd know how best to deliver every nugget of crucial information to those ten-year-olds. It would be a wonderful sight to behold. Alas, I don't, but I surely wish that the extensive educational research that has been done weren't so difficult to easily find and apply. It also usually boils down to the notion that it all depends on the individual teacher. Great. More pressure on me to be fabulous. Anyway, I have lots of thoughts about this excellent book (thanks for the birthday present, Renee!), but they are too numerous to list here.
The next book on my list is another break from my Newbery Project because I simply couldn't put it down at the bookstore. It spoke to me, just like The Penderwicks did a while back, and many, many other books. You can see why when I show you the cover:
It has 500 pages and a sequel.
I may not be getting anything done all week.
The lesson I've learned is that even with a month and a half of trying to create these new habits, it took very little time to undo them. I know they are undone instead of just on hold because as soon as my son went to sleep this afternoon, I thought first of going to sleep myself, then to just replying to emails, then to reading blogs, and finally to writing my own post. Which I also haven't done since the 15th, but is much lower down on the task list. I feel a little guilty about it, but only just a little, which is the other reason I know my habits are undone.
One of my Guiding Principles is borrowed from The Happiness Project: Do what ought to be done. So what ought to be done right now? And why am I not doing it?
The answer to the second question is quite simple, really: a good book. A good book is the complete undoing of every resolution I have of accomplishing anything.
Today's was The Tipping Point, and I cannot stop thinking about how I wish that I had access to testing like they do for the show "Blue's Clues" before I taught my lessons to my students! If I just had several hundred sample students, I'd know how best to deliver every nugget of crucial information to those ten-year-olds. It would be a wonderful sight to behold. Alas, I don't, but I surely wish that the extensive educational research that has been done weren't so difficult to easily find and apply. It also usually boils down to the notion that it all depends on the individual teacher. Great. More pressure on me to be fabulous. Anyway, I have lots of thoughts about this excellent book (thanks for the birthday present, Renee!), but they are too numerous to list here.
The next book on my list is another break from my Newbery Project because I simply couldn't put it down at the bookstore. It spoke to me, just like The Penderwicks did a while back, and many, many other books. You can see why when I show you the cover:
It has 500 pages and a sequel.
I may not be getting anything done all week.
Different like everyone else
I've been thinking a lot about what makes me stand out in a crowd, thanks for the All About Meme post from MommyBrain last week (sorry I'm a week late, D!). The challenge was to think of five things about me that make me different. When I read hers, I found that we were the same on 3.5/5 (I won't say which one and a half were different), and that many of those were things that wouldn't make me stand out in my crowd at all.
So what does? And do I like to stand out? I confessed in another post to being a bit of a drama queen, so the answer is probably yes. I'm reading The Tipping Point now and was trying to figure out if I was a Connector, Maven, or Salesman because I was so drawn to the idea of being special and important, but as I read on, I decided that I was none of the above. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I'm drawn to characters in books who discover that they are different in some way, but even in that I'm like a lot of other people. I read once that one reason Harry Potter books are so popular is that most kids wish they could wake up and find that they were special and were getting out of their ordinary, unpleasant lives.
Now my life is far from unpleasant, but it's clearly and disturbingly ordinary, so I kept thinking about this idea of what makes me stand out. Confession: It's supposed to be an "I never..." post, so I'm supposed to think of things I've never done. But that would be all too easy, because there are a zillion things I've never done. So here's what I came up with instead:
1. I know sign language and can still be found carrying on silent conversations with my mom when someone is sleeping or across the room at a family gathering. We learned when I was young, spent a few summers at a deaf camp, and became involved with a deaf church when I was in middle and high school. When my son was born it was wonderful to be able to be able to communicate with him in both sign and English. I just wish I remembered more of the actual ASL!
2. I was (am?) a ballroom dancer. I learned a bit through doing a production of "Guys and Dolls" in high school and joined the dance team at Yale. That's right, I can not only do the rumba, I have a blue ribbon for it! But once I graduated, I stopped dancing for the most part, because it's an expensive hobby for a teacher who also has student loans. I love it, though, and am hoping I can get back into it at some point.
3. I am a grammar geek. My relatives are kinder and say that I'm a grammar cop, but this is only so they can tease me about blowing my grammar whistle when I hear something like, "I did good on my English test." Tweeeeet!! I love revising and editing and harbor the fantasy that I'll get to be a children's book editor for a living and work from home as much as I want.
4. I didn't think that I was outside of the mainstream parenting group, but I've found that within my circle of friends, I stand out for being one of the only ones who uses cloth diapers. I think this is because people think they are much more difficult and disgusting than they really are. We use Mother-Ease diapers and they rock. I'm saving the cost of diapers (an extra load of laundry really doesn't come close to being as expensive, people) as well as doing my bit to reduce landfills. They help keep my son from having a miserable diaper rash, too, so it's a win-win. Turns out I'm also an unusual parent for not letting my guy cry it out in order to sleep train him, but that's a subject for another post. Hey, that fits with the I never prompt! Whew, I can follow rules a little, I guess.
5. I have Sebastian. This is what makes me different, just like every other parent out there. And every other parent out there knows exactly what I mean.
Still thinking about who I am. I try not to think too much about who I never was, unless there's still a chance to become her.
So what does? And do I like to stand out? I confessed in another post to being a bit of a drama queen, so the answer is probably yes. I'm reading The Tipping Point now and was trying to figure out if I was a Connector, Maven, or Salesman because I was so drawn to the idea of being special and important, but as I read on, I decided that I was none of the above. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I'm drawn to characters in books who discover that they are different in some way, but even in that I'm like a lot of other people. I read once that one reason Harry Potter books are so popular is that most kids wish they could wake up and find that they were special and were getting out of their ordinary, unpleasant lives.
Now my life is far from unpleasant, but it's clearly and disturbingly ordinary, so I kept thinking about this idea of what makes me stand out. Confession: It's supposed to be an "I never..." post, so I'm supposed to think of things I've never done. But that would be all too easy, because there are a zillion things I've never done. So here's what I came up with instead:
1. I know sign language and can still be found carrying on silent conversations with my mom when someone is sleeping or across the room at a family gathering. We learned when I was young, spent a few summers at a deaf camp, and became involved with a deaf church when I was in middle and high school. When my son was born it was wonderful to be able to be able to communicate with him in both sign and English. I just wish I remembered more of the actual ASL!
2. I was (am?) a ballroom dancer. I learned a bit through doing a production of "Guys and Dolls" in high school and joined the dance team at Yale. That's right, I can not only do the rumba, I have a blue ribbon for it! But once I graduated, I stopped dancing for the most part, because it's an expensive hobby for a teacher who also has student loans. I love it, though, and am hoping I can get back into it at some point.
3. I am a grammar geek. My relatives are kinder and say that I'm a grammar cop, but this is only so they can tease me about blowing my grammar whistle when I hear something like, "I did good on my English test." Tweeeeet!! I love revising and editing and harbor the fantasy that I'll get to be a children's book editor for a living and work from home as much as I want.
4. I didn't think that I was outside of the mainstream parenting group, but I've found that within my circle of friends, I stand out for being one of the only ones who uses cloth diapers. I think this is because people think they are much more difficult and disgusting than they really are. We use Mother-Ease diapers and they rock. I'm saving the cost of diapers (an extra load of laundry really doesn't come close to being as expensive, people) as well as doing my bit to reduce landfills. They help keep my son from having a miserable diaper rash, too, so it's a win-win. Turns out I'm also an unusual parent for not letting my guy cry it out in order to sleep train him, but that's a subject for another post. Hey, that fits with the I never prompt! Whew, I can follow rules a little, I guess.
5. I have Sebastian. This is what makes me different, just like every other parent out there. And every other parent out there knows exactly what I mean.
Still thinking about who I am. I try not to think too much about who I never was, unless there's still a chance to become her.
Opposites do attract
I realized yesterday as Sebastian played with his trains (up the hill. down the hill. up the hill. down the hill.) that life these days is all about opposites. In and out. Open and close. Off and on. Sit and stand. I could go on all night with this list, seriously.
Sebastian loves to find the two most different states he or an object can have, and alternate them. Over and over and over again. There's no need for fancy toys; give the kid a bottle with a top and he will spend a solid 5-10 minutes saying on, off, on, off as he plays with it (he will also spend the next hour walking around with the bottle). He does the same back and forth routine with light switches, a ball and a box, and - the new favorite - ramps.
For your viewing pleasure, here is Sebastian going up and down the ramp at our local zoo. If you listen closely, you can hear him say up, Mama, and down. I particularly like how he stops to say hi to a stranger passing by.
The only set of opposites he has yet to master is yes and no. He sticks with no no, and lets one of us supply the yes as needed.
The more I thought about this state of living with opposites, the more I realized that it is how life with a toddler is. I find that I am either elated to be home or wishing I were back at work. I am energetic or exhausted. Bewildered or confident. There doesn't seem to be much in between right now, for either of us, really, since Sebastian is usually either laughing out loud or shouting his displeasure.
It also seems like we are embracing both sides of the coin at once. As I told a friend recently, having a new baby is the best of times and the worst of times all mixed together. Toddlerhood is the same, I think. For Sebastian the world is an amazing place, but at the same time a frustrating one. He wants to both explore and to be safe with parents. He likes the view from the ground, but the one higher up looks interesting, too, and it's so aggravating that his mama won't let him climb the furniture! He wants to be awake to take it all in, but slowly he's getting tired and nothing will do but to have his Toby and get in bed. Will he miss the garbage truck if he goes to sleep??
Since more than two choices is overwhelming, though, for the toddler and his busy parents, it's often nice to be able to just have one or the other. Just choosing blue or red, up or down, peas or green beans, is a way to simplify and embrace the "less is more" philosophy of life. And when we get bored, we can always choose a third option - both!
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Post script: Speaking of colors, Sebastian has figured out one of them - purple! He can identify a purple object almost every time, and today he refused to take off his purple smock at school, saying "purple...help" until I put it back on.
Sebastian loves to find the two most different states he or an object can have, and alternate them. Over and over and over again. There's no need for fancy toys; give the kid a bottle with a top and he will spend a solid 5-10 minutes saying on, off, on, off as he plays with it (he will also spend the next hour walking around with the bottle). He does the same back and forth routine with light switches, a ball and a box, and - the new favorite - ramps.
For your viewing pleasure, here is Sebastian going up and down the ramp at our local zoo. If you listen closely, you can hear him say up, Mama, and down. I particularly like how he stops to say hi to a stranger passing by.
The only set of opposites he has yet to master is yes and no. He sticks with no no, and lets one of us supply the yes as needed.
The more I thought about this state of living with opposites, the more I realized that it is how life with a toddler is. I find that I am either elated to be home or wishing I were back at work. I am energetic or exhausted. Bewildered or confident. There doesn't seem to be much in between right now, for either of us, really, since Sebastian is usually either laughing out loud or shouting his displeasure.
It also seems like we are embracing both sides of the coin at once. As I told a friend recently, having a new baby is the best of times and the worst of times all mixed together. Toddlerhood is the same, I think. For Sebastian the world is an amazing place, but at the same time a frustrating one. He wants to both explore and to be safe with parents. He likes the view from the ground, but the one higher up looks interesting, too, and it's so aggravating that his mama won't let him climb the furniture! He wants to be awake to take it all in, but slowly he's getting tired and nothing will do but to have his Toby and get in bed. Will he miss the garbage truck if he goes to sleep??
Since more than two choices is overwhelming, though, for the toddler and his busy parents, it's often nice to be able to just have one or the other. Just choosing blue or red, up or down, peas or green beans, is a way to simplify and embrace the "less is more" philosophy of life. And when we get bored, we can always choose a third option - both!
-----------------------
Post script: Speaking of colors, Sebastian has figured out one of them - purple! He can identify a purple object almost every time, and today he refused to take off his purple smock at school, saying "purple...help" until I put it back on.
Getting into the spirit
Finally recovered from our colds (more or less), we decided it was time to jump into the fall season with a little pumpkin picking. We had to dodge the rain and avoid some major mud, but we managed to choose some future jack-o-lanterns (or, as Sebastian calls them, "pun-key...happy!") and grab some cider and doughnuts before the skies opened up again.
"I want that one!"
Sebastian's "Aunt" Katie is also here to help us get into the Halloween spirit. So far the two of them have been having a grand time. We're sure to have many more pictures toward the end of the week (birthday week for the mama - there WILL be cake and ice cream!), but here's one to tide you over.
"I want that one!"
Sebastian's "Aunt" Katie is also here to help us get into the Halloween spirit. So far the two of them have been having a grand time. We're sure to have many more pictures toward the end of the week (birthday week for the mama - there WILL be cake and ice cream!), but here's one to tide you over.
The Sink Trap
Ok, so one woman is quoted as being constantly irritated with her husband because whenever it is his turn to clean the kitchen at the end of the day, he forgets to empty the sink trap. This is disgusting, frankly, and she doesn't see why she should have to do it for him. Clearly. How she solves this problem? She reframes it. Instead of being annoyed that he hasn't cleaned the sink trap, she tells herself, "This is great. Now all I have to do is clean the sink trap." In other words, she thinks about how helpful her husband is so she only has one part of the clean up to do instead of all of it. How wonderful, right? Acceptance and a happy marriage!
NO FREAKING WAY. I read this and became instantly furious. Why should that stupid husband get to do a sub-par job on his day to clean the kitchen? Why should she have to accept that in order to be satisfied with his less-than-sparkling performance? Does HE have to "just clean the sink trap" when it's her turn? Of course not!!
And I referred to this marital problem as The Sink Trap henceforth.
What exactly is The Sink Trap? It's the idea that in order to have happy relationships, women end up just accepting whatever men contribute in order to have peace and harmony. But it's a trap because it's incredibly hard to get out of once you have fallen in. Once you have accepted that he will never clean the sink trap, and he knows you have accepted it, then guess what? He will never clean the freaking sink trap. Ever. This is one reason why women still do far more than their fair share of the raising of children and the household chores, even when they work as many or more hours outside the home as he does.
Many writers have covered this issue in more depth than I will here, discussing the "second shift" and the unfair burden that having children places on women to sort out their "work-life balance," but the reason I write about this now is that The Sink Trap is a major happiness barrier, a subject that is forefront on my mind these days.
I couldn't really see my way around The Sink Trap. It seems pointless to argue about the same things over and over again, and it seems completely ridiculous that women should have to accept less than their husbands' equal participation at home. So how to resolve this?
Let me first say that, like most husbands I know personally, mine is wonderful. Fabulous. Practically the best. He tries to help out a lot. So for the sake of marital harmony, let us just assume that I'm talking about someone else's husband here.
Back to the problem at hand. I think I hit upon a solution this past month while I was doing my most serious thinking about happiness and acceptance, and I decided that the answer lies in being able to do two things simultaneously: refuse to accept unequal treatment or participation AND refuse to get angry. I think not getting angry is the key. There is something about calm refusal to cooperate or accept the unacceptable that does a better job of getting results than getting angry and having Yet Another Argument.
If you know me, you know I'm a hothead and telling me not to get angry is a lot like telling me not to read books or not to breathe. But I'm willing to try it. For peace, for harmony, for the sake of not falling into The Sink Trap.
Things I can't change:
- I'm home full-time this year and therefore run a huge risk of falling into The Sink Trap until I go back to work.
- I work at a different speed and can get more crossed off The List than he can in the same amount of time.
- It really does make me angry that women do so much more of the household and parenting work than men. Feelings can't be helped, only behaviors.
- I can listen when friends tell me about their own experiences with The Sink Trap and let them vent so they can try not to act out their angry feelings at home!
- I can try to gather information and solve the problem before I act angry. Maybe there is an easy solution that will work for everyone and feel more fair.
- I can negotiate a housework-life balance that doesn't make me feel intensely jealous and cheated out of having my own time.
Three more pokes
Fifteen-month well child visit to the doctor today! Of course with his miserably lingering cough, one has a hard time categorizing Sebastian as "well," but... yeah. The doctor pronounced him healthy overall with a great vocabulary. She and I particularly like how he says "hi" and "bye-bye" several minutes after the moment has passed. Anyway, here are the stats his grandparents await:
Weight: 26 pounds. He's back down to the 50-75th percentile like he was in his first few months. This could be due to all the moving around he does now, his lack of eating while sick, or the fact that he's going to be tall and thin like his daddy. Who knows.
Height: 32 inches (75th percentile).
Head circumference: 48.5 cm. (75-90th percentile). The nurse said it was obvious his head was big because he was so smart. I'm sure she says that to all the cute guys she sees. :-)
Anyway, Sebastian was then treated to three shots for four vaccinations, which he handled much more calmly than his 12-month set. Those were miserable! These were forgotten as soon as I handed him the Cheerios. What I would do without Cheerios, I know not.
Weight: 26 pounds. He's back down to the 50-75th percentile like he was in his first few months. This could be due to all the moving around he does now, his lack of eating while sick, or the fact that he's going to be tall and thin like his daddy. Who knows.
Height: 32 inches (75th percentile).
Head circumference: 48.5 cm. (75-90th percentile). The nurse said it was obvious his head was big because he was so smart. I'm sure she says that to all the cute guys she sees. :-)
Anyway, Sebastian was then treated to three shots for four vaccinations, which he handled much more calmly than his 12-month set. Those were miserable! These were forgotten as soon as I handed him the Cheerios. What I would do without Cheerios, I know not.
Wed, Boo (updated)
Though the title suggests some sort of aversion to marriage, this week's fun new skill refers to colors. Sebastian has figured out that objects not only have names, they have other attributes as well (mostly shape and color, though he likes to say big, too). His color knowledge seems really impressive if you show him his favorite red ball and ask him, "What color is the ball?"
Then he'll - oh so confidently - say, "Wed," and sign it, too! Woohoo, I thought at first, he's learning his colors! But he'll quickly follow it up with "Boo." He'll do this for any object whatsoever. Everything is red and if it's not red (or even if Mama says it is), it must be blue.
The current pronunciations:
yellow "reh-woh"
orange "ohn-juh"
green "geen" with a hard g like go not giraffe
purple "puh-poh"
brown "bown"
The very best part of this new skill? It can distract him from virtually any temper tantrum he might be having. I can deny him a fifth walk around the block, a second handful of Elmo crackers (love how he says Elmo, too!), or a zillionth rereading of a book at bedtime, and the ensuing tantrum is halted in its frowny-faced tracks when I utter the following magical sentence, "Sebastian, what color is your shirt?"
I get silence, a look, then a teary, "Wed...Boo."
Love it.
I'll try to add a video later so you can enjoy it from afar.
Here's the video! It took me a couple tries because he kept answering that his shirt was "wed" without doing the "boo"! Perhaps we're getting closer to color understanding...? Clarifications: he says 'hi' at the beginning, the finger down his lips is the sign for "red," and the shaking hand is close to the sign for "blue."
In other NW news, we are finally getting over our horrible cold, much to the daddy's relief. The hacking coughs are all that remain, but they are fewer and farther between. Thanks for the healthy thoughts you sent our way!
Then he'll - oh so confidently - say, "Wed," and sign it, too! Woohoo, I thought at first, he's learning his colors! But he'll quickly follow it up with "Boo." He'll do this for any object whatsoever. Everything is red and if it's not red (or even if Mama says it is), it must be blue.
The current pronunciations:
yellow "reh-woh"
orange "ohn-juh"
green "geen" with a hard g like go not giraffe
purple "puh-poh"
brown "bown"
The very best part of this new skill? It can distract him from virtually any temper tantrum he might be having. I can deny him a fifth walk around the block, a second handful of Elmo crackers (love how he says Elmo, too!), or a zillionth rereading of a book at bedtime, and the ensuing tantrum is halted in its frowny-faced tracks when I utter the following magical sentence, "Sebastian, what color is your shirt?"
I get silence, a look, then a teary, "Wed...Boo."
Love it.
Here's the video! It took me a couple tries because he kept answering that his shirt was "wed" without doing the "boo"! Perhaps we're getting closer to color understanding...? Clarifications: he says 'hi' at the beginning, the finger down his lips is the sign for "red," and the shaking hand is close to the sign for "blue."
In other NW news, we are finally getting over our horrible cold, much to the daddy's relief. The hacking coughs are all that remain, but they are fewer and farther between. Thanks for the healthy thoughts you sent our way!
What am I doing here?
Sick Day number 7. This is getting completely ridiculous. It is only thanks to my helpful husband that I have not been long since buried in dishes and laundry since I take every toddler nap time to lie on the couch. It's not to sleep, though that would be lovely. No, sleep is impossible when one has Watermelon Head. It's just to escape the dizzy feeling I get when vertical. So I find that the one task I can cross off my list every day is to write in this journal {Side note: I hate the word blog. It sounds ugly and heavy like slog and bog and blah. It is a horrible word, and I despise the person who came up with it. Weblog is better. A log is a great word for a journal. Why shorten it to blog? No, thank you.}.
But then I started to think about this journal, this public-yet-not-quite log (since I haven't yet shared it with most people I know), and wondered how I got here and what I'm doing exactly. Last year I took a look around at the stay-at-home options. Mommy and Me classes, playdates (another word I detest), blogs, and mommy groups, and I felt... what's the right word?... confusion? disdain? Many mixed feelings to be sure. I didn't want to have a life in which I became only The Mom who used any free time I had trying to figure out what to do with myself and chose to do mostly things related to being The Mom. I didn't want to be the person who only had friends who were other moms and couldn't talk about anything but our children. I did NOT want to be the person who used my intellect to write about my child day in and day out when I wasn't actively caring for him.
Then, through a convoluted series of unfortunate events and difficult decisions, I became a stay-at-home mom. I still told myself I would do it my way, a different way. Yet a few months into my stint, I have become the mom who does playdates, goes to classes, and lo and behold, begins writing ablog journal. Sigh. How did I get here? And what is the goal?
Well, it started with insomnia, as you may have read in this post. Before that it started with trying to figure out what sort of life I'm trying to have, and what sort of blend of identities I can create for myself (not just mom, but woman, wife, friend, sister, daughter, teacher, neighbor). It then became a task to find other, non-mom-related activities to do. This was immensely difficult since I can only do things in the early morning or evening because this is when my husband can care for our son. So I put my organizational brain to work and signed up for some teaching gigs - some paying, some volunteer - and thought that would help make me feel like an adult, not just a mom.
Though my task list is endless and now I have great teaching opportunities that can fill up my free hours and give me a creative outlet, I still have so much on my mind as I work through my Happiness Project (that may need a name), the Toddler project (he has a name), and the overall Jessica's Life project (which definitely needs a new name).
So here is the question: am I writing this journal because I have nothing more pressing to do with my time? Or am I writing it because it's what I wished I could do but was too busy before? Or some acceptable combination? If it's just the former, I need to get offline and get back to figuring out and achieving some goals. If this is just part of the life balance I wished I had last year and was desperate for when I signed the paperwork to take the year off, then I can move forward.
I'll be back once I've figured it out.
But then I started to think about this journal, this public-yet-not-quite log (since I haven't yet shared it with most people I know), and wondered how I got here and what I'm doing exactly. Last year I took a look around at the stay-at-home options. Mommy and Me classes, playdates (another word I detest), blogs, and mommy groups, and I felt... what's the right word?... confusion? disdain? Many mixed feelings to be sure. I didn't want to have a life in which I became only The Mom who used any free time I had trying to figure out what to do with myself and chose to do mostly things related to being The Mom. I didn't want to be the person who only had friends who were other moms and couldn't talk about anything but our children. I did NOT want to be the person who used my intellect to write about my child day in and day out when I wasn't actively caring for him.
Then, through a convoluted series of unfortunate events and difficult decisions, I became a stay-at-home mom. I still told myself I would do it my way, a different way. Yet a few months into my stint, I have become the mom who does playdates, goes to classes, and lo and behold, begins writing a
Well, it started with insomnia, as you may have read in this post. Before that it started with trying to figure out what sort of life I'm trying to have, and what sort of blend of identities I can create for myself (not just mom, but woman, wife, friend, sister, daughter, teacher, neighbor). It then became a task to find other, non-mom-related activities to do. This was immensely difficult since I can only do things in the early morning or evening because this is when my husband can care for our son. So I put my organizational brain to work and signed up for some teaching gigs - some paying, some volunteer - and thought that would help make me feel like an adult, not just a mom.
Though my task list is endless and now I have great teaching opportunities that can fill up my free hours and give me a creative outlet, I still have so much on my mind as I work through my Happiness Project (that may need a name), the Toddler project (he has a name), and the overall Jessica's Life project (which definitely needs a new name).
So here is the question: am I writing this journal because I have nothing more pressing to do with my time? Or am I writing it because it's what I wished I could do but was too busy before? Or some acceptable combination? If it's just the former, I need to get offline and get back to figuring out and achieving some goals. If this is just part of the life balance I wished I had last year and was desperate for when I signed the paperwork to take the year off, then I can move forward.
I'll be back once I've figured it out.
You always have time...
...for what you do first.I don't remember where I read that quote, but I've been trying to live by it for about a year now. I even tried to teach it to my fourth graders as a lesson in time management. I think probably two of them got it and the rest just nodded along and then did whatever activity was the one that seemed easiest or most fun, but life lessons from ten-year-olds (and there are many!) will have to live in another post.
Time management is apparently this crazy western notion we have because we are overscheduled, underrested, and generally pushing ourselves to the limit. Many others advise scaling back our lives in order to have enough time to really enjoy them. This is good advice, but as my sister and I ask ourselves often, just what exactly can we scale back on these days as mothers of toddlers? I don't think they'd appreciate not being fed, so going to the grocery store has to happen as well as making some meals (and I already cut corners on that aplenty thanks to my trusty microwave).
Anyway, whether you think you can simplify your life or not, it remains true that you always have time for what you do first. Clearly, it's all about priorities. I find that if I'm mindful about what I do first, I tend to be satisfied with however the rest of my day plays out. And if I'm unsatisfied, I can do something else first tomorrow.
So what do I usually do first? I put away the clean dishes. This starts me off putting things where they belong and paves the way for doing so the whole rest of the day by having the dishwasher empty and waiting to be refilled. As I've been sick and not doing this task this week, it's become very apparent to us just how helpful this was for the state of our kitchen and my state of mind.
After that I have breakfast and read emails, blogs, the news, or just whatever strikes my fancy until my son wakes up. On days when I don't get up before he does and don't have a chance to start my day this way, I feel slightly harried. But if hugging my son and reading him a story over his morning milk is what I do first, no one could say that wasn't a pretty good priority either.
How about you - what do you do first?
Image from here.
When you can't do it alone
I don't know what it is about asking for help, but I am terrible at it. There are probably a lot of reasons for this, which include the following facts:
a) I like things to be done my way and therefore would often rather just do them myself
b) I see asking for help as a sign that I can't do it, and deep down I am still trying to be Superwoman.
c) I want others to offer so I don't have to ask.
It is c) that is especially on my mind today, as I finally after four days broke down and asked my husband to take a sick day from work so he could care for SP - who is also sick - and I could take care of only myself. He did half days on Tuesday and Wednesday, but even when he was home I was doing chores or I was still helping with dinner, bathtime, etc. I found myself growing increasingly resentful that I was still trying to take care of everyone when I decided to take a deep breath (through my mouth; my nose is still impossibly stuffed), and recognize that the only person I can really change is myself.
What I can't change:
a) I like things to be done my way and therefore would often rather just do them myself
b) I see asking for help as a sign that I can't do it, and deep down I am still trying to be Superwoman.
c) I want others to offer so I don't have to ask.
It is c) that is especially on my mind today, as I finally after four days broke down and asked my husband to take a sick day from work so he could care for SP - who is also sick - and I could take care of only myself. He did half days on Tuesday and Wednesday, but even when he was home I was doing chores or I was still helping with dinner, bathtime, etc. I found myself growing increasingly resentful that I was still trying to take care of everyone when I decided to take a deep breath (through my mouth; my nose is still impossibly stuffed), and recognize that the only person I can really change is myself.
What I can't change:
- I'm sick today. I have control over tomorrow, perhaps, but today I am distinctly unwell and I need to deal with that fact intelligently so that I can get better.
- My husband is not a mind reader. This falls in the category of things I wouldn't want to change, too, because let's face it: if he knew what I was thinking yesterday while I made dinner as he fell asleep in a chair and the sick toddler was complaining and I was trying not to fall over from the weight of my watermelon head, he would probably have refused to stay home with us today.
- How willing my husband and others are to help out when I do ask.
- I can recognize that I am not Superwoman and that I do not have to take care of a sick toddler by myself when I am sick, too.
- I can ask for what I need, even if I have to be ridiculously specific.
- I can try to stop seeing asking for help as a sign of weakness. It should really be a sign of strength that I know my own limitations and am willing to use the resources I have to get me to where I want to be. I think. I have a feeling this is going to be the sticking point for a while.
A year later...
Because I am too sick to take care of Sebastian today (Daddy's on call, thank goodness), but also too sick to sleep (my head - when will it stop throbbing?!), you get treated to another post this week. The timing is perfect, too, because today Sebastian is
Fifteen Months Old.
This is a strange time, when age is counted in months, so what does it really mean? Well, as I explained to a student at my school last week, it means a year and three months, so I used the cool option in iPhoto to look at only pictures from the last 12 months in order to think about what life was like a year ago. Three months old. It is a little hard to remember without the pictures (so thank goodness I have 3500 of them, according to iPhoto). As my dear friend Rendy said last weekend when we saw a newborn in her daddy's arms, "You mean they didn't just come out walking and talking??" Exactly. I call it the New Normal, because once they move onto the next stage of being, it feels so normal that it's hard to remember how the previous one (or five) felt.
So to remind myself and all of you what it was like a year ago, here are some pictures. A year ago we were getting ready to go to BC for the Cranberry Festival and Canadian Thanksgiving, which we will do again this weekend if we ever get healthy.
Fifteen Months Old.
This is a strange time, when age is counted in months, so what does it really mean? Well, as I explained to a student at my school last week, it means a year and three months, so I used the cool option in iPhoto to look at only pictures from the last 12 months in order to think about what life was like a year ago. Three months old. It is a little hard to remember without the pictures (so thank goodness I have 3500 of them, according to iPhoto). As my dear friend Rendy said last weekend when we saw a newborn in her daddy's arms, "You mean they didn't just come out walking and talking??" Exactly. I call it the New Normal, because once they move onto the next stage of being, it feels so normal that it's hard to remember how the previous one (or five) felt.
So to remind myself and all of you what it was like a year ago, here are some pictures. A year ago we were getting ready to go to BC for the Cranberry Festival and Canadian Thanksgiving, which we will do again this weekend if we ever get healthy.
The fifteen-minute guide to greatness
No, this post won't take you fifteen minutes to read (I don't think), nor is it some guideline to whatever is your particular kind of greatness. Rather, it was my shining moment of introspection that is helping me along in my goal to be happier.
Last weekend I set myself an ambitious task to collect and print out new pictures of pretty much everyone we love to put them on the fridge for my son to enjoy since we live too far away from most of them to see regularly. {He is learning tons of names and his face lights up when he recognizes someone up there! Just wait until Thanksgiving!} Anyway, I spent pretty much every nonparenting, nonsleeping minute working on these pictures, and by Sunday evening they were up and they were lovely. I was proud as I checked it off my (neverending) Task list...
...until I looked around at the rest of the house. I saw dishes in the sink, a full laundry hamper, files still out from my Great Refiling Project, a pile of emails in my inbox. ARGH. Nothing else had been accomplished.
Monday morning rolled around, and I got going with my new Effective Habits list. It is a list of things that I typically forget to do or put off doing. I have it set up so that I don't spend more than fifteen minutes doing any one thing on it. It includes items like "sort and reply to emails" or "put things where they belong." I set a timer on my computer and do as much of those things as I can until the fifteen minutes are up. I give myself a little smiley on the box in my Word table just for finishing fifteen minutes even if the task needs to be continued the next day. I crave metaphorical (or actual) gold stars, so I think the smiley faces are the key to my Effective Habits success. Then I move on to the next thing on the daily list (I have monthly and yearly versions built into the system now, too - another thing I was mocked for by aforementioned teacher friend, but I think it's great!).
And it turns out that I was much happier on Monday evening. I hadn't finished any one task in its entirety like I had the photos, but overall I felt a greater sense of accomplishment. This was a huge Aha! moment for me, as I have always been the sort of person who doesn't like to start a task I can't finish right then. This sort of behavior is what leads to the Disaster Zone my garage has become. But now that I have my fifteen-minute guide to greatness, I think I can tackle pretty much anything. It just might take me a while to finish, but that's true of any parent of a toddler, isn't it?
And now my fifteen minutes of blogging are officially up.
Last weekend I set myself an ambitious task to collect and print out new pictures of pretty much everyone we love to put them on the fridge for my son to enjoy since we live too far away from most of them to see regularly. {He is learning tons of names and his face lights up when he recognizes someone up there! Just wait until Thanksgiving!} Anyway, I spent pretty much every nonparenting, nonsleeping minute working on these pictures, and by Sunday evening they were up and they were lovely. I was proud as I checked it off my (neverending) Task list...
...until I looked around at the rest of the house. I saw dishes in the sink, a full laundry hamper, files still out from my Great Refiling Project, a pile of emails in my inbox. ARGH. Nothing else had been accomplished.
Monday morning rolled around, and I got going with my new Effective Habits list. It is a list of things that I typically forget to do or put off doing. I have it set up so that I don't spend more than fifteen minutes doing any one thing on it. It includes items like "sort and reply to emails" or "put things where they belong." I set a timer on my computer and do as much of those things as I can until the fifteen minutes are up. I give myself a little smiley on the box in my Word table just for finishing fifteen minutes even if the task needs to be continued the next day. I crave metaphorical (or actual) gold stars, so I think the smiley faces are the key to my Effective Habits success. Then I move on to the next thing on the daily list (I have monthly and yearly versions built into the system now, too - another thing I was mocked for by aforementioned teacher friend, but I think it's great!).
And it turns out that I was much happier on Monday evening. I hadn't finished any one task in its entirety like I had the photos, but overall I felt a greater sense of accomplishment. This was a huge Aha! moment for me, as I have always been the sort of person who doesn't like to start a task I can't finish right then. This sort of behavior is what leads to the Disaster Zone my garage has become. But now that I have my fifteen-minute guide to greatness, I think I can tackle pretty much anything. It just might take me a while to finish, but that's true of any parent of a toddler, isn't it?
And now my fifteen minutes of blogging are officially up.
My Addiction
I've decided to choose Tuesdays as my update day, since that's the day of the week Sebastian was born. Funny how I used to count his age in weeks every Tuesday, then in months every 8th, and at some point it will change to years.
Anyway, so what's new this week? Well, we have a cold, which is very sad for everyone. Fortunately The Daddy is not yet sick, so he's able to feel sorry for us and fetch us food when we need it.
But that is not the main thing. The main thing is my confession about my recent addiction. It used to be chocolate, but no longer. Now it is consignment store shopping. There is a consignment store in our town that is wonderful, and I probably go to it once a week, sometimes twice. I am just always sure that there is The Best Deal waiting there for me and if I don't snap it up, someone else will. I mean really: books for a dollar? Gymboree outfits for five dollars?? Sebastian probably has more toys and clothes than any toddler could really want, and still I find reasons to shop. Right now I am still looking for a set of Fridge Phonics that he loved in Michigan, for example, but I digress...
So given my love of bargains, you can imagine my joy at discovering a consignment sale in my town this past weekend. And if I would volunteer at it, I would get to go to the presale and shop before everyone else. JOY! I gave up some family bonding time at the Salmon Days festival in order to volunteer, but it was worth it because I was able to snap up this fabulousness:
My Happiness Project, part one
Since this is a project, this will probably be part one of many posts about it. I started it after spending a considerable amount of time reading The Happiness Project blog, so if you're interested in doing one of your own, you may want to start there rather than here. I'm just derivative.
Nevertheless, my project is underway. I started by trying to think about how to be happier, which meant that I had to try to determine whether I was happy overall, if I felt I should be happier, what things were making me unhappy and many other such circular thoughts. Since I LOVE lists (I sometimes make them just for the joy of organizing my thoughts and then never look at them again), I began making lists of my goals, divided into subcategories like Marital goals, Parental goals, Career goals, etc.
At this point you are probably thinking about how freakish I am and how it's no wonder I needed a project in order to be happier. Or as a teacher friend of mine put it: "Wow, you are SO a teacher on leave right now." This is very true, but it is also true that doing this project made me do a lot of hard work at analyzing my life and what I wanted from it.
Before I get to the goals or resolutions, I wanted to write about my Guiding Principles (or "commandments" as Gretchen Rubin at The Happiness Project calls them). These are statements that I'm using to guide my thoughts, behaviors, and creation of resolutions. They are a work in progress, so I welcome feedback.
Guiding Principles (so far):
Since you're at this site, you can see where I got this one. I have a tendency to relive past events, conversations, etc. and think about them obsessively. I have rationalized this in many ways, such as that it helps me make future choices. This is true but only to a point. There comes a time when I have to move on.
I am a complainer. I admit it. I used to believe that venting was good for me, helping me to blow off steam. I blamed it on my bad temper and excused it because usually my bad mood didn't last long. But I've learned that this is often a surefire way to ruin my day (or keep from improving it).
My "Solve the Problem" mantra has changed my teaching and my life. If I can't solve the problem, it goes in category one. Complaining is pointless. If I can solve it, complaining is also pointless. It's time to think and talk about solutions and action.
3. Do what ought to be done. (a.k.a. You always have time for what you do first.)
This one I borrowed from the original Happiness Project. I am a reigning Queen of the land of Distraction and Procrastination. I often find that I get to the end of a day (or week or month) and realize that all the things I was sure I would get done haven't even been touched. I would make my lists, start off with great intentions, keep to my good habits for a short period of time, then slack off. The more "free time" I have, the worse I am about this. You can imagine how worried I was about having an entire year off work. I made a zillion plans for how I would fill the time, but would I actually do it? With this mantra in place, the answer is yes. Even when taking into account the time I'm using to work on these sites! More about my Effective Habits resolution in another post.
I have a tendency to be just a little...tiny...bit judgmental. Ok, a lot. Mostly of myself, but of others, too. This guiding principle is intended to force me to ask questions, listen, try to understand, and in the absence of information to give the benefit of the doubt. My sister is particularly good at this. She'll be behind someone in (very annoying) BC traffic and instead of getting angry, she'll say, "Maybe he's on his way to the hospital because his wife is in labor, so that's why he's driving like an idiot." This not only makes me laugh, it helps put behaviors into a perspective of knowing that you don't know the full story. Probably the driver really was just using poor judgment, but you can't be sure, and it makes me happier to err on the side of believing the best about people.
Back to Listen First. I am finding that this works in many small and large ways. When I get an upset email from a student's parent, I try to think, "What is this parent really upset about? Why is he or she emailing me?" Starting from that point, rather than being defensive about whatever was specifically said, has smoothed over many a ruffled feather. I also find that asking my husband about his day before I launch into talking about my own helps keep me from falling back into Compulsive Complaining.
This goes along with trying not to be as critical of others. I have (many, obvious) character flaws, and I decided that until I am perfect in a given area, I shouldn't get to criticize others about it. For example, until I can keep every item of my own in place, I shouldn't get irritated with my husband for leaving things out on the kitchen counter. {Confession: I did just blow up one morning when he left the Cheerios out and open for the three hundred and forty-seventh time. I did mention this was a work in progress, right??}
This one has been a struggle for me, as I also don't want to just accept behavior that should be unacceptable (more about The Sink Trap in a later post). I finally decided that there is a difference between throwing a stone - being critical - and giving constructive criticism or trying to solve a problem together.
This one started out as just a continuation of the constant reminders from my mom and big sister when I was younger, but has evolved into something more. Yes, it still means I should stand up straight, which is just ridiculous for a former dancer to have to remind herself. As soon as I step onto the dance floor, I put my shoulders down and back, stand up straight and tall, and move more or less gracefully. When I walk off the floor, I slouch like a thirteen-year-old uncomfortable in her skin. Every time I see pictures of myself, I grimace at my hunched shoulders. So yes, it is a reminder to look my best.
This has turned into something more than that, though. I not only am trying to look like the person I want to be, I am clearly trying to act like that person. I'm trying to behave as though my mom or my Grandpa can see me, and if they would be proud, I can be proud. If they can't, then I have probably strayed from being my Best Self. It is also a reminder to stand up for what I believe in. Many of those who know me would say that I speak my mind regularly. What they don't know is how often I bite my tongue and am sorry later that I didn't say what I wanted to (or how often I wished I'd just followed principle number 4 and listened first instead of talking so much).
--------------------------------------------
So that's what I have so far. I'm still trying to narrow down the titles, as you can see from the fact that many have two names. They all go hand in hand, but having the labels for the behaviors I want to have is helping me to get there. In small steps. I don't like doing things in small stages, usually - I'm a huge fan of Major Overhauls - but my toddler has taught me that you can go pretty far with those tiny steps if you have a goal in mind. No reason why "Get crackers now!" can't be as motivating as "Be happier," right?
Nevertheless, my project is underway. I started by trying to think about how to be happier, which meant that I had to try to determine whether I was happy overall, if I felt I should be happier, what things were making me unhappy and many other such circular thoughts. Since I LOVE lists (I sometimes make them just for the joy of organizing my thoughts and then never look at them again), I began making lists of my goals, divided into subcategories like Marital goals, Parental goals, Career goals, etc.
At this point you are probably thinking about how freakish I am and how it's no wonder I needed a project in order to be happier. Or as a teacher friend of mine put it: "Wow, you are SO a teacher on leave right now." This is very true, but it is also true that doing this project made me do a lot of hard work at analyzing my life and what I wanted from it.
Before I get to the goals or resolutions, I wanted to write about my Guiding Principles (or "commandments" as Gretchen Rubin at The Happiness Project calls them). These are statements that I'm using to guide my thoughts, behaviors, and creation of resolutions. They are a work in progress, so I welcome feedback.
Guiding Principles (so far):
1. Accept the things I cannot change.
Since you're at this site, you can see where I got this one. I have a tendency to relive past events, conversations, etc. and think about them obsessively. I have rationalized this in many ways, such as that it helps me make future choices. This is true but only to a point. There comes a time when I have to move on.
2. Change the things I can (Solve the Problem).
I am a complainer. I admit it. I used to believe that venting was good for me, helping me to blow off steam. I blamed it on my bad temper and excused it because usually my bad mood didn't last long. But I've learned that this is often a surefire way to ruin my day (or keep from improving it).
My "Solve the Problem" mantra has changed my teaching and my life. If I can't solve the problem, it goes in category one. Complaining is pointless. If I can solve it, complaining is also pointless. It's time to think and talk about solutions and action.
3. Do what ought to be done. (a.k.a. You always have time for what you do first.)
This one I borrowed from the original Happiness Project. I am a reigning Queen of the land of Distraction and Procrastination. I often find that I get to the end of a day (or week or month) and realize that all the things I was sure I would get done haven't even been touched. I would make my lists, start off with great intentions, keep to my good habits for a short period of time, then slack off. The more "free time" I have, the worse I am about this. You can imagine how worried I was about having an entire year off work. I made a zillion plans for how I would fill the time, but would I actually do it? With this mantra in place, the answer is yes. Even when taking into account the time I'm using to work on these sites! More about my Effective Habits resolution in another post.
4. Listen First & Give the benefit of the doubt.
I have a tendency to be just a little...tiny...bit judgmental. Ok, a lot. Mostly of myself, but of others, too. This guiding principle is intended to force me to ask questions, listen, try to understand, and in the absence of information to give the benefit of the doubt. My sister is particularly good at this. She'll be behind someone in (very annoying) BC traffic and instead of getting angry, she'll say, "Maybe he's on his way to the hospital because his wife is in labor, so that's why he's driving like an idiot." This not only makes me laugh, it helps put behaviors into a perspective of knowing that you don't know the full story. Probably the driver really was just using poor judgment, but you can't be sure, and it makes me happier to err on the side of believing the best about people.
Back to Listen First. I am finding that this works in many small and large ways. When I get an upset email from a student's parent, I try to think, "What is this parent really upset about? Why is he or she emailing me?" Starting from that point, rather than being defensive about whatever was specifically said, has smoothed over many a ruffled feather. I also find that asking my husband about his day before I launch into talking about my own helps keep me from falling back into Compulsive Complaining.
5. Don't throw the first stone.
This goes along with trying not to be as critical of others. I have (many, obvious) character flaws, and I decided that until I am perfect in a given area, I shouldn't get to criticize others about it. For example, until I can keep every item of my own in place, I shouldn't get irritated with my husband for leaving things out on the kitchen counter. {Confession: I did just blow up one morning when he left the Cheerios out and open for the three hundred and forty-seventh time. I did mention this was a work in progress, right??}
This one has been a struggle for me, as I also don't want to just accept behavior that should be unacceptable (more about The Sink Trap in a later post). I finally decided that there is a difference between throwing a stone - being critical - and giving constructive criticism or trying to solve a problem together.
6. Stand up straight or Be my Best Self.
This one started out as just a continuation of the constant reminders from my mom and big sister when I was younger, but has evolved into something more. Yes, it still means I should stand up straight, which is just ridiculous for a former dancer to have to remind herself. As soon as I step onto the dance floor, I put my shoulders down and back, stand up straight and tall, and move more or less gracefully. When I walk off the floor, I slouch like a thirteen-year-old uncomfortable in her skin. Every time I see pictures of myself, I grimace at my hunched shoulders. So yes, it is a reminder to look my best.
This has turned into something more than that, though. I not only am trying to look like the person I want to be, I am clearly trying to act like that person. I'm trying to behave as though my mom or my Grandpa can see me, and if they would be proud, I can be proud. If they can't, then I have probably strayed from being my Best Self. It is also a reminder to stand up for what I believe in. Many of those who know me would say that I speak my mind regularly. What they don't know is how often I bite my tongue and am sorry later that I didn't say what I wanted to (or how often I wished I'd just followed principle number 4 and listened first instead of talking so much).
--------------------------------------------
So that's what I have so far. I'm still trying to narrow down the titles, as you can see from the fact that many have two names. They all go hand in hand, but having the labels for the behaviors I want to have is helping me to get there. In small steps. I don't like doing things in small stages, usually - I'm a huge fan of Major Overhauls - but my toddler has taught me that you can go pretty far with those tiny steps if you have a goal in mind. No reason why "Get crackers now!" can't be as motivating as "Be happier," right?
A Move
After I wrote a post for this blog the other night, I realized that I needed a separate outlet for my thoughts, rather than using this one which should be reserved for family updates and newsy items that grandparents and the Aunt Hill most covet. So after resisting blogging in general, I went from zero to three in a short time.
I don't think I'll be able to keep them all maintained, so I'll just work on whatever one is keeping me up at night. For now, that will be the new one: some wisdom to know the difference. I'll be back later to expound upon my Vegetable Battles and Sebastian's new favorite word ("happy").
I don't think I'll be able to keep them all maintained, so I'll just work on whatever one is keeping me up at night. For now, that will be the new one: some wisdom to know the difference. I'll be back later to expound upon my Vegetable Battles and Sebastian's new favorite word ("happy").
Friends and Family
To move or not to move, that was the question my husband and I were mulling over one night not long ago. We live far, far away from where I grew up and where the majority of my family still resides. Home, sweet Michigan. When we moved to Washington (thank you, Microsoft), we had a roughly 5-year plan to stay before moving home to start a family.
I remember sitting on the plane as I flew out here to find us a place to live and mulling over the future as I passed fields and then mountains. It dawned on me, quite suddenly, right about when we were flying over the Cascades, that I would be having my first child out here. The idea that we would both quit our jobs, find new ones, and move home all right before becoming parents was suddenly absurd. I started to cry, thinking of having a baby so far from all of the relatives who had helped raise me: my parents, grandparents, the Aunt Hill. But there was nothing for it.
Fifteen months ago, our son joined the family and we set up a website to share his pictures and progress with our relatives. Many of my generation had also moved away from home and this seemed a bit more normal. A very tiny little bit. But every so often it comes back to me how much my baby grows up in between visits home, and how much he -and I- am missing out on by being a long plane ride away.
Last year while I did a weird amalgam of teaching part-time and caring for two boys the other part (my guy and the son of my teaching partner), I didn't have as much time to yearn for home. Now, with him full time, it feels completely pointless to me to be out here. If I'm going to be focusing on raising my toddler to be a happy, healthy human being, why on earth would I not tap many of the very people I credit for whatever mental health and happiness I currently have?
So I said as much to my husband that night. At 11:00. He was unimpressed with my timing.
A bit of friction and a night or so later, I brought it up again. Why on earth are we here? The answers were both long and short, and made us think a lot about what is most important, not just to us but to SP, our son. What is the best life we can give him? What is the sense of family we want him to have? How can we achieve those goals? {It is clear we think a lot of things about his life are in our control. This is a false impression, as any parent knows, but we all do what little we can to think we matter.}
And what about friends? My husband maintained when we moved out here that our friends would become like family. I looked at him in blatant disbelief. I probably did more than look. I may have even choked on my airline drink and scoffed audibly. No one who has grown up in a family like mine could or would ever make such a statement, I thought.
But I figured I would try. I would create new traditions, I would celebrate holidays with new friends, I would build a support system here that I could lean on when future children were born. So I tried. Ok, I cried at every holiday when I wasn't home, and I might have made my husband a little miserable in the run-up to each one. But I did make new friends and I did make a big effort. And the bottom line is that it didn't really work. Though I truly love some of the friends I've made here, overall I don't feel like I have a family network here in WA. I don't think this is a major shortcoming on my part. I blame my family for spoiling me and making it too hard to replicate the warmth and laughter and deep sense of safety I have with them.
We talked about what it meant to have a family or even friends that felt like family, and I told him that it involves being part of something bigger than yourself. It involves being one part of the web, not just a hub with individual spokes than connect only through you. A family has that naturally, and it is strengthened in mine by the fact that we like each other, too. Building a web of friends is considerably harder unless you have an easy baseline connection like a hobby or work.
Sigh.
Our conversation unresolved beyond the point of agreeing that we should stay for at least another few years for various (important, I grudgingly acknowledged) reasons, I've been thinking, thinking, thinking. And usually when I do that much thinking, I come back around to my serenity prayer, and that landed me here.
What I can't change:
I live here now. I'm going to live here for at least another few years.
What I wouldn't want to change:
What I can change:
I remember sitting on the plane as I flew out here to find us a place to live and mulling over the future as I passed fields and then mountains. It dawned on me, quite suddenly, right about when we were flying over the Cascades, that I would be having my first child out here. The idea that we would both quit our jobs, find new ones, and move home all right before becoming parents was suddenly absurd. I started to cry, thinking of having a baby so far from all of the relatives who had helped raise me: my parents, grandparents, the Aunt Hill. But there was nothing for it.
Fifteen months ago, our son joined the family and we set up a website to share his pictures and progress with our relatives. Many of my generation had also moved away from home and this seemed a bit more normal. A very tiny little bit. But every so often it comes back to me how much my baby grows up in between visits home, and how much he -and I- am missing out on by being a long plane ride away.
Last year while I did a weird amalgam of teaching part-time and caring for two boys the other part (my guy and the son of my teaching partner), I didn't have as much time to yearn for home. Now, with him full time, it feels completely pointless to me to be out here. If I'm going to be focusing on raising my toddler to be a happy, healthy human being, why on earth would I not tap many of the very people I credit for whatever mental health and happiness I currently have?
So I said as much to my husband that night. At 11:00. He was unimpressed with my timing.
A bit of friction and a night or so later, I brought it up again. Why on earth are we here? The answers were both long and short, and made us think a lot about what is most important, not just to us but to SP, our son. What is the best life we can give him? What is the sense of family we want him to have? How can we achieve those goals? {It is clear we think a lot of things about his life are in our control. This is a false impression, as any parent knows, but we all do what little we can to think we matter.}
And what about friends? My husband maintained when we moved out here that our friends would become like family. I looked at him in blatant disbelief. I probably did more than look. I may have even choked on my airline drink and scoffed audibly. No one who has grown up in a family like mine could or would ever make such a statement, I thought.
But I figured I would try. I would create new traditions, I would celebrate holidays with new friends, I would build a support system here that I could lean on when future children were born. So I tried. Ok, I cried at every holiday when I wasn't home, and I might have made my husband a little miserable in the run-up to each one. But I did make new friends and I did make a big effort. And the bottom line is that it didn't really work. Though I truly love some of the friends I've made here, overall I don't feel like I have a family network here in WA. I don't think this is a major shortcoming on my part. I blame my family for spoiling me and making it too hard to replicate the warmth and laughter and deep sense of safety I have with them.
We talked about what it meant to have a family or even friends that felt like family, and I told him that it involves being part of something bigger than yourself. It involves being one part of the web, not just a hub with individual spokes than connect only through you. A family has that naturally, and it is strengthened in mine by the fact that we like each other, too. Building a web of friends is considerably harder unless you have an easy baseline connection like a hobby or work.
Sigh.
Our conversation unresolved beyond the point of agreeing that we should stay for at least another few years for various (important, I grudgingly acknowledged) reasons, I've been thinking, thinking, thinking. And usually when I do that much thinking, I come back around to my serenity prayer, and that landed me here.
What I can't change:
I live here now. I'm going to live here for at least another few years.
What I wouldn't want to change:
- The friends I have here already, and the wonderful fact that I live only two hours from my sister, brother-in-law, and hilarious nephew X.
- The beauty of being close to urban, suburban, and rural areas.
- The mountains and water. I cannot get enough of them.
What I can change:
- How much I connect with my family given the modern-day conveniences of the phone and internet.
- My attitude about living so far. This is an experience, too, and has its goods and bads just like living in Michigan would.
- How I spend time with my friends, and whether I let them more into my life and heart.
Decluttering
I've been trying to declutter my life, and realized after several consecutive nights of insomnia that it might be wise to begin with my brain. How does one declutter a brain? Meditation? Perhaps. I've never been very good at meditating, which is obvious because one needs a decluttered mind in order to be good at it, to learn meditation in order to declutter. A circle I have yet to penetrate. So how else to clear out all of these thoughts? {Interesting side note: I accidentally typed medication the first time. Freudian slip?}
Well, I've been reading a lot of blogs lately. I blame...ahem, credit... two people for this: my neighbor for writing funny, sweet stories about her daughter on her MommyBrain blog, and Gretchen Rubin at The Happiness Project who has been instrumental in helping me on my quest for serenity. In any case, they've linked me to lots of other great blogs which probably contributed a bit to my mental clutter, but also gave me the idea that it's helpful to just put a lot of these thoughts out there.
I've resisted this for many reasons that have to do with my battle to determine my sense of self as I redefine it in the wake of recent motherhood. Even after sleepless nights, I figured there was little point in writing a blog; why not just write a journal? Why post things for the world to see? I am already slightly obsessed with feedback and getting gold stars and being in the spotlight. Won't a blog just exacerbate those drama queen tendencies? Perhaps, and yet I find the sharing of stories and ideas invaluable. I've learned a lot already and been given all kinds of food for thought by the aforementioned blogs and their blogging counterparts, so... maybe the teacher in me thinks others could learn from my thoughts and experiences.
Or else I'm just trying to make my mental clutter your mental clutter. Hard to say.
Well, I've been reading a lot of blogs lately. I blame...ahem, credit... two people for this: my neighbor for writing funny, sweet stories about her daughter on her MommyBrain blog, and Gretchen Rubin at The Happiness Project who has been instrumental in helping me on my quest for serenity. In any case, they've linked me to lots of other great blogs which probably contributed a bit to my mental clutter, but also gave me the idea that it's helpful to just put a lot of these thoughts out there.
I've resisted this for many reasons that have to do with my battle to determine my sense of self as I redefine it in the wake of recent motherhood. Even after sleepless nights, I figured there was little point in writing a blog; why not just write a journal? Why post things for the world to see? I am already slightly obsessed with feedback and getting gold stars and being in the spotlight. Won't a blog just exacerbate those drama queen tendencies? Perhaps, and yet I find the sharing of stories and ideas invaluable. I've learned a lot already and been given all kinds of food for thought by the aforementioned blogs and their blogging counterparts, so... maybe the teacher in me thinks others could learn from my thoughts and experiences.
Or else I'm just trying to make my mental clutter your mental clutter. Hard to say.
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