Ten Minutes

Prompted by Jena, here I go:

Feeling exhausted, don't really know why. Too much sugar today? Or perhaps it's the punctuation after the unusually restful previous two days while E was visiting his grandparents and there were only two (humans) under four feet in the house (and two felines).

Feeling untethered, craving connection, but too tired to write, just surfing instead, visiting all you wonderful people, but almost too tired to leave comments, being voyeureuse, lurking instead. Why not get off, at least connect with the one other human in this house who is conscious?

Feeling a bit stressed I suppose. Vacation is supposed to be happy and fun. I suddenly realized that our laid back trip is coming up very soon, and no plans have been made, or at least they haven't been finalized. One must make plans, right? And charge up the portable movie player for the drive. And bring the tent. And get someone to care for the cats. And we'll only be gone 5 days and staying at the family cottage, but still ...

I am still making progress. The work room is getting more organized. Soon, I may actually be able to work in there, to cut some glass, make some progress on my project. But it feels good even just to put a few more things in order.

V is delightful at five months, eating sweet potatoes, rice cereal, and pears, playing in his jumperoo, on his baby gym, and sometimes, still, only wanting to be held. He has started to delight in baths, only an inch or so of warm water in the tub, sitting (with help) or lying down, splashing, cooing, giggling, and squealing with delight. His delight is my delight.

Didn't succeed in not editing this post, but at least I didn't edit it much.

I've been wanting to say, though, and haven't figured out how to change my profile quite the way I want it, that I go by rocketmom here, but my name is really Cheryl.

Tough Day Wandering

You can read why, below.

Instead of our shared sadness bringing us together, we somehow seemed to be pushing eachother's button's all day. Or rather, it seemed that the Painter, who was ever so close to Mira ("I like her best because she's the sweetest kitty") was provoking the rest of us. And, we were all cranky from lack of sleep last night. Completely understandable, but not what I would have wanted. Shouldn't we have banded together, had many big group hugs, been indulgent, done something creative? Shouldn't we have been more understanding that the one who protested that he loved her the most was, at least, hurting as much as the rest of us, and having not been through this before, in need of extra care himself? What about extra care for ourselves? Some of that ... but mostly the day felt like wandering aimlessly.

In the light of today, I feel again like I am wandering aimlessly. What are my goals? What is my purpose in being here? How can I find time for myself? We seem to have drifted from one thing to another this week, in this homeschooling experiment of ours. Several days with outings ended up with cranky mommy.

Am I crazy to attempt these things myself anyway? I don't easily ask for help, because I rarely really need it. I am strong and self-sufficient, am I not? I crave connection, but I rarely reach out. Here I am in my own little world, some days not even letting in the three little boys for whom I am constant companion, gofer, waitress, maid, playmate, milk factory. I want to be strong; how could it really be difficult, this thing that I am doing, raising my boys in a new city, homeschooling, potty-training, nursing.

And where is AD? Gladly busy with his business, things are moving, much interest ... but we get much less of his attention than we are accustomed to. And much more. Here we are all cooped up together in this house, with the basement playroom/entertainment room still not complete, no tv to lean on as a crutch - don't like to use it anyway, but sometimes crutches are very helpful! And I say to myself, here is my plan, get out everyday, get out in the morning, but I sometimes feel like I am dragging a mammoth behind me - I can't move until I get some help from the mammoth. How many times can I ask them to go get their shoes? And where should we go? We've been to the zoo and the nature center and the library. We've been to the playground down the street and to the one near the beach. We've been for bike rides and walks. We've been shopping, but that has its own dangers.

It would be really nice to get the stack of boxes out of the living room and the extra refrigerator out of the garage. I suppose we could just move the boxes to another room ...

Grieving in my own way, nothing seems to be right. Perhaps that is how the Painter felt all day, too.

New Routine

I guess I'm going to have to find one - at least, that is, if I ever want to get to the computer.

The schedule we have (and which I have been a part of since yesterday) is very nice, in some ways. I get to spend one-on-one time with the Inventor in the morning while the Painter is in school, and then switch after lunch, while the Inventor has his nap.

Right now, I am practicing presence. I am enjoying watching my boys and playing with them, reading with them, and exploring the world. We have been talking a lot about the baby, who is expected to arrive now in about a month. I am trying to tune into the boys as well. The Painter seems to be excited about the arrival of the baby, wants to talk to him, feel him move, and ask lots of questions we had no idea we would need to answer for many more years. (But how does the baby get out of your tummy? How did the baby get *in* your tummy?). The Inventor, on the other hand, shows some interest, but also some apprehension. He hasn't been through this before, and it seems he is concerned about losing mommy. So I am trying to give him extra attention, reassurance, and cuddling.

I'm also listening to my body. The more I pay attention, the more I realize what a good thing it is not to be working right now. Yesterday I felt pretty good, so we did some projects and went to the library. I felt some contractions (not painful), reminding me to drink more water. Today I was tired, so I rested a lot, and let the boys play around me.

AD asked me yesterday: "So, do you miss engineering yet?" No, I don't. I have been enjoying my time off, the holidays, and time with my family - the boys, AD, and my parents, while they were visiting last week.

But back to routine. I know I will begin to think I do nothing but laundry, as that is one feeling I distinctly remember from the last time I wasn't working. And another I remember is that while I need not schedule everything strictly, if I have some ideas in mind of what I'd like to do, I am less likely to feel like I am doing nothing.

Of course, when the next one arrives, any routine aside from sleep, change, and eat will go out the window. And, that will be okay. But if I can figure out how to give myself some time now - for writing, blogging, painting, reading, whatever - I am more likely to be able to continue to give myself some time next month.

So, this being my first post of the new year, I resolve to give myself time for whatever it is I need to be me.

My Mother's Life

This spilled from my mind last week ... and now I have edited enough.

There was a time in my life when I feared becoming my mother. It's not that I didn't love her or appreciate her loving mothering. But, I saw her as a failure, as someone who had given up on her budding career before it ever went anywhere and became "just a housewife".

When Mom started college she wanted to be a doctor. She graduated with honors, with a BS in the sciences. At the time, though, she was engaged to my father and decided not to continue her education. She applied for a few industry jobs, but with an engagement ring on her finger, she was subject to the kind of discrimination that we, thankfully, don't see much today. The story I heard about one company's attitude was: "What if your husband gets transferred? We don't want the trouble of finding someone new then." Although she was very qualified, they didn't hire her. (And 37 years later, my father works for the same company and was never transferred far enough to consider moving the household.)

Those rejections were a good excuse to get started on a family. I was born 10 months after Mom & Dad were married. She substitute taught while pregnant with me, and didn't return to work until a few years after my brother (two years younger) was in school. That's about 8 years of being "just a mom". When she went back, it was to a teacher's assistant position: not a career I considered worth aspiring to when I was a young woman, but something that allowed her to be home when her children were.

I always thought Mom had given up on her dreams. But, in the light of my own experiences, I see that if she had really wanted to pursue becoming a doctor, had wanted to pursue a job in industry, she probably could have done so. Mom is not a much of a fighter, and it would have been difficult ... but I think that if she really wanted to pursue these career choices, then she would have kept at it longer, tried harder. Perhaps she thought that some day she would return to her dreams of a career, or maybe she didn't. But ultimately, that wasn't her choice.

When she became a teaching assistant, a lowly "teacher's aide", Mom achieved many things I imagine she wanted. Time enough for family, to raise two beautiful self-confident children who could dream of astronomical careers, time enough for religion, time enough for personal pursuits, and a job where she could work with kids and help people. Although her work was not at the top of society's standards for success, she was respected, and used her mind. She taught Sunday school, and became superintendent of Sunday school for the church. She became president of the church. She was active with her sorority, and held various leadership positions. She read, a lot, and shared her love of reading with me. She sang in the church choir. She has done many wonderful, worthwhile things with her life, even without an ambitious career.

When I was younger, it was hard for me to accept my mother's choices. The conflict I feel about leaving my career now leads me to believe that it is still difficult for me to accept, especially from myself. How can I, that young girl that dreamed of the stars, accept that my career is no longer important to me, that it's okay to let it go? The path is right in front of me.

In the past, I have feared becoming my mother. But I am no longer afraid. With the haze of fear removed from my eyes, I recognize what a wonderful role model she has been for me. And I see that she still has much to teach me. I will live, and love, and move in new directions.

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Birthday to Me

Thirty-six years ago today, I was born. In honor of my birthday, I am participating in the LTMD Group writing project. It has taken me all week to come up with these rules or I might have posted sooner. But, better late than never ...

The Law According to Me
or, "10 Eclectic Rules to Live by in the order that they occurred to me"

1. Stop & smell the roses. Although it may be cliche, this is one of my favorites. I love roses. I love the fragrance of roses. I try to always stop and smell the roses (and lavender and rosemary, etc.) and in so doing, remember to appreciate the beauty in life.

2. The minivan is not a mini Cooper. It's always bigger than you think it is. Corollary: it's not any cooler with those scratches on the bumpers.

4. Communicate, part I. No one can read your mind. For that matter, no one can read my mind. So if you have something to say, just say it.

3. Communicate, part II. Yelling is not talking. Whining is not talking. One "very" is enough. I can't understand when you talk with your mouth full. I can't translate meow-ish or woof-ish or Painter-ish or Inventor-ish. If you want mommy to answer you, then please speak calmly in English.

5. Make love not war. This one is tough to manage even in the microcosm of our own household, but as the benefits are great, it is worth trying.

6. Take time to reflect. Really. If I did this more often, writing down ten rules to live by might come more easily.

7. Write. In your blog or your journal, or in letters to friends, or a poem. Writing helps me connect with my emotions, to understand my feelings; I get lost much more easily when I neglect to write.

8. Turn off the TV. This is second nature in our household by now. We have a wonderful wide-screen flat-panel TV that gets, on average, an hour of use each day. Poor thing probably feels neglected.

9. Get out of the house. There are always things to do around the house, but you'll be happier if you get out and away from the usual distractions.

10. Celebrate life. On your birthday and everyday. Celebrations don't need to be extravagant to be beautiful. Life is a wonderful journey. See rule #1.

What do I want?

If posed the question in some drastic hypothetical form, such as "If you knew you only had five years to live, what would you do now?" or "If you just won the lottery and you knew you never had to worry about money again, what would you do?", I invariably answer that I would quit my job. But the rational part of my self argues that these questions do not represent my reality, and I should make my life decisions based on the current facts of my life.

Okay. So here are the facts of my life: I generally spend one to one and a half hours commuting each workday, so that I can sit in front of a computer all day, accomplish far less than I am capable of, and feel guilty that I didn't do more. Why do I sit in front of a computer all day if I am not accomplishing anything? Guilt, I suppose. Getting stuck. Avoiding thinking about the issues that keep me where I ostensibly do not want to be. On the weekends, I steal as much time for myself as possible, and otherwise go with the flow. The boys want to make a fort in the family room? Ok. They want to watch a DVD? Ok. My husband wants to talk? Ok. We need something from the grocery store? Ok (but better if I can go by myself!)

If I quit my job, take the proverbial off-ramp, what would I be doing? Staying home with the boys, probably. At least, that is the default response, since someone needs to watch them. But ... it's not my family that I am thinking about all day while I am trying to (not) work. What do I think about? Whether or not I should keep my job, work part-time, or quit altogether after the baby is born; what books I would read if I had the time; where we should live; connecting with other people.

Connecting. Last night we went to local synagogue, had a nice time meeting people, feeling a part of a community. It makes me think twice for the hundredth time about whether we should leave our current locale. I feel very isolated here, but how can I make connections if we keep moving every year or two? How odd, then, that I sit around and think about connecting with people, reading about other people, lurking, instead of actually calling up a friend or inviting someone to lunch. And if connecting with people is what I really want, how is quitting work going to help?

And how does blogging help me connect with my 5-yr-old, who obviously wants my attention right now?