Musings

Moving On... but Taking It All With Me

2009-01-03T22:00:00.002-06:00

18 days and counting.

I thought I'd be so disciplined and write everything down. The moment I first felt her. The moment her daddy first felt her. And hopefully I will before I forget it all.

Tonight I am making playlists for my iPod - a great suggestion made by the doula that taught our birthing class. During active labor (pre-pushing) that the goal is to relax and endure the contractions while remaining upright and mobile - or calm me during transition labor and get me to focus. Or perhaps to keep me 'pumped up' while pushing. All kinds of music for many situations.

I'm going through my library and dropping songs in here and there. Going through some of the songs, I began wondering if I would want to hear songs that are attached to poignant memories. I hovered the mouse over a few, but in the end, those memories are from events that molded me. And perhaps some of those songs will eventually hold new memories.

Something?

2008-08-30T10:54:00.003-05:00

20 weeks.... I had my latest check up this week. My weight gain (or lack of a lot), belly size, and uterus are "fantastic". Every visit the nurse has to dig and poke and prod to find the baby's heartbeat. As soon as she put the "microphone" to my stomach, the heartbeat was loud and clear! Then the baby moved slightly, but we picked it up right again. Since I have yet to feel any movement, this was great. I keep poking and holding my breath for the "flutter" everyone talks about. Nothing.

This morning I was in bed eating my breakfast. In true relaxed fashion, I had my bowl resting on the top of my stomach. I watched it rock with the beat of my heart I could feel inside me. After a few minutes, I moved the bowl on top of my uterus and held very still. I SWEAR the bowl was rocking in double-time. So I moved the bowl back and forth from stomach to uterus a few times. Sure enough - the rhythm was different.

Not very high-tech or scientific. But lovely.

Names

2008-08-17T12:16:00.003-05:00

People always ask what names I have chosen for the baby. To be honest, I just started thinking about the subject. I actually had a list started a year ago - something to keep around for when the time came. Is that very female of me?

My husband and I were walking today and settled on the strongest possibility for a girl's name. I've been warned by some not to tell people the name until the baby is born. You can share the sex, sure - but the name, no way. It still surprises me to consider this, but I guess it is very commonplace for people to share their displeasure with a name before the child is actually born. I would never consider sharing my opinion with someone. I suppose I am seeing the reality and benefit of it. My husband has already stated that you can't name the baby until it is born - what if it doesn't look like it's name? Good thought.

So in the meantime - till we make a final decision on what to share - it shall remain Heroditus.

A Good Sign

2008-08-10T19:55:00.003-05:00

Today we hosted an old friend of my husband's. He and his wife delighted us with their 1 1/2 year old, Catherine. She was quite boisterous and chatty. Very expressive vocally and physically, despite not saying any intelligible. She was fun.

We spent some time in the backyard. She got a kick out of watching Curtis kick the ball and watching Cooper fetch it. I noticed Cooper keeping an eye on her and running up to her when she ventured into certain parts of the yard (keep in mind, he's taller). He would run along side her and put his mouth on her hands, lightly "mouthing", yet not biting. He would nose her in the shoulder and try and get in front of her. I soon realized that his brand new, 14" smoked bone was in the vicinity. We moved the bone and all was good. As Catherine moved up and down the stairs from the deck to the yard he would do the same thing. Again, we realized he must have something buried under the deck next to the steps. Due to her size, he approached her as a threat - yet did not respond that way to her parents - people unfamiliar to him.

It was interesting to watch Cooper around their daughter. He was quite interested in her diaper, licked hands and feet. Sniffed her ears and neck. She was very tolerant and not scared - quite impressive for such a young one. She would just giggle and squirm when he approached her.

As we try and gauge how Cooper will respond to our own child, it was interesting to watch his behavior around her. The slight, gentle - yet serious - warnings that something less gentle could happen - if we're not vigilant. It was interesting to watch - and I believe, a good sign.

Thank God I just have to give birth for now...

2008-07-20T21:26:00.004-05:00

Sunday mornings usually find C, Coop, and I hiking through one of our usual haunts. This morning it the canals, a series of ponds and trails next to the Rock River surrounded by scrub forest. There is a lot of shade (good for us) and a lot of swimming (good for Coop).

These walks have become a Sunday ritual I look forward to (especially now - post-morning sickness). I suppose it has become our own Humanist house of worship. I learn the names of native plants and species, join in the killing of Japanese Beetles, and converse on rearing Castlehaven. This morning's topic? Spanking. Extra-curricular activities.

My husband and I were both spanked as children. He is a proponent of spanking. I am not. During a lecture on learning theories in grad school, we were discussing positive and negative reinforcement. Spanking is your classic negative reinforcement example. Upon discussing this, my professor offered up this remark, "The only time you should spank your child is if he or she is in imminent danger of hurting him/herself". I suppose his statement clarified my opinion on the subject. A pop on the butt to stop a child about to run into the street. It makes sense - but at the same time, spanking does nothing to instruct the child on proper behavior. And frankly, I feel there are children out there to whom there would be a much more effective form of punishment. "If all I have to endure for doing X is a swat on the butt, I'll happily get that punishment - and keep on doing X". I feel the punishment should fit the child. So many circles we went in - and I believe our intent and our process was the same. An intervention (his - spanking, mine - to be determined!), a discussion on what was done wrong, a discussion on what is a better choice, etc.

Extra-curricular activities. C and I grew up doing some of the same things. We both took piano lessons into Junior High upon which time we stopped, but instead took up playing an instrument in band. We were both very active in music throughout our schooling and both wish we had kept up with our piano skills (doesn't everyone?). I spent my younger days in gymnastics, swimming, and softball. He was heavy into Tae Kwon Do with a smattering of baseball and swimming. While he detested the last 2, he sees great benefit in swimming. I see it as a life skill necessary to get along. Maybe like being able to drive manual transmission. I think we both have a desire that our child be active in areas that teach them discipline, coordination, committment, etc. The conversation turned interesting when we discussed, "At which point do you let them decide?" C quit track with a month left in track his junior year - stress on his knee and too many A.P. classes. My opinion - no discussion. Health and grades come first. But to just quit because you don't like it? In the middle of a season - or because you just don't like it anymore? That's a hard one. Giving up control will be a hard one for me. Allowing them to dress themselves when all they want to pick is that scrubby sweatshirt instead of the cute little dress - it starts small for me. At which point do you let them take over the reigns? Especially when you see them quitting something that could be so good for them?

In the end, I'm glad I don't give birth to a 5 year old.

New Beginnings

2008-07-19T13:56:00.004-05:00

I have been meaning for some time to revive the blog. Get on a schedule. Give little updates. Create a journal to remember this time.

I'm just over 13 weeks pregnant. I'm entering my second trimester. Right now, the baby is the size of a peach, a small peach albeit. The nausea is subsiding. My pants are getting a bit snug. I have a stack of books I refer to daily. I read every week what is developing, how big the baby is, etc. I definitely love anything by Dr. Sears - I proudly announced one Saturday evening that I learned how to breastfeed. Then I proceeded to demonstrate the correct method, what to look for to know things are working correctly, various positions to try, etc. I suppose its like reading a book on how to ride a bicycle.

I like to push out my stomach and gauge where my feet are. I am on the cusp of a pregnant belly. Right now - it's still a belly. My bust looks as though I could feed sextuplets. I suppose that's been the biggest plus of the first trimester. That and I managed to grow long nails on one hand - just one hand and only on 4 fingers. I suppose both add a bit of femininity when I don't feel well; I gaze at my pretty nails when I can't lift my head off my desk. I think I'm beyond dreaming of that round stomach I see in the maternity ads. I am just proud of my body for intuitively knowing what the baby needs. My mother has told me that during birth and the early months or year, your body is not your own. You are a vessel. You are a feeding machine. A source of comfort. I suppose this process of letting my body take over and do its work is the beginning of it - and good preparation.

I share stories with my mother, and she encourages me to write these things down. C and I will like reading them years from now - as will our little one.

So, Herodotus. In an effort to refrain from saying "It", we've taken to calling the baby different names. We have our favorites based on anything from Greek historians to favorite bands to made-up names. Herodotus (5th century Greek historian). Little Yob (favorite band of C's with "Little" attached to denote a sort of fondness or cuteness). Castlehaven (who knows).

Work has been quite stressful lately. I feel as though I am slipping in my work, not staying on top of projects as I am used to. I consistently receive unsolicited reassurance that I am producing material at a rate and of a quality above and beyond what they had hoped. For myself, it doesn't always feel like enough. At the end of a 11+ hour day on the drive home, I just felt drained. And lonely. The feeling of swimming against the tide in a great vastness and making little progress. As I drove and let the tears flow, it occurred to me that I wasn't alone. It was remembering just in time you put something in the oven and didn't set the timer because you knew you'd remember. While I am always mindful of my pregnancy, I sometimes forget what that means. When that happens, I pat my belly and say, "Hi, baby. Mama's here".

Rant

2008-05-08T10:24:00.001-05:00

So, I promised a blog on a series of work-related topics, and I shall deliver. Not the wine, B&B induced rant I had hoped to deliver (it would give a certain something to the piece), but rather a 3rd giant cup of coffee and lots of cool sunshine rant. It may be even better.

As look to move on to the next work-related chapter in my life, there are thing in my job to which I will happily say "sayonara". However, I am aware that other equally irritating things await me - it's just par for the course in life. Anyone that has ever worked retail has a list. Here's just a few of mine.

1. (Customer picks up a pair of khaki or black pants and says..) "What would you wear with these?" Umm.. Are you kidding me? They're khaki. They're black. They're a neutral-freaking color. You SAY you're a fan of "What Not to Wear" - do you remember what Stacy and Clin-ten say about neutrals? Oh - wait. I forget myself. This IS the Midwest. You ARE wearing a periwinkle sweatshirt embroidered with pandas and green threads protruding from the sweatshirt imitating bamboo shoots. I forgot to show you our periwinkle capris. And may I add on the requisite accessories - perhaps periwinkle socks and a scrunchi? Are you freaking kidding me? For goodness sake, PLEASE obssess over a pair of $20 pants for an hour - tug, pull, show me how the crotch is too tight, Pu-LEASE! Is your life that uninteresting and routine - that simple and easy - that you must create difficulty and strife where there is none? You are not your possessions.
2. "I was hoping you could help me find something to just wear around the house (include sweeping gesture made with right hand). I had in mind something nicer than jeans, but perhaps not as dressy as slacks". (Mouth agape, then quick head shake.) I'm sorry - did I wake up in Salem? Is your name Marlena? Where's John Black? Did Stefano drug and hypnotize you and put you up to this? DO YOU LIVE IN A FREAKIN SOAP OPERA? Who does that? Who wakes in the morning, showers and dresses for a day on the couch? In case the vicar comes to tea? Myself, I am known for parading through my house (on casual Friday's, mind you) in red silk robes with ostrich-feather topped kitten heels. A china teacup with perhaps 1 lump of sugar - perhaps a snifter of brandy from the crystal set on the silver tray if I'm feeling randy.
3. "Can you tell me what I owe on my credit card bill?" Why of course. Let me tear up your 3 month old statement you're showing me and call the credit card company. Then - let me get the run around from them and incomplete answers because I'M NOT YOU AND HAVE NO ACCESS TO YOUR ACCOUNT AND YOU ARE TOO DIM-WITTED TO KNOW WHAT TO ASK AND UNDERSTAND THEIR RESPONSE. Then, to top it all off, when I politely and patiently pull up your transactions to show you how the math works out - add here for a purchase, subtract there for a payment, INTERUPT ME - PLEASE INTERUPT ME. Over and over and over. With the SAME stupid question that has NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PROBLEM! Tell me how you shopped in Topeka but they didn't have petites either. So you ordered your periwinkle capris and returned them. And I nod and smile and show you were those charges and credits are - on your 3 month old statement. Then question how you can use your credit card today when you used it last week - and you're just not sure how that works. Do the world a favor, lady. CUT UP YOUR CREDIT CARD. If you can't understand how it works, then do us all a favor and don't have one. Cash is your friend. Cash is your simple, easy-to-understand friend.

Here's to you, Katie.

Hours Later...

2008-04-02T17:34:00.003-05:00

Cooper never fails to surprise. The yelping and howling began in the parking lot. Three minutes in the waiting room and it intensified. He wasn’t interested in the hot dogs I brought along. Two minutes in the exam room and it worsened. As the vet raised the table I couldn’t even hear him speak. It was loud. It was shrill. I think he was losing hair like a porcupine loses quills when it is frightened. The vet had to take him in the back and sit on him while the other vet drew blood. I wasn’t allowed in the room. The vet thought Coop was showing off for me - screaming so loud I’d make them stop.

I count it as a success no one was injured as well as the fact my husband said I didn’t have to do it again.

A more mellow Cooper...

Today's Agenda

2008-04-02T10:10:00.005-05:00

So. Today. Things to do. Hike in the park to wear the dog out. Lunch with friend. Cooper to Beyla's to play. Then - the appointment. I dread it more than anything in the world.

The vet's office.

Cooper. A snuggly little, tight-bellied pup from 3 years ago.

Now - a crazy, high-maintenance, 95 pound half-wolf.

That's called an ulcer-on-a-leash. Or an apology letter in the mailbox. Or a lawsuit.

And you may think, "What could a big dog like that be afraid of?" Cats. Vacuum cleaners. Hairdryers. Japanese paper umbrellas. Lighters (a good thing). My sister's miniature dachsunds. Fireworks. Children. Especially children in dark clothing. Especially children with darker skin. I know - Horrible. Especially horrible when lead by a shaved-headed man in a wife-beater with arms covered in tattoos. Especially when caucasian children receive playful licks and sniffs and darker-skinned children receive growls and views of big, sharp teeth. Can't explain it.

After careful demonstrations by Curtis on how to hold Cooper during the heartworm test, I think we're ready. Perhaps long-sleeves would be a good choice today. And a baggie of raw chicken-necks for Cooper. And a margarita in a travel mug for me.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Eau de Parfum

2008-03-22T22:09:00.007-05:00

Smell is an incredible memory trigger for me. I have a long history with Drakkar, dating back almost 25 years. At work tonight, a man walked past me and instantly I was flooded with memories and sensations.

-My father putting on his cologne, walking downstairs to fill his thermos with coffee, and raising the garage door. The jolt of the door raising would wake me just as the scent of his cologne wafted into my room from the master next door.
-Friday night banquet at Camp Manitoumi. Dave and his teal silk shirt and pleated black pants. A quick snuggle on the hayrack ride or a cologne-filled breeze created from swinging on the rusty swings.
-High school boyfriend, Matt. His 80-something baby-blue Corolla with the falling ceiling. His numerous scrapes and bruises after Friday night football games.

Besides Drakkar, I have many memories associated with various scents. Eternity for men - Jim what's-his-name quickly kissing me before my brother could catch us behind the pine trees. United Colors of Benetton - sneaking out of the house with Brandy to smoke cigarettes and putting perfume on every time we went out. Sand and Sable - my sister in my I-want-to-be-just-like-her phase. Tresor - meeting college boyfriend Chad's mother for the first time and instantly liking her; then after leaving, realizing she wears my mother's perfume and that is the sole reason I can think of for liking her. Jessica McClintock - liking the perfume and spraying it on at a department store. Wearing it home to see if my husband likes it. Him saying, "I love that perfume. My mom wears it". Tea Tree Oil - my husband.

Becoming

2008-03-20T11:53:00.001-05:00

I just finished watching Becoming Jane for the 2nd time. Incredible story, incredibly done. Jane Austen’s stories translate beautifully to the movie screen. Her belief that her characters shall have, with a bit of trouble along the way, everything they shall desire.

The setup:
Tom LeFroy is a London-based lawyer visiting family in the very rural countryside. He is supported entirely by his Uncle, a high court judge, as his parents married for affection and are barely able to support themselves and their numerous offspring. Jane is the youngest daughter of a financially-challenged clergyman who married his wife, too, for the sake of affection. After many contentious encounters, Jane and Tom develop an undeniable chemistry. She is a quaint country girl writing essays on the female heart while she knows little of its expression firsthand. Tom is a worldly man encouraging her to learn more of the world and thus, a her own heart. He recommends a certain vivacious young man widen her horizons. Their early courting is full of delicious sexual inuendo to his delight and her shock.

The scene:
Jane attends a neighborhood ball. She enters and wanders the party looking for Tom. She, instead, finds Mr. Wesley, a man who has proposed marriage. They join the dance floor (see 2 lines, men in one, women in the other, opposite sexes facing each other). They begin to dance, various partners weaving in and out, turning, joining hands, moving through the rows, then back to their respective lines. Jane moves forward and turns to her right, looking over her shoulder to meet her dance partner and there finds Tom. Inches from her face. He, confident as ever, meets her gaze with a sly grin. She is visibly stirred. They finish the dance unable to look away from each other. Their intentions sealed and courtship complete.

Oh, the passion conveyed in that moment. I was reminded of a scene from before.

They had met each other briefly, from time to time. Both were intrigued, but left it at that. That night, they spent the evening among a group of friends. Dinner for a 21st birthday. They sat at one end of a long table and discussed her travels, his interest in Japanese culture. She began to look at him more often and for longer. He allowed himself to open, giving her a look into the interior of a fairly academic, fairly private man.

After dinner, the group headed to another nightspot for drinks. Being a bit younger than the rest, she left with her roommate as the others headed upstairs. Waiting for her roommate to say good-bye, she waited patiently at the doorway and scanned the crowded restaurant. As her eyes moved over everyone, she caught him watching her. Upon returning his gaze, he did not look away. He stood 30 feet from her and maintained her eye contact for what seemed at eternity. He didn’t smile. He didn’t scowl. His face intent, but soft. She turned her back to him and finally exhaled. She began laughing as she left, unable to completely understand what he intended. What an odd, but thrilling, encounter.

Years later, she asked him about that look. He smiled and said, "I wanted you to know that I knew". She would tell him throughout their tumultuous courtship, "It’s you. It’s always been you". During his vows at their wedding he said, "I told you when I proposed that I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Now I know we were saying the same things".

Teacher and Student

2008-03-17T19:32:00.001-05:00

My husband and I had a great date night on Saturday. It was one of those perfect evenings when you find yourself so engrossed in conversation that you forget those around you. The kind of chemistry you wish you had when you see others having it. We had fantastic conversations about many things: socially responsible investments, eggs, memories, personality characteristics, learning styles. For instance, we discussed the various study techniques we employed while in school. Maybe not the Saturday night romantic dinner conversation for most, but I enjoyed myself immensely - and I think he did, too. Listening to my husband ruminate over his experiences as an educator, I found myself thinking of those from whom I have been fortunate to learn.
My sophomore year at Augustana I changed majors. I found myself floundering in Discrete Mathematics. The thing I enjoyed most about the class was the play on the name "discrete". I never really could tell most people what it was about - the subject being so demure, so vague. I new I couldn't tolerate the coursework required for the major, and I was doubting my desire to teach secondary ed. I truly enjoyed my coursework in Religion, though. I'm not sure what originally drew me to the subject. Perhaps that I have a deep appreciation for the workings of religion / faith in people's lives - and especially those lives that are markedly different from my own. Perhaps the incredible professor that was very other, very mysterious. She explained daoism to the dumb-founded football player in class. He got it - we all got it. So I was changing, learning, reading anything I could get my hands on.
Amidst this developing passion, I took a Intro to American Fiction course to satisfy my liberal arts requirements. It was taught by a fairly young, incredibly intelligent, incredibly sardonic man named Dr. P. He opened my eyes to the wonders of fiction. The phenomenal ability of writers (think Joyce Carol Oates) to comment on our culture, lives, everything - without directly telling us. They would use irony, metaphor, symbolism. I looked forward to every class with anticipation, never failing to read an assignment.
It was during this class that I read an essay by Pete McElroy, a photo-copied stack of papers stapled in the corner. It was the story of a newly married couple living in a small town in Michigan. He worked a job as the only journalist in the city. He wrote of their relationship developing, how they came to know each other. The not-so-subtle actions that spoke a thousand words. Slamming kitchen cabinets, vacuuming at 11pm. All the while he watched Johnny Carson, not bothering to extend that olive branch. Instead, leaving her be, knowing that in the morning he would awake holding her hand. While en route to a fatal crash site, he sees her car amongst the wreckage. And he reflects on what he would have done differently.
I still have that story. I reread it occasionally. Almost eight years ago, my sister-in-law died from a stroke. My brother would occasionally express his thoughts on her passing, of him being left behind. This story was refreshed in my mind and has stayed for the years since that time.
Four years ago I had the pleasure of talking with Dr. P. I brought up the story he had us read years previous - of the profound effect it had on me as I considered my brother losing his wife, my own deepening relationship with my boyfriend - taking that chance to love someone entirely and possibly losing it all. I mentioned that I had looked up Pete McElroy and had been unable to find any other pieces by him. I noted that he smiled and nodded his head. He asked if I would like to try a special ipa he had stashed in the garage. I eagerly followed. As he poured me a beer from the keg, he told me "There is no Pete McElroy" and smiled. As I stared at him, my furrowed brow smoothed as my jaw dropped. "You're Pete McElroy?" "Guilty".
I was blown away. And I imagine he was too. To have created something that continues to profoundly impact someone. What a pleasure and an honor it must be.

Relief

2006-04-07T22:41:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been long, and today has provided a respit from the craziness.

Last night was my final night of lecture for my 10th class. Afterwards, I went for a drink. After 2 dirty Kettle One martinis, I stopped by the store for a pot pie, then headed home to a dark house. I was greeted at the door by my dog - happy to see me as always. I ate, then headed to bed still buzzed around midnight. I crawled into bed and settled myself, trying not to disturb my husband. After laying still for a spell, I heard him exhale. It was a perfect reminder of the man laying next to me - a reminder that he was there - despite not seeing or touching him. It brought me to tears. The craziness and pressure of the few days lifted off of me as I felt myself coming home.

Other

2006-04-05T21:45:00.000-05:00

I realized something on the drive home tonight. My family is becoming other.

I felt so whitebread growing up. Normal, white, middle-class, Baptist upbringing. Tonight I just realized that this sense I've had lately of "not in my family" started changing long ago. I hearing classmates in elementary school talk about their stepbrothers and stepsisters. I found that concept very foreign and other. Later, my parents divorced and I gained numerous step-siblings. Less whitebread.

Years later, my sister-in-law tragically died leaving behind a two and a half year old daughter and a severely handicapped newborn to her husband of seven years. Horrible things like that just don't happen. Almost five years later, the infant - no longer a baby - died.

And now, my uncle is missing and assumed dead. The circumstances around his disappearance are suspect, leaving his cousin - my second cousin - as the prime suspect. A bloody mattress left in my uncle's car and abandoned on the other side of town. His medication and oxygen left in the apartment they shared. Lies to neighbors on his where-abouts.

These are the stories of Lifetime movies and Law and Order episodes - not my family.

Pieces

2006-04-04T22:10:00.000-05:00

I have a lot going on right now. Just day to day things are keeping me very busy - and living day to day. That's a switch for me.

I guess I feel a change rumbling inside. One of the things that most infuriates my husband is my ability to sit on things and ponder them. When things bother me, I tend to analyze why they bother me, how I might resolve them, etc. Then I may or may not act on those feelings. I know the things I need to do, but acting upon that knowledge is another story. I'll give myself a little credit and say this is how I handle things with myself. Concerning other people and their problems, give it to me and I'll tell you how to solve it and help you do so.

Because I am an instant gratification girl, I struggle with this. And how can one have an inner struggle with one's own personality characteristics? Beats me! I know that I'll look back on this period (possibly one of a year or so) as an evolution. I need to become comfortable with me. I'm not there. I was talking with my boss the other day - and it was a very casual conversation - but it came around to me, my future, my goals with my company, and my abilities to move up (and if that's even what I want). She pointed out my greatest flaw - the thing that could hold me back. Keep in mind - I am aware of this area in my job performance: I don't have a passion for the customer. Very true! I don't see a BURNING NEED to sell this woman a sweater. It's not going to complete her life and give her ultimate fulfillment. I feel I should also mention, my sales are right where they should be - but this is an area I could really succeed in if I tried. My point - I came away from our conversation fixating on this comment - that I already know and openly acknowledge - instead of feeling proud of her comment, "Sarah, I'm selfish. I'd like to keep you to myself. I wish you'd never leave." So, I have some work to do on myself.

...there's beauty in the breakdown...

Tomorrow I celebrate 5 months of marriage with my husband. Currently, I am listening to the playlist we used at our wedding. "Eileen's Song" by Burlap to Cashmere is currently playing. We saw them in concert when we were "just friends". And he was sweet - he pretended to like it (as much as I did) to engage me. Before this it was "Nothing Even Matters" by Lauryn Hill and D'Angelo... ooohhh... sweet baby-makin' music. It reminds me of cool summer evenings, candlelight, and soft sheets. Oh - and the next one, "Superheroes" by Esthero. One of the sweetest songs ever... I remember buying the album and listening to it in my first apartment. The way it would echo in the large rooms.

As messy as life gets, I'm blessed to share it with him. There isn't much that truly frightens me, but life without him is on the top of my list.

5 Women, Over $500,00 in Education, & No Clue

2006-03-12T14:59:00.000-06:00

Last night I spent the evening with four former college roommates. It was a combination Try on your Bridal Gown - Surprise Baby Shower - Estrogen Carnival. All of us are doing very different things: retail manager, junior math teacher, college alumni officer, doctor, and physical therapist/mom. Besides the awkward realization that we're losing touch with each other, the night was manageable. When you include it, the night was worse. Amongst conversations of child birth, husbands, futures, and vaginal accidents gushing blood, one roommate passed out. That was interesting...

When the talk turned to children, a damper seemed to come over the room. Three women grappled with the decision of leaving the jobs they loved to be with their children full time. The two that didn't? The mom - she works one day a week as a physical therapist (keep in mind all the education and training she received). The doctor - she and her doctor husband are already resigned to having a live-in nanny (keep in mind all the education and training they both received). In both cases, money is not the decision maker.

The three that grappled:
1. The Junior High Math Teacher - after completing her masters degree, she is beginning a master teacher certification. This rigorous curriculum would allow her to teach in all 50 states and requires anywhere from 400-700 hours to complete in the one year time limit. She would be the first in her district to have her certification. She is considering teaching part-time - her district has a large number excellent teachers that are also quite fertile. It's one of the best ways to attract and maintain great talent in your work force. She and her husband are going to start trying this summer.
2. The college alumni officer - her love of traveling and sole devotion to her husband has her wondering if she wants to open up her heart to a children. Her husband's pending 30th birthday has him pushing the family issue. There are days she could be ready to start trying this summer, especially if it could take a year to get pregnant. There are days she doesn't want children. She thoroughly enjoys her job and her involvement in her church's planning and administration. They could easily afford to live off of his income; yet, she is reluctant to give up her life in the manner it would require. She is torn between the desire to please her husband and her own desires.
3. The retail manager - after devoting the past 2 years and the next year to a masters in business administration, she is ready for a change. She struggles with her current job and finding a job in a different career that would better take advantage of her passions and abilities. Her anxiousness to move forward in her life with her new husband is overshadowing the daily task of living in the moment. She spends her time thinking of what could be - and not how to change what she can right now. Because of her financial past of living off of credit, she has restricted her family's decision-making capability - and she feels great shame in having to shoulder that responsibility. This could prevent them from doing the things they want to do: buy a house with extensive property, her husband's further education, being a stay-at-home mom. If she was in any of their positions, she felt her future could be on track as she and her husband would like.

Behold, Jealousy, the green-eyed monster.

These five women dropped their heads at the decisions they faced. Unsure of how to manage their options and already feeling defeated at not being able to do everything they want to - and do it well. A heavy hush fell over the room.

Decisions, Decisions

2006-02-22T20:50:00.000-06:00

Lately I've been seriously considering my future, excuse me, our future. Should we really consider moving? That depends on my husbands decision to return to school. His decision depends on my ability to find financially sufficient employment. That depends on how far I geographically expand my job search. That depends on if we want to move. Wait... I already considered that...

And so it goes...

A coworker of mine was considering whether to accept a promotion in a new store in a huge metropolitan area. The move would have afforded her a good opportunity for future promotion much quicker than where she currently is - about 8 times as fast. The job market in that area would be very broad for her husband as well. I asked about her progress with her bachelor's degree. She is 3 classes shy of her degree. Moving would mean starting over at a new school and redoing 21 credits. Ouch... that's a lot of backsliding.

So, she told her husband she wanted to stay.

And to blame it on Sarah. I'm happy to take the blame for that.

Not tired... still typing... fun and intriguing questions.

2006-02-14T01:19:00.000-06:00

1. my roommate once: thought she was pregnant. I made an appointment for her at Planned Parenthood.
2. never in my live have i: had the desire to sky dive
3. the one person who can drive me nuts, but then can always manage to make me smile: Cooper - dogs count. I believe in Jainism.
4. high school was: ulcer-causing.
5. when i'm nervous: I bite my nails and don't even realize it.
6. the last time i cried was: 2 hours ago.
7. If i were to get married right now my bridesmaids would be: Actually, if I did it over, I might not have any. Maybe.
8. my hair: Short and impossible to grow out.
9. my parents: too many.
10. when i was 5: I would make myself sick thinking about going to school. I would cry every morning on the bus, embarrassing my preteen sister.
11. last christmas: spent too much again, but loved the shrimp and grits as usual and a hike in the snow with my siblings.
12. when i turn my head left, I see: moldy basement walls... healthy.
13. i should be: sleeping.
14. When i look down I see: the only precious jewel I've ever owned, my diamond engagement ring.
15. The craziest recent event was: coconut creme pie and decaf coffee at 10:30 pm after a fight
16. if i were a character on Friends i'd be: a random person drinking coffee at the Central Perk and making odd faces as the characters have crazy outbursts.
17. by this time next year: My husband's response was "I may be dead" - comforting. I'll make sure to change the insurance papers tomorrow. Me - I'll be one year older. I'm guessing not much else will have changed.
18. my favorite aunt is: don't have one. fucking crazy fundamentalists.
19. I have a hard time understanding: persistent bad moods and silence.
20. one time at a family gathering: I refused to put my newborn nephew down while I got ready for family pictures. I did my hair and makeup with one hand while he slept on my chest.
21. you know I like you if: I smile after making a smart ass remark to you .
22. if i won an award, the first person (people) I'd thank is/are: my husband.
23. take my advice: Read books - well written ones.
24. my ideal breakfast is: malted pancakes, bacon, grits with eggs over easy, and coffee - the perfect salty sweet combination.
25. if you visit my hometown: hold your nose over the Staley viaduct
26. where do you plan to visit anytime soon: Milan (that's pronounced my-lan with a long i - groceries tomorrow).
27. if you spend the night at my house: you better learn to open the guest room door without making it squeak - or once the door is shut, you're not coming out till morning.
28. i'd stop my wedding if: I always said I'd never get married if I was pregnant - as if that was the reason I was getting married. Two wrongs don't make a right, I say.
29. the world could do without: Walmart
30. i'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: the fucking idiot that sexually harrassed me at the mall
31. most recent thing you've bought yourself: blouse.
32. most recent thing someone else bought for you: lunch - thanks mom.
33. once, at a bar: I locked eyes with a handsome older man. Days later, he spent the night. Years later, I married him.
35. How many days until my birthday?: who's counting...

Same night... New topic

2006-02-14T01:01:00.000-06:00

I've been very restless lately, looking to make changes. I opt for the temporary ones that make me feel momentarily better - my usual schtick - not that pleasing. I'm waiting for the big ones.

In a year and two months, I will finish my masters. The day after graduation I hope to pack up and head out. This shitty job and rental are making me crazy. The talking and maybe and possibly and wouldn't that be great and we could do this and that are making me scratch my eyes out. I'm ready for definite plans. A definite place. A timeline. Goals. An action plan. I want to feel like I'm making "real progress like real adults". I want to make something of myself before I stop regularly working for 10 plus years. I'm an instant gratification girl - I get that. I know that makes me difficult to live with many times. I suppose if I had a plan, I'd feel better about spinning my wheels for the next year and two months. I guess I could change my attitude and see this for what it is - planning for the future.

Fuck the future. If I died tomorrow, I'd be pretty pissed off at the sorry state of my life. Shitty job, no house of my own, no children, too much debt. The "live as if today was the last day of your life" bullshit is just about as bad. When would the laundry get done - and who wants to look at all the clean dishes put away as they keel over?

2006-02-14T00:51:00.000-06:00

I couldn't sleep... so I decided to get up. I'm much more of a night person, though I'd love to be a morning person. It would certainly make my life easier. Anyway, I finished my self-appraisal for work and emailed that to my boss. It's interesting to look upon last year's and see how I've changed - improved, I should say.

My head is absolutely killing me. I've been getting these headaches every other day. They settle in my shoulders and move up both sides of my neck. The pain feels like to hands pressing their palms in the back of my head, as if someone's palms were on the back corners, their fingers wrapping around to settle above my ears, and their fingertips digging into my temples. It pulses behind my eyes. I've woken up mornings with soar shoulders. It's not from some random sleeping position, but rather I tend to tense my shoulders up to my ears. I need a massage, maybe a chiropractor, but that's a financial and time committment I'm not ready to make. I'm trying to muscle through without any ibuprofen. I've had too many burning stomachs lately for that to seem a better option.

Sophers

2006-02-10T20:05:00.000-06:00

February 1st, my four year old niece died. Her mother suffered a stroke two days before she was due to give birth. They were unable to reach Sophia until Michelle was stabilized. Sophia suffered severe brain damage due to lack of oxygen. Two years later I heard of Australian researchers doing work with newborns with similar situations. They found that by putting a "cooling cap" over the head, the brain was cooled and prevented the damaged cells from dying and somehow encouraged them to regenerate and grow normally. Pretty incredible.. if only we had been Australian.

I always felt Sophia would have been bettered served if she had left with her mother. Sometimes medicine goes too far. There was no prognosis for Sophia, though; we only knew what to expect as she didn't grow or develop. I don't think that Sophia being here had anything to do with her, though. She seemed to be here solely for her effect on others. The full effect remains to be seen. I wonder how I'll explain to my children the cousin they didn't meet, maybe how they got their name.

Her life was so connected to her mother's death. Her death was connected to a new beginning. It's amazing to look at Maddie, Sophia's now seven year old sister, and know she's our only connection to Michelle - yet she looks so much like her father. I mention to Maddie often that she has her mother's beautiful hands and fingernails - she says her Grandma Wire tells her that, too. Sophia was Michelle's little girl - curly hair, facial features, and those same beautiful hands. Genetics can be a beautiful, yet cruel, thing. I hope that Maddie approaches me later about her mother. I'd love to tell her the funny and wonderful stories about her. I can still hear Michelle calling her Maddykins, moving Maddie's arms in a jogging motion as she sang "Gettin jiggy wit it... na-na na na na-na na..."

I saw Sophia three weeks before she died. She was watching cartoons in her chair, having had her morning bath. I lotioned up my hands and massaged hers. She relaxed her fists and stretched her fingers wide. She frowned as I rubbed her forehead and cheeks. She fell asleep as I unbraided her hair and brushed her long curls. That was our ritual the last few years. When she was small enough to fit in my lap, we'd read books. She would sleep as I rhymed to Dr. Seuss and explained the social commentary of Yurtle the Turtle.

I found myself having to run out of the visitation panting after talking with her nurse. It occured to me how much she must be hurting - and how much of a connection to Sophia she was for us. I wanted to ask her so much, but decorum got the best of me. She knew her inside and out. She cared for her on a daily basis. She drove four hours with her daughter to come to the visitation and funeral. She said that she could tell Sophia's health was declining these last few months. Her body was showing a great resisitance to antibiotics used to treat the constant pneumonia and bacterial infections she developed due to her condition. She said she'd yell at Sophia every day, "Not on my shift, Sophers! Not on my shift!" She didn't listen. They found her in the morning in her chair, probably watching cartoons after having her bath and her hair braided.

I comfort myself knowing that a suffering soul has found peace. Her breath comes easily. I hesitate to think of her as a little girl running and playing - people like to comfort me with that image. It doesn't, though. I don't think of Heaven as a city of souls operating as a euphoric earth. But it may be the thought of her talking and playing with her mother is too painful to bear.

Goings On

2006-02-08T19:50:00.000-06:00

I have so much to say, yet I'm confined to the shadowy basement as I await a new power cord for the laptop. Suffice it to say I've had a relaxing day. I surprised my husband with a sandwhich and forgotten cell phone inbetween teaching assignments. It was a bit of a thrill to see him walk in the room and notice me among the items in the front of his classroom. I like surprising him if only for the look on his face. He's a lovely man, and I look forward to a kiss in two hours.

So, I shall post when I can sit in the comfortable-ness of my couch.

Mahhwwige

2005-01-11T19:01:00.000-06:00

I believed that the older I became, the more control I would have over my life and the choices I made. Maybe I'm in a transitional phase, but it seems that I was somewhat wrong. The more we love the people around us, the more we allow them to color our feelings and shade our positions.

I'm recently married - and loving it. People ask, "Is it different?" It is. I feel a greater responsibility to him - and even to myself. I feel the need to take care with him. He will be my mate for the rest of our hopefully long lives. What we do today, what I say today, can affect tomorrow.

And every day I'm reminded somehow of how important talking is. And just enjoying one another. Occassionally I revert to my toddler self and entertain him. It works... sometimes.