Sometimes you feel like a nut...

Is there anybody out there?

2011-09-04T17:51:00.000-07:00

Somewhere, somehow out in the virtual great beyond, my words have remained as I left them over a year ago. No dust is on them. No weeds are obscuring them. They are not weathered or torn or buried. I wonder how long they will be there after I am gone. Surely there must be some decay, or virtual closet cleaning at some point?

I have no point really, just thinking...

Assimilated into the Borg

2010-07-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

Somehow another 8 months have gone by.
As in a dream.
Like a ride on the highway the scenery whizzes by, with an occasional sign post, but mostly a blur. And as always I wonder if there is a better way to live.
So much time seems to be consumed in just keeping the systems going, instead of doing what needs to be done via the systems. The tool is broken, in short, but we keep trying to make it work.
Work is an insidious tide creeping over my life and it is time , again, to stave it off.
If every day and each moment is all I really have, why the rush and the fuss?
What for?
Like the vines I have been battling in my garden, the demands cling and pull until I can't move or breathe. I fall, and do not move in any effectiveness again until I have either dissolved them,
or myself.

Holy Cow

2009-11-23T16:52:00.000-08:00

What happened to 9 months? Getting sucked in and sucked up I guess. I must be doing something right I'm in demand and not much time to think.
From the cat to the kids to the boss never a dull moment. For some reason it is fine with me for now. I only want to move forward, feeling I have spent to much time in dreaming or in the past.
I feel acutely the impermanence and how all there is is now. So I wander through it or a more apt analogy would be paddle through it -- with about as much control as an inner tube on white water. Practicing action non action, or what ever it is. Practicing. Practicing. Practicing.

Vacations

2009-02-20T16:39:00.000-08:00

My vacations, your vacations. Who's vacation is it anyway? I took the week the kids had off and had a long list of to do's. Can you see where I 'm going here? Tuesday I was tired, Thursday I was stressed and Friday, today well I turned sort of what the f*** /zen... and let go.

The whole vacation thing has always perplexed me anyway. I mean, it is supposed to be restful and rejuvenating, and to me that means a good nights sleep, and something that restores my soul. Now, what restores my soul ,interestingly, is simple work of making my surroundings or something beautiful. The garden, painting a room, hanging a picture. Working with my hands and body in the sun and fresh air. If I am inside I want to open the windows. I can go places and see different earth and breathe its air, and collect its things and bring them home. But going some where soulless has lost its lure. The simple work of my dream vacation yields things I can continue to enjoy, an builds something slowly that I treasure. It is not exactly work.

I feel the push to activity for activity sake. It may build a skill but seems strange to me, maybe impractical, because it leaves nothing of value behind for all of its sweat and investment.
I'd rather learn carpentry than snowboarding. I am an alien.
I'll brush up on skiing to fit in, to have something to do with my family. To fit in this leisure class.
But my heart wants to be making something, or growing something, or fixing something.
Blah Blah Blah

Beware the light

2009-01-09T17:34:00.000-08:00

I have come to believe that there are infinite passageways out of the shadows, infinite vehicles to transport us into the light. Martha Beck

This little golden light in my dash still twinkles merrily at me some 39 days later without so much as a mushroom cloud or an engine sputter. I've spent a lot of time looking into that light and thinking. Anyone who knows me well is either chuckling or rolling eyeballs by now.
That little tiny light can send me to into all sorts of reaction. How much power I've given it. How many other devices with warning lights and service needed sensors can send that thrill of adrenaline coursing through our veins?
Now don't get me wrong I would not mess with the oil light- there are some lights that mean business. but I think the whole concept has gotten carried away.
But!
The silver lining for me is that the exercise of the annoying engine light has been a minor revelation in our mental programming and culture that has been a source of stress I could not put my finger on. So me and my light are practicing daily detachment and being in the now. Right now the car is fine. I am fine. The world is... well... I am fine..

Stay tuned for the next installment :
The nut walks to work

The Mystery of the Missing Repair

2008-11-25T16:17:00.000-08:00

There once was a car from Volkswagen
Whose faith in service was surely worth braggin'
Except that sadly it was blighted
With an engine light so oft lighted
that its owner breathed like the dragon.

Under warranty, the dealer would say
Only a small deductible, you shall pay
but when the owner drove happily home
and yet again the light again shone!
the dealer said come back another day

So the owner said, this is not right
why did you not put out my light?
What is wrong with my car that makes it shine
What is wrong with this dear car of mine?

But the dealer that slippery foe,
Would not say, or did not know,
The system, you see, is very sensitive indeed
You need a professional check in your time of need!
A sensor replaced, a wire jiggle
any thing another deductible to wiggle.

So be warned my fellow of the light in the dash
That frightens and sends one off in a flash
The problem may be that there is no problem at all
and the system itself is the problem -- that's all.
So for all of the fancy spending sensing device
I step on the gas and listen, sounds good- it goes-- that's nice...

OK that was fun.
So the engine light went on again the next day. There is nothing wrong with the car except the diagnostic system. So when hubby called the service rep to ask that this be reevaluated under the fee already paid, they were quick to note that the engine light could be an indicator of some 400 possible things that could be wrong with the car. So in theory, at $100 deductible ($90 for the diagnostic of course) you could spend 40,000 ... I wonder if that counts replacing the sensors, which seemed to be the issue both times so far.... hmmm smell a cash cow. Mean while the car runs FINE..... Damn those little warning lights increasing our cortisol levels.
So in the realm of the ridiculous that is my tale of fixing my car that was not broken... And once again, it amazes me that most of the time, to most of us( me included) we the people accept this as ok, normal, and pay the bill, sign the paper. etc. We give lemmings a bad name.

Regularity

2008-10-14T17:23:00.000-07:00

It is reassuring to know that there are corporations out there literally scheming to make sure I give a sh...t. Or maybe are concerned for my bowel health, that I may experience bloating or discomfort? Or perhaps it is just sponsored by the heart association that is sure that by increasing my daily intake of fiber I am sure to lower my cholesterol (which surely must be high), and prevent heart disease? So that I can live and work longer and continue to pay my insurance premiums without claim or file for medicare disability?

What EXACTLY does it mean when you come home to find a fairly large, unsolicited sample of fiber supplement in your mailbox? I thought it was a package from Amazon. Markets are collapsing, dire economic predictions, belt-tightening-- yet some marketing genius thought THIS was the perfect time to sell me on a fiber laxative. Seems to me most people might be a little loose in the bowel these days without any assistance. Never mind nauseous from the politics.
One more for the Either Supremely Amusing or Annoying "What are people thinking?!?" file... I've been smiling and shaking my head all afternoon at this one...

Media meltdown

2008-08-30T06:37:00.000-07:00

One morning a week or so ago the TV blew up. It had been behaving erratically and then one morning in the middle of Sponge Bob, it gave up its ghost with a puff of smoke. The children were devastated. What will we do now? What will we do? There is nothing to do! Dad came and tried to set up the computer with a DVD but the computer crashed and when rebooted would not see the DVD device. Hmm. He spent 4 hrs. So the kids could watch TV. But the curse was too strong.

The TV still sits mute. But we have eaten meals at the table more often in the last week than in the last three months, we have played card games and board games. We rode bikes and took walks. We just talked.

In the interim my husband and I talked alot about cable and what we really want and use, and found that we want little and end up paying for a big package of stuff that we don't want. There is no way to say no thank you I don't want that. And no matter what fancy promotion/rewards/premium offer you sign up for after fees and the promotional period ends the cost is obscene. Similar to the obscene disproportion of space that breakfast cereal and soda take up in a grocery store.

I find myself again in that place of does any one else notice how insane this is?
If Keeping up with the Kardashians is your thing, well .. never mind. But ever the National Geographic Programming has fallen into the hyper dramatized, digitally recreated mode. So little is authentic any more.

I watched Fame with K1 and shocked her with some breasts and the f word, because she has dreams of fame that are fed by Disney and I wanted her to see a little more reality of the struggle. What really impressed me how normal the characters in the film looked. Normal everyday buck-teethed people dressed in hand-me-downs with immigrant parents. Not these shiny perfect beings with clueless or absent rich parents that live on Planet Disney.

So maybe the next title will be in search of authenticity.

Relief in Sight

2008-08-30T06:22:00.000-07:00

I love summer, I really do, but by this time of year I am glad for fall and for that turning of the wheel for Moms, the first day of school. As wonderful as summer is the kids are like the unemployed hanging around without focus, gradually losing inertia. I feel like the cruise director trying to provide diversions. I am always glad to have the structure of the schedule back again and the rhythm of the days returns quickly. Somehow everyone seems more content.

Arte y something or other

2008-07-06T06:14:00.000-07:00

Blog awards. I thank Kim for awarding me. I am generally suspicious of links and chains, and when I tried to hook up the link for this award I got a notice saying the link had been eliminated because it was a phishing scam, although the link through Rose's site still works. I may just be link jinxed. Because none of the other attached links for the blogs I awarded worked either. Rather than muck around on my last day off.. please see my recommended list for the links to the blogs and go to Roses for the link to Arte y Pico if you must.

1) Suz-Q aka "Q" , my long lost friend on the left coast, whose dry wit I thoroughly enjoy and miss in person and whose photography captures the stunning beauty of the natural world. She can make a tomato look more wonderous than a flower. Harvest moon.

2) Annie Kelliher , well, Annie, can certainly speak for herself ! As you will see. Annie gave me fire when I needed it, and a sword to cut through the BS. Annie is excellent at that. Her ruminations are always deep which appeal to me, and her word slice right through to the point mercilessly. Always refreshing to be around a person who knows what they think and says it. Thanks Annie. Writers and witches and words... oh my!

3)Kim - The Wicked Step mom: NOT. Instantly married with four kids and still really very grounded. One of the strongest and sanest people I know. She uses her blog as a diary to get through the "can you believe this?" s of picking up the pieces after a highly dysfunctional-- and still involved enough to do damage-- biological mother. And I am guessing release the outrage before it sets in her heart. From the community she gets the grounding and the support that I imagine is help in doing what is and oh soooo valuable job. There are innocents that may be healed. I admire her for giving her self over so to trying. Just because it is right and good. Diary of a Stepmom

4) Rose- What Rose made today -- I have to admit I just learned of this one the day before yeasterday when I came off the gerbil wheel, but I can feel Rose's robust merry earth mother shining through at me. I can smell the earth and the green when I look at the photos. And Rose's Mead is what gold would taste like if it could. I always imagine she has nature's attention where ever she passes, probably because she has always been so mindful of it .

crazy lttle after thought

2008-07-05T08:03:00.000-07:00

When I grow up I want to be dead. I say this because I know with utter confidence that for years after I am dead and scattered I will still be preapproved for several low interest credit cards, term life insurance, and special magazine subscription offers for a limited time only. I know that the trade unions that I belonged to will still be supporting my interests since the assure me I am a valued member. I also know that the restaurant whose guest book I signed a few years ago will still send me postcards of their specials even to an address 3,000 miles away.
See, live people are not so special after all.

The little things that keep me sane

2008-07-05T07:14:00.000-07:00

The creature on top of the bird cage was my birthday present. Her name is Luna-- because I said so, whenever the children ask why. She also could have been named Zoom or Bonk, because that is what she does alternately, much to the delight of all of us. She is a living life lesson playing out before us and joy to me in spite of the zooming when one should be sleeping and the early morning ankle biting.

One morning when I was getting ready for work suddenly the pint sized cat was IN the birdcage with the bird. Then the bird was out and the cat was in , and it took a few very long and feather flying seconds to extricate the cat and toss it through closing door, catch the confused and indignant bird and restore order. And put twist ties on all the cage doors in case Miss Puddy-tat decided she wanted a repeat of that action. Cool TOY!

I watch this creature like some kind of little miracle. First The gusto with which she zooms into each game, throwing her self in no worries. Then the bonk. How many times she has missed the mark and BAM-- and she landed, dazed, shook it off for a second and got right on to the next thing. No ruminating. No lingering on it.

That ability to do the same stupid thing over and over again unselfconsciously is at once endearing and amusing to us. Like clowns. Are we condescending or are we enjoying a part of us in another that we have lost?

So even this little kitten makes me wonder so deeply. My gift and my curse I guess.

Ok, so I lied...

2008-07-04T10:13:00.000-07:00

Wow where have I been? I'm not quite sure. On the gerbil wheel I suppose. No, perhaps that would not be fair. I have been on a journey, allowing the universe to guide me and show me where I am needed. (Which apparently is a lot of places.) I bring something to my work place that I can see is truly needed, but at the same time I can see all the lessons I am needing to learn there. Some how I have entered a period of profound lucidity. The way seems clear. I don't know where I am going but it doesn't seem to matter any more. Some kind of restless striving I have always felt has completely gone from me. In some ways it feels strangely like apathy, but that may just be a judgement of my mind and the social programming.

The cheerleading adventure was a good exercise in learning to go with the flow and find some enjoyment in a situation that held many irritants for me. Also to set a boundary and make a difficult and unpopular decision not to continue. The overall out come was good.

K1 had her 14th birthday (uh, more like, birthweek), and is stressing over going to the high school in the fall. She had a Promotion (graduation) and class night( prom Jr) which may as well have been the real thing for all the "Mom, you don't understand,..."s
K2 has summer school and tutoring all summer as well as day camps. She has a week of horse camp in Aug which she has been dreaming of all year. I'm curious to see how that works out because she said she didn't want to go to day camp at the lake because of the bugs. Hmm. I'm not saying a word. I'll just put bug spray on her and see how much she really loves horses...
Hubby receives honorable mention for always being there even if not truly present, and always trying.
For anyone wondering there has been no further activity in the Mansfield murder. We wait. It will be 3 years Aug 28. At least we see our nephews often and they are well.

I'm baaaack......

2008-05-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

Finally. I am back from the land of overly large sequined bows and glitter eyshadow blended with sweat and athletic endorphins. I will admit the kool aid kicked in the last few weeks especially with 3 or 4 first places in a row and two of them national championships. The endorphins start running vicariously and I guess I can see how the parents get hooked.
It was nuts, but the right thing to try. Glad I did. May repeat with certain major revisions to the approach, but not immediately. Grades suffered during competetions. Life suffered during competitions. Heck. Life was, the whole family, competitions. Too much.

And that brings me to my next " what is WRONG with this world ?" rant.

More on the subject of too much. K1's class trip for 8th grade to was to NYC.
They went to Madame Tussauds, on a boat tour around the statue of liberty, to see the Blue Man Group . Lunch at Mars 2112. The trip cost more than >$150 . We had to bring them to school to get the bus at 5:15 am and pick them up at 10pm. It was on a wednesday. All the kids were told that they were expected to be in school inspite of the trip. The next day k2 said it was "ok". She was tired. She went to school. She said half the kids weren't there.
What is wrong with this picture?
DUh people!

2008-02-27T17:01:00.000-08:00

I have always been here

I have always looked out from behind these eyes

It feels like more than a lifetime

Feels like more than a lifetime

Sometimes I get tired of the waiting

Sometimes I get tired of being in here

Is this the way it has always been?

Could it ever have been different?

Do you ever get tired of the waiting?

Do you ever get tired of being in there?

Don't worry, nobody lives forever,

Nobody lives forever

"A New Machine - Part I"

Pink Floyd

Momentary Lapse of Reason

On my feet

2008-02-27T16:04:00.000-08:00

Well now I finally know what they call the flu, and I will definitely get my flu shot every year after this experience. Although I did get it this year and of course the strain that hit was not included in the vaccine. I have to admit I've never had more than a bad cold until now. I am upright at last, and swaying through my daily routine, but I still feel really weird. Dizzy, off balance and sometimes my skin just hurts like I have a fever, but I don't. At its worst-- muscle aches and headache that were unrelieved by anything over the counter. Pure misery. A day or two of that sure has you feeling grateful for good health!

Back to work tomorrow and then I have two days worth of competitions to go to this weekend, although I plan to abbreviate my exposure as much as possible. Then it's 3 weekends off! Even K1 is feeling the lack of time ( :0 we don't have any time to go shopping OMG!)

All I have to do is make it through April...

Plague or something like it...

2008-02-23T17:57:00.000-08:00

So I have finally caught a cold that airborne couldn't keep at bay. I spent the whole day on the couch after going to bed at 6pm last night. I was wondering when I would break my healthy streak. People around me have been falling like flies to all sorts of flu like symptoms and I felt strangely immune. Not anymore! (or as inspector clouseau says "neyt anymuir").
I told my girls they had to take care of me today. K1 cleaned the kitchen, K2 made me soup--ok she forgot it in the microwave and I had to crawl out to get it myself, but it is the thought that counts, right? Speaking of thoughts, K1 asks me if I am better yet. She always has an agenda and I think she is gravely inconvenienced at the moment.
The fun of the game of take care of mom evaporated quickly.

I always love the question "are you feeling better yet ?" or "are you feeling any better ?" It is a question that wants only one answer. It is an implied hurry up already. No, I am not any better yet, thank you very much. When you see me upright for any longer than it takes to go to the bathroom or the kitchen and back you might inquire again. K1 and K2 are giving each other the look that says "mommy's cranky."
It's my turn, I say, please pass the tissues.

Parent volunteers

2008-02-18T17:33:00.000-08:00

These are two small words that have a profound effect on me these days. My eyes fell on them today as I stood at the kitchen counter finishing the last bite of supper. Of the hundreds of flyers from school that get batched next to the toaster, I can't now remember which one it was, nor does it really matter since they all say the same thing. Another activity/group/comittee wanting a piece of me. I tear them in quarters and use them for scrap paper since it is a shame to waste the unprinted side. All those nice bright clean pages in eye catching colors. All those fancy fonts and clipart. All those trees.
Parent volunteers. I laughed out loud and my daughter asked why. I wasn't exactly sure, but I did feel a little unhinged at the moment. I think it is a side effect of the cheerleading frenzy.
(Volunteers, yeah... right...) I don't feel very voluntary right now. I feel something more like roped in.
Parent Volunteer for Sunday's competition wanted: Drive 2hrs to Boston, pay $12 admission fee, stand for 1hr, sit on bleachers for four hours, drive 2 hours home. Mission: to qualify by minimum score to drive 9 hours to Virginia Bach in May.
Yay! we won 2nd place out of 2, and we qualify. That means we get to go (read 18hours round trip+ $300 min food and lodge) to VA!!!
Ok.. where's the koolaide? Maybe then this would make sense.
But seriously, folks, I think I may pull the plug at least on that trip. I can't seem to swallow all day for the knot in my throat and past experience tells me that I need to speak up.
Parent Volunteers. LOL No thanks, not for me.

2008-02-09T15:11:00.000-08:00

Blah, blah, blah.

2008-02-07T03:25:00.000-08:00

Hard Rock man rides again!

Here is a great collage of my life. I call it my desk.

I went, I saw, but I didn't drink the koolaid...

2008-02-05T02:57:00.000-08:00

For those of you who might have wondered where I have been lately, I have been on Planet Cheerleader. I am still recovering from the effects of reentry. This weekend I was in Providence at the Convention Center for two days with my family and about 2 million other people and about as many permutations of lycra, sequins and glitter that you could ever imagine, each more garish than the next. The music was so loud my sternum was vibrating. The second day K2 and I wore ear plugs. Hubby is much more tolerant of loud music, but acknowledges he is probably already slightly deaf .

There were probably more than 50 teams competeing in different levels. Being a fan of dance and gymnastics, I was hoping to watch the other teams. But I quickly found myself running for refuge from the onslaught of superbass. I could only stand it for 15 or twenty minutes at a time, and that was spent watching K1's team. She was nervous but loving it and still loves it, but I can't hide from her what it takes out of me.

We were like passengers of a cancelled flight, roaming the crowds, paying 9 dollars for a banana and a bottle of water at the concession, propped up in corners on the floor of the outer hall awash in a sea of cheer people. We invented games and I taught K2 a little photography compostion. On the second day she fell asleep on my lap in a 120 decibel fishbowl of sound with one ear plug in and my palm over her other ear. I felt so bad for her I let my leg fall asleep and did not move.
The things we do for our children.

A few of the other parents had the frowning lost look that reflected how I felt. We found each other in the crowd and every one had the same question. So what are we supposed to be doing? I suppose I had silent commrades in my inner outrage, but little was said. We were all too dazed.
There is this tally sheet going in my mind.

$450 for hotel, food for 4, including tickets @ $25 dollars a head x 3 :the price for the exquisite auditory torture at 124dB. K1 as a participant was tortured for free, although she enjoyed less of it being on the stage behind the bank of speakers.

Sandblasting, Loud Rock Concert 115dB
Pain begins 125dB
Pneumatic riveter at 4' 125dB
Jet engine at 100', Gun Blast 140dB

I figure I must be spending too much time in my cave to not be able to comprehend that people actually want to do this for FUN!

I am still processing (always processing) but the thing that struck me is the extremeness of it all. The music has to be louder, the costumes more glittery, the makeup heavier, --faster! more! bigger! Somehow it has grown past ridiculous to the point of true insanity. Does no one notice? Or is it just to unpopluar to speak up? Or is this what the majority really wants? The market usually provides what the people buy, do is this what people really want?

Whichever, I am not one of them. I did not, can not, and will not drink the koolaide.

Since I honor my commitments, I will honor this one and willingly agree to submit until the beginning of May. I will likely be a little deafer and perhaps punch drunk from the assault on my presumably more refined sensitivities, but even more committed to living a sane and rational life.

My husband once told me to ask why five times. And now that I do the world looks much different.

PS. The job is still great, full of exciting potential and I am honing my manifestation skills. My mind is lit up like a pinball machine, and it feels so good after being buried for the last few years.

somewhere between mundane and ridiculous

2008-01-21T03:15:00.000-08:00

All it takes a bad haircut to set in motion the wheels of my sorry mind. Was it poor judgement or the universe taking a little back of the good fortune I've had lately? It began with the impulsive decision that I needed a trim, and was facing a busy week. I felt somehow virtuous as I sat to wait my turn in this drive-thru haircutter, thinking of the fifty or so dollars I wouldn't be wasting on such a silly thing as haircut. The girl who came to get me was sweet and used all the right buzz words but I crossed my fingers anyway as I always do when someone new wields scissors in back of my head. I explained what I wanted and she -- as we say in nurse speak --verbalized understanding. One side went fine. I had just begun to relax when -snip. It was done. The girl in her sweet voice said " There hows that?" I said "It is shorter on one side. Way shorter than I wanted." Sweet voice said, "oh, it is a little shorter." I said " A little?? Its about two inches shorter!" Sweet voice trembled and the color rose in her cheeks. At one point she even looked to the ceiling, in a way that made me wonder if she was praying to the goddess of hairdressers to rescue her. I just couldn't let my anger out after that. I thought about the thirteen bucks I'd pay for the haircut and how she told me she was working six days a week. I was polite, paid and left. And ranted to my own hair goddess about the injustice of having to grow these bangs out once again, but the heated leather seat beneath my ample behind reminded my that I really can't complain if a bad haircut is the worst I have to suffer.

can you say ...overtime?

2008-01-14T15:22:00.000-08:00

Ok, so two weeks in and I am still loving the new job, although I am fighting my normal tendency to think I can do it all. I have lately begun to see the comedy in the part of myself that always says "I can do that!" I see so many possibilities, and how things can be done and I have often way underestimated what it really takes ( often in terms of time) to do them. So I've gotten myself into a few pickles biting off more than I can chew. It used to be a source of frustration and depression. Now it is more of a source of amusement-- like when the joke IS on you, but you finally can bring yourself to laugh at it too. Now I can hear myself say it " I can do it! I can do that!" and part of me goes "Oh boy, here I go again..." I guess its a good thing to see possibility and believe in my own ability to figure things out. But it is a really really nice thing not to be beating myself up all the time anymore for not actually doing it all. Suddenly many things seem easier, and I am actually doing more than when I worried about it. Funny isn't it?

I'm still alive and well..

2008-01-11T19:18:00.000-08:00

I'm still alive and well,
I know sometimes it gets a little hard to tell--
but I'm still alive and well.

2008 fell on me like a roomful of hungry children.
I suppose I knew what I was getting into. I suppose I like the sudden importance my attention seems to have. Call it ego, try as I might I still have one and it is grinning delightfully.
The new job is sort of like falling into vacuum. There is potential in everything but also the weight of making it all manifest. A great scary thrill. What really kicks me is how suddenly I am heard. Of course there are many good reasons for management to stroke me. I am the next best bet. How fast the wind changes..
I will enjoy it for what it is.
I will also test the limits and see where my ideas may carry me.
I am living in interesting times...

As for the rest. There is this insatiable competitive cheer leading monster to feed. Which has brought me to question many things, mostly regarding parents. I see an UNBELIEVABLE effort and assets sunk into this project and am amazed at how little I hear from the parents. There is something distinctly lemming-like about the parent meetings. I go this year because I promised and will see it through. But honestly, I am not converted. On the whole, though, it seems out of balance. An incredible expenditure financially and impact on the family schedule.

I also have been reviewing my perennial guilt over not being a soccer mom. In starting work, I have realized how I need the stimulation and challenges of my work. I felt more alive this past two weeks getting up at 5:30 am than before. Of course that may be an adrenaline high and I may crash and burn next week but.. right now it is great! (woooo hooo!!!)
I confess I tried to like cooking, but really only do it to stop my stomach from growling or to make sure my kids have healthy fuel. I confess that there is nothing more deadening to my soul than picking up the same hairband off the floor for 3 days running(after that it is trash), and the laundry and the dishes and the dust rhinos.... Oh kill me already. I tried to be content with keeping a good house and clean well accessorized children but...
I just can't do it. I look at the MoMs at the bus stop and listen to their talk of classroom volunteering and PTO and I want to melt into the sidewalk. Of course I live in the kind of neighborhood where the moms go running, the dads go running, hell even the dogs are in great shape...I tried running. My knees hurt and I had to pee. Good thing I have two acres to hide on.
I spent two hours chaperoning a field trip to look at some rocks and thought I would lose my hearing when the bus started "singing"(screaming). Calgon would not be enough to take me away.Maybe tequila, but that brings other issues with it.
So I live with this mild mother guilt. I can't do it. I'm not sorry for having my children, but I sure don't want to expand it to dealing with any one else's. They showed me what it really meant to love, but I can feel myself slowly consumed if I do not pull away. Sometimes my daughters seem surprised that I want to go out to meet with an adult friend. They are puzzled-- What you don't want to be with me? WhY?
To be just for a while someone more than your mom or someones wife. Someone I used to be and still am
somewhere.

or a bolt..

2007-12-31T19:35:00.000-08:00

From the Suggestion Box:

2007-12-31T19:29:00.000-08:00

2007 ... the final hours

2007-12-31T18:44:00.000-08:00

I will admit I am not feeling the urgency to leave 2007 that I felt to leave 2004, 2005 and 2006. I feel generally grateful that for me 2007 passed without explosions, death or dismemberment, that many goals I set at the last new year were actually met. I felt I have repaired the holes in my hull, mended the sails and set the rudder. I can see the breeze on the water and soon it will pull me along into something new. I guess it is hope that I feel fully again. After so long wandering about punch-drunk, it feels rather miraculous.
I am the Fool of the Tarot. Wish me luck. Yoikes and away!

To all of my friends, you know who you are. It was your notes and calls and hugs that brought me back from the edge of the abyss, or at least gave me good reason to find my way. I have on my list for the new year to make a point of reminding you who you are and how very much you are worth to me.

To make manifest

2007-12-22T07:35:00.000-08:00

For quite a while now I have been sending out to the universe a call for a new occupation. I have wanted to step back from patient care since the tremors are embarrassing and required me to overcompensate with a show of professional confidence that became exhausting. I have had limited opportunity to expand professionally since the home and children where always my domain in entirety. I don't know how other superwomen did it, but when I tried to I took a nose dive and had to retire back to house motherhood. I embraced what I could, but found that stir craziness bubbling up again. I want to work for the stimulation, socialization and respect. I like to feel that I am valued. I like the feeling that I have economic value. It goes with the apocalyptic leanings I have blogged about before. I need to know I can survive on my own. And last but not least, I hate asking anyone for money. I have come to understand that I am not comfortable being dependant. I also tried really hard to put on the apron and be content with that. But children and the incessant "mommy look!" s that go with it wear me down. I want to speak in big words and long sentences. I try to honor it as the most important job in the world, but ... I guess I just can't take it full time... Isn't it ironic?
So last week the universe answered. A memo went up describing what I had asked for, but the position was full time. Oh no. No way. Not again. But thanks to a life friend and college of mine, I was encouraged to throw my hat in the ring and make my conditions.
And what do you know but they offered me the position and accepted my conditions. In fact I was highly recommended by my managers. They are willing to train and hopefully I can earn a certification. !
As always there is that anxiety. But the lure of learning and growing... and all this during school hours!!!
Of course the reaction in the family is positive with a reserve. No one wants their world to be affected.
Well. We'll see. Because the other thing I have been asking the universe for is for my world to conform now to my direction, as it has been for so many years the other way around.

It's just a bunch of garbage

2007-12-19T15:04:00.000-08:00

http://www.storyofstuff.com/index.html

If you are in my email list you got this link. This is the best explanation of what has been bothering me ( as both a participant and a rebel) for a long time. I have had this vague unease about the future and find myself craving to be viable off the grid. Thoughts like, what would it be like if the power went off for a week? Never mind just off. What would I do? What could I eat if the grocery store was closed or say-- blown up? So I have been having these kind of apochalyptic thoughts for years now, and have brushed it off as a form of paranoia or perhaps transference of anxiety from the childhood stories of my mothers hometown
being blown to bits in WW2.

I guess I deep down believe that ,yes, it really can all just go away. It is a possibility. It is the first thing I thought of when 9/11 happened. Wow. It is just a little bit of America, imagine it was a whole city. Not impossible. But maybe and what if have lead me to quiet insanity before.
Now I wonder after seeing this video if it is simply the gut reaction that there is something fundamentally wrong with our culture,and that we cannot continue the present course.I try to avoid advertisement, but it has so diluted any media that it is difficult to see what's going on in the world and not be exposed. What bothers me most is when I don't even conciously hear it anymore. Because when I really listen it is pure insanity. Spin and play on words and images. Marketing to children whose parents are to exhausted from the treadmill they aquiesce just to shut them up. Can't disappoint the children!

So as usual I will have my opinion and then promptly look in my own back yard, or gargbage can and shopping bag, as it were. So maybe I'll pledge in 2008 to not buy anything I won't use for 5 more years, or use up everything I have, or something noble like that... Drat, no more pen and paper splurges. I did realize over the last 10 years I have started and never filled at least as many journals. What made me think I needed a new one? I wonder.

The mirror of the past

2007-12-16T17:08:00.000-08:00

All this snow and ice has me housebound. The plow guy was MIA until noon after the storm. I came to fully appreciate how wimpy I have become when walked K2 to a playdate friend up the hill. Gee, this snow is deep. Didn't look so deep from the cozy warm front window... Even the cats recoil from the cold that blasts in the door and and they scurry away with pinched faces.

In this forced holding pattern, I had a rare gift. Hubby has been in one of his mad digital conversion fits. His goal is to convert every tape, slide, film, or other "ancient" media form into a library of digital files for posterity or who ever gets a kick out of it. I have had two reel to reel tapes since forever that my mom gave me. They were labelled cryptically in German with dates of 1960 and 1970.

So on my desk was a bright shiny new CD with mp3 files of ancient history. It took a little fiddling with volume and headphones to fully get it, but suddenly I was hearing my mother's voice. Much thinner, much younger. Then my father's. Talking to the tape which was to be sent to my mother's mother in Germany. They talked of their new town and church, of the friendly people, how things compared with their home. They talked of Kennedy's election over Nixon. I heard my mother giggle with the barely suppressed news that she was pregnant with the child before me, who would die in infancy.

The last segment she spoke to her sister in 1970. She rejoiced in having a rare afternoon to herself without the interruption of children. She was explaining the current stresses of her life- inflation, layoffs, kids turning to drugs. She mentioned each of us and where we were and what we looked like. All of our good qualities she praised. My father's work and the perilous position he was in with waves of layoffs. She was taking college courses to get her teaching certificate and the mother-juggling she had to do to get that all done and all of us taken care of.

Then she said that what she missed the most was talking to her mother. How different it felt to make decisions alone with out her counsel. I heard my own voice in hers. Funny that I just told the sky last night that I missed her. It almost seemed that she was answering, 'I know, I was where you are once. It is the way of things.'

All this almost two hours of non-stop talking was in German and I understood it all as if I were still there lying on the rug of our living room in the house where I began. The language I thought I had forgotten was not even noticeable to me any more.

Our minds are amazing things.

Bippity Boppity BOO !

2007-11-27T16:51:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a fairy princess...

I don't know why, but lately I've been getting a big kick out of these old pictures of me. Maybe I'm a little homesick. Maybe I am just envious of the innocence I see.

The gown was a pink flannel nightgown, with silver paper doilies sewn on, and the crown and wand were covered with foil. I thought it was awesome! I guess shoes weren't in the budget...

just a light in the darkness..

2007-11-25T13:57:00.000-08:00

For sometime now the living room has been empty. It was painted and all the old furniture moved to for the ultimate makeover. The Christmas fever descended on my youngest the day after Thanksgiving and I found myself dragging three boxes of Christmas decorations down to the empty treeless room. Within an hour it and her face were transformed by the soft glow of hundreds of lights winding in loopy trails all around the floor. She sat in the midst of it, smiling at me--illuminated, luminous. So magical and beautiful.
I am thankful for that face and the wisdom of it. Joy is really a simple thing. Hang around a kid long enough and they'll remind you.

The pox on it

2007-11-18T13:54:00.000-08:00

K1 is doing a report on disease in the 17th and 18th century. We were just talking about small pox. It was not long ago in my line of work there were meetings and training and signup sheets for volunteers willing to recieve the first immunizations and participate in the mass vaccinations of population that would follow. We were shown photos, thankfully old ones since small pox has been allegedly erradicated. I thought of my professional exposure and my children. For a moment or two I glimpsed a panic of self preservation that can make the best organization unravel. And then I was again safe in my present. My well fed and healthy present. We are bessed, lucky and spoiled. So when our turn comes, we should not complain.

Sock conspiracy

2007-11-14T06:58:00.000-08:00

One closet down, five to go. What is it about spring and fall that make me want to turn everything upside down and rebuild it? I always have the fantasy of finding the mates to all the lost socks. Never happens. I bet as soon as I give up on an orphan and chuck it, the mate turns up and I hold onto it thinking "I've just seen it somewhere". Maybe I should date stamp them or something. Each orphan is allowed 30 days in the sock basket, before it shall be vanquished (I've been watching alot of Charmed lately).

So that is about as profound as I feel like getting today. I am off to the upstairs realm to further rummage, sort and chuck.

The dangers of dinner time

2007-11-14T06:48:00.000-08:00

Last night at the dinner table I was accosted by the pigtail gang. It wasn't pretty believe me... I gave them the slip at homework time and made my escape.

Thank god for homework.

2007-11-10T18:51:00.001-08:00

Everyone has a unique perspective.

Must've done something right!

2007-11-07T05:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday there was no school and after the kids did the homework they had shunned the night before we went to... The Mall. Yes, that beehive of consumerism. I suppose I do the bees an injustice since they are not flying into the hive with little credit cards to buy honey with money(a poet!) they don't have. Well, anyway, you get the picture. I hate the mall because, like tabloid news of Britney Spears, it fascinates and disgusts me at the same time. I feel that inner whinny child awaken in me to scream "I want! I want!". Yet the genes I carry from my immigrant parents are appalled at the prices so brazenly asked for such shoddy goods, and the marketing machine that assumes you believe you are getting a bargain. I think the scariest thing for me is to watch the kids in the mall. The little buyers.

Little K2, with all of 8 years of shopping experience( if you include stroller time), entered Claire's on a mission to buy something with the remains of her birthday money. She circled and circled glittering pink garden of lipgloss eden. Finally I suggested a wallet that I knew she could not resist. Pink metallic pretend-leather with huge gem stones glued on it. I just wanted to get done in the store. I did not intend the lesson that unfolded. K2 was thrilled, she dug out her dollars and we counted pennies. She had barely enough. Then I dropped the bomb. You can buy the wallet, but you will only have a few pennies of all this money left to put in it. Is it worth it? Or would you rather keep the money and find some wallet or ziplock back or altoids tin at home to keep it in? She put the wallet back and marched out of the store, a little frustrated, but unscathed.
Mom -1 Mall- 0

The best was in abercrombie, whose marketing strategy seems to be to confront you with the super-sized bare chested male model that you will neither be or see in real life (not to be confused with reality tv) and then pound your brain with some nondescript dance music until you submit to buying their tissue paper T-shirt for an arm and both legs. I often refuse to walk on that side of the mall, much less go in there, but alas, K1 had several gift cards burning a hole in her purse. K2, bless her, is as sensitive to loud noise as I am, so she walked around with her hands over her ears. Several well outfitted twiggy teens were sifting through the clothing, looking like a scene from Laguna Beach or the Hills. Occasionally you'd see a suburban mom-in-waiting trailing along while her bright faced daughter darted eagerly from rack to rack. Finally K2 and I retreated to the bench outside and let K1 browse.

K1 came out with a very large bag with that naked man on it, and a very small little shirt in it. She did not look satisfied. She complained that the prices where too high, and the people that work there weren't really nice. I asked why and she mimicked quite satisfactorily the huge pec man who complained he'd worked all day and had to go to the gym, and very tan girl who couldn't wait to get done to go home and tan. She used the words "phony", "not real" and "get a life."

I was so proud.

2007-11-04T17:19:00.000-08:00

Coming soon...

The splendidly mundane adventures of ..

HARD ROCK MAN

TGI Monday

2007-11-04T16:10:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what happened this weekend. I feel hung over and didn't even drink. Maybe I should have. K1 is better though I took her to the doc for a check over and she has a walking pneumonia, which so explains the lingering fatgue. Another Z pak ought to fix it. I should get me some of that... Any way she is now teaching K2 a cheerleading routine and they are getting along fightening well. Nothing like a little illness to make everyone enjoy each other more. SHHH... (knock on wood)

If everyone goes to school this week, I may regain my balance.

2007-11-02T06:09:00.000-07:00

K2 is doing a research project on a rebel and she chose Katharine Hepburn. I went to the library to pull some books for her while she was home sick, and, of course, came home with one or two on the subject that I wanted to read myself. The story begins with her grandparents and describes the suicides of her grand father and uncle, and the precarious position the women where left in financially and socially. The utter dependence on men which drove her grandmother to push KH's mother and aunts into college even though educated women where undesirable. KH's mother fought for women's suffrage and birth control. Her aunt went through medical school and was appalled by the treatment of venereal disease. At a time when there was no treatment yet for gonorrhea or syphilis, women were infected, and hysterectomies performed if they did not die from it. Often the men divorced them for infertility or adultery,using the disease they infected their wife with as proof. When young brides died it was called "honeymoon appendicitis" and routinely covered up, even to the patient. It was a truly appalling time. I read it out loud with my 13 year old daughter next to me, and she was amazed. Study hard, never give up your independence I said, never let that happen again. Was there ever a time, in any cultures history, that women perpetrated such a thing on men? How does this happen?

What, it's over already???

2007-11-01T17:03:00.000-07:00

How typical of holidays. The enormous anticipation. The flurry of frantic preparation-- and then, it's over, done, finito. There's that morning after of decorations around the house. I just put them up, should I take them down already? Seems like a lot of wasted effort. And then there's Christmas... I was in the stores on the Saturday before Halloween and all the costumes were gone and the shelves were stocked with Christmas stuff. Reminds me of one blizzardy March when I lost one of my winter gloves and searched through a department store full of shorts and bathing suits.

K2 went trick or treating, all glittered again, and K1 stayed home with me to watch Charmed and not (!) eat the 5 lbs of candy I got for the trick or treaters that never came (we have a long driveway, but I like to be prepared). At least I'm stocked up for every possible mood swing until April. Somehow the candy always disappears. I think the little gremlins come in at night and eat them because I am always finding the wrappers behind the couch. They sometimes smear some chocolate on K2's cheeks, too, probably hoping I'll blame her.

K1 finally made it through a whole day of school, and I was so happy to hear her back to the chatter box she usually is. Some virus. She is still tired, but at least not to tears anymore.

K2 is standing next to me singing a song from Spirit(the horse movie, not deity) at the top of her lungs, thumbing through a toy catalog with kid-size Cadillac Escalades in it. She points out a big doll house identical to the one she had two or three years ago, which collected dust, then clutter and now resides at the dump. And so the next season begins. When I worked in the hospital a young nurse I trained would sing a happy song when the stress became extreme, just to break the tension. Sort of like the insane giggle but more socially acceptable. That song was jingle bells. It worked.
So as the new season begins, I sing jingle bells -- but for me it has a slightly different meaning...

Is it just me?

2007-10-30T05:47:00.000-07:00

I found my thoughts in my morning coffee, just as I expected. They were still squirming enough to bring me to the keyboard, even though I onlyhave 10 minutes before I have to run. I now don't know where to begin. I spent most of my life feeling like I was on the outside looking in, watching sometimes tragedy, sometimes comedy in which things seemed to be so clear to me, but not to the players. Maybe I need medication. Maybe that would help me feel like I belong. But then when I look closer I'm not sure I want to be one of them. Chances are if you are reading this you are one of the more conscious beings on this planet, and you may very well feel the same. What I am seeing now is a species that is rather insane and self destructive. A culture that values growth and expansion but is terrified of death and contraction. In the human body, it is called cancer. Rest is not rest anymore it is an alternate diversion. If you are not doing something, and passive activities like sleeping do not qualify, there is something wrong with you. And if there is something wrong with you, you better fix it quick or something worse will happen. Yikes! What are people doing to themselves?
Are most people handling it, oblivious, or just putting on a brave face?

Some people don't feel pain...

2007-10-29T18:08:00.000-07:00

but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I have had some interesting reactions to K1 's mystery disease. Yes, the Mono tests were negative (jumping up and down for joy). A negative on a laboratory report does not necessarily relieve symptoms, however. So there was much consternation about the house and confusion with friends that she was not staying the full day of school. She's droopy, spent most of the last two weeks on the couch, yet the news is supposed to change everything. What is it with the world that we are not allowed to stop? I had more thoughts on that but they ran out of the room when the kids came in. I'll find them in my coffee in the morning.
Ok one kid on my shoulder , the other almost on my lap, I guess I have to stop now and put them to bed... Stay tuned for more adventures from the recovery room....

Photography is phun.

2007-10-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

The secrets of the universe lie within....

Taking pictures of nothing in particular with supermacro setting. Its a great camera if I could figure out how to use it(and remember what I figured out the last time).

I have two supermodels in my house who are ready at a moments notice for a shoot.

adrift in the sparkling aftermath

2007-10-28T08:11:00.000-07:00

This morning the house became suddenly silent. After the door closed the last time, I found my self standing in the glittering rubble of the morning after a costume event. In my right hand was the phone, in my left the vacuum cleaner. I could hear the refrigerator hum, but I could also hear my head pounding. I set both down in the mess and walked away. In the clutter and chaos of my office, where all things of mine are thrown to be dealt with later, my chair was in two peices. The screw knob had fallen off the bottom of the chair months ago and I didn't have the patience to figure out where it came from. Now where did I put it?
Last night, while I was trying to find my elf ears for my costume, K2 sprinkled generous amounts of glitter on her feather puff wand and went around blessing every one in the house with her magic. Then she spun around on my chair until it fell apart. When she saw how displeased I was with all the fairy dust everywhere and my lack of ears, she pleaded that she really didn't DO ANYTHING to the chair.
There is always a point where all the irritation becomes just ridiculous, and that was it for me. I propped the chair back against the wall and sighed. A giggle bubbled up from the madwoman inside of me.
"Lets just go" I said, and we went.
And it was fine, until this morning when it was all still there.
After searching all horizontal surfaces within a four foot radius, I found the knob on the bottom of the chair, screwed into a hole that did nothing. I didn't remember putting it there, but new I had put it somewhere where I wouldn't lose it. I put the chair together, and felt I was now really getting somewhere. I unearthed my laptop from the bills and school reports and, yes, more glitter and booted up and logged on.
So what what I going so write about today? I forgot. I 'm just glad to finally be here.

just a few minutes ago it was yesterday

2007-10-26T21:53:00.000-07:00

Today is K2's birthday. Well technically not until 11:47pm tonight. I was a bad mom and had nothing prepared due to K1's velcro like behavior this week. Awkard, as she is only a couple inches shorter than me. I thought they'd be easier to peel off when they got older, but apparently illness reverses that. So anyway, a friend called and I saw an escape for an evening and gleefully told the kids to ask dad what's for supper. Reality kicked in again as I was driving home at 11p. Who knew Price Chopper was open at this time of night and I could put a one woman birthday surprise together! The wonders of civilization never cease to amaze. Of course there was a rather creepy fellow in the frozen foods section. 'Pizza and a movie, huh?' I thought. ' Forgot somebody's birthday?' he thought. You know a huge grocery store is kind of a spooky place in the middle of the night.

Well, we are having chocolate cake for breakfast. Life is good.
Let's see if I can wake up early enough to light the candles....

to blog or not to blog... that is the question.

2007-10-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

Ok, I'm on the bandwagon now folks. Maybe this will be a solution to the profound silence my friends sometimes experience from me. I apologize to any feeling neglected. I love you all, but sometimes find it excruciating to make one more conversation. With all the "mommy" 's there is so little replenishing quiet to be found. Just the presence of another two legged life form in the house has my attention prickling. The best time is when it is just me the clocks and the refrigerator hum, with the occasion burst of keyboard tapping, of course. K1 the larger of my two offspring has been home with --what is not yet cofirmed, but looking suspiciously like-- mono. The girl who could drive me and her little sister, aka K2, crazy with her energy is so sadly tired and droopy and able to lie for 20 of 24 hours on the couch or in bed. While hubby is highly skeptical and believes in the old "tough it out" approach. I have personal experience with this kind of fatigue and the guilt inspired by the dismay of the healthy people around you. I told her that I believe her if she says she just can't get up and go to school. She is in tears with that guilt, and says she is sorry to me everyday that she can't get up. Hubby says , albeit after too much wine, that I am creating a monster. I think the worse monster is created by threatening the trust a child has in you to take care of them, and teaching them to doubt and ignore the signals their body is sending them. I want my daughters to listen to their bodies wisdom. K1's is telling her she needs to cucoon for a while.

I am once again impressed by the pressure of the world "that runs on dunkin". Don't stop for god's sake! Don't stop! I can hear the anxiety in the voices of the school office and nurse. The dismay that she is out for so long. From activities to fundrasiers the incoming blizzard threatens to overwhelm and smother. Like junk mail I begin to resent them. It reminds me often of a schizoprenic patient I saw in nursing school. Flight of ideas. Insanity. Chaos pretending to be order.

I may end up on a mountain top one day. Or I may just get better at blowing it all off.

Listen to the voices today, on radio, TV , even in the grocery line or office. Listen to how much fear there is every where. War death disease terrorism recession interest rates bacteria, not to mention wrinkles and clean toilets ( does anyone really believe they can or should bother disinfecting a toilet???) It is amusing when it is not annoying.

But today I will go forth and try to not be afraid of the insanity, not be a vector for the fear, and to be amused as much as I can.

Is there any body out there?( with the Pink Floyd echo)