Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Still a mystery to me

Oh hai. I'm prograstinating at work severely. Blame it on my boss being away, the vague nature of my project, or maybe it's the first trimester fogginess?

Soooo, in my current state of expecting number three, which I'm so happy and excited and scared about, I'm prone to a lot of introspection. I just don't know how much longer I can do this, and I don't know what my alternatives are, and if I consider alternatives, I don't know how attractive or realistic they are. 

I wish I could just be a stay at home mum and raise my kids for the next 10 years, and then do something to keep me busy like be a librarian or something.  Or, I wish I could take two to three years off work and then go back to school to do something like nursing. Or, I wish I could  move home where I wouldn't feel subject to the rat race and where I could feel honest about making an honest living, without the pressure of being shoulder to shoulder with pushy 23 year olds.  See? None of those are likely, and if by chance lightening were about to strike, I'm sure I'd still find a way to be miserable about them. 

I left it too late. I got stuck.  I need to work on dealing with it.

On the sunnier side, Wiley and Dashie are blooming. Wiy spent the past few months in a deep passion regarding american football, and now is emerging to look around for another obsession; not by choice, but out of necessity until it starts again.  Dash is just so sweet, although I think I'm the only one that sees it. He's very articulate and passionate, and as he gets older I can see him working to control his emotions (even if it's only putting his hands over his ears when we're telling him something he finds upsetting, like "not nice.")

No-one is happy in their jobs, right? Not policemen, phone men, teachers, lawyers... so the trick is to find something relatively easy, and relatively well paid, and just do it so you can focus on enjoying the other stuff, yes? And repeat.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Yes, sir, it IS a process

Since October 2010, we went home for Christmas (which was SO lovely, it was just so wonderful to be somewhere that made SENSE), embarked on a cray 9 month house-hunt, during which time we lived in a "tenement" [-my father in law] with a five-generation family of brazen mice, found a house, got outbid on the house, found another house after SIGNIFICANT DAILY SEARCHING, secured a mortgage after SIGNIFICANT DAILY FAXING AND SCANNING AND EMAILING of documents, closed the deal with Miller the 38-year-old father of ten, and moved into our "maybe not forever but at least for the next five years" house.  We also put Wiley into kindergarten, and saw Dash emerge as a passionate two year old.

Well.  Sweet, sweeeeet Wednesday night on my own with a mug of wine and a Trader Joe's frozen dinner and the rest of the week off of work.  No better time than to rediscover that oh yeah, I invented a blog during a personal crisis at work, because I wanted some help remembering wtf I spend my days doing.  So let's just carry on as though nothing happened.

This week has been difficult, a bit.  I mean, work drama aside (here's the aside: ugh ugh ugh blah blah blah. The end.), it's been great to be slowly winding down for the year. I always find this time, and any pleasant time, bittersweet. Yes, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas, but soon it'll feel a lot like mid-January. Aaaargh!!! Also, I am SO EXCITED to see my brother and sister soon, and it will be so lovely to just hang out with them and soak them in. But on the minus side, it's only 2 weeks; what will i get them for Christmas and will they be disappointed; soon they'll be gone again AND THEN WHAT?!?!  And oh, the pull!  I have days off from work, and it's such joy to have time to myself, but so hard to justify not spending time with the children.  Now that I have this oft fantasized time, what to do with it? I so often cry that I wish I could do X, Y or Z, but where will I find the time?!?!?!?!?! Now that I have the time, did I get a bikini wax/take Dash to the Children's Museum/do thoughtful shopping for Christmas/sand and spraypaint the laquered box/organize the "shit room? NO! I did go to get my non-driving licence, after approx ten years of wandering about with my passport/greencard as my primary ID. Hooray! And I did purchase gloves for Wiy (after significant comparison shopping between Marshalls/Old Navy/Target), liquid plumber to clear out the bathroom sink and a new lunch box for him.  And I did tidy the bedroom marginally.  But really. Not a major success.

I have another day off tomorrow, and I have Chyvone here to take care of poor Dash.  I promise I'll be home by 3.20-ish, with Wiy, so you get to have a nice quiet morning in, a solid nap, and then we'll be there to bring the fun!  But I just don't want to spend another aimless day being marginally productive.  My Free Time is so rare and precious (hence the caps) that I tend to get stunned by the freedom, and end up being unproductive, hence guilt spiral.

Let's think of things for me to do:

Go to town to some of them FANCY charity shoppes! See what they have in the way of decor!
Get that bikini wax...ugggg.
Okay.  Maybe it's a day of indulgence in la cite? Maybe I drop Wiy off at school, go to Mood or whatevs and buy some fabric for a roman shade in the kitchen, on to a museum (!!!), uptown to Memorial thrift, work back downtown to Housingworks, and back in Clinton Hill for a 2pm wax, then school pickup feeling so fresh and so clean.

I dunno.

I feel that I lament having no free time, but when I do, it's either so pressurized that I'm frozen like a deer in the headlights, or it's so guilt-laden that I come straight home.

Whatevs, I'm happiest with my boys. My loves.

Today Wiy seemed to be happy that I was there to shepherd him and the others from class to karate, and it really was great to be the shoe tier/belt arranger.  I stood outside the door watching the whole class, whilst overseeing end of month invoicing on tha side.  I can't beleive that was actually an hour long.  It was and is so fun and yet so terrifying to see him interact with his peers.  To do the somersault that he has been so proudly demostrating at home; to take a weak punch at the bag, and then glance back over his shoulder at me. Fit to burst. Walking home as usual he was full of the dramas of the day - who was on yellow; who wouldn't sit next to him. My eldest son is a sweet little boy and I am so thankful for him.

Baby Dash! He's two and four months, and he is a force to be reckoned with.  Morning: snuggles in bed with me, followed by a WHITE yoghurt and a narna.  Later, when Miss Chyvone arrived, he bargained hard for "one more Caillou," after starting off ambitious with demands for "Finns (Cars 2)." I came home in the afternoon to do a steeeuuuupid call for work, and came upstairs to find him asleep next to C, sprawled on his blankey, on the sofa. SNUGGS!! In the afternoon he was so happy, as always, to see his other half Wiy. Poor little lamb was under the weather though, and skipped over much of his dinns to focus on his demands for a "BASST!" Demands met, he finally went to bed after having his preliminary snuggle in "the tent."

I love those boys more than I could ever imagine loving anyone.  Every cell in my body is turned in their direction. My Heart Beats Their Names. This evening I have been wondering about what led me to this point in my life. Not that it's necessarily the wrong point, but it certainly isn't what I would have imagined of myself, career-wise, and location-wise, as an idealistic teen.  Solo-wine causes introspection, and I've been thinking about how things would have been different if I'd have 'been true to thine own self" or followed my dreams or whatev.  [full disclosure, at the time that I took my arse-backwards fall into my current career, I had LITERALLY no dreams to speak of] I think I've shaken off a lot of that thought of having "sold my soul" these days.  We have a good life; the boys are happy; thank goodness I can provide for them and give them what I wish I could have had myself; while I'm not around nearly as much as I'd like, I am around more than other working mums; I cherish my time with them on Fridays.

I have also been wondering about what counsel I would give my sixteen year old sons, as they take the definitive steps into their adult lives. That I have no answer for right now. And I'm a bit too far into this bottle of delightful fizzy TJ's to be coherent about it. I just hope they find fulfillment, either in their careers, or through their families, or ideally, both.  I just want them to live a good life.

I started this "blog" in a moment of morbidity, wondering when the time came for reckoning on my life, whether I'd be able to remember the precious heartachingly beautiful moments that came woven through the dirge. I just want to be able to have lived a good life.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

It's A Process

Tricky first post as misison statement type thing. 

It's trite but it's true. Life with small children and a job flies by at a hundred miles an hour.  Although there's precious little time for introspection after the babies are fed and clothed and clean and sleeping, and after food for tomorrow has been portioned and labeled, and after timesheets are done and the laptop is snapped shut...although it's hard to find the time, I'd hate to look back and wonder what I did with my life.

Today is a Tuesday.  As good a day as any to collect my thoughts about balancing all the different pieces of my life - motherhood, wifehood, ex-pat-hood, corporate shilling and generally being a fish out of water that's trying to be excellent to others.

Self improvement is such an American thing, but I'm a sucker for it.  My life is a work in progress, and every day I see and hear about things that I wish i could do, or become, or absorb into my life.  I wish I could cook more...excercise regularly...have the perfect wardrobe...be confident...have patience. 

This is my experiment in accountability, as well as my time capsule for when life slows down and I finally have time to look around and wonder what I did with my life.