1. denial and isolation. "she'll change her mind, it'll be okay"
2. anger. "this sucks hard and doesn't she know how impossible it is to find care and I don't have time for this and I'm just so freakin' pissed off"
3. bargaining. "just stay and watch ours"
4. depression. "what am I going to tell HD?"(while crying, a lot)
5. acceptance. coming soon...
our daycare lady is shutting down at the end of September and moving away. I'm so sad (stage 4). HD loves her, and her kid, and has flourished and done amazing things since going there.
I'm so sad.
8.31.2009
8.25.2009
jalapeno hands and other such things
I'm feeling kind of blah...I have a week off before crazy busy time starts and I'm feeling very ambivalent about life. and about writing. on the blog. I have much and little to say, and finding the right words to convey my blah is a little overwhelming at the moment. as much as I love some down time from crazy busy time, I feel much more productive when I have a lot going on. now I just sit around. and zone. out.
I slept until 11 today.
and I didn't even enjoy it. well, I mean, of course I enjoyed the sleeping. but then I woke up and was very upset that I no longer had time to do all the things I wanted to today. haircut will have to wait. shopping too.
but before I forget, I need to brag a little.
yesterday dad and I went to register the replacement vehicle (to this) at the DMV. while up at the counter, a gentleman came up next to us and needed to register his new car. the worker handed him the form he needed, and the man went to go fill it out. the worker said he could do it there, but the gentleman refused and went to sit down. the gentleman was Hispanic, and though he spoke english well, I thought he may have trouble with the written form.
about 5 minutes later, as we were leaving, the gentleman was still working on his paperwork. I went over and asked him if he needed help, noticing that he had only filled in two boxes. he very gratefully accepted. I filled out the form for him, while chatting in english.
a few things come to mind with this incident:
1. I'm glad I helped him. who knows how long he would have been sitting there, staring at the form, before someone else offered. I wonder if the DMV workers would have helped...
2. one of the biggest anti-immigrant complaints I hear is that immigrants need to learn english.
clearly, this man had. but READING english is much different from speaking it. many of the immigrants I have worked with do not know how to read in their native language, so imagine how difficult it must be to learn to speak AND read a new language.
3. so many times, I'm in situations like this and just walk on. ok, most times, and I really have
been brewing on this fact. I consider myself to be a compassionate person who cares for all people, yet, how often do I take the time to do something simple like helping this gentleman? I feel like a bad person. I complain about the lack of community I feel here, the isolation from my neighbors, yet what do I do to solve that?
I'm glad I helped. this is the beginning of a new era for me -- rather than thinking about how that person over there needs help, I'll help.
finally, on a lighter note, on saturday I made salsa and cut jalapenos without gloves on. my fingertips burned for hours. and now I am sometimes known as jalapeno hands. but the salsa is AWESOME.
I slept until 11 today.
and I didn't even enjoy it. well, I mean, of course I enjoyed the sleeping. but then I woke up and was very upset that I no longer had time to do all the things I wanted to today. haircut will have to wait. shopping too.
but before I forget, I need to brag a little.
yesterday dad and I went to register the replacement vehicle (to this) at the DMV. while up at the counter, a gentleman came up next to us and needed to register his new car. the worker handed him the form he needed, and the man went to go fill it out. the worker said he could do it there, but the gentleman refused and went to sit down. the gentleman was Hispanic, and though he spoke english well, I thought he may have trouble with the written form.
about 5 minutes later, as we were leaving, the gentleman was still working on his paperwork. I went over and asked him if he needed help, noticing that he had only filled in two boxes. he very gratefully accepted. I filled out the form for him, while chatting in english.
a few things come to mind with this incident:
1. I'm glad I helped him. who knows how long he would have been sitting there, staring at the form, before someone else offered. I wonder if the DMV workers would have helped...
2. one of the biggest anti-immigrant complaints I hear is that immigrants need to learn english.
clearly, this man had. but READING english is much different from speaking it. many of the immigrants I have worked with do not know how to read in their native language, so imagine how difficult it must be to learn to speak AND read a new language.
3. so many times, I'm in situations like this and just walk on. ok, most times, and I really have
been brewing on this fact. I consider myself to be a compassionate person who cares for all people, yet, how often do I take the time to do something simple like helping this gentleman? I feel like a bad person. I complain about the lack of community I feel here, the isolation from my neighbors, yet what do I do to solve that?
I'm glad I helped. this is the beginning of a new era for me -- rather than thinking about how that person over there needs help, I'll help.
finally, on a lighter note, on saturday I made salsa and cut jalapenos without gloves on. my fingertips burned for hours. and now I am sometimes known as jalapeno hands. but the salsa is AWESOME.
8.21.2009
Happy Birthday Harper!
My wonderful HD,
Two years ago today, you were pulled, screaming, from my belly. I was crying, until I saw your chubby cheeks and incredibly long eyelashes. A wonderful calm overcame me in your presence. You were little, long, and a horrible eater. And I loved and kissed every bit of you.
Today, you are a big girl, tall and still a horrible eater. I love you more every day, but now I only kiss owies and those beautiful lips. You are my light, and my madness, my wonderful manic little child. Every day is different and interesting because you are part of it. I revel in your words, I brag about your every accomplishment, and I can't believe that you are mine.
Two years and I am still adjusting to being your mother. Most of the time you make it easy -- it is obvious I am your favorite, for now, and I love all the kisses and hugs you bestow upon me. But the way you play with your dad, and light up when he enters a room melts me.
Penny adores you, and you return the love. She loves you most, and you oblige, kissing her, talking to her, and always making sure she is okay. You are a great help in burping her, and keeping her bouncing in the bouncy chair.
I cannot wait to see what the next two years bring, the next 20...it is so wonderfully exciting and I know it will be a blast!
I LOVE YOU Noodle. Happy Birthday!
mom
Today, you are a big girl, tall and still a horrible eater. I love you more every day, but now I only kiss owies and those beautiful lips. You are my light, and my madness, my wonderful manic little child. Every day is different and interesting because you are part of it. I revel in your words, I brag about your every accomplishment, and I can't believe that you are mine.
Two years and I am still adjusting to being your mother. Most of the time you make it easy -- it is obvious I am your favorite, for now, and I love all the kisses and hugs you bestow upon me. But the way you play with your dad, and light up when he enters a room melts me.
Penny adores you, and you return the love. She loves you most, and you oblige, kissing her, talking to her, and always making sure she is okay. You are a great help in burping her, and keeping her bouncing in the bouncy chair.
I cannot wait to see what the next two years bring, the next 20...it is so wonderfully exciting and I know it will be a blast!
I LOVE YOU Noodle. Happy Birthday!
mom
8.20.2009
Round 1 of 5
I'll admit it--I've got quite the ego when it comes to my intelligence and ability. maybe because I've always studied things that interest me, I don't feel I've ever had to work very hard to get good grades. maybe my good grades haven't always translated to knowledge. maybe I just got my system down and went with it.
but I've always been good at school. until now.
actually, I'm being harsh. I still think I'm good at school, it's just now I have to try a bit.
I mean a lot.
and I don't know how to do that. it's hard. and I don't like it.
know what it is? it's all these damn papers. I thought they knew that biology was my specialty. know how much writing I had to do to get a biology degree? right, very little.
but give me a multiple choice test and I'll knock your socks off.
so lets see. graduate school. talking a bunch. thinking a bunch. then writing a bunch.
I DON'T WANT TO BE A WRITER.
I want to be a teacher. whatever.
so last week I had a little big meltdown cause the other part of this whole writing thing includes lesson plans. seriously. hard. at least to the standard that my prof wanted it. and I hate to say I agree with his formula because it means more work for me.
but ultimately, this program rocks. I love my cohort, as much as you can love 27 other people who think they, also, are ALWAYS right. and I'm learning a ton. I guess working hard will be worth it, stressful though it may be.
round 1 complete; 4 more to go...
but I've always been good at school. until now.
actually, I'm being harsh. I still think I'm good at school, it's just now I have to try a bit.
I mean a lot.
and I don't know how to do that. it's hard. and I don't like it.
know what it is? it's all these damn papers. I thought they knew that biology was my specialty. know how much writing I had to do to get a biology degree? right, very little.
but give me a multiple choice test and I'll knock your socks off.
so lets see. graduate school. talking a bunch. thinking a bunch. then writing a bunch.
I DON'T WANT TO BE A WRITER.
I want to be a teacher. whatever.
so last week I had a little big meltdown cause the other part of this whole writing thing includes lesson plans. seriously. hard. at least to the standard that my prof wanted it. and I hate to say I agree with his formula because it means more work for me.
but ultimately, this program rocks. I love my cohort, as much as you can love 27 other people who think they, also, are ALWAYS right. and I'm learning a ton. I guess working hard will be worth it, stressful though it may be.
round 1 complete; 4 more to go...
8.16.2009
8.10.2009
prejudice
we are lucky enough to have cool "kneeling" buses that lower for easier access and have bike racks on the front. so when I decide to be lazy and bus part of the way home, it's quite the comfortable experience.
today, as usual, I signal to the driver that I will be putting a bike on the rack and he lowers the bus for me. not too much of a difference, but the gesture is nice.
ten blocks later, another person goes to put a bike on, this time without the assistance of a kneeling bus. this man was African American and a little scraggly looking. the driver was white. was this a case of discrimination? I don't know. but it caught my eye and I noticed.
later, walking the dog I saw a neighbor of mine who is a transvestite, and a good one. it took me many months to decide man or woman, sex change or not. the hardest part, I believe, was that this particular person is what we would call an "interesting" dresser. always a little purse, always pigtails, sometimes a fun hat. today I found myself thinking that all transvestites should be fashionable dressers and feeling horrible about judging my poor neighbor on her ability to live as a woman because I don't think she dresses like a transvestite, whatever that means.
am I any better than the bus driver? I haven't looked down upon my neighbor, but reflect to myself when I see her. I feel really bad. what do you think?
today, as usual, I signal to the driver that I will be putting a bike on the rack and he lowers the bus for me. not too much of a difference, but the gesture is nice.
ten blocks later, another person goes to put a bike on, this time without the assistance of a kneeling bus. this man was African American and a little scraggly looking. the driver was white. was this a case of discrimination? I don't know. but it caught my eye and I noticed.
later, walking the dog I saw a neighbor of mine who is a transvestite, and a good one. it took me many months to decide man or woman, sex change or not. the hardest part, I believe, was that this particular person is what we would call an "interesting" dresser. always a little purse, always pigtails, sometimes a fun hat. today I found myself thinking that all transvestites should be fashionable dressers and feeling horrible about judging my poor neighbor on her ability to live as a woman because I don't think she dresses like a transvestite, whatever that means.
am I any better than the bus driver? I haven't looked down upon my neighbor, but reflect to myself when I see her. I feel really bad. what do you think?
8.07.2009
Friday
how am I expected to study when my dog lays next to me and farts every 2 minutes? wicked, horrible, RUN from the room farts.
seriously dog.
seriously dog.
8.05.2009
Wednesday
we've been really excited by Harper's ability to begin feeling when she's "gotta go". she talks about peeing all the time, pooping sometimes, and loves that she gets to take her diaper off and sit on her potty.
so lately, when she mentions pee and grabs her diaper, we strip it off and go to the potty. sometimes she goes, sometimes not. but we always let her run around for a bit sans diaper afterwards. tonight taught me better.
as usual, Harper mentioned pee so I stripped her and sent her to the potty and she peed. thinking that was it, I left her to air out for a bit. I had also given her a 1/4 cup measuring cup to keep her busy while I was cooking.
I left the room and heard a tinkling sound and Harper saying "pee, pee, pee". when I peeked back in, she was squatting over the measuring cup on the floor, peeing into it with remarkable accuracy. in fact, pee got on the floor only because the cup overflowed. is this kid ready to give a urine sample or what?
all I could do was laugh. and feel encouraged by her excitement around going to the bathroom. now if we could just get #2 down...
so lately, when she mentions pee and grabs her diaper, we strip it off and go to the potty. sometimes she goes, sometimes not. but we always let her run around for a bit sans diaper afterwards. tonight taught me better.
as usual, Harper mentioned pee so I stripped her and sent her to the potty and she peed. thinking that was it, I left her to air out for a bit. I had also given her a 1/4 cup measuring cup to keep her busy while I was cooking.
I left the room and heard a tinkling sound and Harper saying "pee, pee, pee". when I peeked back in, she was squatting over the measuring cup on the floor, peeing into it with remarkable accuracy. in fact, pee got on the floor only because the cup overflowed. is this kid ready to give a urine sample or what?
all I could do was laugh. and feel encouraged by her excitement around going to the bathroom. now if we could just get #2 down...
8.03.2009
manic sunday/monday
ever feel like your children (and the gods) are conspiring to ruin your life?
I totally understand.
last night was to be a work of art in the studying department: tate hanging art from 8-10, girls in bed by 8 and me alone to finish preparing for my first graduate school presentation that I had totally put off until the last minute.
okay, maybe it was partially my fault. but the kids are still young enough to blame...
here's how the night really went:
7:30. harper in bed. sit down to feed a tired penny. dad leaves.
7:45. put penny in crib. grab beer. sit down to start working.
7:50. harper's up. put her back to bed.
7:55. harper's up. put her back to bed.
this continues every 5 minutes until 8:30.
finally.
8:31. penny wakes. feed penny bottle. penny's wide awake. put penny on play mat. penny freaks.
if she could talk, penny would have said something like, "hey mom, can't you see I'm wide awake and though am normally easy going, I must have you hold me now and for the next hour and a half?"
study. ha. not in this house.
9:50. call tate, "(please for the love of god) are you about done honey? I need some (fucking) help."
10:00. penny transfer to dad occurs, who also still has to do dishes and make lunches for everyone (that's right, my husband makes the lunches because he's that awesome). grab another beer. resume studying.
12:30. bed.
3:30. harper up and pissed. I can't let her cry, too tired, but instead bring her to bed hoping this means more sleep.
kick. kick. kick. flip. kick. kick. kick.
4:00. penny's up. with gas. pissed and crying.
4:45. sleep with the whole friggin' family in our bed. at least we're sleeping.
6:00. harper and dad leave the bed.
7:00. up to feed penny and get ready for school.
7:50. crap, I'm running late.
8:00. barely made it out the door on time. bike tires flat.
AHHHH!!
I totally understand.
last night was to be a work of art in the studying department: tate hanging art from 8-10, girls in bed by 8 and me alone to finish preparing for my first graduate school presentation that I had totally put off until the last minute.
okay, maybe it was partially my fault. but the kids are still young enough to blame...
here's how the night really went:
7:30. harper in bed. sit down to feed a tired penny. dad leaves.
7:45. put penny in crib. grab beer. sit down to start working.
7:50. harper's up. put her back to bed.
7:55. harper's up. put her back to bed.
this continues every 5 minutes until 8:30.
finally.
8:31. penny wakes. feed penny bottle. penny's wide awake. put penny on play mat. penny freaks.
if she could talk, penny would have said something like, "hey mom, can't you see I'm wide awake and though am normally easy going, I must have you hold me now and for the next hour and a half?"
study. ha. not in this house.
9:50. call tate, "(please for the love of god) are you about done honey? I need some (fucking) help."
10:00. penny transfer to dad occurs, who also still has to do dishes and make lunches for everyone (that's right, my husband makes the lunches because he's that awesome). grab another beer. resume studying.
12:30. bed.
3:30. harper up and pissed. I can't let her cry, too tired, but instead bring her to bed hoping this means more sleep.
kick. kick. kick. flip. kick. kick. kick.
4:00. penny's up. with gas. pissed and crying.
4:45. sleep with the whole friggin' family in our bed. at least we're sleeping.
6:00. harper and dad leave the bed.
7:00. up to feed penny and get ready for school.
7:50. crap, I'm running late.
8:00. barely made it out the door on time. bike tires flat.
AHHHH!!
Sunday
I haven't been up this late in ages. I guess this is the price I pay for going back to school.
speaking of which, the work is really starting to pile up. I thought I was ahead, but a 5-week term sure catches up to you quickly. I may go MIA for a little bit. I may find time to check in. my great worry is that I'll have nothing to say.
nothing interesting at least.
speaking of which, the work is really starting to pile up. I thought I was ahead, but a 5-week term sure catches up to you quickly. I may go MIA for a little bit. I may find time to check in. my great worry is that I'll have nothing to say.
nothing interesting at least.
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