Saul Good and Co.

The Universe is the Biggest Troll of Them All

This weekend was simple and simply awesome. HR voluntarily conquered a big scary slide at a street festival, and we did some fall-tastic mucking about at an orchard, but otherwise nothing extraordinary happened. It was just so nice to spend leisurely time with my husband and son (ok, the husband-person did have to work way too much, but the time we did have together was quality). Homelife is cool.

Worklife, on the other hand, is testing me, hard. This Monday has been so haywire, I can only conclude that its happening on the heels of last week's declaration that I would work on being a bigger person is the result of an elaborate punking. Are there hidden cameras around here? Am I the new Truman Show? So far I've kept an even keel, but come ON. Who knows what will happen if the craziness here actually portends the new normal. Adjust, I guess, or if I can't, move on. Even after an especially trying few hours, I'm feeling like everything else in my life is great to the point that I can deal with the not-great as long as I need to.

Today I heard Southern Cross by CSN, and I had JUST been thinking about how tomorrow would have been my dear friend Niki's birthday. That song always makes me think of her, and it was too much of a coincidence to bear. I've been doing all right the past few months in terms of accepting her death, but everyone who's ever lost someone knows that things like songs and special occasions will never stop poking at the bruise. And goddammit, 38 is too few years to not get any more birthdays. Big hugs to everyone lucky enough to have Nik in their lives, tomorrow's going to be a tough one.

Feel-In Part 2 - Parental-phemera

This morning, before my boy was leaving for school, I was going over the day with him, reassuring him that he would have a great time and reminding that he needed to listen to his teachers and not have a tantrum and his little face just crumpled up as he said, "Ok." My big boy, being so brave even when he wasn't feeling it, heartbreaking. That moment was one of the hardest in my life as a mother so far.

We just wrapped up week three of school. Week one was cake, but once the novelty wore off, drop-off got more challenging, and as of last night we spent the entirety of his waking time from when I got home until he left this morning talking about school and why he shouldn't be scared to go. We don't ever introduce the option of him not going. I don't think that's the right thing to do, especially since I know he's fine from the time Mike leaves until he picks him up three hours later. It's just a sucky feeling know HR is experiencing that loneliness of missing us. I always remember liking school, I was never much of a homesick kid, but maybe it was hard for me at first and I just repressed it? In any case, somehow I recognize that feeling and it makes me turn to mush inside. I don't let on that I feel his sads for him, focusing instead on encouraging him, bolstering up his ability to be tough. "It's OK to be scared," I say. "But you still have to do this. You can do this." And then I go in my room and shed a few tears. I wonder, when he grows up, if he'll remember this time in his life and think I was a cold jerk. The first of many, many times I'm sure. If you ever read this HR, I promise I was only a jerk on the outside.

It's times like this a Massive Attack song swirls around in my brain. I stand in front of you, I'll take the force of your blow, protection. All I ever want to do is see this smile. 

But what kind of person would he be if he didn't get to go through the rainbow of human emotion? Even if I didn't do my part to get him started on real life, I can't control every aspect forever. I might as well be realistic about the things I can control and hope for the best of the rest. Oh, the things about parenting that cut you off at the knees.

Feel-In Part 1 - Job Edition

Work is making me hard. A hard person. I don't want to be a hard person. My ideal self is strong, but soft inside. In my non-work life I have been able to keep my gooey center, my heart is right up front, caution to the wind. But at work, even though I really do start the day with the best intentions of empathy and kindness, by six o'clock I have retracted into my turtle shell of jaded suspicion, seeing the worst in everyone first. I don't want to be that person, even if it's only for a few hours four days a week.  

 

It's not the job itself's fault, or even the people in it who make me crazy on a daily basis (not coworkers - they are solid gold). I'm aware that most things only have as much power to make you feel any particular way as you give them. But I can't seem to stop myself from giving up the power. After all these years of being burned time after time, there's only so much I can shove down. And I can't shake it off anymore, this need to make some kind of change, because I don't want to be that crabby old bitch who can't muster up any sympathy for people having the worst day of their lives every day.

I've been at this job for sixteen years as of last month. That is a long-ass time. I still enjoy the work itself. And my aforementioned coworkers, who are friends as well as colleagues. We are run by a volunteer Board of Directors that is full of amazing people who go to bat for us at every turn. The benefits are outstanding, I have so much autonomy, I feel great about what we do. Basically it's a dream job. But I'm worn down from it. It's a luxury dilemma, a first-world problem. But it doesn't make it any less of a problem.

At this point, I'm not necessarily looking for a new job. I don't even know what else I could be doing with my specific skill set. Even though Mike the saint has put his full support behind whatever I want to do, including him going back to work full time and me staying home, I don't think quitting is the best thing. Not for me, and not for my family. I do love being the breadwinner, and what other place would be so flexible about my hours?  So for the time being I need to focus on ways to control my response. A renewed commitment, every day. A mantra. I don't want to just go through the motions, I want to be engaged. I owe it to myself and the people we serve. It's just a matter of... how? How to harness that resolve and keep it? That's the challenge before me.

I don't mean to be so vague about what I do. If you don't know already, I'm easily google-able. Conversely, anyone I work with could easily find this space. That's why I  don't care to go into specifics. As it is I'm putting myelf out there by writing candidly about my feelings, but nothing I wrote in here is anything I wouldn't discuss with my bosses. They've been here longer than me, they get it.

In the end, I know everyone can't be happy about everything 100% of the time. Not even me. But that's no excuse for complacency. I don't know what's going to happen, I just need to work it out in writing from time to time. I've got to do something until my career as a b-girl takes off.

(Pictured: not me. In my dreams, maybe).

Saved by the Ball

Everything's gotten September-y in the world at large (Nairobi, my god) and the smaller world (like in my workplace, where we lost two kids in a week) and I'm ready to go dive under a quilt with a bowl of frosting for at least another week. I'm personally doing well, and I had a more amazing weekend than I could have hoped for, but it's an uneasy time right now and that's all I really want to say. I'm feeling a lot of big feelings, and lucky you might get to read about some of those on the morrow. To end on a positive note, this happened.

Beard Pass

I am not known for my love of a full beard. My husband has a goatee, and I think it's handsome on him, but on the whole, I feel that there's a time and a place for excessive facial hair. For the most part that's nowhere and on nobody but a very few dudes I know, Santa Claus, and most of the 2013 Red Sox. Here's a mighty impressive specimen (who I know for a fact is a superfox beneath that daunting gingery nest. But I love him because of the being-good-at-baseballing-thing too).

We got seats to tomorrow's game when they went on sale in the preseason, back when we had no idea that this team would become the hairy beast that is the 2013 dream team. We'd be excited to go to Fenway even if they were playing like they did last year, I mean, I've seen the Sox at home countless times, but it never stops being a real moment  when you step into the park and get that first glimpse of the green. In the case of tomorrow, though, it just so happens that we might be there when they clinch the playoffs. And that is really something special.

So go you beloved boys, and may your razors not see the light of day for at least a month.

You Think You're Mrs. Fall Lady 2013. Think Again.

Late September, and like clockwork, it begins-- the compiling of my fall to-do list (which you could write for me by now, but I have to write it anyway because, tradition!). This year's variations include:

-get a drastic new haircut (narrowed down to these two- the question being, bangs?)

or

-perform a seasonal clothing blitz (where did all my sweaters go? This year it's all sweaters and tights. Not just those two things together, just that those are two areas in which I find my wardrobe lacking. )

-restart my yoga practice in a studio and/or sign up for ballet classes (while experiencing the least extracurricular time and lowest motivation when it actually comes to working out, sure why not)

-drink red wine, like all the time

-eat/find recipes for Mike to make savory, slow-cooked foods

-plan weekend trips to all the places that are best when wearing all the sweaters and tights, including Mike's and my ancestral homes

-learn how to bake pies (10 years running, and nary a crust attempted)

-do all the pumpkin-y, apple-y, hayride-y, street festival-y, magical Halloween-y stuff with HR, as long as he's up for it.

All this to say, here I am, world, your white middle class female cliche. I can't help what I love, and I love all this pretty hard.

WRRRRrrrrrrrrr!

I saw my neurologist this morning, just a check-in appointment, and as I have not had a notable migraine in the last three months, I don't have to see her again until next spring so huzzah, huzzah. It's a truly gorgeous day here in New England, and nobody has to work tonight, and we're all alive so why not celebrate? Though it's not technically Life Day today, Mike postulated that we observe it anyway. Sounds good to me.

I'm not fluent in Shriiwook, but Happy Life Day, in all the languages.

Recovery Monday

As predicted, a swell weekend was had. HR was in his glory with his Auntie and uncles, and I got to have myself a lot of fun hanging out with everyone. We even fit in a few rounds of Boggle. Wild times, I know. It's just that I come from game-playing stock, and I feel like it's been forever since I've played anything, so an evening spent shaking my fist at lettered blocks that refuse to automatically arrange themselves into high-scoring words really hit the spot. (Not my actual game stash, but pretty close. No Monopoly though. Ever.)

Part of the reason my family was in town was to attend our cousin's baby's baptism on Sunday, and it was lovely- delicious food, good people, sweet babies. Then when HR and I returned home late in the afternoon and the company had taken their leave, we were totally wiped out. Fun takes its toll. Since these are the types of complaints I have in my life, you see why I mostly keep them to myself. This is in no way challenging the universe to send me real ones.

The Longest Little Month

Sorry to leave anyone in suspense: day one of preschool was a success. HR said that he cried once for me, but otherwise it was fun and he didn't have any problem going back today so I think we're all going to make it. Of course every night this week he's been coming into our bed in the middle of the night, but I can't fault him for that. This is probably the biggest change we've thrown at him to date, so it's got to manifest itself somehow. As long as we're all actually getting sleep I don't mind so much, anyway.

Right now I'm looking forward to a weekend filled with family and beautiful weather. I am done with this humidity, I'm that sick person who is absolutely psyched to have to put on a sweater. That's one of the things I truly hate about September (it's the most wretched month for myriad reasons), it's never really fall. Just a false harbinger. October, now that's where it's at. We're almost there, it's so tantalizingly close...

But back to the now, all my siblings will be in town this weekend and we're going to a party for my cousin's baby girl and it's going to be awesome. May it be accordingly awesome for you. Even if it is still September.

Lunch Packed Up, Boots Tied Tight

Today we dropped off our little boy at preschool. He's been at home with Mike since I went back to work (at three months) and since then has only been left in the care of family. So this was a pretty huge deal in our little family. We're excited for him, of course. It will be great for him to make friends and take another leap toward independence. Still, we worry. Not just about the great unknown of leaving him in a stranger's domain, but, you know, how is he coping? What's it going to be like when a couple of hours go by and he starts to miss his dad? What happens when he has to go to the potty and the teacher doesn't know how much help he needs getting onto the toilet and getting re-dressed?

He'll figure it out and it will be fine, is the answer. But it doesn't make the parental mushiness go away. I left him at the school this morning with a lump in my throat, but there were no tears from any of us. I'm still awaiting the day's report when he's retrieved this afternoon, but drop-off was almost too easy. HR was so excited to get into the room filled with strange toys that he couldn't get rid of us fast enough. And now that he'll have the experience of the first day behind him, the next time will be the true test. We'll take it as it comes. But for day one, so far so good.

For the moment I'm just letting a feeling of hopefulness and relief wash over me, while still keeping aware that this could pan out in any way. Which I guess is the feeling of being alive on any given day, but tailored to this new thing on this day.

To new things on new days!