Again, the nation is on vigil. What will happen to New Orleans?
I did not enjoy living in New Orleans. It would have been a horrible city in which to raise a family. I rejoiced when I moved away after almost three years there, in three different residences--one just off the Vieux Carrè, one uptown, and one off the Audubon Park.
But there are memories there. I was married there. I loved the music there. Jazz Fest. On Napoleon St. yelling for throws. Tchopitoulas. Mona's. Lola's. Jaquimo's. The natives who called you "Love" as if it were your first name. City Park. St. Charles. The Streetcar. Walks on the Riverfront. Saying you're a local every time someone comes up to you saying, "Betcha I can tell ya where ya got dem shoes!" Looking out over the levee and seeing the water level of the Mighty Mississippi higher than the roofs of the homes on either side of the levee. Laissez les bon temps rouler. Zydeco. Saying "He aksed me" instead of "asked me". The Spanish moss hanging from the old oaks, haunting Audubon Park. The invinceable belief that N'awlins is the City of the Saints and that it would never be actually destroyed...the storms come close but the Saints take care of the city. The Wedding Cake House on St. Charles. Carrolton and Claiborne--they intersect but I always would mix those two streets up. Ann Rice's house, and the goths that worship her. The cemetaries...
So much flooding back to me, tears, smiles, good and bad memories, so strong, yet again just as they did three years ago in the anticipation of Katrina. I have not been back since. I am not certain anyone is supposed to be there. I suppose I am not to decide that. I simply pray that those who must decide can learn to read the lessons of Mother Nature and decide wisely, in the best interest of all. For those I know who are natives and other friends who still reside there even following Katrina, my thoughts are with you all on this eve of yet another great storm.
domingo, 31 de agosto de 2008
sábado, 30 de agosto de 2008
my baby boy
...is no longer my baby.
He turns four years old on Sunday. Tomorrow.
This little cuddlebug at my side, my little protector, the little guy who cannot go to sleep without being wrapped in the embrace of his mama is the light of my life. Together with his sister, they complete my existence.
I could not imagine my life without them, and I thank my God each and every day for placing them in my charge, as their mother, their guide for Life.
They have matching dimples, only one, but hers is on her right cheek and his is on his left. Such beautiful, beautiful children, both inside and out.
Being the younger brother often places the Young Prince in an interesting position when it comes to manicures and pedicures, make-up application and dress-up games. I have a small, complementary collection of clear nail polish (in a green bottle as he loves green), chap stick and large kerchiefs--skirts for Princesita that moonlight as superhero capes for my little Superman.
Little Ponies and Barbies rendezvous daily with Power Rangers and Batman. My Princesita is a very patient teacher and my Young Prince basks in the attention that only best friends could mutually give.
He is now at the age that permits him to comprehend games and play well. The past few weeks have marked a huge growth for him, not only in the understanding of card games but also in the fun play, the good-natured jabbing and the learning to be a gracious winner and loser. My blogging time has been taken over by game and puzzle-filled engagement of his ripe mind, ready to learn and starting to play alone with his sister.
I am starting to see him become his own person--and I am so proud of him.
Tomorrow we will have a small party here, for close friends and their siblings. Messy fun, tye-dying t-shirts and munching down on a Spiderman-decorated ice cream cake will highlight the festivities.
Both he and his sister were so excited for tomorrow to come, neither could fall asleep easily tonight.
Happy Birthday, my darling little love. May you always be my baby boy.
He turns four years old on Sunday. Tomorrow.
This little cuddlebug at my side, my little protector, the little guy who cannot go to sleep without being wrapped in the embrace of his mama is the light of my life. Together with his sister, they complete my existence.
I could not imagine my life without them, and I thank my God each and every day for placing them in my charge, as their mother, their guide for Life.
They have matching dimples, only one, but hers is on her right cheek and his is on his left. Such beautiful, beautiful children, both inside and out.
Being the younger brother often places the Young Prince in an interesting position when it comes to manicures and pedicures, make-up application and dress-up games. I have a small, complementary collection of clear nail polish (in a green bottle as he loves green), chap stick and large kerchiefs--skirts for Princesita that moonlight as superhero capes for my little Superman.
Little Ponies and Barbies rendezvous daily with Power Rangers and Batman. My Princesita is a very patient teacher and my Young Prince basks in the attention that only best friends could mutually give.
He is now at the age that permits him to comprehend games and play well. The past few weeks have marked a huge growth for him, not only in the understanding of card games but also in the fun play, the good-natured jabbing and the learning to be a gracious winner and loser. My blogging time has been taken over by game and puzzle-filled engagement of his ripe mind, ready to learn and starting to play alone with his sister.
I am starting to see him become his own person--and I am so proud of him.
Tomorrow we will have a small party here, for close friends and their siblings. Messy fun, tye-dying t-shirts and munching down on a Spiderman-decorated ice cream cake will highlight the festivities.
Both he and his sister were so excited for tomorrow to come, neither could fall asleep easily tonight.
Happy Birthday, my darling little love. May you always be my baby boy.
viernes, 29 de agosto de 2008
rain
I once used Madonna's song "Rain" in ESL classes. That particular song used a lot of easy-to-comprehend visualization of the idea of love and emotions that surround love.
It was a favorite lesson of older students with life experience. Younger students with budding interests in learning to differentiate between love-lust-infatuation, hormonaly-driven attraction triangle also enjoyed learning new poetry to match their newfound sentiments.
We have not had rain in over a month here, until yesterday. I was mildly disappointed to see on the radar map that, by about noon yesterday, most of Fay's remnants had already passed us by, leaving behind what seemed to be mere droplets of the precious liquid our gardens and grasses are thirsting.
The sound of the rain pouring outside awoke me in the early morning hours this morning and, although it has been a gray, heavy day with a humid chill that does not allow your towels to dry from shower to next day's shower, my heart began to beat a little slower and my mind began to whirr at a slightly decreased speed...
...a piece of home. A piece of Oregon. A piece of who I am.
It felt good. And I have relaxed.
I love to feel the rain on my fingertips and on my scalp. I enjoy drenching my hair by walking in the rain but then avoid looking into mirrors as I hate how I look (yes, I am vain) with soaking wet hair. If I meet someone along the way, I smile--hoping that the sparkle in my eyes and my smile will shine like the sun through the heavy clouds and that my mop of hair will be ignored.
A little wind would be nice, as I thoroughly enjoy stormy weather, but just rain is acceptable. So pure...
For me, today, this has been a nice finale to the summer vacation. A cleansing, a preparation for new beginnings next week.
If you don't remember Madonna's song, or are too young (!) to know who she even is...here is a snippit. Enjoy the memories.
It was a favorite lesson of older students with life experience. Younger students with budding interests in learning to differentiate between love-lust-infatuation, hormonaly-driven attraction triangle also enjoyed learning new poetry to match their newfound sentiments.
We have not had rain in over a month here, until yesterday. I was mildly disappointed to see on the radar map that, by about noon yesterday, most of Fay's remnants had already passed us by, leaving behind what seemed to be mere droplets of the precious liquid our gardens and grasses are thirsting.
The sound of the rain pouring outside awoke me in the early morning hours this morning and, although it has been a gray, heavy day with a humid chill that does not allow your towels to dry from shower to next day's shower, my heart began to beat a little slower and my mind began to whirr at a slightly decreased speed...
...a piece of home. A piece of Oregon. A piece of who I am.
It felt good. And I have relaxed.
I love to feel the rain on my fingertips and on my scalp. I enjoy drenching my hair by walking in the rain but then avoid looking into mirrors as I hate how I look (yes, I am vain) with soaking wet hair. If I meet someone along the way, I smile--hoping that the sparkle in my eyes and my smile will shine like the sun through the heavy clouds and that my mop of hair will be ignored.
A little wind would be nice, as I thoroughly enjoy stormy weather, but just rain is acceptable. So pure...
For me, today, this has been a nice finale to the summer vacation. A cleansing, a preparation for new beginnings next week.
If you don't remember Madonna's song, or are too young (!) to know who she even is...here is a snippit. Enjoy the memories.
martes, 26 de agosto de 2008
life lessons from Wall-E
This movie made me cry, Wall-E.
A birthday gift for Young Prince from She-Ra Fairy Godmother and her clan, we all went smuggling sippy-cups filled with water and snackie-bags of M&Ms into the old movie theatre (yes, vinyl seats and NO CUP HOLDERS! Imagine that...they still exist), Mama Llama with her small canister of soy-free treats and settled over two rows of seats. We did buy popcorn (one large bag that we split into six little plastic canisters for each child...canisters we REUSE from our home supplies), and the lights were never turned off in our theatre, so I personally think She-Ra should have had a partial discount.
At the very least on the popcorn.
I am not even quite sure how to begin all I felt while watching this movie. For an animated "children's" summer flick, I found it extremely profound, evoking anger, resentment, sadness, idealistic desires to Change The World that I once upon a time felt when living in Ecuador, frustration and a deep empathy.
I could write on the varying degrees of symbolism, satire, social statements and the priceless personification of the loveable robots and their cucaracha friend. Equally easy would be to reflect upon what I already do to play my part as a global citizen and what more I can do to be better.
As I cannot simply let a movie with a moral just be...
I asked my children what they took from the movie. Paraphrasing La Princesita (6 3/4 years), she was most taken by the lazy people who were so fat that they could hardly even walk. They would talk on screens to people who sat right next to them on floating chairs that transported them from one place to another, sipping their soda pop, unaware of anything else that was going on around them. Their only realities were what was flashing on the TV screens in front of them...until Wall-E interrupted two of them, who then became aware of this radical situation and these two came to see the beauty of their surroundings and enjoy the actual physical presence (as opposed to the virtual personality) of each other.
She also mentioned that no exercise and bad eating is just not good for you.
The Young Prince's (almost 4) synopsis was that Wall-E was stuck cleaning up the mess that the people had made, but the people didn't want to clean up their mess so they left Earth to go make a mess somewhere else.
He also really like when "the white robot" and Wall-E were in love.
Twinkies, pop culture references, Mass Shopping Giants and technology were interwoven into the plot to bring to mind all that we do today to trash this Earth. I found it ironic that the B&L (play on BJs?) giant that had taken control of not only the minimal clean-up "effort" on Earth but had also created the outer space utopia upon which brainwashed humans could survive (not *live*, mind you, but merely survive, a distinct difference noted by the Captain of the spaceship) ended up being the same entity that had initially created Wall-E, who in turn opened the eyes of the ignorant humans, created allies among robots previously programmed to merely complete their tasks, and empowered the humans to return to Life...and to bring life back to Earth.
Perhaps this is a statement as to what some of these powerhouses can do now so as to stave off the inevitable.
My children, in the meantime, remain even more staunch proponents of cars that run on trash, not gasoline.
A birthday gift for Young Prince from She-Ra Fairy Godmother and her clan, we all went smuggling sippy-cups filled with water and snackie-bags of M&Ms into the old movie theatre (yes, vinyl seats and NO CUP HOLDERS! Imagine that...they still exist), Mama Llama with her small canister of soy-free treats and settled over two rows of seats. We did buy popcorn (one large bag that we split into six little plastic canisters for each child...canisters we REUSE from our home supplies), and the lights were never turned off in our theatre, so I personally think She-Ra should have had a partial discount.
At the very least on the popcorn.
I am not even quite sure how to begin all I felt while watching this movie. For an animated "children's" summer flick, I found it extremely profound, evoking anger, resentment, sadness, idealistic desires to Change The World that I once upon a time felt when living in Ecuador, frustration and a deep empathy.
I could write on the varying degrees of symbolism, satire, social statements and the priceless personification of the loveable robots and their cucaracha friend. Equally easy would be to reflect upon what I already do to play my part as a global citizen and what more I can do to be better.
As I cannot simply let a movie with a moral just be...
I asked my children what they took from the movie. Paraphrasing La Princesita (6 3/4 years), she was most taken by the lazy people who were so fat that they could hardly even walk. They would talk on screens to people who sat right next to them on floating chairs that transported them from one place to another, sipping their soda pop, unaware of anything else that was going on around them. Their only realities were what was flashing on the TV screens in front of them...until Wall-E interrupted two of them, who then became aware of this radical situation and these two came to see the beauty of their surroundings and enjoy the actual physical presence (as opposed to the virtual personality) of each other.
She also mentioned that no exercise and bad eating is just not good for you.
The Young Prince's (almost 4) synopsis was that Wall-E was stuck cleaning up the mess that the people had made, but the people didn't want to clean up their mess so they left Earth to go make a mess somewhere else.
He also really like when "the white robot" and Wall-E were in love.
Twinkies, pop culture references, Mass Shopping Giants and technology were interwoven into the plot to bring to mind all that we do today to trash this Earth. I found it ironic that the B&L (play on BJs?) giant that had taken control of not only the minimal clean-up "effort" on Earth but had also created the outer space utopia upon which brainwashed humans could survive (not *live*, mind you, but merely survive, a distinct difference noted by the Captain of the spaceship) ended up being the same entity that had initially created Wall-E, who in turn opened the eyes of the ignorant humans, created allies among robots previously programmed to merely complete their tasks, and empowered the humans to return to Life...and to bring life back to Earth.
Perhaps this is a statement as to what some of these powerhouses can do now so as to stave off the inevitable.
My children, in the meantime, remain even more staunch proponents of cars that run on trash, not gasoline.
other people's children
It is inevitable that, as children get older, their friends will come over to play.
I welcome their presence in this house. I love to hear my little monkeys at cooperative play, solving problems on their own without requiring a helicopter parent (which I consider myself very much not) monitoring and refereeing each moment of interaction. And I like to provide children with a "safe" and trustworthy place to hang, especially as the kids get older.
My poor old house has lately taken the brunt of playtime with friends, however. Now, I like to think that I do not maintain things at breaking point; if I see something in the home that needs to be fixed, I do try to repair, if I know how to, instead of leaving it to further degrade only to have to buy something new soon...
The kids' father is like that; don't lift a finger for upkeep, then spend tons to buy new. That is why I feel like this house will rot out from under me with him here, living in the basement. But that's another story.
In the past few playdates at my house, the venetian blinds in La Princesita's bedroom were pulled off the wall and the wand broken; the pull-chain on her ceiling fan light was pulled off; I saw children on the bed of the Young Prince's room ready to, as was described to me, "jump" to the ceiling fan pullchain to turn it on (and rip it out of the ceiling in the process??); the screen on the door that I installed on the back door pushed through, which is almost impossible to put back in. La Princesita and I had completed about 1/4 of a 500 piece puzzle on a table set up from the floor, out of the main traffic thoroughfare and our work was completely destroyed by a four-year old that I guess I assumed would, by that age, know better. A child's chair has been broken and my front step thrown up on (I hope my kids don't catch that).
I can't say my monitos are perfect. Heavens knows they are not. But I suppose I am trying to raise them with an idea of how to treat things--everything, not just living things--with respect, and most especially things that are not theirs and that are in someone else's home. Doors need not be slammed to be closed. Help may be requested instead of pulling something off the wall and breaking it. I realize also that accidents do happen. I feel, however, that I have far exceeded my quota this year just in the past month.
And if my child feels sick, playdates are cancelled.
To the benefit of almost all these children, they have been completely honest in coming up to me and telling me exactly what happened. They are being raised learning the integrity of honesty and are ready to face consequences--which would not happen in my home, unless a window was broken perhaps, or a ceiling fan actually pulled OUT of the ceiling. And in such cases, obviously, the consequence would be the danger posed to the child.
I have heard stories of older children going onto the computers of my friends without asking prior permission. There is, in a general terms, a certain lack of common sense manners being taught at home. I, as an adult, would never even dream of going onto even my closest friends' computers without prior permission. That is a violation of personal space, and my children will not even turn on a television in someone else's home unless given permission, as in my home, to do so. And I have explained to them why the computers in the library are public and those in private homes are personal. I have had to turn off the television that playmates have felt at liberty to turn on, explaining that they are here to play and not watch the boob tube. True, I may be stricter regarding television-watching or computer-using rules than many other parents, but I also have two children who can figure out how to entertain themselves without pacing the house saying how "boring" it is here and how much s/he wants to go home.
Then go. Please. May I call your mom to have her come get you?
I am starting to wonder if I must have either completely different standards regarding the activity levels and the things I require my children to do to be gentle to this old house, or if my house is otherwise in a state of disrepair such that the same level of activity in their own homes does not result in creating the havoc that is wrecked in my home. Do I have so few activities to offer children to do that it is "boring" here? New friends seem to feel that way; old friends who know my home never seem to have problems finding things to do.
I remember rarely having people during my childhood inside my home to play with. I would play inside other people's houses, but I never played host. Now that the weather is cooler and the bug population will start to decline, the children can play outside safely, but in dry Southern Oregon we played outside all summer without worries of being bug-sprayed, ticks, West Nile and the myriad of other worries we have to face in this humid summer environment. When reflecting, however, I can't help believing that my mother did not want the same things happening to her home that I have had to deal with this summer, just for wanting to do things differently than she ever did.
Does this mean that I will change my ways? No, it is my house and the responsibility of those visiting my house to respect my way of doing things. Cleaning up is nice but not a huge deal. I just won't want my home more broken than it already is. I suppose I just need to better anticipate needs/wants/desires and make it crystal clear what is and is not permitted, at risk of sounding strict.
Although I am certain that there will be something else broken that I had never foreseen, much like the venetian blind fiasco, just to keep me on my toes.
Unpredictability is a good thing, right?
Oh...p.s....I feel in a bad mood today for no particular reason, thus my rants seem to flow much more freely. Perhaps with a bit of coffee, maybe some chocolate, my outlook on the day will brighten.
I welcome their presence in this house. I love to hear my little monkeys at cooperative play, solving problems on their own without requiring a helicopter parent (which I consider myself very much not) monitoring and refereeing each moment of interaction. And I like to provide children with a "safe" and trustworthy place to hang, especially as the kids get older.
My poor old house has lately taken the brunt of playtime with friends, however. Now, I like to think that I do not maintain things at breaking point; if I see something in the home that needs to be fixed, I do try to repair, if I know how to, instead of leaving it to further degrade only to have to buy something new soon...
The kids' father is like that; don't lift a finger for upkeep, then spend tons to buy new. That is why I feel like this house will rot out from under me with him here, living in the basement. But that's another story.
In the past few playdates at my house, the venetian blinds in La Princesita's bedroom were pulled off the wall and the wand broken; the pull-chain on her ceiling fan light was pulled off; I saw children on the bed of the Young Prince's room ready to, as was described to me, "jump" to the ceiling fan pullchain to turn it on (and rip it out of the ceiling in the process??); the screen on the door that I installed on the back door pushed through, which is almost impossible to put back in. La Princesita and I had completed about 1/4 of a 500 piece puzzle on a table set up from the floor, out of the main traffic thoroughfare and our work was completely destroyed by a four-year old that I guess I assumed would, by that age, know better. A child's chair has been broken and my front step thrown up on (I hope my kids don't catch that).
I can't say my monitos are perfect. Heavens knows they are not. But I suppose I am trying to raise them with an idea of how to treat things--everything, not just living things--with respect, and most especially things that are not theirs and that are in someone else's home. Doors need not be slammed to be closed. Help may be requested instead of pulling something off the wall and breaking it. I realize also that accidents do happen. I feel, however, that I have far exceeded my quota this year just in the past month.
And if my child feels sick, playdates are cancelled.
To the benefit of almost all these children, they have been completely honest in coming up to me and telling me exactly what happened. They are being raised learning the integrity of honesty and are ready to face consequences--which would not happen in my home, unless a window was broken perhaps, or a ceiling fan actually pulled OUT of the ceiling. And in such cases, obviously, the consequence would be the danger posed to the child.
I have heard stories of older children going onto the computers of my friends without asking prior permission. There is, in a general terms, a certain lack of common sense manners being taught at home. I, as an adult, would never even dream of going onto even my closest friends' computers without prior permission. That is a violation of personal space, and my children will not even turn on a television in someone else's home unless given permission, as in my home, to do so. And I have explained to them why the computers in the library are public and those in private homes are personal. I have had to turn off the television that playmates have felt at liberty to turn on, explaining that they are here to play and not watch the boob tube. True, I may be stricter regarding television-watching or computer-using rules than many other parents, but I also have two children who can figure out how to entertain themselves without pacing the house saying how "boring" it is here and how much s/he wants to go home.
Then go. Please. May I call your mom to have her come get you?
I am starting to wonder if I must have either completely different standards regarding the activity levels and the things I require my children to do to be gentle to this old house, or if my house is otherwise in a state of disrepair such that the same level of activity in their own homes does not result in creating the havoc that is wrecked in my home. Do I have so few activities to offer children to do that it is "boring" here? New friends seem to feel that way; old friends who know my home never seem to have problems finding things to do.
I remember rarely having people during my childhood inside my home to play with. I would play inside other people's houses, but I never played host. Now that the weather is cooler and the bug population will start to decline, the children can play outside safely, but in dry Southern Oregon we played outside all summer without worries of being bug-sprayed, ticks, West Nile and the myriad of other worries we have to face in this humid summer environment. When reflecting, however, I can't help believing that my mother did not want the same things happening to her home that I have had to deal with this summer, just for wanting to do things differently than she ever did.
Does this mean that I will change my ways? No, it is my house and the responsibility of those visiting my house to respect my way of doing things. Cleaning up is nice but not a huge deal. I just won't want my home more broken than it already is. I suppose I just need to better anticipate needs/wants/desires and make it crystal clear what is and is not permitted, at risk of sounding strict.
Although I am certain that there will be something else broken that I had never foreseen, much like the venetian blind fiasco, just to keep me on my toes.
Unpredictability is a good thing, right?
Oh...p.s....I feel in a bad mood today for no particular reason, thus my rants seem to flow much more freely. Perhaps with a bit of coffee, maybe some chocolate, my outlook on the day will brighten.
sábado, 23 de agosto de 2008
five years ago
Today is Tiggy's birthday.
This fat, furry funball formed part of the family on Saturday, 23 August 2003. A month before, our other kitty cat had been hit by two cars in the middle of our street and we had to put him to sleep.
We went to the pet store where a pet rescue service was adopting out cats and dogs. We saw Tiggy and knew in that instant that He was to be Our New Cat.
I felt a funny feeling that day; I was between twelve and thirteen weeks pregnant and all of a sudden I felt a moisture where I didn't feel I should. I excused myself to go to the car to check on myself.
My panties were soaked with blood.
I panicked and told my husband that I needed to go to doc-in-a-box. So he dropped me off at urgent care, and called She-ra to come and be with me there as he took La Princesita and our new kitty home.
I was checked, told that my cervix was closed and that it could just be a freak thing. I was shaking uncontrollably and scared. Told to go to ER if I started passing clots.
Tigre was a wonderful distraction for most of the afternoon, but then I started to bleed more, so we got Princesita to a friend's house and I got to the hospital. I was a week away from my first midwife appointment.
It was then confirmed that I was miscarrying. I was given instructions to return to the hospital at 7 a.m. on Sunday the 24th for a D&C, but to come earlier if...
I labored through the night. A sleepless, horribly painful night--the worst pain I have ever known as I was laboring for no joyful reason--and Tigre came out of hiding and laid with me, comforting me all night long. He knew I needed him. That was our first bond.
By the time I got to the hospital I was bleeding heavily and, I later learned, was dilated fully. The doctor was not yet there, and I was told to wait in the waiting room. I paced when I could stand, and fell to the floor with blood flowing down my legs when I could no longer stand. I already had made it through one completely pain-medication free labor with my daughter in 21 hours of labor--but this was different. I was losing the baby. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom, and was thus subjected to the most humillating experience of my life, on my knees in the hospital waiting room, leaving a trail of blood, watching a laboring mother pacing and looking at me with such pity...
until finally somebody was called with a wheelchair and got me into prep. I was in a room with at least 10 other people, and they were dead silent as they listened to me cry and mourn over and over again, "My baby...my baby..."
Until they finally came and took me, and drugged me as I begged them to just take my pain away and make this nightmare end.
I awoke, tummy deflated, threw up and it was over.
Called my mother. This was the anniversary of her own mother's death, so of course it was all about her. Refused to fly out because she didn't want to be a part of a "community event." Blamed me for the miscarriage..."it's your fault being so far away from family, it's because of where you live."
My friends...my true friends...came to me and helped me. And I started teaching two days later as classes at the uni. began anew.
Five years have passed, and I still cannot tell that story without sobbing.
A year and one week to the day later, my baby boy was born.
And such is the circle of Life, heartbreak, tears, joy.
This fat, furry funball formed part of the family on Saturday, 23 August 2003. A month before, our other kitty cat had been hit by two cars in the middle of our street and we had to put him to sleep.
We went to the pet store where a pet rescue service was adopting out cats and dogs. We saw Tiggy and knew in that instant that He was to be Our New Cat.
I felt a funny feeling that day; I was between twelve and thirteen weeks pregnant and all of a sudden I felt a moisture where I didn't feel I should. I excused myself to go to the car to check on myself.
My panties were soaked with blood.
I panicked and told my husband that I needed to go to doc-in-a-box. So he dropped me off at urgent care, and called She-ra to come and be with me there as he took La Princesita and our new kitty home.
I was checked, told that my cervix was closed and that it could just be a freak thing. I was shaking uncontrollably and scared. Told to go to ER if I started passing clots.
Tigre was a wonderful distraction for most of the afternoon, but then I started to bleed more, so we got Princesita to a friend's house and I got to the hospital. I was a week away from my first midwife appointment.
It was then confirmed that I was miscarrying. I was given instructions to return to the hospital at 7 a.m. on Sunday the 24th for a D&C, but to come earlier if...
I labored through the night. A sleepless, horribly painful night--the worst pain I have ever known as I was laboring for no joyful reason--and Tigre came out of hiding and laid with me, comforting me all night long. He knew I needed him. That was our first bond.
By the time I got to the hospital I was bleeding heavily and, I later learned, was dilated fully. The doctor was not yet there, and I was told to wait in the waiting room. I paced when I could stand, and fell to the floor with blood flowing down my legs when I could no longer stand. I already had made it through one completely pain-medication free labor with my daughter in 21 hours of labor--but this was different. I was losing the baby. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom, and was thus subjected to the most humillating experience of my life, on my knees in the hospital waiting room, leaving a trail of blood, watching a laboring mother pacing and looking at me with such pity...
until finally somebody was called with a wheelchair and got me into prep. I was in a room with at least 10 other people, and they were dead silent as they listened to me cry and mourn over and over again, "My baby...my baby..."
Until they finally came and took me, and drugged me as I begged them to just take my pain away and make this nightmare end.
I awoke, tummy deflated, threw up and it was over.
Called my mother. This was the anniversary of her own mother's death, so of course it was all about her. Refused to fly out because she didn't want to be a part of a "community event." Blamed me for the miscarriage..."it's your fault being so far away from family, it's because of where you live."
My friends...my true friends...came to me and helped me. And I started teaching two days later as classes at the uni. began anew.
Five years have passed, and I still cannot tell that story without sobbing.
A year and one week to the day later, my baby boy was born.
And such is the circle of Life, heartbreak, tears, joy.
viernes, 22 de agosto de 2008
hot Friday night date
La Princesita and the Young Prince were supposed to have a night, to start out a weekend, with their father. However, the Young Prince threw such a tizzy about wanting time alone with me--and granted, he does not get a lot of alone time with his Mama Llama--so I took him out as my date for the night.
To Friday Night Live. The last concert of the season. Drop Dead Sexy was headlining, an 80s party band. I saw them last year; they have so much fun while they perform, they are creative and they are good. So I was not going to miss them this year.
It was a perfect night. No humidity, lovely sunset, great patch of grass upon which I spread my Peruvian wool blanket and my Young Prince at my side. I got myself a glass of wine and the two of us dinner, and we sat and ate. The opening band was okay, but was an opener. There were three men sitting next to me in their chairs with young girls. Two were in their 50s, one perhaps mid-40s. I'm a people-watcher, and it's also a safety thing for me, to always be well aware of who is around me. Anyhow, the children kept coming over to me so I got to talking to one of the men a bit.
As it became darker, the Young Prince became sleepier and, as Drop Dead Sexy came on we only were able to dance 2 songs together when he begged me to hold him and he fell deep asleep on my shoulder as the band rocked the entire audience.
I sat myself down, cradling my son in my arms when the one man I had been talking to came over to my blanket with a glass of wine in hand.
Dude.
So he squats down by me, but then starts to complain of his knee and I offer him to sit on my blanket; there was plenty of room. But I thought, if his general age (although I suppose I am The Target Age for the age 50+ male set while I am 36, that ain't what I would be looking for IF I WERE LOOKING--which I am sooooooo not doing anyway) and physique (I would hypothetically require someone in my life who will care for and respect his body...if he can't, how could he possibly respect mine?) weren't enough, strike one. Why? Because I am demanding and I require very good physical condition, in almost every aspect of my relationship with my partner.
Take that any way you want.
Bad knees *can be* a bad sign. Must take these clues in context, however; an athlete with bad knees is a bit different than an overweight, gray-haired 55 year old (maybe I'm overestimating the age, but that's also not good if I can't estimate clearly). But his "baby sister" was there--and she is 41.
We had a nice chat, and he assisted me in folding my blanket while I gathered the rest of my goods while holding Young Prince, still zonked over my left shoulder like a sack of potatoes in a red sweatshirt.
He gave me his card, almost apologetically as my hands were full. I said that perhaps next year we'll see each other at another concert.
"Let's not make it that long."
Duuuuuude....Smoooooooth. Yikes.
I smiled, glad I had an excuse to leave and suddenly extremely happy I had not, in fact, indulged in a night out at the concert by myself.
I drove home feeling a huge balloon of disappointment rising in my chest. Is this all I would have to look forward to? Mama Llama holding Sleeping Son--desperation choice? I am, evidently, so past my prime. How would I ever get back into the dating game again when I'd be ready to do so? Or ought I plan to live the rest of my life alone? Perhaps I'll be happier that way. I really couldn't feel more alone than I have felt while married. And as a 36 year old (now...even older as time goes on...maybe that's another reason why He is stalling so on the residential separation), I would never be a very hot catch for anyone under, say, 60 years old.
I suppose there are a few things I don't understand.
1. Is wearing a ring--or not, in my case--an assumption of status? Will women who wear a ring be left alone? Do the same standards go for men? Should I just wear my ring, even charged with all that wearing a ring implies, so that I am not bothered if I ever do go out? I like to be social, I just really want friendships now. And a gay Latino dance parter. Is that too much to ask?
2. This man went and got me a glass of wine. I obviously could not go as I had a 4 year old zonked out in my arms, but did not ask him to go. I offered to pay for it, as I could have used another glass of wine, anyway. But he refused. Ought I have insisted so as to not have any obligation? Not that it was bad talking to him--it's just that it was evident that he wanted to continue this, on my terms, at a future date and I have absolutely zilcho-desire to do so.
All I want to do is have fun. I will not deny that I hunger...and that is natural for any human. But I will not use someone to satisfy my hunger. That just runs contrary to my grain. And like we talked about before regarding FWB, I need to attach myself emotionally to truly satisfy my appetite.
To Friday Night Live. The last concert of the season. Drop Dead Sexy was headlining, an 80s party band. I saw them last year; they have so much fun while they perform, they are creative and they are good. So I was not going to miss them this year.
It was a perfect night. No humidity, lovely sunset, great patch of grass upon which I spread my Peruvian wool blanket and my Young Prince at my side. I got myself a glass of wine and the two of us dinner, and we sat and ate. The opening band was okay, but was an opener. There were three men sitting next to me in their chairs with young girls. Two were in their 50s, one perhaps mid-40s. I'm a people-watcher, and it's also a safety thing for me, to always be well aware of who is around me. Anyhow, the children kept coming over to me so I got to talking to one of the men a bit.
As it became darker, the Young Prince became sleepier and, as Drop Dead Sexy came on we only were able to dance 2 songs together when he begged me to hold him and he fell deep asleep on my shoulder as the band rocked the entire audience.
I sat myself down, cradling my son in my arms when the one man I had been talking to came over to my blanket with a glass of wine in hand.
Dude.
So he squats down by me, but then starts to complain of his knee and I offer him to sit on my blanket; there was plenty of room. But I thought, if his general age (although I suppose I am The Target Age for the age 50+ male set while I am 36, that ain't what I would be looking for IF I WERE LOOKING--which I am sooooooo not doing anyway) and physique (I would hypothetically require someone in my life who will care for and respect his body...if he can't, how could he possibly respect mine?) weren't enough, strike one. Why? Because I am demanding and I require very good physical condition, in almost every aspect of my relationship with my partner.
Take that any way you want.
Bad knees *can be* a bad sign. Must take these clues in context, however; an athlete with bad knees is a bit different than an overweight, gray-haired 55 year old (maybe I'm overestimating the age, but that's also not good if I can't estimate clearly). But his "baby sister" was there--and she is 41.
We had a nice chat, and he assisted me in folding my blanket while I gathered the rest of my goods while holding Young Prince, still zonked over my left shoulder like a sack of potatoes in a red sweatshirt.
He gave me his card, almost apologetically as my hands were full. I said that perhaps next year we'll see each other at another concert.
"Let's not make it that long."
Duuuuuude....Smoooooooth. Yikes.
I smiled, glad I had an excuse to leave and suddenly extremely happy I had not, in fact, indulged in a night out at the concert by myself.
I drove home feeling a huge balloon of disappointment rising in my chest. Is this all I would have to look forward to? Mama Llama holding Sleeping Son--desperation choice? I am, evidently, so past my prime. How would I ever get back into the dating game again when I'd be ready to do so? Or ought I plan to live the rest of my life alone? Perhaps I'll be happier that way. I really couldn't feel more alone than I have felt while married. And as a 36 year old (now...even older as time goes on...maybe that's another reason why He is stalling so on the residential separation), I would never be a very hot catch for anyone under, say, 60 years old.
I suppose there are a few things I don't understand.
1. Is wearing a ring--or not, in my case--an assumption of status? Will women who wear a ring be left alone? Do the same standards go for men? Should I just wear my ring, even charged with all that wearing a ring implies, so that I am not bothered if I ever do go out? I like to be social, I just really want friendships now. And a gay Latino dance parter. Is that too much to ask?
2. This man went and got me a glass of wine. I obviously could not go as I had a 4 year old zonked out in my arms, but did not ask him to go. I offered to pay for it, as I could have used another glass of wine, anyway. But he refused. Ought I have insisted so as to not have any obligation? Not that it was bad talking to him--it's just that it was evident that he wanted to continue this, on my terms, at a future date and I have absolutely zilcho-desire to do so.
All I want to do is have fun. I will not deny that I hunger...and that is natural for any human. But I will not use someone to satisfy my hunger. That just runs contrary to my grain. And like we talked about before regarding FWB, I need to attach myself emotionally to truly satisfy my appetite.
being blasted from the past
As I have mentioned a couple of times this week, Facebook has completely hooked me.
After a 3 a.m. chat with an old orchestra buddy (she played cello, I violin and we formed a quartet with two others for part of our high school career) the other night, she mentioned trying to dig up some of 'those old photos' from The Past...
Well... I instead decided to beat her to it.
And what fun it has been. I have not had an excuse to go back and look at school pictures in a very long time. I took out a handful I could find with a number of others in them, scanned them in, and then set myself to trying to tag faces and names. Much harder than it looks, especially when there were identical twins in your class. I hated the fact that I went to the same schools and never moved once in 18 years when I was young; now I am thankful as there is a bond between those of us who grew up together that time has not permitted to break.
As I sit in She-ra's dining room, reminiscing and giggling over memories evoked by these pictures, a chat window popped up. Rob. Dude, we went to Kindergarten together! We ran in separate circles back in school, but we were classmates. All the way up to graduation. You can't take that away. Anyhow, he remembers me as the one who beat him up at the bus stop in the 4th grade.
I told him that he must be mistaken; I'm too much of a wimp to have ever beaten anyone up!
We were in the middle of the loveliest reminiscence when, click!, came another chat window. J and I went to Ecuador together back in 1992. We had separate circles in college but respected each other's identities and have actually had more contact now that we are older. However, it's been a good year since we've even emailed (both with young children, time zones, career changes, etc.) and she popped in. So I juggled two different conversations with two different worlds colliding on one computer screen, then managed to keep it up while having to pick bees off my daughter and She-ra's daughter who had walked into a nest of some sort. Yikes.
Fortunately all the action calmed down and I was able to return to task at hand. Overnight there were comments made and lots of blanks filled in on names and faces I just could not remember. It's a group effort. Thanks to technology working in our favor, it is easy to bridge the geographical gap existing between all of us, come together and remember the most basic connections that we share, that make us who we are.
My heart feels light and my existence seems a bit more complete. And that is so important.
After a 3 a.m. chat with an old orchestra buddy (she played cello, I violin and we formed a quartet with two others for part of our high school career) the other night, she mentioned trying to dig up some of 'those old photos' from The Past...
Well... I instead decided to beat her to it.
And what fun it has been. I have not had an excuse to go back and look at school pictures in a very long time. I took out a handful I could find with a number of others in them, scanned them in, and then set myself to trying to tag faces and names. Much harder than it looks, especially when there were identical twins in your class. I hated the fact that I went to the same schools and never moved once in 18 years when I was young; now I am thankful as there is a bond between those of us who grew up together that time has not permitted to break.
As I sit in She-ra's dining room, reminiscing and giggling over memories evoked by these pictures, a chat window popped up. Rob. Dude, we went to Kindergarten together! We ran in separate circles back in school, but we were classmates. All the way up to graduation. You can't take that away. Anyhow, he remembers me as the one who beat him up at the bus stop in the 4th grade.
I told him that he must be mistaken; I'm too much of a wimp to have ever beaten anyone up!
We were in the middle of the loveliest reminiscence when, click!, came another chat window. J and I went to Ecuador together back in 1992. We had separate circles in college but respected each other's identities and have actually had more contact now that we are older. However, it's been a good year since we've even emailed (both with young children, time zones, career changes, etc.) and she popped in. So I juggled two different conversations with two different worlds colliding on one computer screen, then managed to keep it up while having to pick bees off my daughter and She-ra's daughter who had walked into a nest of some sort. Yikes.
Fortunately all the action calmed down and I was able to return to task at hand. Overnight there were comments made and lots of blanks filled in on names and faces I just could not remember. It's a group effort. Thanks to technology working in our favor, it is easy to bridge the geographical gap existing between all of us, come together and remember the most basic connections that we share, that make us who we are.
My heart feels light and my existence seems a bit more complete. And that is so important.
jueves, 21 de agosto de 2008
a-b-c...tagged
I echo OC in saying that I have not had the pleasure of doing a meme in quite some time. As it appears this particular meme does not require too much thought or brain power (3rd day running on this particular headache), I think I can muster.
A. Attached or single?
Attached.
B. Best friend?
Not as close as I wish you were-I wish you were here with me. This separate continent-thing does not work for me.
C. Cake or pie?
Cake. Make mine Chocolate.
D. Day of choice?
Thursday--I love anticipating the Friday and the good that usually occurs. Plus the memories of Thursday night partying warms my heart sometimes.
E. Essential item?
Internet access/computer
F. Favorite color?
Black. Purple. As long as it is deep, anything but orange or yellow.
G. Gummy bears or worm?
Gimme the worm (THAT from my tequila days).
H. Hometown?
Land of the Black Tornado and the Panthers.
I. Indulgence?
my yearly trip abroad
J. January or July?
July-I love the 4th, the firecrackers, the storms and the light.
K. Kids?
La Princesita (6 3/4) and Young Prince (4 on the 31st!)
L. Life isn’t complete without?
My Kids
M. Marriage date?
May 21 1999
N. Number of brothers & sisters?
One sister by blood, a sorority full of sisters in university and all those I love like brothers or sisters now in my life.
O. Oranges or apples?
Fuji apples
P. Phobias?
Having my face/eyes covered so that my breathing and eyesight is interrupted from normal operation. I also absolutely hate the feeling of anything touching the front of my neck, except for lips gently kissing where I love being kissed.
Q. Quotes?
"May you live all the days of your life." --Jonathan Swift
R. Reasons to smile?
My children, my friends, the butterflies in my garden, my flowers, my vegetables, the change of the seasons--so many, too many to mention.
S. Season of choice?
Spring
T. Tag seven peeps!
Seven?? I might have to think on that. I think anyone can do this if they feel up to it.
U. Unknown fact about me?
I believe in supernatural occurances, I am superstitious, and I believe that evil can be a great force but that good can always overcome evil if/when properly channeled.
V. Vegetable?
I force myself to eat beans and peas in soups, but love all other veggies.
W. Worst habits?
Interrupting. Not listening well (see, querido, I know my faults).
X. X-ray or ultrasound?
Ultrasound, the times I've had them I got to see my babies...but preferably nothing at all.
Y. Your favorite food?
Lasagna. Preferably Mom's.
Z. Zodiac sign?
Taurus. And stubbornly proud of it.
*---*
A. Attached or single?
Attached.
B. Best friend?
Not as close as I wish you were-I wish you were here with me. This separate continent-thing does not work for me.
C. Cake or pie?
Cake. Make mine Chocolate.
D. Day of choice?
Thursday--I love anticipating the Friday and the good that usually occurs. Plus the memories of Thursday night partying warms my heart sometimes.
E. Essential item?
Internet access/computer
F. Favorite color?
Black. Purple. As long as it is deep, anything but orange or yellow.
G. Gummy bears or worm?
Gimme the worm (THAT from my tequila days).
H. Hometown?
Land of the Black Tornado and the Panthers.
I. Indulgence?
my yearly trip abroad
J. January or July?
July-I love the 4th, the firecrackers, the storms and the light.
K. Kids?
La Princesita (6 3/4) and Young Prince (4 on the 31st!)
L. Life isn’t complete without?
My Kids
M. Marriage date?
May 21 1999
N. Number of brothers & sisters?
One sister by blood, a sorority full of sisters in university and all those I love like brothers or sisters now in my life.
O. Oranges or apples?
Fuji apples
P. Phobias?
Having my face/eyes covered so that my breathing and eyesight is interrupted from normal operation. I also absolutely hate the feeling of anything touching the front of my neck, except for lips gently kissing where I love being kissed.
Q. Quotes?
"May you live all the days of your life." --Jonathan Swift
R. Reasons to smile?
My children, my friends, the butterflies in my garden, my flowers, my vegetables, the change of the seasons--so many, too many to mention.
S. Season of choice?
Spring
T. Tag seven peeps!
Seven?? I might have to think on that. I think anyone can do this if they feel up to it.
U. Unknown fact about me?
I believe in supernatural occurances, I am superstitious, and I believe that evil can be a great force but that good can always overcome evil if/when properly channeled.
V. Vegetable?
I force myself to eat beans and peas in soups, but love all other veggies.
W. Worst habits?
Interrupting. Not listening well (see, querido, I know my faults).
X. X-ray or ultrasound?
Ultrasound, the times I've had them I got to see my babies...but preferably nothing at all.
Y. Your favorite food?
Lasagna. Preferably Mom's.
Z. Zodiac sign?
Taurus. And stubbornly proud of it.
martes, 19 de agosto de 2008
brutal honesty
He emails today with information regarding a co-op living arrangement. Costs would come to about $800-900/month, all inclusive. He would have his own room, but share the living space with other individuals and families. Children are permitted to stay. Location is a hip, Berkeley-esque area of this particular metropolitan area, although crime is notably high there as well.
Hence begin the myriad of feelings in which I am currently swimming. Bear with me; I know how I sound. I just need to get it all out.
1. The thought that had me almost to tears in the consideration of this possibility is the fact that this would be seriously detrimental to the time he would get to have with his children. Overnights during the week would be impossible as he would be incapable (unless he develops some fantastic form of time travel) of getting from there to this area for school drop-offs. I could not permit and would not want him to have the children every single weekend; not only do I deserve a weekend or two a month, he should also be allowed "down time". And the children need his presence.
2. I know that living in a co-op situation is a wonderful thing for many people. I cannot see how that would work necessarily for him, however. The last time he lived with many different people who had their own quarters and common areas was as the commanding officer on a ship; he had peons to do his dirty work for him and didn't have to contribute to the common good. In a co-op all responsibilities are shared and divided equally. He would, this way, have meals ready for him most of the time, so that would be a good thing for him. But he would also have to reciprocate, not only in the kitchen but also in the cleaning and upkeep, etc. Perhaps that would be good for him. Perhaps that would draw him out of living in his own little room. I would think that it would be very hard to go from a house on 1/3 acre to merely having a room, however, that isn't even an efficiency apartment.
2.5. Breaking it down, it is still beyond our means, and he believes we should wait to do this until the children are both in full-time school and I can pursue full-time pay and my own benefits. I think that, with sacrifices, it would be a step--maybe not a permanent step but a first step--and will define if and how this is to work.
3. I then start to think, erroneously, that all will be okay here and that we can just continue on as is. We can get along fine as long as we don't overdo it on the time spent in the same room. I find it much easier to be nice, even sit and talk or smile and be friendly now that I know we are on the same page. I want something better for him. I know I am hurting him. But in thinking this I forget about how much I have been hurt, how much I have been forgotten and merely pushed aside, and I know that we will never again have a life as a "couple" again; we will never return to intimacy. Is this fair to the children, in the end, to see two people, however civilly living together but not practicing any degree of intimacy? Is this healthy? This is not the image of marriage and cohabitation with another I want to give them. But I want them to have their father as equally as they have me, when they can.
So then I start to fall back into my old cycle of, "well, I can just put on the happy face and pretend that we are just one happy family and try to make that work for the good of the children--it's what he wants, too, and I'm the only one who loses out that way, so really everyone else will gain if I just sacrifice what I want, so why should I be so selfish?"
And then I remember how much trying to live the false life for so long knocked me into such a horrible funk that I don't want to revisit that dark place again. I need to be true to me. But why at such a price? Where is the line?
So that's where I am, folks. Ping-ponging worse than any politician could ever be accused of, trying to figure out what is best for everyone. I have always factored in, perhaps too strongly, the lives-feelings-issues-etc. of others in my decisions, unable to do anything just for me.
But I'm a mother. "Just for me" is no longer allowed.
Hence begin the myriad of feelings in which I am currently swimming. Bear with me; I know how I sound. I just need to get it all out.
1. The thought that had me almost to tears in the consideration of this possibility is the fact that this would be seriously detrimental to the time he would get to have with his children. Overnights during the week would be impossible as he would be incapable (unless he develops some fantastic form of time travel) of getting from there to this area for school drop-offs. I could not permit and would not want him to have the children every single weekend; not only do I deserve a weekend or two a month, he should also be allowed "down time". And the children need his presence.
2. I know that living in a co-op situation is a wonderful thing for many people. I cannot see how that would work necessarily for him, however. The last time he lived with many different people who had their own quarters and common areas was as the commanding officer on a ship; he had peons to do his dirty work for him and didn't have to contribute to the common good. In a co-op all responsibilities are shared and divided equally. He would, this way, have meals ready for him most of the time, so that would be a good thing for him. But he would also have to reciprocate, not only in the kitchen but also in the cleaning and upkeep, etc. Perhaps that would be good for him. Perhaps that would draw him out of living in his own little room. I would think that it would be very hard to go from a house on 1/3 acre to merely having a room, however, that isn't even an efficiency apartment.
2.5. Breaking it down, it is still beyond our means, and he believes we should wait to do this until the children are both in full-time school and I can pursue full-time pay and my own benefits. I think that, with sacrifices, it would be a step--maybe not a permanent step but a first step--and will define if and how this is to work.
3. I then start to think, erroneously, that all will be okay here and that we can just continue on as is. We can get along fine as long as we don't overdo it on the time spent in the same room. I find it much easier to be nice, even sit and talk or smile and be friendly now that I know we are on the same page. I want something better for him. I know I am hurting him. But in thinking this I forget about how much I have been hurt, how much I have been forgotten and merely pushed aside, and I know that we will never again have a life as a "couple" again; we will never return to intimacy. Is this fair to the children, in the end, to see two people, however civilly living together but not practicing any degree of intimacy? Is this healthy? This is not the image of marriage and cohabitation with another I want to give them. But I want them to have their father as equally as they have me, when they can.
So then I start to fall back into my old cycle of, "well, I can just put on the happy face and pretend that we are just one happy family and try to make that work for the good of the children--it's what he wants, too, and I'm the only one who loses out that way, so really everyone else will gain if I just sacrifice what I want, so why should I be so selfish?"
And then I remember how much trying to live the false life for so long knocked me into such a horrible funk that I don't want to revisit that dark place again. I need to be true to me. But why at such a price? Where is the line?
So that's where I am, folks. Ping-ponging worse than any politician could ever be accused of, trying to figure out what is best for everyone. I have always factored in, perhaps too strongly, the lives-feelings-issues-etc. of others in my decisions, unable to do anything just for me.
But I'm a mother. "Just for me" is no longer allowed.
domingo, 17 de agosto de 2008
friends with benefits?
A girlfriend and I sat around on a lazy Friday afternoon, having opened up some dark chocolate, Neufchatel cheese and a bottle of Cabernet; and we decided to start solving the world's problems.
The root, of which, is--of course, as always--sex. Or the lack thereof.
"On Oprah a few days ago a sexologist was on. I should have called you. She was talking about the newest thing for people in their 40s, 50s, 60s..."
-Yeah, I hear even the retirement homes are hopping now!
(snicker) "Uh-huh. She said that having a "friend with benefits" is proving to be a healthy release for lots of people. She even has one herself."
-Great!
Thinking, of course: Where do I sign up?
"I don't know, though. How do they get around the emotions? How don't they get attached?"
-Evidently it's possible.
And I took another long sip of Cab.
*----*
I had long believed that my developing a relationship like this with another, on a purely-sexual, no-deep-emotional-attachment level could have saved my marriage, just to have the human need of physical contact and sexual energy fulfilled. This is, in our society, unacceptable and considered infidelity if the marriage is not outright defined an open marriage. Thinking it through past the initial excitement of suggestion, however, I realize a great part of sex can be the emotional vínculo, the bond and trust between the two individuals that can, ideally, carry into other aspects of the relationship. Is it possible to simply have sex as "fun"...and have it remain fun? Or is "love" required to make it fun? I guess the answer depends on the individual. However, those issues have played a great part of why my marriage has not, in fact, worked out: my basic intimately-physical and intimately-emotional needs have never been met. There is an absolute lack of chemistry in the bedroom and lack of desire to work to learn how to make it work.
I suppose it is merely frustrating to me to realize that my prime is rapidly passing me by while I cohabitate with an individual that does not even know where certain key pleasure-filled nerve endings exist on a female--and I have given up trying to teach someone who insists "I know what I'm doing." And ending up in tears after every single coupling due to needs not having been met, him leaving to shower off immediately as if my essence were too 'dirty' for him, I came to realize that I deserve to feel better than that. I deserve to have had an orgasm in my marriage. Even one would have been nice. I deserve not to have to do all the work all the time.
I would rather abstain than feel so frustrated, so this is where that decision of over two years ago leaves me.
Don't ask what I was thinking when we initally got together ten years ago. You'll dope-slap me for having been so naive.
The question:
Could you have a bonding and a friendship with a sex-friend (that's what this is called in Japan; yes, of course there are names for this world-wide, cross-cultural phenomenon) that neither individual would want to extend to economics, raising children, medical issues, fixing the home, and the other menial duties required of a live-in mate? Is it indeed possible, now that we are in our 30s, 40s--mid-life arenas with other areas of our lives being fulfilled--to draw a line...and remain on one side of that line without possessiveness, jealousy and all those other evils setting in?
Here's the link to the short article write-up of the Oprah broadcast that featured this topic.
The root, of which, is--of course, as always--sex. Or the lack thereof.
"On Oprah a few days ago a sexologist was on. I should have called you. She was talking about the newest thing for people in their 40s, 50s, 60s..."
-Yeah, I hear even the retirement homes are hopping now!
(snicker) "Uh-huh. She said that having a "friend with benefits" is proving to be a healthy release for lots of people. She even has one herself."
-Great!
Thinking, of course: Where do I sign up?
"I don't know, though. How do they get around the emotions? How don't they get attached?"
-Evidently it's possible.
And I took another long sip of Cab.
*----*
I had long believed that my developing a relationship like this with another, on a purely-sexual, no-deep-emotional-attachment level could have saved my marriage, just to have the human need of physical contact and sexual energy fulfilled. This is, in our society, unacceptable and considered infidelity if the marriage is not outright defined an open marriage. Thinking it through past the initial excitement of suggestion, however, I realize a great part of sex can be the emotional vínculo, the bond and trust between the two individuals that can, ideally, carry into other aspects of the relationship. Is it possible to simply have sex as "fun"...and have it remain fun? Or is "love" required to make it fun? I guess the answer depends on the individual. However, those issues have played a great part of why my marriage has not, in fact, worked out: my basic intimately-physical and intimately-emotional needs have never been met. There is an absolute lack of chemistry in the bedroom and lack of desire to work to learn how to make it work.
I suppose it is merely frustrating to me to realize that my prime is rapidly passing me by while I cohabitate with an individual that does not even know where certain key pleasure-filled nerve endings exist on a female--and I have given up trying to teach someone who insists "I know what I'm doing." And ending up in tears after every single coupling due to needs not having been met, him leaving to shower off immediately as if my essence were too 'dirty' for him, I came to realize that I deserve to feel better than that. I deserve to have had an orgasm in my marriage. Even one would have been nice. I deserve not to have to do all the work all the time.
I would rather abstain than feel so frustrated, so this is where that decision of over two years ago leaves me.
Don't ask what I was thinking when we initally got together ten years ago. You'll dope-slap me for having been so naive.
The question:
Could you have a bonding and a friendship with a sex-friend (that's what this is called in Japan; yes, of course there are names for this world-wide, cross-cultural phenomenon) that neither individual would want to extend to economics, raising children, medical issues, fixing the home, and the other menial duties required of a live-in mate? Is it indeed possible, now that we are in our 30s, 40s--mid-life arenas with other areas of our lives being fulfilled--to draw a line...and remain on one side of that line without possessiveness, jealousy and all those other evils setting in?
Here's the link to the short article write-up of the Oprah broadcast that featured this topic.
sábado, 16 de agosto de 2008
dreaming big
La Princesita looked at me very seriously.
"Mama, I want to be a scientist."
-Uh-huh. You can do whatever you want to do.
"But I also want to be a teacher."
-That shouldn't be a problem.
"But I also want to be one of those people who do things on a stage."
-An actress? Sure. You can do that.
I was starting to believe that this was going to be one of THOSE conversations. Of the *endless* kind.
"But I also want to be one of those people who talk on the TV in front of a camera."
-Okay.
"Mama, can I do all of that?"
She looked worried. Stressed. A six and a half-year old ought not look so stressed.
Okay, time to actually pay attention and apply myself.
-Sure, dear. Let's see...you can be a marine biologist who teaches students ...and you videotape your lessons so that others can watch them on the TV or the computer so they can learn from you.
The stress in her beautiful face broke into a big smile.
"Thanks, Mama. I knew you could figure it out. That is exactly what I want to be!"
May I always have the answers for her.
May she always dream big.
"Mama, I want to be a scientist."
-Uh-huh. You can do whatever you want to do.
"But I also want to be a teacher."
-That shouldn't be a problem.
"But I also want to be one of those people who do things on a stage."
-An actress? Sure. You can do that.
I was starting to believe that this was going to be one of THOSE conversations. Of the *endless* kind.
"But I also want to be one of those people who talk on the TV in front of a camera."
-Okay.
"Mama, can I do all of that?"
She looked worried. Stressed. A six and a half-year old ought not look so stressed.
Okay, time to actually pay attention and apply myself.
-Sure, dear. Let's see...you can be a marine biologist who teaches students ...and you videotape your lessons so that others can watch them on the TV or the computer so they can learn from you.
The stress in her beautiful face broke into a big smile.
"Thanks, Mama. I knew you could figure it out. That is exactly what I want to be!"
May I always have the answers for her.
May she always dream big.
viernes, 15 de agosto de 2008
facebook addiction
I have become a Facebook Junkie this week.
It is easy to become lured into the lineage of ex-classmates, ex-boyfriends, ex-roommates, ex-stand partners (I was an orchestra nerd--violinist, to be exact) and a plethora of other exes that dominate this attempt to reconnect after 5-10-20 years of not having spoken, emailed or seen each other.
At the same time, the connections made are extremely gratifying.
Some work in toy stores. Others with movies in Hollywood. Everyone is finding their way, following what they have discovered to be their bliss, reveling in their children/pets/homes/travels/etc. and are equally enthused about this sudden resurgence in interest in what "the popular kids" or "the geeks" or "the nerds"...what have you...have become in Life. The barriers have dissolved; it is almost like the 20 year reunion occuring virtually, with pictures and a few video clips to boot.
Better than the 20th, however, is the fact that I can see my friends' other connections, if they so permit in their privacy settings. The diverse paths that the Friends List take tell a lot about each person, where they have been, whose lives they have impacted and how each have been influenced to become the individual we all now are.
Some are single, some searching, some married, and my relationship status is listed as "complicated." It is a part of being true to myself. Why should I have anything to hide or be ashamed of? I feel need to admit I am human, daring to take a step further than the virtual reality of Facebook-- a class reunion weekend, whatever--would necessarily permit to be seen.
I loaded pictures and have found great joy in the photos of others' travels, children, fun times. I am enjoying this experience...yet not at all missing my schooling years. I am at peace with who I have become, and these people all played their part in creating the Me that I am now.
And I am learning that, evidently, I am not the only one yearning to feel a connection to that from whence I came. That reassurance, in itself, is comforting.
It is easy to become lured into the lineage of ex-classmates, ex-boyfriends, ex-roommates, ex-stand partners (I was an orchestra nerd--violinist, to be exact) and a plethora of other exes that dominate this attempt to reconnect after 5-10-20 years of not having spoken, emailed or seen each other.
At the same time, the connections made are extremely gratifying.
Some work in toy stores. Others with movies in Hollywood. Everyone is finding their way, following what they have discovered to be their bliss, reveling in their children/pets/homes/travels/etc. and are equally enthused about this sudden resurgence in interest in what "the popular kids" or "the geeks" or "the nerds"...what have you...have become in Life. The barriers have dissolved; it is almost like the 20 year reunion occuring virtually, with pictures and a few video clips to boot.
Better than the 20th, however, is the fact that I can see my friends' other connections, if they so permit in their privacy settings. The diverse paths that the Friends List take tell a lot about each person, where they have been, whose lives they have impacted and how each have been influenced to become the individual we all now are.
Some are single, some searching, some married, and my relationship status is listed as "complicated." It is a part of being true to myself. Why should I have anything to hide or be ashamed of? I feel need to admit I am human, daring to take a step further than the virtual reality of Facebook-- a class reunion weekend, whatever--would necessarily permit to be seen.
I loaded pictures and have found great joy in the photos of others' travels, children, fun times. I am enjoying this experience...yet not at all missing my schooling years. I am at peace with who I have become, and these people all played their part in creating the Me that I am now.
And I am learning that, evidently, I am not the only one yearning to feel a connection to that from whence I came. That reassurance, in itself, is comforting.
jueves, 14 de agosto de 2008
words escape me
Thunder rolls overhead, the western sky black as night while the sun still shines over my little piece of existence. We have played hard, ran errands, completed tasks and are now ready to fill our tummies with fresh samples from the garden. The cherry tomatoes flood our mouths with a bittersweet juice as our teeth pierce their skins, and the peppers crunch delightfully, enjoying their hummus bath previous to being devoured.
I have worked hard, focused hard, trying to make this first draft as perfect as possible and that has left me with little energies left to create; instead I would rather spend my relaxing moments aimlessly pointing my mouse in random directions and clicking on whatever strikes my fancy. I have made some purchases, reconnected with very old friends and continue to read all blogs to which I normally subscribe while taking moments to follow some links here and there and discover the magic in others' self-expression as well.
Life is okay right now. Nothing special. My soy-free chocolate should arrive in the mail any day now, which will up Life's points a bit. The darkness has now overtaken the light over my house; I can smell the rain coming. The thunder comes closer, almost a constant roll. It calms me today; maybe I can let the rain wash my indifference away.
I have worked hard, focused hard, trying to make this first draft as perfect as possible and that has left me with little energies left to create; instead I would rather spend my relaxing moments aimlessly pointing my mouse in random directions and clicking on whatever strikes my fancy. I have made some purchases, reconnected with very old friends and continue to read all blogs to which I normally subscribe while taking moments to follow some links here and there and discover the magic in others' self-expression as well.
Life is okay right now. Nothing special. My soy-free chocolate should arrive in the mail any day now, which will up Life's points a bit. The darkness has now overtaken the light over my house; I can smell the rain coming. The thunder comes closer, almost a constant roll. It calms me today; maybe I can let the rain wash my indifference away.
lunes, 11 de agosto de 2008
teeth
La Princesita finally pulled Tooth #3 out last night.
This is the first tooth that the Tooth --um-- Llama has been able to capture, as Tooth #1 and Tooth #2 were lost. Literally.
The Tooth --um-- Llama Demands Results! (She's a trite type-A.) I guess the third time was the charm.
Tooth #4 isn't--well, shouldn't be--too far behind. La Princesita prefers to let Nature take its course, however, and the teeth are hanging by a single excrutiatingly-loose thread before she will finally take matters into her own hands.
All this thinking about our dental health got me thinking about teeth, and all kinds of interesting facts have come to mind:
1. Did you know that snails have over 25,000 teeth? And they are on the snail's tongue!
2. Elephants have six sets of teeth.
3. In México, the Tooth Fairy is the Tooth Mouse. A bit more verosimil...is there such word in English? That's what I get for blogging in English while watching Univisión. hmmm (thinking) ah!...A bit more...plausible...yep, that's the word...if you ask me. I would imagine a mouse in my house before a fairy in my lair-y. Yeah. Anyhow, I wonder if, in some countries, there is a Tooth Cucaracha. The Tooth Ratoncito ...sometimes called el Ratoncito Pérez (there's a story, I'll tell if asked!)...does leave a little treasure as well.
4. The words for dental floss in Spanish, hilo dental, is what those smooth latinos call a G-string. Don't ask how I know that.
Okay, this post is going places I did not intend. Don't you forget to brush and, um, floss tonight!
ADDENDUM: Tooth 4 came out last night. This Tooth-llama is going broke!
This is the first tooth that the Tooth --um-- Llama has been able to capture, as Tooth #1 and Tooth #2 were lost. Literally.
The Tooth --um-- Llama Demands Results! (She's a trite type-A.) I guess the third time was the charm.
Tooth #4 isn't--well, shouldn't be--too far behind. La Princesita prefers to let Nature take its course, however, and the teeth are hanging by a single excrutiatingly-loose thread before she will finally take matters into her own hands.
All this thinking about our dental health got me thinking about teeth, and all kinds of interesting facts have come to mind:
1. Did you know that snails have over 25,000 teeth? And they are on the snail's tongue!
2. Elephants have six sets of teeth.
3. In México, the Tooth Fairy is the Tooth Mouse. A bit more verosimil...is there such word in English? That's what I get for blogging in English while watching Univisión. hmmm (thinking) ah!...A bit more...plausible...yep, that's the word...if you ask me. I would imagine a mouse in my house before a fairy in my lair-y. Yeah. Anyhow, I wonder if, in some countries, there is a Tooth Cucaracha. The Tooth Ratoncito ...sometimes called el Ratoncito Pérez (there's a story, I'll tell if asked!)...does leave a little treasure as well.
4. The words for dental floss in Spanish, hilo dental, is what those smooth latinos call a G-string. Don't ask how I know that.
Okay, this post is going places I did not intend. Don't you forget to brush and, um, floss tonight!
ADDENDUM: Tooth 4 came out last night. This Tooth-llama is going broke!
domingo, 10 de agosto de 2008
blessed
In the Mid-Atlantic, we are currently being blessed with weather reminiscent of early fall. This is unheard of in August, when we usually are drenched with sweat from the high humidity and temperatures that soar our heat indices to 100-110º that create code red air quality days.
This means that, instead of being a "good llama" and sitting at my computer to finish what I had put out to finish this month, I have been outside, reveling in the weather, playing hooky and refreshing my soul.
I finally got to the gym. I rode my bike down, did my weights, made my 3 mile run on the elliptical in 20:55...finally just under a 7 minute mile without the impact that my knee can no longer take.
La Princesita and I took a nice bicycle ride yesterday, home from a local Asian festival that occurs this time each year. Normally it is too hot and humid to really enjoy such outdoor fetes, but this year is different. On our bike trek home we saw two groundhogs, a gorgeous fawn with spots, a toad with orange spots, and numerous butterflies: cloudless sulphers, black and tiger swallowtails and cabbage were the majority. We talked. We had a great time. She is such a joy to spend time with. Although my rear end is killing me..Bony Butt needs a cushioned bike seat.
Later yesterday evening she and I went out to Boost the Local Economy. As The Young Prince's birthday is at the end of the month, she wanted to find his birthday present. The Bat-mobile was not inexpensive--but the BatMask ended up being free on some sort of unadvertised promotion. We also found Mama Llama a couple new pairs of super-comfy-but-still-stylin' shoes because my hooves have really started to hurt; Mama Llama must be gettin' old. A new baseball mit for Mama Llama, as the monitos are starting to enjoy playing catch; particularly La Princesita has an arm that is a killer if you try to catch her throws bare-handed.
From my garden I harvested a load of tomatoes, two big ones and lots of cherry tomatoes, then packed some up for our next-door neighbors. A red pepper, more yellow squash, a pumpkin and two small orange pumpkin gourds. A little early, but they are ripe and ready to come off, and I do not want any little critters getting to them and destroying my little garden. I have two more pumpkins, at least, out there turning orange. All these pumpkins were "oops" from the mulch I spread from my kitchen compost last year. The tomatoes are all from seed from tomato plants the year before. Not too shabby!
I would actually love to dedicate today to the garden. Maybe I can run down to the Depot and check out their rock to see if I can finish the mini-retaining wall around the rest of the left side of the driveway. I can probably get there and back before anyone wakes up and beat the rush!
So there you have it: my excuses for not posting. I am unsure as to how long this too-good-to-be-true weather can actually last, so along with everyone else in the region I am trying to take full advantage of it!
This means that, instead of being a "good llama" and sitting at my computer to finish what I had put out to finish this month, I have been outside, reveling in the weather, playing hooky and refreshing my soul.
I finally got to the gym. I rode my bike down, did my weights, made my 3 mile run on the elliptical in 20:55...finally just under a 7 minute mile without the impact that my knee can no longer take.
La Princesita and I took a nice bicycle ride yesterday, home from a local Asian festival that occurs this time each year. Normally it is too hot and humid to really enjoy such outdoor fetes, but this year is different. On our bike trek home we saw two groundhogs, a gorgeous fawn with spots, a toad with orange spots, and numerous butterflies: cloudless sulphers, black and tiger swallowtails and cabbage were the majority. We talked. We had a great time. She is such a joy to spend time with. Although my rear end is killing me..Bony Butt needs a cushioned bike seat.
Later yesterday evening she and I went out to Boost the Local Economy. As The Young Prince's birthday is at the end of the month, she wanted to find his birthday present. The Bat-mobile was not inexpensive--but the BatMask ended up being free on some sort of unadvertised promotion. We also found Mama Llama a couple new pairs of super-comfy-but-still-stylin' shoes because my hooves have really started to hurt; Mama Llama must be gettin' old. A new baseball mit for Mama Llama, as the monitos are starting to enjoy playing catch; particularly La Princesita has an arm that is a killer if you try to catch her throws bare-handed.
From my garden I harvested a load of tomatoes, two big ones and lots of cherry tomatoes, then packed some up for our next-door neighbors. A red pepper, more yellow squash, a pumpkin and two small orange pumpkin gourds. A little early, but they are ripe and ready to come off, and I do not want any little critters getting to them and destroying my little garden. I have two more pumpkins, at least, out there turning orange. All these pumpkins were "oops" from the mulch I spread from my kitchen compost last year. The tomatoes are all from seed from tomato plants the year before. Not too shabby!
I would actually love to dedicate today to the garden. Maybe I can run down to the Depot and check out their rock to see if I can finish the mini-retaining wall around the rest of the left side of the driveway. I can probably get there and back before anyone wakes up and beat the rush!
So there you have it: my excuses for not posting. I am unsure as to how long this too-good-to-be-true weather can actually last, so along with everyone else in the region I am trying to take full advantage of it!
miércoles, 6 de agosto de 2008
hot-n-steamy sex scene
Yeah! Did that grab your attention?
So it did mine, as Millie and Alejandro are finally making IT happen in a dreamlike beach bungalow with only the night sky as their witness on the only Latin telenovela I currently watch.
Then the Young Prince appears, face in my face:
"Mommy, what is the Boogey-monster?"
--It's the monster that lives in your nose.--I try to move my eye contact greedily around the big round head that just presented itself between me and the only sex in my life right now.
Lips devouring lips, arms embracing, both perfectly dressed in white linen that flutters like flags of surrender in the breeze of the deserted isle.
"What does he eat?"
-Who?
"The Boogey-monster."
-Your finger.
"What if I use a Kleenex?"
-Boogey-monsters don't like Kleenex.
Tiki-torches shed flickering light over the lovers as they embrace, Millie over Alejandro, as they profess their undying love to one another.
"So if they don't like Kleenex, what else to they eat?" He moves his head again between me and my steamy sex scene. I am starting to get impatient, hearing less and less of what he is saying.
-Um...they eat fingernails.
"And what do they drink?"
Dude, kid. --Booga juice.
It was the only thing that came to mind.
Morning came. Dawn on the beach after a night of what supposedly was passionate, deeply penetrating and emotion-ridden, "finally they're doing it!" sex.
And I missed it. All for a deep conversation, that could not (of course) wait, about boogas.
Gotta love inquisitive kids.
So it did mine, as Millie and Alejandro are finally making IT happen in a dreamlike beach bungalow with only the night sky as their witness on the only Latin telenovela I currently watch.
Then the Young Prince appears, face in my face:
"Mommy, what is the Boogey-monster?"
--It's the monster that lives in your nose.--I try to move my eye contact greedily around the big round head that just presented itself between me and the only sex in my life right now.
Lips devouring lips, arms embracing, both perfectly dressed in white linen that flutters like flags of surrender in the breeze of the deserted isle.
"What does he eat?"
-Who?
"The Boogey-monster."
-Your finger.
"What if I use a Kleenex?"
-Boogey-monsters don't like Kleenex.
Tiki-torches shed flickering light over the lovers as they embrace, Millie over Alejandro, as they profess their undying love to one another.
"So if they don't like Kleenex, what else to they eat?" He moves his head again between me and my steamy sex scene. I am starting to get impatient, hearing less and less of what he is saying.
-Um...they eat fingernails.
"And what do they drink?"
Dude, kid. --Booga juice.
It was the only thing that came to mind.
Morning came. Dawn on the beach after a night of what supposedly was passionate, deeply penetrating and emotion-ridden, "finally they're doing it!" sex.
And I missed it. All for a deep conversation, that could not (of course) wait, about boogas.
Gotta love inquisitive kids.
yes, even Llamas like diamonds!
I bow my furry head and humbly accept from Citizen of the World:
To further bestow this honor:
I seek solace in peaceful places. I find Kay's made for weather a destination that, over the years I have read her, grants me a sense that all can be well in this topsy-turvy Life. Kay, much like Citizen, graces her poetic manner of expression with photographs that reflect the beauty of her life in New Zealand.
It is a crying shame that llamas are not native to that island nation.
To further bestow this honor:I seek solace in peaceful places. I find Kay's made for weather a destination that, over the years I have read her, grants me a sense that all can be well in this topsy-turvy Life. Kay, much like Citizen, graces her poetic manner of expression with photographs that reflect the beauty of her life in New Zealand.
It is a crying shame that llamas are not native to that island nation.
martes, 5 de agosto de 2008
Facebook vs. ???
Hardly a week goes by lately that I don't receive an inbox message asking me to "confirm friendship" or to "link up" or the other wide variety of verbage that the wide world of social networking sites employ. I admit to having a Linked In profile, as I personally found that particular site extremely professional and polished.
I can't say that has brought me any new business, however. Craigs List has done much better for me there.
Classmates, Facebook, My Space, Linked In--is there a huge difference between all of these sites? Do people actually list themselves absolutely everywhere and spend grotesquely wasteful amounts of time uploading photos, filling out click-and-select menus to answer questions about everything from their political affiliation to whether they prefer Folger's or Starbucks, and skimming all the names of their high school graduating class to see if their ex is listed and what s/he is doing --or, even better, if pictures are posted?
Not that I am at all guilty of any or all of the above...
Is the purpose of these sites, at least for the professional, over-30 set of us out here, simply that of a facilitator: to not allow us to feel so alone in what has become a distant and impersonal world? So many of us move away from our roots to follow an education or a paycheck, the luckier ones perhaps to pursue a dream. When our loved ones (namely our elders, but also our siblings or friends' family members) leave us, or word arrives that a classmate or former teacher has died, does this strike a mortality chord deep within us at this age, when we have matured past the immortality and idealism of our youth, and create in us an almost desperate need to reconnect with those ties that were so key in creating who we are today?
Do you participate in the online social networking scene (not talking matchmaking or dating here)?
For what purpose?
Have you felt fulfilled in your quest?
I can't say that has brought me any new business, however. Craigs List has done much better for me there.
Classmates, Facebook, My Space, Linked In--is there a huge difference between all of these sites? Do people actually list themselves absolutely everywhere and spend grotesquely wasteful amounts of time uploading photos, filling out click-and-select menus to answer questions about everything from their political affiliation to whether they prefer Folger's or Starbucks, and skimming all the names of their high school graduating class to see if their ex is listed and what s/he is doing --or, even better, if pictures are posted?
Not that I am at all guilty of any or all of the above...
Is the purpose of these sites, at least for the professional, over-30 set of us out here, simply that of a facilitator: to not allow us to feel so alone in what has become a distant and impersonal world? So many of us move away from our roots to follow an education or a paycheck, the luckier ones perhaps to pursue a dream. When our loved ones (namely our elders, but also our siblings or friends' family members) leave us, or word arrives that a classmate or former teacher has died, does this strike a mortality chord deep within us at this age, when we have matured past the immortality and idealism of our youth, and create in us an almost desperate need to reconnect with those ties that were so key in creating who we are today?
Do you participate in the online social networking scene (not talking matchmaking or dating here)?
For what purpose?
Have you felt fulfilled in your quest?
lunes, 4 de agosto de 2008
I'm only a PG?
This is funny. Although I used hell four times, pain twice and hurt (only?!) once, the Rater must not have reached the page that I talked about vibrators, body piercings and the lack of sex in my life.
Hmmm...or maybe it was precisely for that reason that I was only rated PG?!
Thanks to Citizen of the World for this one.
Oh, and if you want backlinks... (a-hem) you may contact me.
domingo, 3 de agosto de 2008
I don't really know how..
So we talked. As he looked at me with the "HUH?" look when I asked him tonight if he was taking the kids tomorrow as his day, I told him this is not working.
Of course, in the flow of the rather one-sided conversation we had, which included me telling him that my mother offered to sell me her house but that I don't feel that is fair to him or to the kids, we still cannot come to the conclusion to separate residences because, frankly, neither of us can afford to do so where we live. We just don't have the resources. So I said that we need to lay some ground rules, with an end focus on being separate residences. He agreed.
I said that, when he does not have responsibility of the children, that he may come and go as he pleases without "checking in" with me; in the case I were to need to contact him in an emergency, I have his cell number. Likewise, I said, I expect the same respect. I told him I want to be as liberal as possible regarding allowing him time with the children, that I don't want to be regarded as the "gatekeeper." That's not healthy for any of us. However, I can't have him expecting to have the kids at a moment's notice without a bit of previous notice. Thanks to considerations expressed over at Dad's House, I have made sure he is on every email list regarding children's schools and activities. I told him I cannot be held responsible for remembering every single detail, then held at fault if I forget something. He and I need to communicate regarding PTA, sports, and other events, which he would like to attend and which I would--and that I would be flexible if his work won't permit something in which he had previously expressed interest. Conversely, I told him that I respect his need to NOT have the children every waking minute he is not at work, and that we need to communicate regarding "off" time as well. We all need down/alone time--including me--and I need him to express to me, weekly, when he plans to take his down time vs. when he wants to have the children.
While living under the same roof, this is hard. I told him I don't feel this is good for the kids because they can't perceive well the separation we are trying to impose. But I told him that little things need to change to help this in their minds: for example, when he has them, that he is in charge of fulfilling their needs, that I am simply "not accessible". For a time, perhaps, I need to leave the house while he has his "days" with them if they are at home. But we ought to ensure that there is no confusion in their minds as to who is taking care of them that day--and maybe we need to tell them explicitly each day so that they know.
I told him I have no desire to ban him from activities that I do with the kids. If I'm coaching softball, he can certainly come to watch La Princesita play. He needs to be as involved as possible in their lives, whether or not I am involved in any given activity. I need to work on being more civil and less evasive. We need to sit down once a week and write down on the calendar who is with the kids when. Period. Like business. And consider it good practice and working toward two separate families.
So that is the gist of tonight's conversation, perhaps the most we have spoken in a good six months. I have a pain in my chest--must be stress. It is stressful having to always be the one to talk. I told him that he needs to tell me when he has something to arrange with me, and we can go to the dining room or kitchen ("neutral" areas) and talk about it. I could use a shot of something strong about now.
I also recommended the book (another Dad's House plug!) "Mom's House, Dad's House" to him for reading. I am reading it now, taking it little by little and letting ideas digest--it's not the kind of reading you can simply devour in a day like a novel. I think that being on somewhat of the same page will benefit us both and the children the most.
Most importantly, I told him I am willing to work to do whatever to make this as easy on all of us as possible. Will it be easy? Hell, no. Do I think I can make this work? Hopefully, it won't be all "me" but a "we" that will make this arrangement work for now...and better than before. I don't know, but at least it is out in the open that I think we need to separate residences as soon as financially possible.
Of course, in the flow of the rather one-sided conversation we had, which included me telling him that my mother offered to sell me her house but that I don't feel that is fair to him or to the kids, we still cannot come to the conclusion to separate residences because, frankly, neither of us can afford to do so where we live. We just don't have the resources. So I said that we need to lay some ground rules, with an end focus on being separate residences. He agreed.
I said that, when he does not have responsibility of the children, that he may come and go as he pleases without "checking in" with me; in the case I were to need to contact him in an emergency, I have his cell number. Likewise, I said, I expect the same respect. I told him I want to be as liberal as possible regarding allowing him time with the children, that I don't want to be regarded as the "gatekeeper." That's not healthy for any of us. However, I can't have him expecting to have the kids at a moment's notice without a bit of previous notice. Thanks to considerations expressed over at Dad's House, I have made sure he is on every email list regarding children's schools and activities. I told him I cannot be held responsible for remembering every single detail, then held at fault if I forget something. He and I need to communicate regarding PTA, sports, and other events, which he would like to attend and which I would--and that I would be flexible if his work won't permit something in which he had previously expressed interest. Conversely, I told him that I respect his need to NOT have the children every waking minute he is not at work, and that we need to communicate regarding "off" time as well. We all need down/alone time--including me--and I need him to express to me, weekly, when he plans to take his down time vs. when he wants to have the children.
While living under the same roof, this is hard. I told him I don't feel this is good for the kids because they can't perceive well the separation we are trying to impose. But I told him that little things need to change to help this in their minds: for example, when he has them, that he is in charge of fulfilling their needs, that I am simply "not accessible". For a time, perhaps, I need to leave the house while he has his "days" with them if they are at home. But we ought to ensure that there is no confusion in their minds as to who is taking care of them that day--and maybe we need to tell them explicitly each day so that they know.
I told him I have no desire to ban him from activities that I do with the kids. If I'm coaching softball, he can certainly come to watch La Princesita play. He needs to be as involved as possible in their lives, whether or not I am involved in any given activity. I need to work on being more civil and less evasive. We need to sit down once a week and write down on the calendar who is with the kids when. Period. Like business. And consider it good practice and working toward two separate families.
So that is the gist of tonight's conversation, perhaps the most we have spoken in a good six months. I have a pain in my chest--must be stress. It is stressful having to always be the one to talk. I told him that he needs to tell me when he has something to arrange with me, and we can go to the dining room or kitchen ("neutral" areas) and talk about it. I could use a shot of something strong about now.
I also recommended the book (another Dad's House plug!) "Mom's House, Dad's House" to him for reading. I am reading it now, taking it little by little and letting ideas digest--it's not the kind of reading you can simply devour in a day like a novel. I think that being on somewhat of the same page will benefit us both and the children the most.
Most importantly, I told him I am willing to work to do whatever to make this as easy on all of us as possible. Will it be easy? Hell, no. Do I think I can make this work? Hopefully, it won't be all "me" but a "we" that will make this arrangement work for now...and better than before. I don't know, but at least it is out in the open that I think we need to separate residences as soon as financially possible.
sweet slumber
And Saturday I slept.
Ahhhhh! Finally!
The world is a sweeter place when not seen through sleep-deprived eyes. Hope is visible, panic is down and clarity abounds.
The courage is not yet with me. I wish I could talk to my children's father and get the ball rolling. But I would rather practice avoidance right now. That isn't healthier, but it sure is easier.
Today the monitos and I spent six hours at the local 4-H fair and then, upon returning home I finished washing the sheets, making the beds and mowed our front and back lawns (the house is on just under 1/3 acre, and on a slope, so mowing is a rather big job). I should get some of those little goats we saw out at the fair today to come live with us during the summer; that would keep my lawn well-tended.
Tomorrow I am leaving for the day and not looking back. I will take my laptop so that I can work, but outside the house or I will end up being stuck doing all the meals for everybody--including him--that I should not have to do on my "not" custody time. We had decided last year on a split-time "practice" custody that always ends up leaving me with the kids when he is supposed to have them. If I don't just leave the house without looking back, that will happen again as he will not stand up for his time with them. That is just the way he is; not meant to be criticism but rather a mere observation. I want them to have time with him; both he and they need and deserve it.
It is obvious that they are all waiting for me to put food on the table tonight, so I suppose I must sign off to fulfill my role. I haven't had a chance to get to the store to get myself a nice bottle of red wine, so I guess I won't get my glass tonight. Too bad--the breeze is lovely, humidity is uncharacteristically low and the sky is *almost* the blue of an autumn sky we will start to see in September.
I usually dread the beginning of fall. This year, I daresay I actually am looking forward to it!
Ahhhhh! Finally!
The world is a sweeter place when not seen through sleep-deprived eyes. Hope is visible, panic is down and clarity abounds.
The courage is not yet with me. I wish I could talk to my children's father and get the ball rolling. But I would rather practice avoidance right now. That isn't healthier, but it sure is easier.
Today the monitos and I spent six hours at the local 4-H fair and then, upon returning home I finished washing the sheets, making the beds and mowed our front and back lawns (the house is on just under 1/3 acre, and on a slope, so mowing is a rather big job). I should get some of those little goats we saw out at the fair today to come live with us during the summer; that would keep my lawn well-tended.
Tomorrow I am leaving for the day and not looking back. I will take my laptop so that I can work, but outside the house or I will end up being stuck doing all the meals for everybody--including him--that I should not have to do on my "not" custody time. We had decided last year on a split-time "practice" custody that always ends up leaving me with the kids when he is supposed to have them. If I don't just leave the house without looking back, that will happen again as he will not stand up for his time with them. That is just the way he is; not meant to be criticism but rather a mere observation. I want them to have time with him; both he and they need and deserve it.
It is obvious that they are all waiting for me to put food on the table tonight, so I suppose I must sign off to fulfill my role. I haven't had a chance to get to the store to get myself a nice bottle of red wine, so I guess I won't get my glass tonight. Too bad--the breeze is lovely, humidity is uncharacteristically low and the sky is *almost* the blue of an autumn sky we will start to see in September.
I usually dread the beginning of fall. This year, I daresay I actually am looking forward to it!
sábado, 2 de agosto de 2008
mother nature's intervention
I honestly believed last night was one to be restful.
Emotionally I have been completely wrung this week. I can hardly feel anything right now. Lots of reasons, nothing really postable. Last night before surrendering to a few moments of slumber I linguistically deconstructed the word "tears" and the Spanish word for tears, "lágrimas." I find "lágrimas" so much more fitting to express tears one sheds. The term begins with a soft aveolar lateral placement of the tongue /l/ while "tears" sounds harsher, the dental occlusive forcing the sound out of from behind the front teeth with a force, like a gunshot. "Lágrimas" allows the idea to glide smoothly out of the mouth, much like a "lágrima" would roll down your cheeks...
And I fell asleep. Nothing like linguistics to knock a poor soul out.
Mother Nature, however, had other plans. Lightning, thunder, wind started up a little after 2 a.m. (I think...) which required me to get up, run around closing windows and then lay in my bed, watching the light show. In my entire life, I don't believe I have ever been known to have slept through a single storm.
By the time the cloudy sky began to show signs of light, the lightning passed. And I could finally sleep.
Perhaps I am part vampire? Nah--reincarnated sun goddesses and vampires cannot coexist in the same body. Too much essential, internal conflict.
A shot of Mama Llama-bucks (cheaper than *bucks, mind you) and let's just see how productive I can make this day. Lemonade from lemons, correct?
Emotionally I have been completely wrung this week. I can hardly feel anything right now. Lots of reasons, nothing really postable. Last night before surrendering to a few moments of slumber I linguistically deconstructed the word "tears" and the Spanish word for tears, "lágrimas." I find "lágrimas" so much more fitting to express tears one sheds. The term begins with a soft aveolar lateral placement of the tongue /l/ while "tears" sounds harsher, the dental occlusive forcing the sound out of from behind the front teeth with a force, like a gunshot. "Lágrimas" allows the idea to glide smoothly out of the mouth, much like a "lágrima" would roll down your cheeks...
And I fell asleep. Nothing like linguistics to knock a poor soul out.
Mother Nature, however, had other plans. Lightning, thunder, wind started up a little after 2 a.m. (I think...) which required me to get up, run around closing windows and then lay in my bed, watching the light show. In my entire life, I don't believe I have ever been known to have slept through a single storm.
By the time the cloudy sky began to show signs of light, the lightning passed. And I could finally sleep.
Perhaps I am part vampire? Nah--reincarnated sun goddesses and vampires cannot coexist in the same body. Too much essential, internal conflict.
A shot of Mama Llama-bucks (cheaper than *bucks, mind you) and let's just see how productive I can make this day. Lemonade from lemons, correct?
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