Rose Colored Glasses: or Accept that Life is Annoying

Peace is man's idea. The idea that we could, in the midst of survival, of reproduction of life and death be in stasis, is laughable, but when we consider peace, we seem to think of this state as something physically attainable- alone, seated in a lovely room with a lovely breeze, perhaps a book or music, but peace is not a physical state. Imagine yourself seated in such a room. You sit there for a few moments, and then you realize that the breeze coming in through the curtain is a touch cold, or perhaps the music you're listening to stops. The physical state of peace as we imagine it is either not attainable or not sustainable. We must find peace by accepting.

I myself am searching for the physically unattanable peace right now. I'm seated at a coffee shop, Mozart in my ears, little flecks of snow falling outside. I am escaping a husband who never leaves the house and a child who feels I am his personal plaything. I wanted a little space. But guess what? I'm cold. The people around me are around me, they cannot be avoided. This is related to the "grass is always greener", or the "you don't know what you got till it's gone." (props Joni). I am missing my life before marriage and children when there was quiet and lonely- but when I was single, I was quiet and lonely, and frightened, and had no trjectory. And now, I am married to someone who suits me and I love very much, even when I hate him, I have foci, I have children (I ironically want more). So life is good. But it's still annoying.

I am seeking to understand that there will be more disasters. And it's ok. And I'm going to be frustrated with my loves. And it's ok., I accept this annoying and chilling and frustrating life. I must put my rose colored glasses and imagine that there's a touch of romanticism in everything I do. Because the imagining part is often the romantic part I seek. Rose colored glasses.

Sleeping Arrangements

Huggins is 3 and 3 months. Until now, he has been sleeping at least part of every night in our bed. Now, I'm proud to say, we're on day 2 of him sleeping all night in his bed. This is something that Jim has been focused on for a LONG time- for about 3 years and 3 months. I have had many anxieties about Huggins' sleep, or more accurately, my sleep. I've been afraid that if I fall asleep something might happen to him (all of the scary things that mothers imagine might happen to their children). I remember our first nights with him being some of the most anxious of my life. We'd be in bed together, and if I'd drift off, I'd suddenly wake up, feeling guilty and check to see if he was still breathing, it was a rough couple of... years.

This thing of Huggins sleeping in his bed has been a big deal. I've had to "let go" a little. All these mommy feelings I thought were about personality, really aren't. They're about position- I'm a mom. This stuff comes with the territory. The other thing I learned is that teaching kids takes time. You have to try something for a month to see if it works. I've been looking, not for a quick fix, but for a quick answer. I've been expecting some big giant neon signs to point me in the right direction. I felt that my experience as a nanny, coach, teacher should all help me in parenting, and maybe it has, but it doesn't mean that it's not still hard. It is.

What's lovely is: My husband and I have a huge king bed, all to ourselves, and the boy has a cute little red cowboy bed.

Snow Day

The big snows of my childhood are filled with stories of blizzards and trees falling and hiking in groceries on a sled. I remember sliding off the roof of the garage into a bank of 5' snow. The snows of Huggins childhood are a big less dramatic but just as fun. Santa brought him a sled this year and he's been getting some good use out of it.

Jim's family moved here from the LA area the year that Jim and I were married, and until then had little experience with snow- being SoCal natives. They've acclimated pretty well, but there are still moments where it's clear that they're just not from around here. I find that kind of thing very amusing.

The neighborhood kids and I are hoping that school is cancelled tomorrow. :) Keep your fingers crossed!

What if I don't want to have my ass kicked?

I am in the middle of a master's program that is for me a liberal arts major is very challenging. I am relearning much of the math I've forgotten over the years and doing ok, but not cruising along in Chemistry. I'm attempting to add an endorsement to my run-of-the-mill Elementary Ed Degree, and become a high school (with the possibility of college) chemistry teacher.

I enjoy science and was and am always interested in how things work, what the universe is made of, etc. But at this point in my life (mother, wife, teacher, landlord) and I able to tackle this? If I elect to get a MA in ELL or Instructional Design or something similar, will I always look back on the program as a failure, or something that could have been? My father always encouraged me that I could do whatever I wanted, and I believe him to be true, but is this what I want- in perspective to everything else I want?

Here's what I want: I want to enjoy my life. I find that I sometimes get frustrated with my son because I feel the pressure of working and he wants me to play (which is something else I feel pressure to do). I want to be a good wife. I want to have the energy to do many other things that interest me. I think teaching is what I want to do with my life, it seems to fit my personality, though I'm not completely sure that I will always want to teach the same level of student and may be interested in getting into adult ed. I think I am at least kind of interested in getting a PhD at some point. I may consider principaling (maybe). I want to have time to read and write and take yoga and have another baby and spend time with my husband and children. I want to make the home life for them that I missed out on. I may be interested in teaching in another country when my kids are bigger or grown.

I have always been a bit of a grasshopper, and wanted to work less than the fun I have. I skated through much of my education, and honestly, I'd like to continue to skate. Just something I'm thinking about.

RIP Chrismas, 2011

Wow, I'm glad that Christmas is over. I'm not grinch or anything. I try to make sure that everyone's christmas lands some where between magical and not over indulgent. I bake, I take my family to church, we attend the annual family festivities. But- it's a pain to keep everyone happy all the time, and to mitigate inter-family relationships, to negotiate, to put some of my needs on the back burner, and I'm always relieved when it's over.

When I was growing up it was almost always me and my dad, and thus pretty mellow. If you wanted to have something different for dinner, you could. This has it's good and bad points. On the one hand, I'm creating family traditions out of thin air in hopes that my children feel like we did things together during the holidays. On the other hand, I don't feel any pressure to continue to make great aunt Martha's candied yams even though no one likes candied yams, just because they've been present at the Christmas table for the last 50 years. My husband's family does not come from the same place I do. The proverbial yams are present as well as the pressure to produce them.

The step child situation also presents it's issues, mainly related to the pressure to do something everyday that is fun and memorable as she's not here everyday like our son is, days we often "take off" from doing anything organized or high pressure. We did attempt to go sledding at Mount Baker, I organized the shebang including the 3 year old, the 13 year old and a friend of said 13 year old, several sleds and gear and lunches and the dog. On the way up to the mountain the 3 year old threw up in his car seat. The girls were (as 13 year olds generally are) not much help, and we bagged the trip and went home. After that, it was a crappy day. I tried to make sure that everyone was having fun, and took the girls to the mall, leaving potentially puking son with husband, who has a real issue with vomit. He did not vomit, and was fine the rest of the day, but everyone's day had been thrown. It was the low point of my holiday season.

So now, I am planning a new year's eve party for friends with small children who don't get to go out. The families are coming together and the kids will have a play area, we will have potluck dinner and (hopefully) dancing. I've been working on the awesome sound track for several days already.

Here's to a fabulous 2012.

My son, the tyrant.

I'm going to just lay it out here. I'm pissed.

My son is driving me crazy. He will not hold my hand in the parking lot, he will not climb into his car seat, he will not eat his lunch, or drink his water, he will not clean up toys, he will not stop pulling on my clothes, he will not talk to me, he will not play nice, he will not.

He will scream in my face. He will kick me in time out. He will squirm out of my arms, he will argue. He will push me and pull me. He will hit the dog on the head (completely unprovoked). He will wake up at 6am and while I'm half dozing on the couch he will climb on me. He will eat 5 cookies while no one is looking.

I have completely had it. I'm trying new things and patience right now does not seem possible. I am trying to be calm, and patient. But I feel the frustration running through my veins. And because I cannot hate my son, I hate everyone else. That's right, my husband, my friends and you: happy couple who's high fiveing at the play gym. You. I hate you because you seem so happy and in control. It's not funny. I hate you mother of baby. I hate you because mothers who do not have toddler + children are the same, smug happy people that I used to be- imagining that you will do it right, avoid the pitfalls that we the "less experienced, educated, whatever" mothers seem to have fallen victim to. That some how you're using your superior mother powers to will your children to be perfect and never experience the rough times that (as the more experienced mother, I can tell) are in everyone's future.

-Grumpy Mom

Resembling the Original: Truck v. Bus

Today, I sold the old pick-up. She still runs good, but the family doesn't fit in her anymore. Tonight Huggins fell asleep at the table. I hope his run till he drops phase is over soon. And I hope it's a phase. Pearl is here for 4 days and is thinking she'll be back next weekend as well. Everybody says the end of an era, and as far as I loved the truck- I didn't, but it was reliable, but as far as shedding the materials of my pre-marriage self, it is something.

We're purchasing something interesting in the truck's place: 1969 VW Bus. The VW is something both Jim and I wanted. We each had one when we were growing up (though in radically different decades!). It will be an interesting, fun, family project for us. And it will have seats for all the kids. Finding seat-belts however, will prove interesting (and important!).

The night before we went to see the bus, I had a dream that my husband was in love with someone else and had bought her a ring and intended to move with her back into our beloved house. This is the complete opposite of the kind of husband Jim is, because apart from his high moral fiber, it would just make him nervous.

I mentioned this dream to him as we were driving to Deming to check out the new bus. He asked me if the dream might be more about what I am thinking about. I rejected this theory, as I intend to be married to Jim forever, but it did get me thinking. In my dream, I felt a lot of fear, and I think that Jim in my mind represents safety and consistency. He sets the pace in our life, he keeps me steadily working in the right direction. I think my dream was about my loosing my safety in him, maybe it was more about selling "my" truck and investing that money into a family mobile, that I am now less independent than I was. It is interesting as we become spouses and parents how our single personalities become family personalities.

As I am doing this with out seeing the example growing up, I do feel like I'm discovering this on my own. I feel good that I'm creating something that only exists in my mind. Like trying to draw a recalled image, if I squint just right, I can see that it resembles the original. T