Cleaning, tots, update
Fluwatch: Noah threw up three times, but seems to be on the mend. We’ll see how the day goes. I’m still waiting to come down with it.
Jody thanks for talking me down. :) It brought up a lot about cleaning and Noah and the house, and so here’s the ramble.
I have such strong reactions when I read on parenting boards about how (young; under 4) kids have to clean up or else they will be wastrels for life. I just pretty much disagree. It’s not that I don’t think they should participate. It’s that I think the participation should come in the form of a firm invitation: “hey, time to clean up - can you find all the dinosaurs?” and that if the child digs his or her heels in that day, it should generally be let go.
I recognize that part of this is the luxury of having a solitary, generally sunny child. Noah is the sort who occasionally remarks “When I’m 9, I will get to clean the cat litter, right mummy?” Right now, whatever we do, he wants to do, overall. This does not mean he wants to tidy up at 5:15 on Thursday, but his overall arc is participatory.
The other disclaimer here of course is that he’s at Montessori and they are doing a lot of training for us. Two months in, Noah started clearing his own plate. So now he does. That was easy.
The problem is, though, that we are starting to develop some issues around the whole thing.
First of course is the ongoing tug of war between Carl and I. B.C. (before child) I had come to the conclusion that it was better to figure out how to get the majority of things done on my own, and I had a pretty solid system worked out and it actually was fine. But then we bought this house, which is bigger, and we had a child, and now it doesn’t really work for me. It does work for the basics: kitchen, bathrooms, laundry, vaccuuming, general tidying overall.
But it doesn’t work for: raking, mowing, window washing, de-cluttering - I just find, and this is also related to some of the physical stuff lately, that there just isn’t enough time while I have energy.* And of course when things aren’t getting done, it bothers me.
And then when it bothers me, I also start to get into that headspace that Carl is setting a bad example. Which may or may not be true. So it’s a problem. I keep trying to attack it with organization and failing. I am starting to think we might have to try to budget for cleaning, but that would mean no vacation in March.
The second thing is the peculiar problem of our generation: we have too many toys. I mean, the vast majority of our toys are ones I think are good ones and have high play value - wooden train set, dollhouse, Playmobil, Lego, Duplo, and MegaBlocks, cars, dinos, a variety of types of blocks, art supplies & easel, and still the ubiquitous Little People. In some cases we’ve purchased the starter bits (dollhouse, trains, Lego), some have been garage sale wins (MegaBlocks, Little People) and the rest have been gifts (more of everything, some blocks, etc.)
And we have a metric ton of books and puzzles.
And Noah loves them all. He also still occasionally wants to get out the early toddler toys: big trucks, stacking toys, easier puzzles.
This last is what is sort of the problem. The love.
I have a toy rotation plan which I have largely implemented, and it used to work like a charm - a container or two of toys would go down into storage and be forgotten about for a month, and it would keep the sheer ‘noise’ quite in line.
But NOW Noah knows every single toy he has, I think. And asks for them. And sets up large elaborate things where the dinosaurs invade the Playmobil store. And does not want his train set up disturbed. (1/4 of our living floor is a Thomas set up; I actually don’t mind it ’cause it’s attractive but also because I can’t think of a day that goes by without it getting use. But it is there, so when you add the Lego in, it gets a bit sketchy.)
So it’s either a lot of almost daily work pulling out the ‘resting’ toys, an argument, or we need to have them out. And this is BEFORE Christmas. I’m tearing my hair out a bit. We’ve talked about how it’s nicer to be able to find the toys and he really gets it - when I point out the cars are easier to find if they go back in the car basket, he really makes the effort. But he’s 3. He really cannot be the solution.
I think one solution would be fewer toys. Although I grew up with a fair amount of toys, especially for the day, and they were nicely organized often by my mum and then by my sister and I, and it was one of the Good Things about my house. It wasn’t just quantity obviously, but quality and scope - I remember setting up huge Tinkertoy villages for the Little People and dolls, and horse events, and massive block structures. I definitely want that for Noah. (We never had Playmobil but wanted it; it wasn’t affordable for my parents, who largely purchased at garage sales.)
To maybe move that way a bit, though, I’ve tried to talk to Noah about the “kids who have nothing” and how we should give them toys (perhaps some Little People), and Noah’s quite keen - until it’s one of his toys, of course. I’m pretty sure in a few more years it will be easier.
But right now, the child’s a magpie, it’s all pretty important to him, I’m ambivalent - and it’s still a little hard to manage. He’s not ready to manage it entirely, so I spend probably a couple hours a week sorting out the toys again (with his help) - the Lego into the Lego, the Playmobil into the Playmobil, the dollhouse into the dollhouse, and so on and so forth. Otherwise it becomes unplayable.
(Now that I type this I think the dollhouse could probably have a big play break, but I worry a bit that if we put it away for too long he’ll absorb that boys aren’t supposed to play with it. Is that silly?)
It’s very tempting to just halve the lot, to be honest. Although part of me wants to keep them for FutureChild (I’m pretending no one gets new toys for said child) and part of me just doesn’t want to do that without Noah’s permission. He had one schoolbus (of four of various types) where the “stop” sign was bent, so I quietly pitched it in the night. He asked me where it was every day until I said it might have been thrown out (I know, liar) and then he cried. Obviously he is over it now, but I don’t want to keep doing that.**
On the other hand, my parents are near-dangerous packrats, and I know that’s a lifelong hardship. Although I DON’T think it has to be addressed at 3; maybe the reverse - I’m worried that I might make him insecure about his things and then he would hoard later.
Before I never felt like my space (emotional, physical) was invaded. Now I do sometimes feel like my space is being encroached on. And I don’t like feeling resentful about it.
I’m a bit torn about what to do.
We do have pretty good storage systems, lots of baskets-on-shelves-with-labels, upstairs and downstairs. I have also kept Noah’s actual room pretty peaceful, as well as ours, because I find it really helps with sleep. But it’s only just tottering on working right now, and I do think Christmas will be tough.
I’m thinking maybe with the new toys coming in, that will be a good time to pack up some old ones and really put them away in the garage?
Also, just to say - I don’t believe the house should be immaculate or anything. But I do place some value on order. When it’s crazy-messy, I feel it. Carl doesn’t though, at least not that I can tell. So just living in a mess for a few years is not that doable for me.
–
* By that I mean, pretty much, that if I have to clean up while I’m tired - after 9 pm, let’s say - or all weekend - my childhood rage and anger spring to life. That’s part of what I worked out in myself. Sure, if there’s an especial challenge like visitors or stomach flu, it’s actually not a huge deal. But if it’s regular, I start to flip out. I don’t think that’s unreasonable either, to say that I won’t stay up late cleaning. But even if it were, that’s what it takes to stay balanced about it.
** I still have a thing about my stuff, since people in the system de-cluttered my entire CD collection (this was pre-iTunes or it might’ve been ripped) in 1999. Also, although my mum was pretty good about not de-cluttering, she did throw fits where she put ALL my stuff on the lawn or out for the trash, and I have memories of how awful that was that get wrapped up in it.
Germ attack
I am deliberately juxtaposing this post to the last. This post is UIL for it contains much of our dear SingingCleaningGirl.
So last night, while I was roleplaying and Noah was sleeping, poor Carl got the stomach flu. And this morning it seems like Noah might have it too (milder so far, just loose at the other end).
So of course I sat down to type after cleaning out and disinfecting my fridge top to bottom, and I will be attacking the bathrooms next (which is normal weekend procedure anyway, this last).
Because, of course, if there is a flu within 1,000 square metres of my home, it must be my fault. As the eldest daughter of a germaphobic mother, I grew up believing that I was the sole tracker-in of germs to the family home and since I was, from the age of about 6, given water with bleach in it and rubber gloves and rags to wipe down everywhere I touched whenever I was sick, my first reaction is always that it’s some horrendous bacteria that Only I Could Have Prevented, Were I Not So Lazy.
And, to be fair, Noah had the stomach flu two weeks ago, or at least he threw up once (I actually think he may be allergic to soy). So perhaps there is a germ colony floating around in the house somewhere.
[One thing I did realize: last year, Noah's first year in daycare, the inside of my fridge was disinfected about every two weeks. This year it's either been back to the usual quarterly schedule or at least, much less commonly than every other week. So if you are suffering the first year of school or daycare, it does get better.]
Anyways, I wanted to post not only because I’m about to try to figure cleaning out better, particularly where preschooler variables exist, but also because I am struggling a little with the message I’m giving here.
The truth is that I don’t think I could not go at the fridge/laundry/doorhandles/etc. It’s not so much that I think I’m unequivocably right, as that it’s seriously less effort to do it — and I mean, it’s something that would happen in due course anyway — than it is to talk myself down off the ledge of wondering if the meat I defrosted on Thursday might have somehow escaped the plate under it, invisibly, to breed a dread disease that Noah stuck his finger in. Might as well just haul the shelf out and wash it.
But I don’t want Noah to grow up feeling so - guilty and neurotic about it. Just because I am at peace with that bit of neuroticism, doesn’t mean I want to pass it on. Yet I know I’m modelling it. And I know I am because I muttered to myself, as we went downstairs, “Oh I’d better clean the downstairs bathroom,” and Noah said why and I was overly sharing and said “so we clean the germs out” and then Noah WOULD NOT PEE THERE until I did. So yes, that’s my neurotic stuff.
So how to approach with the babe?
So 1991
I roleplayed last night and I had a great deal of fun doing it. Since Wednesday I have been considering whether or not to go ahead and play. a game. While my life is a little tangled up. And I think I’ve decided well, yeah, actually. We’ll see how things proceed.
I of course now have to look at the deep psychological bit, so if that’s not your thing, come back later.
Since Emily died really, but especially since Noah was born, I’ve been experiencing a kind of calm normalcy. I suppose most people wouldn’t think of the grenade that goes off in your life and marriage with a newborn as calm and normal, but for me, it has been. Because we, the system, utterly agree on so many things. Like, being a good parent to Noah is this very normal thing. People understand you when you talk about that. They may not understand you if you chose to go on and say something like “Hey, wow, who knew that Lynn would end up being the person who is most entirely patient with night waking???”
But it is this very universal sort of journey, even if the details are strange.
And going back to work was a very good thing to do. Because it’s creative and empowering. But it isn’t really entirely about that: much of it is along the lines of “wouldn’t it be nice to be able to both travel with our son once or twice a year and save for retirement at the same time?” And let’s face it, as much as I adore my publication (and some of the upcoming stories are ones I want to talk about, once they’re out) it is not revolutionary… or rather, it is, but only in a world where saying women are complicated is revolutionary.
But what I haven’t been really doing, myself, is being that creative. Or being that much myself (just as Lynn has not been herself, etc.) I did work over a short story with a view towards the CBC literary awards, but it wasn’t ready. And on the subway I have been slowly reading my book again, and I know what the trouble was in finishing it, and I pretty much know how to fix it, and I am doing research, but I have to restructure a core piece and it’s a lot of work. And you know what? I do not always feel like doing this work right now. And you know what else? It is ridiculous, this book.
Anyways.
Also, my social life stinks right now. It’s one of those perfect storms: Carl’s work is still insane and I am also the “bedtime parent” so it’s hard to get away in the evenings, and when I do, lately, it has all been work events because I’ve reached this level where I have to, you know, show up to ‘dos’ from time to time. Which is social in the sense of yay, people. (Thank god.) But not in the sense of friends.
And weekends - well I can address this weekend bit and I am going to, but right now weekends have been about a) kid events and b) chores, chores, chores.
Carl’s issues, as much as I see that he is engaging with them and all that, also turn me into a bit of a nag. (I allow them to. But it’s not fun. And it’s not me as I wish to be. In my ideal universe I am not the one obsessing over the laundry.)
Anyways, so when I logged onto a creative, mildly social environment (one in which I met my husband, some of my best friends, and where we, the system got to know each other), it just felt good. It did! PernMUSH! Who knew? And god, it makes sense. So although I know I have these other things to address, I’m going to have some fun, especially over the winter. I think. I’m still waiting a bit to see if it blows up.
But anyways so there that is. Here’s the next oddest bit that someone should investigate for their thesis, ’cause I’d like to know if it’s a human phenomenon, an Internet thing, or a multiple thing.
I totally found my personality there! I suppose this is something that happens at reunions, now that I think about it (I can’t say, since I avoid mine, although my 20th is next year). But I take more social risks. On several levels, but like I’m sort of quick to banter (something I did in university, but haven’t exercised much as a muscle since, except online) and a little flirty, and louder. Definitely louder. And more fun loving.
It was weird. I logged in and I thought about a few things and I made a decision to be myself, and it was like, here is a piece of me that I haven’t exactly left behind, but which is perhaps most easily accessed here. [Weirdly, the Jehovah's Witnesses interrupted me here to remind me that God loves me. Well okay then!]
It made me a bit wistful and I guess aware that especially since Emily died I have kind of played life fairly safely. Which is definitely not a bad thing when you have young children and houses and spouses and all that, and which I also embrace. I honestly get a kick out of my crockpot much of the time - ok, sometimes the food comes out totally overcooked, but when it does, it’s so nice to come home to the smell of a good dinner all ready! It’s really an underappreciated sort of magic.
But beyond that, in me, there’s this whole other wild piece - the crazy fiction (and I don’t mean the serious stuff), the quirky flirty person in the red dress, the person who will stay up all night painting the walls a new colour with no planning whatsoever and yes, the warrior, however you want to interpret that metaphorically.
It seems like the right time to be getting some of that back. Playfully, of course.
But we’ll see: there are all the other issues of time and energy and so on and so forth. Although something you can do at home at night is a plus! (Now THERE is a housewifey line!)
The impenetrability of young adult development
Why is it that I still have PernMUSH dreams? I mean the sleeping kind, not the lusting kind?
And why, when I log on (BZZZT) and see positions do I still have to contemplate applying?
Do you think that 20 year olds are kind of like ducklings, and imprint on things?
Quick update
Car: $3500 + damage. I am obviously dealing with insurance and they are investigating who shall pay, for it shall not be I. The young driver in question was not insured. He did, I think, either panic and hit the accelerator, or try to run for it, but he came back and checked everyone out for injury and then clammed up and never said a word to me after that.
Me: Turns out I have whiplash or its like. Maybe the PT will help everything? If it were a movie of the week this would cure me!
Noah: Is fine. Carseats RULE!
I’m deeply tired and kind of down. I feel a bit smacked around by life, and a few other things. Then I get ashamed for whining. Things are pretty good when your child explains to you how he is a shark, with gills, chasing the smaller fish, and has four rows of teeth.
No good deed goes unpunished.
I stopped to help a woman today whose car had broken down. She had two kids with her about 6 & 8 years old and none of them were really dressed for the snow. I pulled in front of her, put on my flashers, and stayed in my seat, but handed my cell phone to her while she stood on the passenger side, with one leg sort of down off the curb to reach in to get the cell phone.
Because I am a sucker for women with children who need help. Of course, you know what is coming next. MEANWHILE some teenagers with no license were stealing an idling Buick and going for a joyride and they drove around her too fast, skidded into oncoming traffic, hit a car there, bounced into my car, my car struck the woman, and she fell down and broke her hip.
I wish I were joking.
Noah is fine, I am fine, the car is dented but okay (MY NEW CAR), the woman went in ambulance to hospital, Noah got checked out by paramedics, my carseat install was praised, the strap placement and tightness was praised, everyone was very nice to me, we were there for 3 hours and Noah did not even pee his seat, and was generally a trooper, except for screaming the whole time I was talking to 911 and looking around to see if the other people had been thrown from their vehicles. (No; they were fine. Just the broken leg.)
I am feeling cursed and miserable. Despite being very glad for all the okayness. Noah saw me pray for the first time, a prayer of thanksgiving.
Oh and my sister is having a baby and I am going to be a bio-aunt for the first time! And THAT is good news.
Parenting: Predators, Internet, etc.
I’m in two conversations at once about kids’ use of social media on the Internet: at the lovely Ask Moxie site and also over at MotheringDotCommune, my hippie hangout of choice.
Bearing in mind that I:
- am the parent who was totally paranoid about a nanny and who does not have cable television
- am a person who spent/wasted much of her young adulthood poking around every. sordid. corner. of the Internet, sometimes to negative emotional results
- am a survivor of incest and rape
- am a mother who lost an infant
Here is what has gradually occured to me.
I think what I most want for Noah is a really great life.
And although I see protecting him from abuse, drugs, and crap as a huge part of that, I am becoming increasingly sure that fear is the enemy.
Knowledge and skepticism are not.
I am after all the person who followed Protecting the Gift to the letter and asked both our future nanny and our future school director: “Have you ever hit a child? Abused a child? Has anyone on your staff ever abused or hit a child?” Not that I expected a yes even if so, but the reaction to the question went a long way. I am not into pretending everything is fine. It is not fine. Life just isn’t safe. You do so much and then you have to let it go. The question is how much.
Anyways how does this relate to the net? There is a lot of fear about social media and the Internet. I think we can break this down into a few categories:
Exposure: I don’t particularly want my 9 year old to come across pictures of bestiality, for example. Or my 90 year old. Or anyone. Ew.
Predation: There are undoubtably not only pure pedophiles on the ‘net, there are also card-carrying members of NAMBLA, college boys seeking 12 year olds, 16 year olds seeking 16 year olds, and serial killers.
General unhealthiness: Time on the ‘net leads you to be discontent with reality, takes over your life, etc.
So one at a time:
Exposure
Err, yah. I do not want my son exposed to a hell of a lot of stuff on the Internet. I also don’t want him exposed to the evening news, where there are many images I find extremely disturbing. But as he gets older, I feel like I have to accept two things:
1) By the time he is say, 16, he will be fully capable of finding whatever he wants whenever he wants, Internet at home or no Internet at home. There are such things as adult book and video stores and all you have to do is have a big coat, a hat, and slouch a lot. Not only that, but you could be me at 14 and be babysitting and snoop around and come across a lot of disturbing porn.
2) No matter what he finds at any age, I would like him to be able to express and discuss anything that is disturbing to him. When I found the aforementioned porn, there was no one in my life - not even a peer friend - with whom I could discuss any of that, and it was actually that that messed me up more than anything else.
Conclusion: My goal between age 3 and age 16 is to try to limit exposure to Bad Things and maximize exposure to Good Things, with a gradually decreasing emphasis on the limiting part over time. My other goal is to try to build a strong relationship so that any disturbing things can be… well, I’m not sure any teen boy is going to discuss them with his mother, but he might hang out and do the dishes that day to be reassured he has a home or something. You probably get what I am going for here. Love, acceptance, and a sense that there is no livid, raging, grounded consequence for having chosen to click on the wrong link or enter the wrong store.
Corollary: I find I do actually believe that exposure to good things - quality literature, art (including nudes!), and music - will help to buffer the spirit. I also find I think there’s a place for funny YouTube videos in that.
Additional corollary: What I have always loved about the ‘net is that kids/people can make their own YouTube videos (ok, it used to be web pages). Sure they need help deciding what is appropriate - but what power and voice and learning and information! I love the little Lego movies people make. That is SO COOL. If I were a teen today I would be ALL OVER that.
Predation
I have spent a lot of my life steeped in abuse - my own abuse, being attracted to abusive situations, joining survivor circles, being multiple and finding other multiples, being in therapy, etc. I have gut-wrenching, hands-on experience with the lifelong impact of abuse. I feel frequently as if I would literally die if Noah were abused - or more to the point live in absolute agony. I think it would be hell on earth…
… except
… I’m also aware that that feeling is probably what would keep him from telling me if he were. I mean if your mother’s giving off vibes that this is the One Thing She Cannot Handle, a lot of sensitive kids would kind of pick up on that?
So, I’ve actually spent some time and energy trying to work through this. And here’s what I’ve come up with:
1) I actually don’t believe the Internet is a big risk. The stats bear this out. If you don’t believe me, look it up. (I am awed by this study.)
Yes there are pedophiles. But their approach to kids online is by nature of the medium risky and clumsy: logs can be made; emails can be found and even, to a point, traced. It’s a lot of work. Sure there are a lot of disgusting things that can happen quickly: they can convince your child to send pictures or use a web cam; they can engage in sexual talk or send links to porn.
These are serious and real things. But they also are a step away from being held down and sodomized. I would prefer none of them happen, and they would be a violation. But I do feel they are a lesser risk in some ways, if we are having to sort “bad things that can happen to you” out into risk categories.
And if you read that study you’ll find the danger is a lot where it always has been: the 17 year old who just invited your 14.5 year old to the prom.
2) The most dangerous people are the people who have physical access to one’s child already. Especially family and trusted adults - teachers, priests, etc.
3) After reading Michael Kimmel’s Guyland, and interviewing him, I’m increasingly convinced that the most dangerous place you can put your son in particular is on a team, and your daughter at a party with teammates present. Not only are coaches potential abusers and locker rooms big time risky situations; hazing and other sports rites (drinking, proving things) seem to put kids at particular risk. Especially teens and young adults.
4) Given all this, I think it’s probably more responsible to let my son onto social media at the appropriate age (I’m thinking 10 supervised, 12 less supervised, and so on towards that 16 year old goal) than it is to let him play sports. And let me be clear: I will probably let him play sports anyway.
Because here I have to circle back to this new realization: I want Noah to have a great life. And a great life may well include soccer and Facebook (well that will be dead by then, but whatever replaces it.) Trips to the mall. Trips to the park.
It makes me sad in a way that so many kids are sitting home IMing people because we don’t let them outside any more.
… except I was let outside and I was outside until 9 pm and then on the phone as late as I could get away with it. Kids are insatiable that way.
Corollary: I also have come to realize that strong connections to good people - who exist on the internet too! - are a bonus in life. I don’t think it’s good to live so much in fear that you get disconnected, because that is when you are most vulnerable. So I actually start to come out on the fan side of the social part of the media, if the social part is good. A lot of teen social stuff is not good no matter how you slice it… sigh.
General unhealthiness
As with all things I think moderation is important, and I think knowing your kid and your values is important. I myself have been on the ‘net unhealthily - still am at times - and I get that it can be a big fat zero. At the same time, the job I have is because I was on the ‘net and the spouse I have I met on the ‘net and several of my best friends have come via the ‘net.
So no, I don’t think social media is inherently unhealthy; I don’t think the phone is unhealthy and I don’t think conversation or letter-writing is unhealthy.
I do think that health comes from aligning activities with values and being active and all that. But I think the ‘net is a good tool in the arsenal - not the only one - for defining that. And I think teens today are actively involved in that process as they have been for decades now: who am I? What do I like? Who likes me? What do I want to do with my life?
And I guess I don’t really want to limit Noah’s access to the tools kids today (oh my god, “Kids Today”) are using to do that, without cause.
So final conclusion: I find myself pro-social media in the end, as long as it is in the context of generally good week. I think the risks are outweighed by the benefits of the relative safety of experimentation online and the connection to the social conversation that occurs on the Internet.
You’re welcome to… comment. Hee.
PS
Writing all that made me feel infinitely better. Why is that?
2:30 am
It’s 2:30 am and I am up. I’m having another one of these episodes, whatever they are - I had a wicked migraine at work; one of the first I’ve had during the day. Went to bed with Noah at 7:30 pm. He woke me up at 1:30 because his diaper leaked, and now I can’t get back to sleep. I know messing about on the ‘net is the wrong response but here I am regardless.
I’m also pretty anxious, which I was last night. I know that this might reinforce the idea that what I need is anti-depressants and not more tests, but I still pretty much believe that it’s the reverse - whatever I have produces anxiety. I do think working out would help immensely, but I still can’t find the energy… it’s a real chicken and egg problem, compounded by the craziness of my life right now.
And I have to acknowledge that some of my life is crazy right now. Work is insanely busy; I sort of get off on this, but I’m not sure it’s healthy. And I have to admit some of it is self-imposed by my own high standards &/or failure to meet them (although some of it is also corporate). Sometimes I wish I could disengage a little bit better from what I do. For a while there I had a real zen going with this job, but that was before my site went up, of course. A website is kind of difficult to manage in that there’s always something more one could be doing.
I think the zen is my next personal goal though. I am not my site and my site is not me.
Home is very up and down. I feel like Noah is doing really well over all; the only thing I’m not sure about is still the hours he spends in daycare. I think the Montessori is working out really really well in terms of him being safe and having things to learn and do, and learning to get along with other kids, and all that stuff. I’m increasingly a fan of the whole Montessori method in terms of engaging the intellect and providing a good environment.
But I do kind of wish we could swing 4 days a week rather than 5, or something similar. Sometimes Noah has clearly had enough and wants to be with me and Carl. And if something happens - like last Thursday I was at an after-work event, that kind of thing - to tilt the balance, I think it does stress him out a bit. In many ways I have found that the whole two WOHPs thing is not as bad as it might seem; we still have time each day to hang out together and relax and be. But there are some moments where you wish the world would stop for a bit.
I also am wondering what next. We have too many options: junior kindergarten registration starts in Feb. Probably we will maintain the status quo for one more year, but after that, I don’t know. I actually think anything resembling public school will make working harder, not easier, because of the whole after care issue, not to mention what do about activities. I guess right now I feel like Noah’s school provides a really good day with a good mix of stuff to do (yoga is Noah’s current fav, and he comes home and leads yoga class with us - cobra! downward dog!). But I don’t think public school will do the same, and we’ll need to provide more - downtime and love and yoga? Dunno.
So I feel a bit anxious about what am I doing. Working for the next 20 yrs at my job? (I signed up for the pension.) Working for one more year? It’s all confusing. I know it will sort out.
There’s also that whole other baby thing. On the one hand, I know that in order to handle that things would have to change, plus I really need to get less sick before opening that can of worms. And it freaks me out to make things more complicated. And yet… still don’t feel done. Not sure where to go with this, and I turn 38 in Jan.
Marriage-wise Carl and I more in harmony, but the work pattern on Carl’s end has not changed that appreciably and I am finding it increasingly hard. (Another reason not to get knocked up.) Part of that is my lack of energy, part of it is the difficulty of maintaining a home with the way that he works. But it’s not very under my control unless I want to really fight a lot about it, and I don’t. I just want it fixed. It’s pretty frustrating. Carl makes time for Noah though. Just not for a lot of other stuff.
And it does get all tangled up with the house, which is feeling rather albatross-like to me right now. I have it down so that the house is decently clean and tidy most of the time, except for one room in the basement that’s kind of become a catch-all room. (Significantly, it is the designated art room.) But a lot of stuff that would require two adults, or one adult with a lot more time and skill than I have, or a handyman, is going undone. And I do resent that. And then I feel bad for resenting it. I wish that I had held out for a townhouse closer to downtown in some ways. Except that I love the lake. And moving would involve doing the little fixes anyway, so why not just do them?
As for the money aspect, it is sort of like the house: I manage the daily stuff, but the long-term stuff is largely neglected right now. Which isn’t that smart. Although siging up for the pension plan was a good step.
Anyways, 2 am thoughts.
Has the weekend ended already?
That’s one thing I do not like about working full-time outside of the home: the weekend sometimes feels like the ferry is leaving or the drawbridge is lifting or something. This was one of those: gifted with a free weekend thanks to houseguests cancelling, we were all set to both relax and plow through projects (I know; contradictory).
But a bout of stomach flu on Friday evening (my son, my son… he walked up to me and said “Mummy, my tummy hurts. Will you please get a bowl for me because I am going to throw up.” I did, and he did. Can you believe it??) and various other things and here we are with things half-done.
So in fine point-form fashion: