Uncategorized

Howard has been gone for nearly a week now. As I expected, I read a lot and watched far more movies than usual. They are all ways to pass the time, to fill the empty spaces that are usually spent interacting with Howard. But I can only read so much and watch so many films before my brain says “enough.” Then I want people to talk to. I hit that wall around noon today. I thought about calling people just to talk. I have many people who would happily chat and keep me company for awhile. But the person I really want to talk to is too busy. He’s working all day every day in a crowded convention center. When he does call the conversations are frustratingly short. He has so many more stories than he’s had time to tell me. I have dozens of small things to tell him. If we could spend hours on the phone we might say it all, but he needs to sleep or he won’t survive the weekend.

I miss him. Our anniversary is next week. 14 years married and I still love it when he calls to talk. We still stay up late because there are too many things to say. Not often, but sometimes. You’d think we’d run out of stories to tell, but we just keep making new ones or finding previously unshared pockets of memory. He’ll be home on Monday. I can hardly wait.

Last night I went to bed vowing that I would get things done on the morrow. Amazingly I remembered the vow this morning and still felt compelled to complete it. So I informed all of the kids that the TV would stay off until the family room was cleaned and vacuumed. Then I went out and mowed the jungle that was my lawn. 2 hours later I came in hot and tired to discover that while my kids did obey my instructions, they did it by playing quietly sans video games rather than by cleaning up the family room. I expected that. Eventually some one would care enough about playing a game that they’d actually clean.

Kiki folded first. She has been playing Ocarina of Time and wanted to continue her game. However there was a small problem. She isn’t the one that makes a mess in the family room. I tried to convince her that we all have to contribute to the cleanliness of the house that we share, but she could not bring herself to clean up a mess that she did not help make. She and I spent a good 20 minutes negotiating. I explained that holding the TV hostage was the only way I had to make sure that the work actually got done. I did that because I was not excited about cleaning up someone else’s mess either. I was in fact trying to accomplish the same thing that she was. I was trying to make the people who created the mess participate in cleaning up the mess. Kiki was ready to have me haul all the other kids in and make them clean right away. I knew how that would turn out. I would haul them protesting away from their games and friends. They would then lay on the floor whining while Kiki and I cleaned up the room. There would be yelling and frustration. In the end the people who cared about the mess (Kiki and I) would be the ones who did most of the work. I tried to convince her that it would be better if we just did it without the accompaniment of whining children. She conceeded that this was how this kind of event usually went, but persisted in feeling that she shouldn’t be the only one to help clean up the mess when she didn’t make any of it.

She sugguested bribing the kids with treats which led to a discussion about how I can’t leave the house to go get treats because we have friends over. She then suggested making cookies. I pointed out that before we could make cookies we would have to clean up the kitchen. Her next suggestion was that we invite my friend Janci over. Her thought was that Janci could clean my kitchen while she and I work on the family room. Then we could make cookies. Even as she said it I could see her realize that this was not an appropriate way to treat a friend. However the discussion of kitchen things did lead us to the final solution.

Kiki agreed to empty and reload the dishwasher. When she finished, she is allowed to turn on the TV to play her game. However none of the other kids are allowed to watch the game until the family room is cleaned up. If the other kids try to watch the game, Kiki will pause while they clean up the room or until they leave the room to do something else. Kiki is not allowed to get angry or upset if one of the other kids forces her to pause the game. I have to make sure that the other kids either work fast to clean or leave the room quickly, thus minimizing the necessary pause. Since the kids all enjoy watching Kiki play, this still gives me a motivator for getting the family room clean. And I got a clean kitchen out of the deal too. Everybody wins.

But I think the biggest win for me was talking with Kiki during the negotiations. I was able to help her see some of the reasons why I handle the younger kids the way that I do. This is good, because lately Kiki has been acting as a policeman over the behaviors of some of the other kids. This is occasionally frustrating for me because she’ll be insisting that I enforce something when I can clearly see that enforcement will cause more problems than it will solve. I get frustrated because I don’t want to cause more problems and because I can see that she is right and rules should either be rules all the time or not rules at all.

Anyway. My lawn is mowed. My kitchen is clean. And my family room will likely get cleaned before the day is over. I’m thinking that I’ve fulfilled my vow. Now if I could just get rid of this headache.

I’ve had reasonable amount of exposure to speculative universes which contain vampires. I’ve read Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’ve watched the Bela Lugosi movies. I’ve watched the more recent versions. I’ve seen the play. I’ve watched all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all five seasons of Angel. I’ve read Interview with a Vampire. I’ve watched Underworld and Nosferatu and Blade. I’ve read Kitty and the Midnight Hour and Kitty goes to Washington.

The universes where vampires are monsters to be fought by humans do not upset me. The universes which glorify sex, blood, and violence, tangling them all up together, repulse me. It is the universes that portray vampires as sometimes unwilling monsters, redeemable monsters, that both fascinate me and make me uneasy. Perhaps that uneasiness is a good thing because it means I have been drawn out of my comfort zone and I must analyze my reactions. But I consistently feel that while these vampire universes are interesting places to visit, it would not be good for me to allow them to capture my imagination. They should not be where I allow my mind to dwell.

I worry about the effect the portrayal of repentant vampires can have on young girls who are forming their picture of the ideal man. A vampire who turns away from his monster nature is indeed doing a noble thing but invariably the monster appears and menaces the love interest. That hint of danger is part of the appeal of the vampire hero. He could be bad, but chooses not to be. Unfortunately in the real world the men who radiate that “could be dangerous” vibe tend to actually be dangerous. Abusive men are generally very repentant, until the next time.

But my unease with vampire universes is more central that a concern over vampires-as-heroes. It has to do with the fact that people are made into monsters by the choices of others. Then once they have become monsters, there is no redemption. I am a big believer in personal choice. Most of us are where we are because of choices we have made. I want to believe that all of us are reaping the consequences of our own choices, but that is not true. Some people are reaping the consequences of choices made by someone else. For them the plight of the vampire has great resonance because they have landed in a horrible place that they did not choose and have to learn to live with it. They have to strive to make the best of what they have. But see I am also a big believer in redemption. I believe there are few acts which can not be redeemed and all of them are choices you make, not choices that someone else makes for you. I want to believe this is completely true. I want to believe that we can always make the world right again despite what other people may choose to do. I do believe that on an eternal timescale this is completely true, but for here and now, it isn’t. If I accidently strike a pedestrian and cripple him, I can only do so much to make it right again. It is this fact that Vampire universes force me to face. Sometimes people are landed in deep unscalable holes by other people. I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.

Fortunately I don’t live in a vampire universe. Instead I live in this one where I do all I can to make sure that my choices make the world a better place instead of a worse one. I try to convince others to do the same. And I have faith that all the unfairnesses that I am unable to correct will be balanced and made better hereafter.

Early this summer my friend Janci and I hatched a plan to take my kids to see some sights in downtown Salt Lake. We both loved the idea. Today was the day. As today drew closer my enthusiasm waned a little as I started thinking about the practicalities of finding parking and herding children in a city which is only vaguely familiar. I’ve been to Salt Lake often in my life, but I’m not usually the one doing the driving or parking.

An outing for my kids to see sites of interest is not about me enjoying the trip. I did get snatches of enjoyment, but mostly I spent the whole trip making sure that it worked for everyone else. I succeeded. Everyone declared that they had a good time. This kids now have a whole pile of new things to think about. Although the highlight for them was not Temple Square or the LDS Conference center. The thing that they loved was the fountain at the Gateway mall where they were allowed to run through shooting streams of water and get soaking wet. Unfortunately I was not at my best for the trip home. I was hot, and tired, and hungry, and grumpy because I went to go get the car while Janci and Drew watched the kids. It was much easier than requiring cranky children to march 8 blocks back to where the car was parked.

We took a tour of the LDS Conference Center, which is an amazing building. There was much to see and admire. I’d like to go back sometime when I don’t have to spend the whole time telling Gleek and Patches to slow down or hurry up or stop climbing on that. They were drawn like little metal filings to the magnet of water. Every drinking fountain had to be sampled. Every fountain had to be touched. Once we got to the rooftop gardens, Gleek was up to her elbows in any water she could find. Our poor tour guide wasn’t sure what to do with us. We all wanted to scatter and look at different things. She wanted us to stand politely near her and hear her rehearsed spiel. Oh well. Mostly I figure I’m running my kids through these historical places so that when they encounter them again at a more receptive age, they’ll greet them with some familiarity. I love Temple Square now because I have layer upon layer of visits to remember. For many of those visits I was the child running pell-mell through the building and complaining that my legs were tired.

I would have loved to walk slowly and admire the art and architecture. Instead I tried to make sure that the kids didn’t break any of it or alarm other people by jumping off of it. Some day I will leave my children with someone else and I’ll go tour Temple Square by myself so that I can admire without having to bend to some one else’s priorities. At least the kids did show reverence in the Conference Hall and in the Temple Square visitor’s center Christus room. Those places seem to draw reverence out of people. Even Gleek walked in there rather than skipping. At least for a moment anyway.

The Gateway mall was the right place to end the trip. It was a long walk for the kids, but the fountain at the end was worth it. I left them there to play under the watchful eyes of Janci and Drew, while I went to get lunch. Then again when I went to retrieve the car. They had a blast and were soaking wet by the time I picked them all up. Gleek was even screaming at the top of her lungs at being prevented from running through the fountain again. Fortunately Janci had the situation thoroughly under control and seemed unruffled at Gleek’s display. It is nice to have friends who know how to deal with my kids.

The trip back to the van was more adventuresome than I wanted, but it underscored to me how kind people can be. I arrived back at the van to discover that we’d left the sliding door wide open. I’d been gone for hours and not a thing was missing from the vehicle. I pulled out and realized that despite the many signs declaring that I either needed cash or a token to get out of the garage, I had neither. My car was hostage. Drew and Janci both had cash, but I’d left them with the kids. I parked again and went in search of an ATM. The reason I needed cash was because the parking garage is under the LDS Conference center. There would be no ATM on church property. The nearest ATM was probably at the ZCMI center two blocks away. I’d just walked 8 blocks. I was not excited about walking more and being late. I was also berating myself for being dumb enough to be in this position. I exited the parking garage elevator and passed a kind looking lady in the hall. She was wearing a badge, so I asked her if she knew where the closest place to get cash was. She gave me a look and beckoned me to follow her. As we walked she said “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, but I have a token you can have.” She led me through a door to where her car was parked and gave me the token. She did not have to give me the token. I have no idea why she decided I wasn’t “just anyone.” She could have just confirmed that the mall was the best place. Instead she gave me a little bit of her time and kindness. To her the token itself meant nothing. She works there and gets them for free. To me that token meant $10 not spent on parking and 20 minutes not spent in a tiring search for an ATM machine. I thanked her with tears in my eyes. My thanks were more for the kindness than the token.

I can still picture that token lying in my hand. It was a small golden coin which had no value for anything but release from the garage. I wish I could have kept it to remind me that people can be kind to strangers for no reason at all. Of course I couldn’t. I had to surrender the token to escape from the garage. The gift of a garage token did not save my life, nor change my life. It was not a dramatic event. It was just a small thing that made my day better. I have received a random act of kindness. Now it is my turn to do the same sort of thing for someone else. I can’t just do it once and consider my obligation paid, all debts incur interest. If we all pay out more kindness than we receive the world becomes that much better for us all.

Today I am angry and frustrated because of decisions that someone else made. This means that I am angry at the pair of people who made the decisions. I am not a keeper of grudges. I believe that harboring anger will only hurt me without helping situations at all. This is particularly true since I know that there was no intent to harm. But this does not prevent me from getting angry, it just means that there is a process that I have to work through so that I can let go of the anger and forgive.

Step one is to minimize the damage. For this particular instance, I’m still working on this. I won’t know until next week exactly how much damage was done to me and mine. Right now I’m doing all in my power to make sure the damage is as small as possible. Hopefully the only damage will be additional stress that my family had to cope with. Part of minimizing damage is to not communicate with the people in question. I also need to not spill all the details and names in a place where they can be hurt by it. There will be a time later to talk, but I need to not be actively angry.

Step two is to assess the situation. Here I assess how much damage was done and how that affects other things. I have to decide whether I believe that the incident was a single unfortunate event or indicative of a larger pattern that needs to be addressed. I decide whether preserving a relationship with the people is important. Sometimes the best solution is to drop the relationship. If the person is someone I have to deal with on a long term basis (family, or coworker, or neighbor) then the option to abandon the relationship is absent or very complicated. In that case I have to decide how to speak to the person about the issue. Hopefully the problem can be resolved and will never happen again. If the issue can not be permanently resolved, then I have to take action to minimize or negate future damage should the same problem re-occur. The key here is that I take time to look at the situation from all angles before taking actions.

Step three is to actually put into action the plans I made in step two.

Hopefully somewhere in the process I can let go of the anger and forgive. Contrition from the other party really helps with that, but isn’t critical. It is possible to let the anger go even if the other people are unrepentant.

Note: I always read this kind of entry and wonder “was it me that made her mad?” If you are asking that question it isn’t you. I don’t believe the people in question read my journal. If you have ever commented here, it isn’t you. If you have never met me in person it isn’t you. If you see me regularly, it isn’t you. If you’re still wondering, you can email me username at livejournal.com and I’ll tell you that it isn’t you.

The closet in the boy’s room is full of shevles. This is a good thing because my boys have lots of space to store their stuff. Unfortunately Link and Patches’ idea of cleaning up is to shove everything onto the shelves at random. If something falls off the shelf, they shrug and walk away. If I catch them doing this, they’ll pick the toy up and shove it back on in a slightly different location. We had reached the point where the shelves were shoved so full of precarious piles that adding anything created an avalanche. It was time to clean.

I decided to clean without the help of my boys. In theory the ideal way to do this would be to make them help me sort and teach them how to decide what needs to go. That would be a good thing to do, but I really did not want to spend hours arguing over keeping scraps of paper. I grabbed a garbage bag and started to clean when they were not paying attention. I started by scraping everything off the shelves into a gigantic pile in the middle of the room. It took me two days to sort through that pile. I threw out broken toys. I accumulated a pile of toys to give to thrift stores. These were the toys that never get played with. They just get scattered when the kids are looking for something else. I threw out scraps of paper and old school worksheets. I am confident that neither boy will ever miss any of the things I got rid of. I sorted pieces of games so that they are back together and playable. I put sets of toys together. I placed everything neatly on the shelves so that the boys can find the things that they want.

Link came in when I was part way through this process. He was delighted to be able to find all of the pieces to toys in the same locations. He thanked me several times for the cleaning work I had done. I’m glad he was so happy. I was a little worried that he’d freak out because I went through his stuff. But apparently being able to find toys to play with is worth the risk that Mom might have gotten rid of something.

Patches is also pleased at the new state of his room. Now hopefully we can teach the boys that “Put it away” doesn’t mean “Shove it on a shelf at random.”

A couple of days ago Howard declared his readiness for summer to be over. He is tired of hot and would like to have some cooler weather. I would also like to have the weather cool down a bit, but I don’t know that I am ready for Fall to arrive.

Fall means the kids going back to school. The past two years have been tough school years and I am drained. Theoretically this on will be easier, but my subconscious won’t believe that until it is an established fact. Kiki starts junior high this year and I can’t believe that transition will be entirely smooth. Link is going into 4th grade, which tends to be a tough year for kids. It is particularly tough for kids who sometimes struggle academically. Gleek is going into first grade. She had so much trouble adapting to Kindergarten and first grade is so different. In hindsight part of Gleek’s struggles with Kindergarten were due to a less-than-stellar teacher. I hope she gets a good teacher this year. Patches will have his first experiences with preschool. I hope that he loves it. It is never fun to try to detach a young child that is barnacled to my leg.

Fall also means a return to a schedule that I do not control completely. This is probably good news considering the shambles of my intended summer schedule. I look forward to more schedule so that my days can regain a rhythm. I look forward to regular times when I’ll have a reduced number of kids in my care.

Fall means cooler weather and longer nights. I like Fall weather. I like changing colors and falling leaves. But I can not forget that Fall is followed by the hard cold gray winter. I fear winter. I’m not entirely sure why I fear winter. I’m not afraid of cold. I like snow. But there is never enough bright sunlight. Last winter I consciously did some things to alleviate winter blues. They helped and I got through. I’ll do the same thing this year. I feel like I’ve talked myself into having Seasonal Affective Disorder. In my case it can’t qualify as a disorder because it does not interfere with things I want to do. Yes I had a really bad winter in 1999. Yes I’ve had a dip in my moods every winter ever since. Shouldn’t I be over this by now? I’ve done piles of emotional purging and sorting and examining. All of that is supposed to make it better. And yet I can not deny that I feel dread at the thought of oncoming winter. I dread Fall because winter follows it. As hot and miserable as the weather has been lately, a piece of me wants to stay right here because it is as far from winter as I can get. (Staying in Spring would be even better, but apparently that isn’t allowed either.)

Hmm. All of these things have been lurking in the shadows at the back of my brain. Pulling them out here into the light where I can look at them makes me much more comfortable with the impending Fall. Four weeks of summer schedule left.

I have run out of distractions.

All weekend I was so busy being stressed about getting Howard ready for Comic Con that I successfully ignored the fact that he was leaving. Leaving as in going to be gone. For a whole week. Denial was my friend then.

Today Distraction has been my friend. Within 30 minutes of Howard’s departure, his sister arrived with her two kids. She helped me clean my kitchen and talked to me about all kinds of stuff and then fed everyone pizza. It was truly wonderful. Then there was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That occupied me until dinnertime. Then I announced to the kids that they could have a movie slumber party in the family room. I turned on a video for them and went upstairs to watch my own movie on my mini player.

Now the movie is over and it is time for bed and Howard isn’t home yet. In fact he’s still in the process of going away since he’ll get up in the morning and go even farther. I’m going to need more books and movies. I can tell.

Yesterday definitely qualified as Not A Good Day. All the pre-convention stress erupted and left both Howard and I as emotional wrecks. The kids were frequently snapped at. By afternoon we were stressed beyond functioning, but Howard was 90% ready to go.

Things turned around at 3pm when the mailman delivered Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I let Howard have first read, while I opted to dive into a re-read of Half-Blood Prince. What a beautiful calm evening we spent in a world of muggles and wizards. This is why we need fiction. Sometimes the only way to make this world better is to step out of it for awhile. Then we can come back and deal with what is here.

In addition to Harry Potter, we had a wonderful visit from an old friend. We knew him way back when we were engaged, but lost track of him during the intervening years. It was fun to catch up, reminisce, and eat a yummy dinner all at the same time.

Today I get my chance at Deathly Hallows. I’ll be back when I know how it ends.

Last year the Sci Fi channel ran a mini-series called The Lost Room. Howard and I rented the two discs of it through Netflix and we were not at all disappointed. It is a tightly written, fascinating little universe that still has me speculating about alternate outcomes and what I would do if I were in the universe. The ending is satisfying while still leaving the series open to sequels. I don’t think I’m interested in sequels to this series. I like it the way it is with some of the mysteries remaining mysterious. If they try to unravel it all and explain everything, they’d likely ruin it.

Anyway I highly recommend The Lost Room.