Uncategorized

Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. I step out of my routine and spend more time in contemplation of things beyond my daily existence. It is good to have this emotional and spiritual resetting once per week. Today, like the rest of this week, did not fit the normal schedule. This meant a two-hour-long meeting early in the day rather than a block of three one-hour meetings in the afternoon. The afternoon stretched out in front of me and I made use of it to relocate the contents of Howard’s office back where they belong. We’ve put everything into place. There will be a blog with pictures next week sometime. It feels really good to be putting things back. And Howard’s new work space is very nice. I am jealous of his window. My office doesn’t have one. So I guess this Sunday was spent in a physical reset rather than an emotional/spiritual one. Unfortunately the rest of the house still has significant cluttering and needs clean-up. I’d vow to tackle it tomorrow, but tomorrow is the big shipping day.

Tomorrow is the big shipping day and I am not a frazzled ball of stress. I attribute this both to the wonderful help that I got from Janci and also to sufficient experience to finally teach my brain that panic is not a necessary component of this process. Also I think I’ve been relying on displacement and denial. If I don’t think about shipping it will all be okay right? Truth is that I’ve spent a lot of time planning and prepping for shipping over the last month. Janci has spent as much or more. There is no preparation left to do. Now I just need to trust myself rather than fretting endlessly about what I missed. And yet, I think I will be a lot more relaxed/happy once the packages are all sent.

It looks like Howard’s office will be done within then next hour or so. This will be a great relief. As home improvement projects go this one has been relatively painless. True we’ve been tripping over extra furniture, and tracking plaster dust constantly, and the job took four full days rather than just three, but compared with the many construction horror stories I’ve heard, this one was simple. It was certainly better than attempting to do the job ourselves. We simply don’t have access to the array of power tools that the contractor hauled in and out of our house. Nor do we have the years of experience that make the job routine rather than a learning adventure. Some day we may venture into the realms of do-it-yourself home renovation, but for now I’m glad to just contribute to the economy by paying someone more capable to do the work. I’ll be even gladder when we can get Howard moved in and our family schedule can return tonormal.

I am by nature an organizer of things. I am not so good at maintaining the things that I have organized, but the organization itself is very satisfying. I have reached the end of the first week of summer and while my intended schedule has not fallen apart completely, it is definitely not quite the same as it was on Monday. I am choosing to blame this fact on the general air of chaos which always attends a home remodeling project. Furniture is out of place and there is a fine layer of plaster dust all over everything. At least the scent of fresh paint from the office tells me that the project is drawing to a close. It should be complete tomorrow. Then I can organize things again. All of Howard’s stuff can be removed from the playing spaces. All of the dust and detritus can be cleaned up. Even better, today Janci and I organized all of the postage and boxes and merchandise for Monday’s shipping event. Soon all of that stuff will leave my house forever. I hope that the creation of order in my house will help with the creation of order in my mind, because this counting down the days until the kids go back to school is not a healthy mental place to be. I need to find ways for all of us to enjoy this time we are in. I need to find enjoyment in each day as it passes. I need to not let the stresses obscure the happinesses.

Strike a pose. Then hold that pose for 5 minutes. It is likely that some part of your body will become fatigued or uncomfortable before the five minutes are over. Not only that, but you will likely have shifted your position. The hand that was at shoulder height somehow drifted downward and the bent knee is straighter than when you began. This is something like the experience of creating a family schedule out of nothing. I decide exactly when meals will be, when friends are allowed in the house, when work will be done, when kids must go to bed, etc. I lay it all out in a list and it looks great. But as I start to implement it, I find that getting out of bed on time is hard when I know that no one will notice if I let everyone sleep just a few minutes more. In fact they’ll complain if I make them get up, but not if I let them sleep. So breakfast slides later into the day, and sometimes lunch gets missed entirely, and I decide not to interrupt the quiet play to make the kids do work. Bit by bit the schedule falls apart.

I’ve learned a lot about building schedules out of nothing. I’ve learned not to build the equivalent of a pose where you hold a hammer out at arms length. Instead I build a schedule that keeps both feet flat on the floor and if possible involves sturdy props that I can use to support weight and promote balance. This summer my external prop is swim lessons. I’ve scheduled six weeks of them. They run from 11 to noon and provide an immovable break in the middle of the day. The morning is given over to work and the afternoon is much more free-form. To provide additional structure in the mornings, I’ve created a chart and sets of lists so that the kids know exactly what is required of them before they are allowed video games or friends. This schedule is also planned around the fact that Howard generally works at home in the mornings and at Dragon’s Keep in the afternoons. The mornings will be quieter to facilitate him working. The afternoons can be noisier when it will not bother him.

After two days I can already see where the strains of the new schedule will be. Or at least I think I can. It is hard to tell because this week is far from routine. We’ve got the garage full of books and the entire contents of Howard’s office crammed into the family room. Right now the biggest problem with the schedule is a significant lack of uninterrupted time for me. Also, I don’t have much alone space either. This is particularly true with Howard evicted from his office. He wanders about the house at loose ends. I like that he is available to talk more, except when I’m trying to hide from people and recuperate. I think these issues will be much less significant once we get Howard moved back into his space and the books shipped off to customers. Then I’ll have time to figure out how to get me out of the house often enough to keep me from going completely stir crazy.

It helps that our summer is pre-sprinkled with events to keep kids busy. Girls’ camp, scout camp, pioneer trek, space camp, cousin visits, a family reunion, and the trip to Worldcon will provide sufficient interest. Even better, most of these activities are already paid for by fund raising activities that the kids participated in over the last few months. Add in a few day trips and we’ve got the family schedule taken care of. Fortunately most of these activities leave a big empty space in the middle of July, which is right when we expect XDM to arrive. Every thing is lined up to work out fine. I just need to get through this next week of disorganization. Fortunately for me, I’m allowed to shift things around if the pose schedule is getting too tiring.

I’m too tired to form today into a story, so I’m throwing the thoughts from my head into this entry in the hopes that then my head will have more space in it.

One day of summer schedule down, 79 days to go. I never wanted to be the mom who moans and groans about summer. I wanted to be the mom who is delighted to have her kids at home so that she can plan bajillions of cool outings and activities. But the truth is, while outings and activities are fun, they are also exhausting. If I plan too many, I quickly wear out and turn very cranky. The kids get cranky too. And we’re all introverts who function best if we have time alone. Time alone is in very short supply when we’re all in the house all day long. I’ve grown accustomed to having several hours each week day when I remove the mom hat completely so that I can focus on other things. Today felt like an unending stream of interruptions.

The schedule went well. I know that it did. But the first day of a new schedule is always exhausting. We started our day at 8 am with a breakfast that half the kids didn’t want to eat. Then I posted the individualized chore lists and announced that breakfast to lunch was a no-video-game zone. But if they finished their chores in the morning they could video game and play with friends in the afternoon. Gleek plowed her way through the chores as something to do while she waited for swim lessons. Link and Patch spent the entire day playing quietly in their room. Neither of them did their chores. They’ll be surprised tomorrow to discover that the chores are cumulative. Eventually they’ll want video games and friends enough to do the work. Swim lessons worked as planned.

I guess the hardest bit of the day was getting to the afternoon and realizing that I had to find the energy to begin emptying Howard’s office. The contractor will be showing up first thing Wednesday to remove closet walls, plaster, paint and refloor. It will take more than one day. Emptying Howard’s office is tiring because of all the thinking. I’m trying to sort as I go so that the only things that go back into his office are the ones that really belong there. I’ve already hauled away much garbage. Some things have been handed over to kids. Some things are to be given away/donated. And some things are for keeping. Tomorrow is the big move-out day.

On Sunday I attended the pre-funeral viewing for a step-uncle. I did not know him well, so I did not have my own grieving to do, but I knew that he made my aunt very happy for the five years they were married. His death was sudden and unexpected. I was there for her because I love her and wanted her to know that I cared enough to come. The event was strangely like a family reunion. It was full of Utah relatives that I’ve not seen in years. People would come up to me, hug me, and know exactly who I was, but I had not a clue about them or how they were related to me. Even people I did know well when I was younger had been altered by the decade that has passed since I last saw them. And there was this pervasive sense of guilt, not from anyone else only inside my own head. I don’t live far away from any of these relatives, and yet I don’t make time to visit with them. Of course I’m not too good about getting together with local siblings either, so perhaps I shouldn’t feel bad about neglecting uncles, aunts, and cousins. The big family reunion is at the end of the month, we’ll swing by then and catch up I guess.

Today I:

Made waffles for breakfast because the kids love them and I haven’t made them in a long time.

Required the kids to do chores like lawn mowing and cleaning up their rooms. And they did so without complaining much.

Paid a bounty on every toy that the kids were willing to get rid of so that they would have more space in their closets. Link got rid of nothing because everything was precious. Patch gave me a whole pile because he is very focused on earning money for a lego set that he wants.

Went shopping with Kiki to buy her some new skirts for church and ended up buying her several pairs of pants as well.

Found an elegant skirt that fits me and reminds me of the swirling skirts that Grace Kelly wore in High Society. This may be what I wear for Hugo Night, if I can find an elegant top to match. Or maybe it won’t, if I find a dress I like better. The skirt cost $5.

Took Kiki along with me to the grocery store where we laughed and teased each other while collecting everything on the list and forgetting to buy milk.

Made banana pudding which reminds me of my childhood.

Cleaned up the family room so that we can take Howard’s office apart to give it new paint and flooring.

Attended a neighborhood potluck dinner and dance. The whole thing was outdoors. It was a family event, which made the dance much nicer. Somehow getting out there to dance feels much less threatening when half the dancers are children who’ve dragged their parents out on to the floor.

Mused upon the wonderful neighbors I have, who make their yards as beautiful as any reception center you’ve ever seen and then happily share those beautiful spaces with everyone.

Had lovely conversations with several long-time neighbor friends with whom I’ve not had much time to talk lately.

Watched Gleek jump on a trampoline, dance, and generally run around delighted with the whole event.

Danced to an array of tunes from the bunny hop, to the limbo, to that YMCA song, to the Macarena, to I Like to Move It. There were swing tunes, and disco tunes, and just about anything else you can imagine. It was fun to watch as representatives of different generations taught dance moves to each other.

Found Howard patiently teaching Link some basic volleyball bumps and hits.

Watched as Link practiced hits with a girl two years his junior for almost an hour. He had a marvelous time. Several younger children joined them and Link was marvelously patient and encouraging to the kids. He is a good arranger of games.

Was one of the last people to leave the party because I helped clean up and I was as reluctant to have the party over as the kids were. There is something magical about an outdoor party in perfect breezy spring weather. Particularly after dark when the lawns and fountains are illuminated by strings of warm white lights.

Had a beautiful day.

School is out and my yard is filled with children. For awhile we had representatives of five families out there, but now we’re down to three. At some point I will need to haul my crew indoors and make them eat dinner, but it is so nice to just let them play. There is no schedule, no where to be in the morning. We’re all stretching out a little with the whole summer ahead of us. By Monday I will need to begin imposing some structure or we’ll all start being really cranky cooped up in the house together. But today is allowed to be structureless and it feels good.

“I need to go check my tooth!” Patch announced as we walked in the door from Kindergarten. He dashed upstairs to his room. I wasn’t really paying attention. I thought he might be running for a mirror to check on the progress of the wiggly tooth in his mouth. But then the crying started. Patch was in his room, with his pillow pulled back to reveal…nothing. “Mom, It’s gone!”
Thoughts cascaded into place. Something was missing from under Patch’s pillow. But he hadn’t lost a tooth recently. How long ago did he lose that first tooth? I remember writing about it being the last first tooth, but when was that exactly? A month ago? Two months ago? Why are we sad about it now? And then with a sinking feeling I realized that though I remember him losing the tooth, I do not remember ever replacing the tooth with money in approved tooth fairy fashion. In fact I remember forgetting the first night and promising to do better. But I must not have. I forgot. And he forgot. Until today, when he remembered to check. We found the tooth where it had slid under the bed.
“I’m sorry buddy. I’m not a very good tooth fairy. But you know what? I think that if you have to wait this long, you should get a whole dollar for that tooth.” The usual rate is a quarter. This pleases Patch.
“Can I keep the tooth?” he asks.
Of course he can keep the tooth. He can keep anything that will help this small rite of passage be a happy experience rather than a disappointing one. The first lost tooth and the magical appearance of money in exchange is one of those special moments of childhood. And I dropped the ball. I forgot.

When I was 13 years old my church youth group put on an Italian dinner as a service project. We were all to come dressed in Italian style clothes and I was assigned to bring the salad. I don’t remember how I occupied that day, but I do remember the last minute rush to get me to where I was supposed to be. I’d scrambled into my costume and arrived, breathless, apologetic for my lateness. My youth group leader simply asked where the salad was. I didn’t have it. I spilled over into more apologies and excuses, but she stopped me. I don’t remember her exact words, but I do remember standing in that kitchen, watching her pull salad fixings from her own fridge, and realizing with a sinking feeling that all the excuses in the world did not change the fact that I had been responsible for bringing the salad and I had not lived up to the responsibility. My leader salvaged the dinner I had nearly ruined, by stepping in to do the work that I should have done.

I know I have been busy these past few months, but all the explanations in the world does not change the fact that I forgot Patch’s tooth. If that were the only forgotten thing I would not feel so bad, but I just wrote a note of apology to Gleek’s piano teacher. I forgot to send Gleek to lessons several weeks in a row and then when I did send her she had not practiced. The result was pretty miserable for both Gleek and the teacher. Gleek will not be taking any more lessons until she wants them again. It may take several years before she wants them. The piano teacher has no idea what I am doing with my time. She does not know what I chose to do instead of requiring my child to practice daily. All the piano teacher knows is that I can not be reliably depended upon to help my child prepare for a weekly lesson. I fear my children’s school teachers have similar assessments of me. I fear their assessments are valid as I stare at a pile of worksheets that I never got around to making the kids do. It is fortunate that the one child for whom the grades really matter, has become very responsible about getting her own work done. I can’t go back and re prioritize. I don’t get a do over. All I can do is throw the worksheets away and plan to do better next year.

Don’t bother with excuses, take responsibility and make apologies. I’ve apologized to Patch about the tooth. I’ve apologized to all of my kids multiple times for all of the small times I was busy or distracted. The apologies soothe hurt feelings and provide closure, but for an apology to be truly effective, part of it must be a commitment not to do the same thing again. And so here I am, looking back and trying to figure out how to do things differently. I chose the projects that made my life so psychotically busy. I don’t regret those choices and the business opportunities that the choices will bring. But I need to also look squarely at the results of the choices so that I can plan for the future. In this case the damages are minimal. Our family has experienced some minor erosion due to extreme busy-ness. It will take a some repair effort to return the structure to its previous sturdy state. I need to make sure that the future holds repair and renewal rather than continued erosion.

In all of this I think the greatest damage was done inside my own head. Ever since that lesson I received as a 13 year old girl, I have been silently determined to be both dependable and reliable. These things are part of how I define myself. When I agree to do a task I want the other person to know that it will get done. This is all fine until I enter the area of implied agreement. When I put my kids into public school, I am giving the school and the teachers power to put tasks onto my To Do list. They assign homework and schedule events, both of which I am expected to support, no matter what else may be on my schedule. I attend a church which relies heavily on volunteers and social activities to run. The church often puts things onto my To Do list without explicit consent from me. Schlock Mercenary depends upon fans and customers who are all free to email and make requests without my prior consent. By participating in the larger organization I am giving implied consent to an endless stream of small To Do items. I can eschew the To Do lists, but not without injuring the social structure upon which these organizations rely. If I stop answering customer support emails, then the customer base will wither. If I stop attending church functions, then I will cease to be tied into that community. If I don’t come to my kid’s school events, I have failed to support that event and that child. And so this spring I had a perfect storm of things I had explicitly agreed to do and things I had implicitly agreed to do. I had 27-30 hours of stuff for each 24 hour day. It was impossible for me to accomplish it all, and so I didn’t. Now I am surrounded by evidence of commitments I failed to fulfill. This makes me feel quite bleak, particularly when the commitments are in high priority categories like “Nurturing the Children.”

I am left with the question “If I am not reliable, then who am I?” It is not a helpful question, but it looms in my head nevertheless. The need to scale back is obvious and already under way. But the emotional rebalancing is taking a bit longer. It took me this long to identify the effect these broken commitments were having on my emotional state. I will be very grateful for a fresh start next school year. In fact the fresh start begins tomorrow as we enter into the summer schedule.

This afternoon I spent 90 minutes just hanging out in the back yard with my kids. Patch and Gleek were in need of distraction, so we wandered around and picked flowers. Then we discovered that rosebud petals make beautiful little boats. We soon had a regatta of rose petal boats crewed by forget-me-not sailors crossing a sea of lawn. The last bleeding-heart flower was given a bachelor button hat and declared to be the queen. Kiki joined us and showered me with white flowers from the snowball bush. It was all very light-hearted which is not something I have been much of late. I could see the kids unwinding, just glad to have me there with them. Patch may always remember that mom forgot his first tooth under his pillow. I hope he will also remember the rose petal regatta, or something like it. It will give him a very real view of his human mother who sometimes fails at her commitments, but picks up again and tries to do better.

Today I identified part of the reason that Link has been fighting so hard against growing up. Every day that takes him into the future is one day closer to the time when his current teacher will not be his teacher anymore. Link does not want to leave fifth grade because he will leave behind something that is precious to him. We’ve talked about it, but I don’t have much comfort to offer. Link and I both know that visiting this teacher is not the same as being in the classroom with him every day. But identifying a source for the grief has actually done a lot to help calm Link down. He is very prone to displacement and often the displaced emotion goes into places where that emotion almost seems logical. It almost makes sense that Link be sad about Bestfriend moving away. To be in tears over it 3 years after the fact seems a little excessive, until you realize that Link is really sad about a parting that is looming in front of him. Then the returned grief at a previous parting begins to make sense.

I need to make more time for Link. He needs more snuggly, quiet spaces where he and I can talk through the thoughts in his head. I need to point out this realization to him so that he can see it too. Perhaps making this connection now will help him in the future to make his own connections.