On the Couch

My budding feminist

2008-07-19T11:50:00.001-07:00

My 3 year old and her dad were in a parking lot where they found a butterfly which had met its demise. M wanted to pick it up and admire it, but as she held it, one of its wings broke. Her father looked down and saw the damaged wing saying, "Ohhh, poor little guy."

M lamented with him."Yeah, poor little guy...wait. Dad? Why does it have to be a guy? Can't it be a woman?"

I love my daughter.

Going Back

2008-03-07T13:24:00.001-08:00

One day (soon I hope) I will write more fully about last fall's dramatic events which included the birth of my second daughter. But for now I will just say that since September, I have existed in another plane of existence. In some ways it was just a really fucked up babymoon. Instead of quiet, lazy days spent nursing my new born, cuddling and getting to know her, I went daily to visit her in the NICU and spent hours of my time not with her pumping milk. This was my experience with her for the first 7 weeks of her life.

And now she is home with us. She is well. She is beautiful. She is growing. She was a gift too easily given and I sometimes wait for the other shoe to drop. Because despite weighing less than 2 lbs at birth at 28 weeks, she has had zero complications. Her biggest hurdle has just been to GROW!! (This week we made it to 10lbs 6oz!)

I have now had lots of time (and then some) to be home with her (it's been nearly 4 months since she came home) but now the party's over. It's time to return to life as a working mama. Monday I go back to providing services to victims of sexual and physical assault, which is work I love. But the clinical hat feels a little clunky right now. My emotions over all that transpired are still a little raw at times and I hope I can get back to the part of me that remembers how to do basic crisis counseling (without also needing crisis counseling!)

I know life returning to "normal" after all we experienced is a good thing, but it feels a little shaky.

What I can't do

2008-02-29T11:27:00.000-08:00

Sitting in the car with M the other day, we played with a "toy" she got from a Chick-fil-a. Their toys are almost annoyingly educational. Actually, I appreciate them for that, but it's hard not to laugh a little. This time, the prize was a plastic D ring with flippable cards for each of the presidents. Her set was somewhere between Woodrow Wilson and Harry Truman.

Watching her play with it I thought about my feminist ideals. I thought about how far we've not come though we pretend we have just because now it's cool for girls to play soccer. Her father and I can raise her to believe she can do and be whatever she wants, that there are no barriers in this world to achieving whatever kinds of greatness she can imagine. We can raise both of our girls as if sexism no longer exists. And while that's certainly not true, I guess some part of me wanted to ignore it as if it never existed. Because if girls never know we have been treated differently, there is no need to prove anything, no over compensating. There is just being a woman in a world where everyone has an equal shot.

And yet, when I looked at that group of men who've presided over this country I realized that there is nothing I can do to hide that from her. It's almost embarrassing to me when I imagine really teaching her our history. As if I hope she won't notice that women are conspicuously absent.

Baby's First Narrative

2008-02-29T11:18:00.000-08:00

This week, in the car...
M [very seriously]: Mama, I have something I need to tell you.
Me: [turning off the radio]: Okay, M. What's up?
M: When you had a baby in your tummy, your belly was big. Then the baby came out of your tummy, then you were sick, then you were in the hospital, then the baby was in the hospital, then you came home, then daddy picked me up in the Orange Tigers classroom because I was three years old (a reference to moving to the next class up when she turned 3).

This all happened 5 months ago but it is the first time she has really brought it up since then. Suddenly, she needed to process that experience.

Racism is alive and kicking

2008-02-16T08:26:00.000-08:00

...in Central Kentucky.

On Thursday I went to M's Valentine's Day party to join in the festivities. I sat down next to the only other visitor that day, a woman who appeared to be someone's grandma. I sat and chatted politely with her about nothing in particular, watching with masked anxiety as my child smeared cupcake icing all over herself. Then grandma proceeded to tell me that every time she comes to visit, her grandson is always sitting next to a "little (whispered) B-L-A-C-K girl."

I really didn't have words for this. "MMmmm" was about all I could muster.

Her explanation for such seemingly peculiar behavior was that as a baby her grandson was taken care of by a "very nice, old (again whispered, but not spelled out) black woman. That must be why he likes her so much. So cute."

But I didn't believe her. She didn't think it was cute at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure she was masking anxiety, too. Only it wasn't about the kind of mess you can clean up with soap and water.

[Best responses I could have had?
1. Oh, her? That's my daughter Zahara!
2. Well, I hope they never play doctor. You know she'd probably get pregnant even though she's only 5.
3. Wow - a real live racist! I've heard about you, but I really thought you were just a myth, like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy...only a really twisted tooth fairy who rips your teeth out in the middle of your sleep, leaving only a bloody hole and a wooden nickle.

Anyone else?]

Baby's First Simile

2008-02-15T12:43:00.000-08:00

On the way to daycare yesterday, M looked out the car window and observed, "Mama, that pond is frozen like fish sticks."

(Incidentally, this makes something like the 12th mention of fish sticks in the last few days. It seems that since her tonsillectomy, the thing she misses most is her beloved cod.)

If I can remember how...

2008-02-15T12:14:00.000-08:00

Maybe I'll try this again. Sort of got busy...buying a house, dealing with a unexplained medical condition, getting pregnant, almost dying and having my (2nd) child 3 months early.

So...now what?

The results are in...

2006-05-20T19:51:00.000-07:00

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic

At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung

You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping

Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

By the way, I don't entirely agree with this assessment since I don't drink coffee unless it's decaf. I'm disappointed this test didn't reveal that really I'm a Green Tea kinda girl.

No More Hives

2006-05-15T13:44:00.000-07:00

More about hives...

2006-05-02T12:30:00.000-07:00

My new doctor, who I love and who is an internist, determined that my thyroid levels were elevated (4.18) and that I am positive for thyroid antibodies. There is sometimes a link between those events and hives. Who knows why? But she wants me to start on Synthroid and see what happens. I do appreciate the "whole body" approach to illness.

An update and FLOW

2006-04-27T07:37:00.000-07:00

It's been a difficult month for me. Lots of sickness - by that I mean unexplained hives. I'm itching all over and don't know why. For 6 long weeks. Also, the sitter has been ill and in the hospital briefly. It makes me worry about how much longer she'll be ok to keep kids. I realised I have taken off almost a full week's worth of time this month, scattered here and there, for various doctor's appointments, or to keep my daughter while the sitter was ill. And tomorrow I am taking off to take the LCSW exam. It's a lot of pressure in some ways because failing it means doing it again in several months. But at this point I just want to get it over with. And I doubt I'll fail.

As for other aspects of life, my overriding concern is for our future. I am ready for change. Question is, what kind? The kind that involves a major life alteration (new state, new jobs, new child care, good bye to friends and family) or the kind that involves keeping most of our life the same BUT buying a house in a nearby town. The problem is that making these changes with another person (i.e. a spouse) is tricky. You have to agree about your values and goals, desires, etc. And you have to find a way to work together that encourages building momentum towards change.

An interesting article I just read (and I will very soon learn how to create links) reagrds FLOW. This excerpt describes an example of flow:

IMAGINE THAT YOU ARE SKIING DOWN A SLOPE and your full attention is focused on the movements of your body, the position of the skis, the air whistling past your face, and the snow-shrouded trees running by. There is no room in your awareness for conflicts or contradictions; you know that a distracting thought or emotion might get you buried face down in the snow. The run is so perfect that you want it to last forever.

He goes on to describe it as a "sense of effortless action they feel in moments that stand out as the best in their lives." I can say I have felt this in moments while singing or playing clarinet in the band. But also when leading a group discussion that goes well, or taking a great hike. In a sense, I also felt this way during the time in my life when I first decided to leave my home state and move 2000 miles away to the West. I knew exactly what I was doing, what I wanted, and felt confident that I would get there. I never doubted, I never questioned, I had faith that all would work out once I got there. And it did, although I was admittedly naive about some aspects of it. But I was single and childless and I made a one year commitment (to VISTA) so it was virtually risk-free as far as I could see.

Now things are much more complicated. I feel no sense of flow about this at all. One moment I am ready to pack my bags and take great risks to move with my family back to that great Western State. The next I am paralized by fear of unknowns, of hurting our family financially, emotoionally and leaving my family (with a sick father) in a dark cloud. This is the opposite of flow.

And (I know this post lacks flow, too!) I wonder if simply finding more flow in daily life wouldn't be helpful. I find I have very little time for these kinds of activities. I'd like to do more meditation/yoga, but it will take time to get good enough at it that I actually am "in the zone " and not just watching the clock. (I am a neurotic clock watcher, it's true. I am experimenting with wearing it less.)

I would be interested to know if other folks find flow regularly and how they do it. I think it's important because, as the author of the article says, "The happiness that follows flow is of our own making, and it leads to increasing complexity and growth in consciousness." I mean who doesn't want growth in consciousness?

So, audience of probably one, what do you think about flow and it's implications in our lives?

P.S. I sometimes wish my audience of one wasn't my spouse. How else am I supposed to process the inner workings of our relationship if you're reading this??

P.P.S. Another thought to discuss, how do bloggers negotiate this sticky world of privacy in an increasingly PUBLIC world of blogs, myspaces, chat rooms, etc?? Do you forfeit privacy by posting in the first place?

Decisions, decisions...

2006-03-31T08:18:00.000-08:00

Here's an article that may interest anyone who studies decision theory or who has ever given much thought to the decision making process. Certainly I have been obsessed with that lately and have put a lot of thought into the 'right way' to approach the big decisions my husband and I are making right now.

Basically, the gist is that for the most complex decisions (with lots of factors, options, etc.) poeple tend to make better decisions (i.e. be happier with them in the long run) when they gather all the information, go do something else for awhile, and then make their decision. In other words, following our gut is a lot more helpful in the long run.

However, the opposite seems to be true when making a simpler decision. When fewer factors are involved, (say choosing the best writing utensil at Office Max...oooh, or choosing the best weekly planner, now that's a decision!) it's best to carefully weigh the pros and cons and make a more rational decision.

I find this incredibly fascinating. (Of course I do, why I else would I bother posting?)

Kiss My Ass, Pedophile... or Why I Will Not Take My Family to Visit my Mom and Her Husband.

2006-03-31T08:00:00.000-08:00

You know how much I hate those people who start a blog with one post and then never follow through? Well, I worried I was in danger of becoming of of them...and then my mother emailed me and the inspiration to write was re-awakened within me.

My mother is married to a pedophile. There's no pretty way to talk about that. I can't sugar-coat it. She lives a few hours away and is welcome to visit us (read, her granddaughter) anytime (well, with limits). But there's no way in hell we are going to visit her (and him) there. She was informed of this fact (his exclusion from our lives) long before said granddaughter's conception. And yet she keeps pushing him into our lives. For instance, he unexpectedly showed up at our daughter's first birthday party.

And now, mom is making not-so-subtle remarks about looking forward to when we can send Maia to her house for a visit by herself. Hear me now, mother: NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. EVER.

Also, she has invited us all down to her house for a visit. And so I have been forced to once again open the big, dark, ugly, squirmy bag of worms and explain all over again that he will have no part in our daughter's life. These boundaries are for our girl's sfety and our peace of mind. And it's just silly for my mom to not understand this fact.

I guess I'm bothering to write all this out to reassure myself that I am doing the right thing here. I feel at this point ready to sacrifice my relationship with my mom over this point, and while that seems harsh or sad, it has to be this way. She is married to a (at best) untrustworthy fellow and (at worst) a dangerous man who has committed a most heinous crime on his own child. I want no part of his life. My mom can not have both.

Where I'd like to be

2006-03-13T19:19:00.000-08:00

A beginning

2006-03-13T07:41:00.000-08:00

So here I am. My husband nagged me into this. (or at least I'm blaming him.)
First task: decide which blog template best defines me as a person. Drumroll please...the "plain jane"!!

Now that that has been decided (along with the agonizing decisions regarding the blog name* and my posting signoature) I can get on with the work at hand.

*By the way, it's so annoying to pick out the best name only to find out some other schmuck has already thought of it and is not actively using their damn blog in the first place.

So what is the work at hand, you ask? Well, primarily this is for me (that's what they all say, right? But secretly we all hope for a small but loyal group of anonymous blog fans [blans?] who will read us faithfully). So the piece of this that is for me is to process my life's work as a mother, wife, and social worker. Also, currently, our family is in a crisis of indecision which pretty much takes up all my mind's energy when it isn;t actively engaged in something else. So I feel like I need a sounding board for the ever-changing perspectives in my mind.

Also, I hope to figue out things like how to link to articles and other sites (so I can share with my audience of one.)