NO Review, the blog
my
profile
first entry this year
first
blog
entry
NO
Review archive
NO
Review,
commented
October 29, 2011
Today I sit while B goes through the advanced
placement testing. Again. The kids were scheduled at
different times this morning, but fortunately our early morning kid was
the one scheduled for 8:30 am and our sleep-in kid scheduled for
10:30. It is clear to me that it is time to insist that A move to
the upper math class. And set up the kids for private testing so
that there is no question about his placement next year. I feel
like a failure as a parent for falling down on these two issues so
far. I can only imagine that they feel just as badly. I
know A feels bewildered for being "demoted" to the lower math
group. I know B was anxious last night about getting to sleep so
he could get a "good grade." Mostly I feel like I do a good job
parenting, but this school/grade/gifted/placement stuff has me all
twisted up. I have my own experience growing up, which tells me
that challenge and gifted programs and a parent advocating for your
academic success is a good thing. I have my Stanford experience,
which was fabulous, and something I want to gift to my kids
somehow. I have knowledge of the fixed and learning mindsets such
that I want to not only change my own tendencies towards the fixed
mindset, but also give a learning mindset to my kids as well. I
also watch other systems and the kids that prosper in them: the PYP/IB
program in the international school they attended, and the
homeschooling success of some of my friends. I simultaneously
believe that they will do fine in any system, and am not at all certain
that what I'm doing is the right thing. How do I give my kids the
happiness and love for learning I want them to have? How do I
ensure they follow and reach their dreams after they graduate from high
school, whatever those dreams may be? And given those goals, how
do I navigate these little decisions and choices that will have such a
big (but unknown) impact on the flow of their lives?
October 24, 2011
Today was the first day back after our return from
my 20th reunion. C and I went without the boys, borrowed a
two-seater convertible, stayed with friends, saw other friends, and
enjoyed the beautiful California weather and the reunion
activities. We had a lovely time. It was our first time
leaving the boys for any length of time. I think we would have
begun sooner except that we were on a different continent than their
grandparents for quite a while. It seemed to go just fine, though
I haven't gotten the detailed reports I had anticipated. The
times we called to talk to the kids they were busy and didn't want to
spend time on the phone with us. There was a bit of rescuing
pots, plates and utinsels from unaccustomed places this morning, but I
found my stove cleaned (a job above and beyond the call of duty that I
had been saving until after I canned the pears). Dad said before
they arrived that they had done this before and had every confidence
that it would go well and everyone would want to do it again, and so
far as I can tell it has proved true. I am looking forward to
sending the kids off for a week with their grandparents some summer,
and spending time with my husband again. We haven't been managing
our time in the evening without kids very well of late, and I'd like to
do better.
I am ready to make some changes. Sometimes I
get discouraged about how often I seem to be saying that. It does
feel like I've been getting better. It's also felt like it has
been a long time that I've been digging myself out of a pit. I
have been moving forward and upward, though, and I'm still gaining
ground. It has been a long slog for me this last year plus since
our return to the States. I don't have enough hindsight yet to
tell where I am in relation to where I was before we left, or where I
should be, or the shape of the graph or even the slope of this
curve. Still, I have the sense that the dips and backsliding that
occurs every month are not taking me all the way back. Until I
burned my foot four weeks ago (second degree burns on half of the top
of my right foot while juicing grapes), I was very consistent in my
running, and I'm working my way back to running during the boys'
practice MWF. I signed up for the Seattle Half Marathon during TG
weekend, so I need to get back to where I was pretty quickly.
As far as writing goes, I have had a number of
pushes that make me really want to invest the time in it again.
One was reading this Ira Glass quote and remembering what XX had to say
in _____ about 10,000 hours. One was reading about Lois McMaster
Bujold's early days as an unpublished author. Another was
listening to Michael Buckley speak to a roomful of kids about his early
years. Then C and I met with our financial advisor who had asked
us some standard questions about the next 5 and 10 years. I
haven't found a consistent time yet to sit and write, and I haven't
found a good place where I'm most successful, but I'd like writing to
be a regular and dependable part of my week again, and I am
experimenting to find that time and place. I was reminded that
November is coming soon, and therefore NaNoWriMo. But, I don't
feel like NaNoWriMo is the right kick in the pants for me. My
early notebook work with Natalie Goldburg books has left me without
worrying overmuch about the internal editor that the wordcount diarrhea
is supposed to alleviate. The carving out of time and the
understanding of one's family and friends for the new focus of one's
attention is something I'd like to come to a balance with for every
day, not for just 30 days; I don't want all the same pressures to come
snapping back redoubled after a calendar page is turned. In
addition, my success with NaNoWriMo has not been in November, so I plan
to forgo it again this year. But I'd really like to start banking
my hours -- I want to get better, I want to have my output match my
vision. And I know that the way to get there is to put in the
time.
June 28, 2011
Yesterday was the one year mark from C breaking his
back. It wasn't an anniversary he wanted to remark on or remember
in any way. But it has caused me to look back and remember what
was going on and where I was a year ago. I was gearing up for the
last couple weeks of school (and work at the school), in the process of
transferring my knowledge to paper for others to use, saying goodbyes
to close friends and neighbors, making plans for our last Dutch
adventures and our final European vacation, getting ready for the big
pack-up and move back to the States, enjoying the warmth of
long-awaited summery weather. It was a very different place from
here. I don't know if I have fully recovered from all of the
turmoil of big unanticipated changes on top of big changes.
That's not exactly the right way to say it. I think I have found
my balance, mostly, though I'm still not to where I want to be with all
the things I have done and want to do. The big changes of a year
ago have affected me, have changed me. I'm not the same person I
was when I left; none of us are. I think "recovered" implies
getting back to where you were before, and that's neither where I am
(even literally), nor what I expected.
I am feeling very positive about the present and
immediate future, however. I like the summer schedule. I
like that I am running regularly, more distance per week than I
remember ever doing on my own recognizance, and more regularly than
since high school. I like that I am combining that running with
recording and limiting what I eat to good effect, though I still have
10 more pounds I'd like to lose permanently. I like that we are
moving forward with some of our house projects (our fences are down at
the moment and getting put back up better than ever; I mapped out a new
deck), though the dishwasher's failure to work faster or better after
my wonderful fix has added impetus to our kitchen remodel. I like
that writing is closer to being a habit. I like that the kids are
almost 9 and 10 and both self-sufficient and snuggly. They need
me and don't need me in ways that feel comfortable and enjoyable.
I like the summer weather and available foods. I like that my
garden is growing (first strawberries picked Saturday, and flowers in
vases).
There's a lot scheduled this summer. Soccer
camps, training, practices, and tournaments. Visiting
friends. Clambake. My dad's 70th. The annual
car-painting, tie-dying, ethnic food pot-lucking game-playing
extravaganza. My niece's shower and wedding. We don't have
any camping trips on the agenda yet, but I'd like to squeeze them in
somewhere. I'd like to get a visit to the in-laws as well, but
that
will take a more concentrated section of time than I see open
yet. All the same, everything and anything seems possible from
here, (except that the feeling that it is will remain unstinting in
perpetuity). Time to get busy while that sun is shining...
June 13, 2011
I just fixed the dishwasher. I turned off the
water and the electricity. I used a Philips screwdriver to
release it from the counter and on the electrical box, a hex driver to
take the front plate off and move the electrical box, a crescent wrench
to remove the hose, a phone book to jack the front up, a yardstick and
flashlight to make sure the hose was not caught underneath, a water
sprayer to get the cat out from behind, a bunch of old diapers and a
couple plates to catch the water until I figured out I'd turned off the
cold rather than the hot, and a 1/2" hex wrench to loosen the clamp on
the waste water supply. I rerouted the electrical wire through
the correct hole in the cabinet so that the dishwasher can be pulled
further out, and I rerouted the water supply hose to the channel on the
right where it's supposed to go instead of squeezed with the electrical
wire under the machine, and tried to expand the resultant two kinks in
the line that had been the cause of the cycle taking upwards of three
hours in the first place. Of course, we just returned from a
weekend away and don't have even a half dishwasher load dirty for me to
test my fix with, but I'm proud nonetheless. I just wish it had
taken me less than the months it did to actually do it.
February 17, 2011
After last night I am craving an unbroken night's
sleep at least once this vacation. The dog and the cat are not
traveling with us so that's two of the five miscreants down. I
had the boy with cold feet and pushy knees at some dead of night time
on one side, the boy with the bad dream and the need to sleep between C
and I at a later dead of night time, the dog (twice), C's alarm,
repeatedly (I hate that sound effect more at every snooze), and the cat
(multiple times). I talked gibberish to the nightmare, dreamt I
was trapped, moved beds, grumped at my love come to kiss me, and
finally got up tired. Grrrumble.
Today is a day of packing and cleaning. But
first, breakfast!
February 15,
2011
Today marks the six month anniversary of my arrival
back in the United States after living abroad in Holland for nearly
three years. Next week we go on vacation to the Bay Area in
California. It was at our six month mark after our move to the
Netherlands that we came back to Seattle on vacation, and it was at
that time that things started turning around for us. The misery
that had been a big part of transitioning let up and we started doing
more and being happier. I've been looking to this day to be the
turn-around point for myself. I'm hopeful, most of the time, that
this point will mark the beginning of the upswing back to my normal
happy. Because, frankly, it's been pretty tough. I've been
lonely and disconnected, unhappy and overwhelmed, burying myself in my
vices and refusing all too often to do the writing and running that
keep me on an even keel. I have read well over a hundred books,
played way too much spider (and deleted it from my phone dozens of
times), and spent hours and hours getting our music library in shape
despite the urgency of other tasks. I mostly unpacked the house
except for the garage and piles of projects, such as the sewing, the
art cabinet, and all the photos and frames and negatives that need
putting together. I hurried to get our Christmas picture taken in
early December, then got the letters folded in with the pictures before
Christmas, and they have been sitting on a shelf waiting for labels and
stamps ever since. I have allowed my e-mail box to stuff itself
until I am immobile (again), and I have nearly ceased activity on
Facebook not because I haven't craved the connection, but because I
felt stupid, incapable, guilty, and unworthy. I am frustrated by
my failings and my feelings. I have been impatient with myself
and unkind in ways I wouldn't tolerate in anyone else. I am ready
for all of that to change.
I am making progress. I am running more.
I am starting to make the personal and social connections that will
keep me from feeling invisible at the schoolyard and at home. The
weather is helping and I am able to work in the garden, something that
gives me calm and satisfaction. Things feels more possible.
The dog gave me a bit of a scare over the weekend;
he started limping badly and having trouble getting around. I
suddenly realized that there was no way for him to go to the bathroom
without navigating some stairs. While waiting for the vet
appointment, I thought about needing to start a sod garden on the deck
just for him. Since then he's had x-rays of his knees and the
news is positive; it's not a big tear of his ligament, and the joint
mouse is an unlikely cause as it is buried in a fat pad, so the
conservative course of rest, pain meds and anti-inflammatories is how
we will move forward. In addition, he's not losing weight any
more, and is a couple of pounds over his last vet visit in
January. The
realization by A and B earlier this winter that the dog was aging and
might have
another five years in him put the boys in heartbroken tears
already, even though he was healthy. I am glad that the news now
is not more dire. He's
such a good, sweet, wonderful dog.
I've started, for the first time in my life, to
limit my calories, actually tracking them and recording them. I
have always relied on my fitness and my sense of satiety in the past,
but I am getting older and I don't like the shape I am in. I'd
like to get back to feeling and looking fit, and stop eating to fill
other cravings, something I've not had a lot of trouble with in the
past, but has snuck up on me in the last six months. I've
committed to running a marathon in the fall, which will help too.
As it is, the boxes of Thin Mints have gone directly to the freezer
unopened.
As always, there are lots of things I'd like to
do/get done. More than are likely, or likely possible. I am
going to do the wise thing now, and not list them all. Partly to
save myself guilt from not finishing them all when I've written them
down, and partly in response to a TED talk I saw that suggested that
when you set a goal and then tell people about it, you get a rush of
accomplishment that actually detracts from the likelihood that you will
reach the goal.
When I was in fourth grade, I loved my
teacher. For Christmas, I told her I would make for her a series
of magazine issues to run the rest of the year. I can't now tell
you any single thing that was in the long first issue I gave her, but I
can still feel the shame of not completing all the issues I said I
would. I was just-turned-nine. I'm sure and certain that if
ever she would think about or come across the product of my labors, she
wouldn't blame me for not delivering the promised ones. So why
can't I do the same?
This is an issue (obviously) that I have struggled
with a lot over the course of my life. I am ready for that to
change too. I know that it requires a hell of a lot more than any
quick fix, but perhaps if instead of concentrating my energy on
changing the things I do poorly, I pour it into enhancing the things I
do well. I do a great job at single-minded project organization,
taking chaos and bringing order to it, and finishing things that can be
finished. If after I finish with the music, I pick my next
project well, and look at it as a game to win/puzzle to solve, I can
bulldoze through obstacles that might otherwise stop me if I spent time
beating myself up because I wasn't doing everything at once. I'm
sure you'll hear from me again on this topic.
And that will have to be that for today. I'm
wrung out.
January 13, 2011
Hoo boy. Another year sped past. I just
re-read my first
ever
blog
entry from six years ago and am amused at how far and how
near that time is to this. Six years later and I am again in the
same house in January after not having lived here most of the previous
year. My niece turns 21 in a few days, both kids are in school
now, though neither of them ties shoelaces on any sort of regular basis
(Velcro is a blessing and a curse simultaneously), and we recently
abandoned a produce delivery service because of rampant unwanted
substitutions in favor of buying local foods and from farmers
markets. I've been reading The Rolling Stones by Heinlein to the
boys in the evenings, C and I are enjoying tv shows we missed or
started in Europe by way of Netflix on demand, and several years of
successful poker "chip" management of the boys' screen time was ditched
last year in favor of attempts to get them to learn self-management of
screen time and balance with the rest of their lives. They
received 5 new Wii games for Christmas they are enjoying, but although
we have a (large) tv now, we don't get broadcast television or have a
DVR, and I have not yet instituted the movie nights where we share with
the boys our favorite appropriate movies.
I want to do so much. I'm still struggling
with balancing all I want to do, all I think I should do, and all I am
actually able to do, with what I do. I'm not particularly pleased
that this struggle defines so much of me. If struggles define a
person, and I was suddenly able to resolve this one -actually do all I
wanted to do-, what would I pick as a struggle to wrestle with
next? I'll have to think about that.
I'm also still fighting back to normal after the
move. Writing and running have helped (as I knew they would even
as I failed to do either), and finding some buddies during the school
day will help too. I've given up on finding the old dish drainer,
even though there are a couple unopened boxes (marked garage tools),
and even went to Freddie's to get another earlier today. Of
course, while I successfully returned the too-small boy pajamas on the
top floor, and bought peanut butter and game night groceries next door,
despite writing it down in Epic Win, I failed to remember to head down
the escalator and actually buy the dish drainer until I'd gotten home
again. The house is full full full of things to sort, organize,
complete, and put away. I have Christmas still to put away, a
mountain of dishes, Quicken to do, and am very thankful that my niece
is willing to clean for cash, so that there will be less work for all
of us before company comes on Saturday. Pictures still haven't
gotten on the walls, though the big map is hung, and our garage still
lacks room for a car. We've all settled in to our nest, but I'm
still trying to adjust the feathers and sticks a bit. Some of
them poke.
Time to put some music on and go do.