My little girl had a blood draw yesterday, and she was very brave. The lab technicians gave her a princess frisbee as they set her up, and asked her to name all the princesses.
She hadn’t even made it past Belle by the time the vial was full, and it was so quick there wasn’t even time to shed a tear.
They were awesome, and she was a rock star.
Me: “Have you seen the baby monitors? Someone from Craig’s List is coming over to buy them, but they’ve disappeared.”
Bryan: “I don’t know. I recall seeing them somewhere, but I can’t remember.”
“Oh, here they are in a random box of crap. Can you not do that when you clean?”
“Uh, remember that day we had to put Lucy’s kennel upstairs in a hurry? That was all the crap you had sitting on top of it.”
“Oh. Well then. Carry on.”
This is the time of the month when I panic on a daily basis over whether I’ve paid all the bills for the month. Never mind that I sit down sometime during the first week to pay them all via online banking – I STILL flew out of bed at 6am this morning to check the American Express account online.
And?
PAID.
Obviously I don’t trust myself. And rightly so, since I forget Important Things all the time. Even with all the various online to-do lists I’ve tried (previously Vitalist, and currently Remember the Milk), my chronic procrastination usually sabotages it all anyway.
So this *sigh of relief* is brought to you by a complete set of checked boxes.
I haven’t read a book in over a month. And I haven’t been keeping up with your blog. And I’m trudging through Leviticus.
In related news: my creative well is dry.
I didn’t realize just HOW much I drew from what I take in, but now I know: if I’m not participating in creation, I struggle to create.
For instance, that last meaty post I wrote about suffering? It all started as a preamble to declare how much I love the band Cloud Cult, which was all I was listening to at the time.
Music inspired me to write.
So onward, I suppose, into Being Inspired!
I’m so mad I could spit.
I came home from the store today to find a car in the parking lot across the street had its window smashed in, likely something stolen from inside. I don’t know whose car it is, but it pisses me off that some ass-crack got away with this in broad daylight in front of MY HOUSE.
Because I’m like fricken Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window around here and have a dog that barks at rain, so if something had smashed while I was home you can bet I’d have seen it AND let my dog out the gate to chomp some ass.
I’m also mad because our car was broken into a few weeks ago, which I could have easily chalked up to a random casualty of urban dwelling, but now it seems we have a CRIME SPREE on our hands. I told Bryan we should get a surveillance camera and do our own little sting a la The Wire.
At any rate, it was raining, and there was a baby’s car seat in the back, so I put some plastic over the window to keep it all dry.
I’d seen Bryan around, but I first noticed him when he officially introduced himself to the group at a staff meeting. He was from southern Colorado, his wife left him, and he came to Seattle trying to make sense of the last six years of his life.
I took note.
It wasn’t that I reveled in rescuing lost puppies; but rather, because he suffered, I knew he wasn’t shallow.
I look around me now, at my closest friends, and they all know or have experienced suffering. Some I have watched suffer; some suffered before I knew them. But it is their Story of pain and tragedy that allows me to trust them, to let them watch me as I writhe in my own confused, dark places.
I’ve had a few people tell me I’m stand-offish, that I’m hard to get to know. This confused me, because my commitment to friends is deep and forever. But when I think about it, when I think about who makes these claims, I realize it’s the people I don’t really know – the ones who lie to themselves and everyone else about their suffering, who want to pretend they have it together, who avoid suffering at all costs.
And they’re right: I’m stand-offish to them.
I have to be, because in relationship I don’t hide much, and it would be foolish for me to expose myself to the untested.
A few years ago I lost a friend. She met me on the doorstep as I came to pick up my kids at her house, and she told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. She didn’t really explain, and it didn’t make any sense. Conflict was happening around us, but I wrongly assumed we were tight, that we would persevere, that our friendship could withstand it all.
Ironically, as I walked over to pick up my children that morning I felt compelled to acknowledge all that was swirling around us. I was planning to tell her I loved her, and that I wanted us to pray together for Peace in the midst of The Ugliness, and that I wanted to wrestle through our friendship.
So her confrontation was quite a blow.
But it let me know I had chosen wrongly in her as a friend, that my vulnerability was given to her untested. As the following weeks unraveled, everything I thought I knew about our friendship turned out to be a polite facade that covered gossip, disdain, and betrayal. Despite the fact I could see how she suffered, it turns out she never let me in. She was pushing me away, and I never even saw it.
It took two and a half years for me to understand this – to understand we did not feel the same way about suffering and friendship. In fact, I don’t think I understood it until around paragraph seven of this post.
Thankfully, that experience did not cause me to retract my vulnerability, but it did open my eyes to Caution. I think back on what it is I saw in Bryan, and in my friends, that drew me in to their Story – and I believe it is the limps and scars and weathered skin that tell me I’d be safer in their boat than in a greenhorn’s.
Here it is. My ignite presentation.
I’m pretty proud of it, just to let you know. I think maybe I like public speaking because I never really get nervous at the time of presenting.
I DO, however, have a nervous breakdown SEVERAL TIMES during the preparation of a presentation – particularly this one, as I feared NOBODY WOULD CARE about what a stay at home mom has to say to this particular crowd. But as you can tell by the laughter at appropriate times, I think I pulled it off.
Huge huge HUGE thanks to Bryan & the kids for putting up with my irrational mood swings, the growing laundry piles, and the generally chaotic home environment as I prepared for this event. Also, Bryan put up with a disproportionate amount of verbal abuse whenever he said the words “bullet points.” But in the end he was avenged, and did his victory lap around the house.
Also, big thanks, of course, to Brady and the selection team for picking me. Yea!
It was great fun, but I’m so relieved to have my regular life back, slaving away at home.
Encouraging Young Artists – PBS Supersisters
Recently I had the epiphany that I’ve been a writer since I could write – I just never had a mentor to encourage me or give any direction. I’m so task oriented at home I often forget to spend time cultivating my kids’ interests, discovering what they enjoy creating and making space for them to explore. This post was a great reminder that I have budding creators right in front of me, and I should pay more attention.
Gradbabies – The Word Cellar
Jennifer writes a great essay on dealing with everyone else’s expectations, particularly when it comes to having babies.
What Makes This Paragraph So Great? – Don Miller
This short writing lesson rocked my world – “Notice how the paragraph feels descriptive, but is actually more full of verbs than adjectives.”
High School Musical 4 – Hulu.com
This is pretty hilarious considering a certain 6yo’s obsession with High School Musical.
Photo by Randy Stewart – blog.stewtopia.com
I had a great time doing The Sanity Hacks of a Stay at Home Mom at Ignite, and was so thrilled by the experience I could do it over and over again.
Thanks to Bryan for believing in me, and for convincing me that what I had to say mattered. Also? For laughing victoriously from the gut when I finally said, “You’re right, I’ll do it your way. Bullet points, it is!”
Thanks to Amanda, Katherine, and Julie for reading the first draft and giving me awesome feedback, because striking the proper tone was hugely important to me; to my IRL peeps for encouraging me, to my friend Alecia for taking my sick kid, and to the super duper fabulous Beth and Beth (yes, two friends named Beth – I actually have 3 total) for cheering me on at the event.
For the record, I do not recommend chaperoning a kindergarten class to the zoo at 8:30 the next morning, followed closely by obedience training for your dog in the late afternoon, followed by the arrival of your mother from out of town the next day.
It makes for some serious insanity that’s not so easy to hack.
A video is forthcoming. Despite the fact I sleep with the editor, I could not get him to do mine first.
Hack [hak] Verb –
To jury-rig or improvise something inelegant but effective, usually as a temporary solution to a problem.
I am scrambling to hack a new childcare situation for tonight now that Thomas is sick.
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Twelve hours from now I am to report to The King Cat Theater for my presentation at Ignite Seattle on The Sanity Hacks of a Stay At Home Mom.
However.
Thomas woke up at 5:30 this morning coughing and screaming from an ear ache, which means I likely can’t take him to my friend’s house where he will infect all her children.
So if ever I needed a sanity hack, IT WOULD BE RIGHT NOW.
Me: So Ruthie, your homework tonight is to write three words in the “air” family.
Ruthie: CHAIR!
Me: Awesome. What’s another one?
Ruthie: STAIR!
Me: Yup. One more!
Ruthie: PAIR!
Me: Close! I know it sounds the same, but that’s actually spelled P-E-A-R.
Ruthie: [blank stair stare]
Me: Um, yeah. Actually, PAIR is right. Good job.
Just so you know, a kid threw gum at J__ on the bus and she put it in her mouth “because it still tasted good.” I made her pinky-swear never to do that again.
This week I’m busy working on my Ignite Seattle presentation called “Sanity Hacks of a Stay at Home Mom.” Mine is one of sixteen presentations of the night – the first eight have been posted here. Topics include Public Library Hacking, Knitting in Code, and The Secret Underground World of Lego.
Ignite presentations are 5 minutes long using 20 powerpoint slides that auto advance every fifteen seconds, and presenters are not allowed to use notes. ACK!
I am appropriately freaked out, particularly since the confirmation email I received indicated the King Cat Theater, where the event is held, holds up to 700 people. So when it’s over I will either be flying high on presentation adrenaline, or I will crap my pants, shut down my blog, never to be seen again as I die of embarrassment.
If you want to catch the suspense in person, here’s the info:
April 29: doors at 7, start at 8:30
King Cat Theater
21 and over.
No worries if you can’t make it live, the good Bryan Zug will be recording video for the event.
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In related news, I’m off to find a babysitter!
