I have brought the office home with me tonight.
Physically and mentally. The physical part I don't mind so much; it happens once in a blue moon.
The mental part I mind a lot. I am frustrated. I work on a training team full of people who aren't trainers. And I'm really at my wits' end over the lack of project management skills. Unfortunately, since I do the production and development of the classes, I am directly on the receiving end of Project Management Incompotence.
Person 1 doesn't know how to manage a project at all, even though I've coached them in the past, and they are still asking me the same questions and having the same verbatim conversations we've had three or four times already. Then they come over and ask me what to do three more times. The last project they were managing, they simply *didn't do* the work and I ended up having to bail it out last minute.
Person 2 has poor communicaton skills and an aggressive personality. Also needs work in PM skills, but can at least put out a good project when all is said and done. Today I called them before going home only to discover that the project I'm currently doing needs to be delivered by 2pm Monday, and they never even told me about it!!! This person has also called me rigid and inflexible because I said no to spending hours on end-stage production work before the content was final, because they were impatient for the project to be done and couldn't get the person on the phone that they needed to speak to. I told person 2, as respectfully as possible, that not getting so and so on the phone wasn't my problem, please give me the content when it's final and I'm happy to produce it. Same Person 2 has given me feedback changes that were outright incorrect. Person 2 apparently has no verbal or written English skills whatsoever and always gives me script text that is so incorrect it makes no sense. The excuse? They didn't write it, they just copied and pasted from somewhere. This poor communication about expectations and sloppy work is causing friction between us. They had this same problem with a vendor last year. Now I know why. It wasn't the vendor's fault, I see that now. I refuse to work on something that I'll spend hours on and just have to re-do because the PM was sloppy.
Maybe I'm just crazy, but in my mind if you're managing a project and then handing the content over to someone else, take fucking accountability for it and make sure it's 100% ready for production.
Thank Goddess I am good at what I do, and my boss told me the other day that I'm one of the real treasures on the team. That was nice to hear, especially because I feel on the outsides socially...not that I mind a great deal about that. I much prefer to keep my social life separate from work. I am thankful that at least I have a great manager...and I think I need to have a meeting with him about this, and how it can be resolved in a positive way for everyone to be successful.
topiary cats
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Reaction
This is a few days delayed but I've needed that time to think and collect thoughts.
I am so deeply saddened by the shootings in Virginia earlier this week. It's so tragic and horrible. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.
My reaction to it is that law enforcement needs to take non-physical violence far more seriously than it does. Of course this means resources on an already overburdened system and I don't have a good answer or solution to that because I feel there are so many factors involved in why these things are happening en masse to begin with. But the police do need to take things seriously even with no history of previous physical violence.
*****
Right after I had Daya things got even worse at home than they had been previously. I was extremely quiet and withdrawn; that was my defense. To appear weak and immobilized, lost in depression. Incapable of doing anything.
When Daya was 11 days old, the ex came home frome wherever he had been for the past four days. He came home for less than 10 minutes, just to tell me that he "had a vision" that the baby and I would be found dead in the apartment. He said it "was confirmed" and would definitely happen.
I took that pretty seriously. Seriously enough to call the police. The police told me that since he hadn't hit me, there was nothing they could do except file a complaint of harassment, which wouldn't even keep him away from me. Even though he is an expert martial artist. Even though he has firearms training. Even though he was crazy in the head. Even though he had said those words of his newborn baby girl.
What I think could very feasibly have happened, had I not moved out less than a week later, isn't a far stretch in my mind. The ex was crazy and that was dangerous because it meant he was unpredictable in his actions, regardless of previous known history. He was finished with me, that was made very, very clear. He also made it clear that he changed his mind and "couldn't" be tied down with responsibilities after all, meaning Daya. He said normal rules of humans didn't apply to him because he was god's special messenger. I was simply excess to him, something he used up and no longer needed. Something that could be discarded without a second thought. (Meaning he built up his social network, had a new woman to be parasite to, resources, and thought he had his greencard secured.)
That gives us a man who is expertly trained in the art of killing along with a total lack of conscience or sense of empathy or personal wrongdoing. And a motive. Very, very dangerous. It would have been so easy for him to have done something and make it look like a post-partum depression suicide/infant murder. So easy. Too easy, in fact, especially because it was no secret that I was not emotionally well during the pregnancy or afterwards. Add to that whatever he was telling people. And it would most probably have worked. Because people loved him and would have sworn on their lives he'd never do such a thing. Because of his way of presenting himself, and because no one knew the truth of what was going on in our home. And he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, he'd be clear and free to go about his life of parasitical charm. And he'd get a ton of sympathy and attention from such a horrible thing happening...playing up his anguish...I can see it so clearly.
My story continued to a much happier place, for which I am beyond thankful.
Which cannot be said for those poor souls mowed down by one man's insanity.
Which could have and should have been prevented.
I am so deeply saddened by the shootings in Virginia earlier this week. It's so tragic and horrible. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.
My reaction to it is that law enforcement needs to take non-physical violence far more seriously than it does. Of course this means resources on an already overburdened system and I don't have a good answer or solution to that because I feel there are so many factors involved in why these things are happening en masse to begin with. But the police do need to take things seriously even with no history of previous physical violence.
*****
Right after I had Daya things got even worse at home than they had been previously. I was extremely quiet and withdrawn; that was my defense. To appear weak and immobilized, lost in depression. Incapable of doing anything.
When Daya was 11 days old, the ex came home frome wherever he had been for the past four days. He came home for less than 10 minutes, just to tell me that he "had a vision" that the baby and I would be found dead in the apartment. He said it "was confirmed" and would definitely happen.
I took that pretty seriously. Seriously enough to call the police. The police told me that since he hadn't hit me, there was nothing they could do except file a complaint of harassment, which wouldn't even keep him away from me. Even though he is an expert martial artist. Even though he has firearms training. Even though he was crazy in the head. Even though he had said those words of his newborn baby girl.
What I think could very feasibly have happened, had I not moved out less than a week later, isn't a far stretch in my mind. The ex was crazy and that was dangerous because it meant he was unpredictable in his actions, regardless of previous known history. He was finished with me, that was made very, very clear. He also made it clear that he changed his mind and "couldn't" be tied down with responsibilities after all, meaning Daya. He said normal rules of humans didn't apply to him because he was god's special messenger. I was simply excess to him, something he used up and no longer needed. Something that could be discarded without a second thought. (Meaning he built up his social network, had a new woman to be parasite to, resources, and thought he had his greencard secured.)
That gives us a man who is expertly trained in the art of killing along with a total lack of conscience or sense of empathy or personal wrongdoing. And a motive. Very, very dangerous. It would have been so easy for him to have done something and make it look like a post-partum depression suicide/infant murder. So easy. Too easy, in fact, especially because it was no secret that I was not emotionally well during the pregnancy or afterwards. Add to that whatever he was telling people. And it would most probably have worked. Because people loved him and would have sworn on their lives he'd never do such a thing. Because of his way of presenting himself, and because no one knew the truth of what was going on in our home. And he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, he'd be clear and free to go about his life of parasitical charm. And he'd get a ton of sympathy and attention from such a horrible thing happening...playing up his anguish...I can see it so clearly.
My story continued to a much happier place, for which I am beyond thankful.
Which cannot be said for those poor souls mowed down by one man's insanity.
Which could have and should have been prevented.
My Dad the Rock Star
Have I ever mentioned that my dad is a rock star? It's true. He opened for the Doors right when Light My Fire came out, back in the day, and I have met two separate unrelated people who remember his old band from way back. Cool, huh? He's also a cool person!
Here he is, doing his thing on steel guitar.
Here he is, doing his thing on steel guitar.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
My Secret Wish
I have been carrying a wish around inside myself since I was a little kid, since at least 8 years old. And it's such a stupid thing, inconsequential really, but somehow it's major to me and has been for a long time. A secret desire, if you will.
After I had Daya and found myself single with no support or help, I told myself that I wouldn't let my circumstance stop me from being who I am and doing things that I want to do. That I would never use the excuse of being a single mom to prevent me from living life. This doesn't mean that I'm wanting to go off and do a bunch of stuff and leave Daya all the time, but I can certainly take a few hours here and there. I spend a lot of time with Daya and I intend to continue that- it's all just a matter of balance. Most of my social life also involves Daya, which is nice. But I need "me" time, too.
So back to my secret wish. I decided that I wanted to take a class of some kind. I was taking tea ceremony lessons, and I'll probably still do them sporadically, but they are much more expensive than I initially thought. I also still want to do Yoga, and that's pretty cheap and I'll probably work it in starting in the summer. I considered figure painting, because I love it and it's been a long time since I've had the opportunity. But for all these things, that little background voice started up again with the "...that would be fun and I'd enjoy it a lot, but if I could choose absolutely anything, what I REALLY want to study is voice."
So, as stupid as this is, I have a long-term build-up of fear with this, and it's a sticking point because I never properly resolved it. I believe in facing fears and blockages, and for some reason this is significant enough to me to the point where it's stayed around for a really long time. There is a definite energy block and I'm still not sure why it is so significant. But I guess I'll find out, because I start working with a vocal coach tonight. I could have gone the cheap route with this and done cheap lessons, or CDs and books, but I really want good training. Lessons aren't cheap (more than tea ceremony, actually) but somehow it's working out. I feel the cheap approach isn't doing justice to something that has been so secretly significant to me for such a long time. I need to give this the attention and space it wants. There is something that I need from it.
I have no interest in performance. This is purely personal. It's just something I need to do. I have been in choirs, both audition and non-audition. I studied piano for about 9 years growing up, and I deeply miss the world of music. Since I come from musicians, that's not really suprising.
Sometimes, when looking back on life, I really feel I could have gone the route of either music or visual arts. I took the road of visual arts and while I don't regret it, I do regret that my piano training got badly screwed up by an incompotent teacher. By the time I switched teachers it was a little late, and I was too young to realize the incompotence sooner. One day, when I am out of NYC and settled in a place where I can have a piano again, I'll resume it. I made that promise to myself a long time ago.
But tonight is about airing a block, facing a fear, and doing something that was important to me as a child and contines to be important in adulthood.
Life is for living, no excuses.
After I had Daya and found myself single with no support or help, I told myself that I wouldn't let my circumstance stop me from being who I am and doing things that I want to do. That I would never use the excuse of being a single mom to prevent me from living life. This doesn't mean that I'm wanting to go off and do a bunch of stuff and leave Daya all the time, but I can certainly take a few hours here and there. I spend a lot of time with Daya and I intend to continue that- it's all just a matter of balance. Most of my social life also involves Daya, which is nice. But I need "me" time, too.
So back to my secret wish. I decided that I wanted to take a class of some kind. I was taking tea ceremony lessons, and I'll probably still do them sporadically, but they are much more expensive than I initially thought. I also still want to do Yoga, and that's pretty cheap and I'll probably work it in starting in the summer. I considered figure painting, because I love it and it's been a long time since I've had the opportunity. But for all these things, that little background voice started up again with the "...that would be fun and I'd enjoy it a lot, but if I could choose absolutely anything, what I REALLY want to study is voice."
So, as stupid as this is, I have a long-term build-up of fear with this, and it's a sticking point because I never properly resolved it. I believe in facing fears and blockages, and for some reason this is significant enough to me to the point where it's stayed around for a really long time. There is a definite energy block and I'm still not sure why it is so significant. But I guess I'll find out, because I start working with a vocal coach tonight. I could have gone the cheap route with this and done cheap lessons, or CDs and books, but I really want good training. Lessons aren't cheap (more than tea ceremony, actually) but somehow it's working out. I feel the cheap approach isn't doing justice to something that has been so secretly significant to me for such a long time. I need to give this the attention and space it wants. There is something that I need from it.
I have no interest in performance. This is purely personal. It's just something I need to do. I have been in choirs, both audition and non-audition. I studied piano for about 9 years growing up, and I deeply miss the world of music. Since I come from musicians, that's not really suprising.
Sometimes, when looking back on life, I really feel I could have gone the route of either music or visual arts. I took the road of visual arts and while I don't regret it, I do regret that my piano training got badly screwed up by an incompotent teacher. By the time I switched teachers it was a little late, and I was too young to realize the incompotence sooner. One day, when I am out of NYC and settled in a place where I can have a piano again, I'll resume it. I made that promise to myself a long time ago.
But tonight is about airing a block, facing a fear, and doing something that was important to me as a child and contines to be important in adulthood.
Life is for living, no excuses.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Out of the Woodwork
I just got a call from an old friend/acquaintance. Someone I haven't talked to in over a year, and it was such a nice call to receive. He was also good friends with the ex.
He said the last he heard, which was a long time ago, the ex was managing a restaurant in Cape Town, and he had a major emotional breakdown/ reality check when he got back to Africa and cried for three or four days or something like that.
I do not feel sorry for him.
I trust him about as far as I can throw a train. Nor do I wish to have any contact with him whatsoever. I don't trust his breakdowns; I've heard that story before from him and even if they're genuine in the moment, I think they turn into part of his facade for people to pity him and respond to him. The whole Poor Me act. I just don't buy it. My friend didn't know about his plans for a next marriage.
What I think is that he's so screwed up and so used to thinking of himself in a certain way, so used to lying and justifying those lies in his mind. He has an astonishing ability to bend reality and truth to suit his perspective. He has a natural charm and charisma; a magnetism, a glamour.
Daya has it too and it's my job to teach her to use it responsibly.
He said the last he heard, which was a long time ago, the ex was managing a restaurant in Cape Town, and he had a major emotional breakdown/ reality check when he got back to Africa and cried for three or four days or something like that.
I do not feel sorry for him.
I trust him about as far as I can throw a train. Nor do I wish to have any contact with him whatsoever. I don't trust his breakdowns; I've heard that story before from him and even if they're genuine in the moment, I think they turn into part of his facade for people to pity him and respond to him. The whole Poor Me act. I just don't buy it. My friend didn't know about his plans for a next marriage.
What I think is that he's so screwed up and so used to thinking of himself in a certain way, so used to lying and justifying those lies in his mind. He has an astonishing ability to bend reality and truth to suit his perspective. He has a natural charm and charisma; a magnetism, a glamour.
Daya has it too and it's my job to teach her to use it responsibly.
Monday, April 09, 2007
It Got Better
That chaotic anti-electronic energy is fixed. While I was soaking in a nice steamy bath last night, a helpful flash of insight told me to do a Triple Grid. It's been a very, very long time since I've done one. I really feel so much better now.
In about 15 minutes I am picking up my cd from the old memory card. The photo machine thingy crashed the first time I tried to order the cd, but all was well the second time so my Electronics Curse is officially over.
In about 15 minutes I am picking up my cd from the old memory card. The photo machine thingy crashed the first time I tried to order the cd, but all was well the second time so my Electronics Curse is officially over.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Electronically Cursed?
I feel like I have some sort of chaotic energy around me. Not good. It is apparently very bad for electronics, whatever it may be. I just feel prone to clumsy disaster right now. I do hope this goes away very soon.
Daya- my baby, my treasure- threw my cellphone into the bathtub. A dry bathtub. So now the display is all wonky. The phone works, and I'll be able to retrieve the numbers. Thankfully I don't have an expensive cell phone, so I was able to get the same one on ebay for very little.
But still. This is weird.
I have had a very expensive weekend. (Though I must say I am falling in love with my new camera.) Is Mercury in retrograde or something?
Hmmm... maybe I should get off the computer. (Dear computer, please don't explode.) Oh, and Daya is now banned from playing with my cellphone. She doesn't know it yet, and it might not go over very well.
I want to hook up my new camera and download pictures, but honest to goddess, I'm actually afraid to do it tonight.
Daya- my baby, my treasure- threw my cellphone into the bathtub. A dry bathtub. So now the display is all wonky. The phone works, and I'll be able to retrieve the numbers. Thankfully I don't have an expensive cell phone, so I was able to get the same one on ebay for very little.
But still. This is weird.
I have had a very expensive weekend. (Though I must say I am falling in love with my new camera.) Is Mercury in retrograde or something?
Hmmm... maybe I should get off the computer. (Dear computer, please don't explode.) Oh, and Daya is now banned from playing with my cellphone. She doesn't know it yet, and it might not go over very well.
I want to hook up my new camera and download pictures, but honest to goddess, I'm actually afraid to do it tonight.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Eulogy
"The good, the bad, the sane and the mad-
all things must surely pass."
all things must surely pass."
Today an old and very dear friend of mine met an untimely passing. The image of her newly-deceased corpse will forever remain in my mind.
To my Canon Powershot A40, I say thanks for all the memories.In a surreal freak accident, which I had two pre-cognitive warnings about 10 minutes before it happened, my dinosaur digital camera jumped out of my hands, bounced three times, and landed in the duck pond at the Flushing Meadows Zoo.
The last picture she ever captured was of the water that took her life.
Thanks to Tom the Zookeepper, I recovered her. Got the batteries and the memory card out and THANK GODDESS they still work. So I will get a cd made of the images on the memory card, which amazingly enough is in perfect condition. I tested it to make sure...and what a relief!
Because I am completely neurotic about replacing things immediately, I bought a new camera. I'm a Canon girl, so I got the Canon Powershot A570 1S. 7.1 megapixels, versus 2.0 megapixels in my old model.
But the Powershot A40 was a fabulous camera. She took a good picture. I bought her in 2001, for more than I paid for my new camera today. She never had a case and suffered much abuse. She went a lot of places, met a lot of people, was dropped a few times, and took thousands of pictures. And except for a slight occasional difficulty with the flash, she worked perfectly. My new camera has a legacy to live up to.
What memories will my new camera capture, I wonder? I am looking forward to finding out.
May 2001 to April 2007
And here is the Last Picture: 
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Still Unpacking
I have out of town company staying over next week. I have discovered having people over is a great motivator to get stuff done. Like unpacking boxes from the move 5 months ago.
I finally finished unpacking my kitchen. And alas, my suspicion was confirmed- my food procesor blades must have been accidentally thrown out. I even know how it happened. Of course one of the lost ones was the expensive one. Of course. I ordered replacements because...well, what else can I do? $50. And unfortunately my particular machine only takes 3 blades. I was hoping to get a deal on ebay, and it seems I have the only Cuisinart food processor that does not have blades interchangeable with at least 1 other model. I'm sort of bummed about that. I wouldn't mind a better range of different cutting blades.
I finally finished unpacking my kitchen. And alas, my suspicion was confirmed- my food procesor blades must have been accidentally thrown out. I even know how it happened. Of course one of the lost ones was the expensive one. Of course. I ordered replacements because...well, what else can I do? $50. And unfortunately my particular machine only takes 3 blades. I was hoping to get a deal on ebay, and it seems I have the only Cuisinart food processor that does not have blades interchangeable with at least 1 other model. I'm sort of bummed about that. I wouldn't mind a better range of different cutting blades.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Agreeable
I can get Daya to verbally agree to anything.
Because her standard response to any question is "No," it's pretty easy. The secret is in how you ask the questions.
For example:
Daya, do you want to stay home?
No.
Do you want to go to the park?
No.
Would you like to skip your doctor visit?
No.
Would you like to leave without getting shots?
No.
Should I do all the housework while you play?
No.
Will you wake up really early tomorrow morning?
No.
Unfortunalely, she's not very selective in her use of the word No.
Daya, do you love me?
No.
BUT- I have it on her word that she doesn't hate me either.
; )
Because her standard response to any question is "No," it's pretty easy. The secret is in how you ask the questions.
For example:
Daya, do you want to stay home?
No.
Do you want to go to the park?
No.
Would you like to skip your doctor visit?
No.
Would you like to leave without getting shots?
No.
Should I do all the housework while you play?
No.
Will you wake up really early tomorrow morning?
No.
Unfortunalely, she's not very selective in her use of the word No.
Daya, do you love me?
No.
BUT- I have it on her word that she doesn't hate me either.
; )
Monday, March 26, 2007
W 77th St
Last night at dusk I was walking on West 77th St towards Central Park West. I was alone, carrying nothing- not even a small handbag. No one else was on the street; the only other people I saw were bored-looking doormen behind their doors. For that brief moment, the street was mine, and I was completely anonymous. I could have been anyone, with any past, living anywhere, going anywhere. I walked without a story. It was so peaceful. I reached Central Park, and took a moment to bask in the history of the city, to stop and appreciate the metalwork of the lamp posts along the park. Being alone there, with no one else around, in such a famous and well-travelled place was somehow a very intimate exchange with the city.
I could have walked like that for many more blocks, but I had to pick up Daya. So, much sooner than I would have liked, I stepped into the subway, back into myself. But perhaps that brief moment was all I needed after all.
********
My most profound spiritual experience ever happened somewhere in the Union Square vicinity. It was October a few years ago, and I was walking alone at night. The streets were busy; it was dark but not late. For a brief moment as I walked, I experienced no separation between me and anything else. It was not a thought, or a realization, or a meditation- nothing mental. It was a huge all-encompassing and profound experience. I looked around me, and realized I was everything, and everything was me- the bricks in the buildings, other people, everything. Everything was One; there were no boundaries. It was truly awesome.
I could have walked like that for many more blocks, but I had to pick up Daya. So, much sooner than I would have liked, I stepped into the subway, back into myself. But perhaps that brief moment was all I needed after all.
********
My most profound spiritual experience ever happened somewhere in the Union Square vicinity. It was October a few years ago, and I was walking alone at night. The streets were busy; it was dark but not late. For a brief moment as I walked, I experienced no separation between me and anything else. It was not a thought, or a realization, or a meditation- nothing mental. It was a huge all-encompassing and profound experience. I looked around me, and realized I was everything, and everything was me- the bricks in the buildings, other people, everything. Everything was One; there were no boundaries. It was truly awesome.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Indignity
My cat's lucky streak of not going to the vet for the last 9 years has finally ended. Last night, she suffered the indignty of having her tail held up and her butt probed. Poor kitty.
The happy news is that her teeth are in suprisingly good shape for a cat her age. I'm relieved.
The happy news is that her teeth are in suprisingly good shape for a cat her age. I'm relieved.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
I'm Done Being Stupid
I have this part of my personality that is, NOT for lack of a better word, extremely stupid. As in really retarded. And the worst part is that these episodes of stupidity are completely preventable. **And I know they are right before they happen!**
Last night I reached my breaking point with this particularly golden part of myself. I'm so embarassed to write this. See, occasionally I set out for a destination thinking I know where it is. Meaning that I have a vague idea, or a foggy recollection. I think to myself that I'll find the place when I get there. Of course I don't.
I do not bring the address with me. Nor do I bring the phone number, or even the phone sometimes. So, I end up wandering around walking long distances not finding the place I need to be, and the frustrating part is that I'm always so close to where I have to go.
A few weeks back this happened when I was dropping my taxes off. To an extremely easy location. All I accomplished was wandering around at night with the child, and she lost a shoe.
Last night I walked up and down Queens Blvd with the child and the cat. Looking for the vet, which I would have sworn was on the south side of QB, but was actually on the north side. the irony was that I was on the north side literally right by the ofice, but I didn't find it beause I was looking in the wrong place. Had I taken my phone, there would be no problem. I rescheduled the appointment for tonight. This time I will take my phone and the address.
Really, why do I do this?
Last night I reached my breaking point with this particularly golden part of myself. I'm so embarassed to write this. See, occasionally I set out for a destination thinking I know where it is. Meaning that I have a vague idea, or a foggy recollection. I think to myself that I'll find the place when I get there. Of course I don't.
I do not bring the address with me. Nor do I bring the phone number, or even the phone sometimes. So, I end up wandering around walking long distances not finding the place I need to be, and the frustrating part is that I'm always so close to where I have to go.
A few weeks back this happened when I was dropping my taxes off. To an extremely easy location. All I accomplished was wandering around at night with the child, and she lost a shoe.
Last night I walked up and down Queens Blvd with the child and the cat. Looking for the vet, which I would have sworn was on the south side of QB, but was actually on the north side. the irony was that I was on the north side literally right by the ofice, but I didn't find it beause I was looking in the wrong place. Had I taken my phone, there would be no problem. I rescheduled the appointment for tonight. This time I will take my phone and the address.
Really, why do I do this?
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Kids and Adults
I think a lot about Daya growing up. Sometimes I get really sad about it, but I think that's a normal mom thing. I like Daya as a toddler. She's cute. She's fun. When I go pick her up after work, she throws both her arms straight up in the air and runs to me for a hug. I get sad thinking about how one day she'll be so different, and no matter where she may go and what she may do, I hope her life never separates from mine. I hold her little feet and wonder where they will walk, where will they go.
I know it's also a mom thing to look at everyone around us and realize everyone we see was once a little child. A cute toddler bouncing around. And at some point, that changes. Children become adults who aren't all that cute anymore. Some of them grow up to be adults that do horrible things to other people, to children. I see situations between a mother and her adult child where things have completely disintegrated. I think, how was this woman with her child when it was an infant? Toddler? Child? It makes me sad. Where and when did things go wrong? When did the child pull away? Why? Perhaps my own distant relationship with my mother plays a part in that as well. I don't want Daya to lack what I lacked in that relationship sense.
My approach to being in charge isn't so much to control Daya-I see my role more as managing her boundaries. Sometimes I wish I could see myself as a toddler and how was my daily life? How did my mother interact with me? I have a few clear memories but its not the same thing as observing behaviour. I do think kids are born automatically loving their parents/caregivers. I also firmly believe that the trust a child has in a parent is inherent in its beginning, but must always be maintained. I believe that while kids are, of course, forgiving, the trust that is established can be broken and dramatically impacted before the child is even of the age of remembering stuff.
Childhood should be a time that is safe, secure, and magical. With a backdrop of a constant presence of familarity and a lot of love. I hope I can somehow teach Daya to keep her magic as she grows up.
I know it's also a mom thing to look at everyone around us and realize everyone we see was once a little child. A cute toddler bouncing around. And at some point, that changes. Children become adults who aren't all that cute anymore. Some of them grow up to be adults that do horrible things to other people, to children. I see situations between a mother and her adult child where things have completely disintegrated. I think, how was this woman with her child when it was an infant? Toddler? Child? It makes me sad. Where and when did things go wrong? When did the child pull away? Why? Perhaps my own distant relationship with my mother plays a part in that as well. I don't want Daya to lack what I lacked in that relationship sense.
My approach to being in charge isn't so much to control Daya-I see my role more as managing her boundaries. Sometimes I wish I could see myself as a toddler and how was my daily life? How did my mother interact with me? I have a few clear memories but its not the same thing as observing behaviour. I do think kids are born automatically loving their parents/caregivers. I also firmly believe that the trust a child has in a parent is inherent in its beginning, but must always be maintained. I believe that while kids are, of course, forgiving, the trust that is established can be broken and dramatically impacted before the child is even of the age of remembering stuff.
Childhood should be a time that is safe, secure, and magical. With a backdrop of a constant presence of familarity and a lot of love. I hope I can somehow teach Daya to keep her magic as she grows up.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Morning Thought
I'm not feeling so great ( am fighting off Daya's newest cold) so I'm not in the mood to write elaborately.
But.
I was just thinking about the state of affairs in the world today, current and upcoming wars, governments doing what they do, common people, suffering, etc. That kind of thing. It's nothing new; humanity has always acted as such. Empires rise and fall. Though, I think perhaps (at least in more developed countries) we've come to a certain place as common people that perhaps humanity has never experienced before to such a scale. And perhaps it might turn out to make a huge difference after all.
The place I am talking about is the place of knowledge. People today are generally better educated and/or have access to a wealth of global information. Very recently in the history of humanity, this wasn't so. Good education isn't just for the elite anymore. Governments are no longer presiding over masses of ignorance. People are used to thinking, to having their own opinions and ideas. And maybe, just maybe, this will make a difference.
But.
I was just thinking about the state of affairs in the world today, current and upcoming wars, governments doing what they do, common people, suffering, etc. That kind of thing. It's nothing new; humanity has always acted as such. Empires rise and fall. Though, I think perhaps (at least in more developed countries) we've come to a certain place as common people that perhaps humanity has never experienced before to such a scale. And perhaps it might turn out to make a huge difference after all.
The place I am talking about is the place of knowledge. People today are generally better educated and/or have access to a wealth of global information. Very recently in the history of humanity, this wasn't so. Good education isn't just for the elite anymore. Governments are no longer presiding over masses of ignorance. People are used to thinking, to having their own opinions and ideas. And maybe, just maybe, this will make a difference.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
The Bug
There's a little stomach bug going around to a city near you. And me. And I got it. The fun started at 4am Friday morning. The night when Madame D was up every hour, then finally insisted on sleeping in bed with me.
I cannot remember the last time I was so ill. I was more functional right after my c-section. I was planning on working from home that day anyhow, so I had to call in sick from working from home. Thank all that is right and wonderful with the universe that Daya's sitter is right down the hall. This was very, very scary- I literally couldn't move. I haven't paid tithes to the Porcelain Gods since I was pregnant...and before that I cannot even recall. Thankfully it didn't last long, but M had to come get Daya that evening and keep her overnight because I was non-functional. Not safe for a toddler.
Being sick...I mean really, really ill, is the scariest part of being a single mom. Because there's no one else. I am so thankful for good friends. I am so thankful for my good health in general.
Saturday I was mostly better, and today I'm all better. So of course Daya has yet another stuffy nose and a borderline fever. This worked out in her favor though; she skipped her shot at the doctor's appointment.
I cannot remember the last time I was so ill. I was more functional right after my c-section. I was planning on working from home that day anyhow, so I had to call in sick from working from home. Thank all that is right and wonderful with the universe that Daya's sitter is right down the hall. This was very, very scary- I literally couldn't move. I haven't paid tithes to the Porcelain Gods since I was pregnant...and before that I cannot even recall. Thankfully it didn't last long, but M had to come get Daya that evening and keep her overnight because I was non-functional. Not safe for a toddler.
Being sick...I mean really, really ill, is the scariest part of being a single mom. Because there's no one else. I am so thankful for good friends. I am so thankful for my good health in general.
Saturday I was mostly better, and today I'm all better. So of course Daya has yet another stuffy nose and a borderline fever. This worked out in her favor though; she skipped her shot at the doctor's appointment.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Freedom
I had a nice chat with my single mom friend last night. We spoke about a lot of things; our lives, our histories, our kids, finances, and our families.
Some of the things we spoke about just drove home the point even more strongly that I am one of the fortunate ones. My friend spoke of extremely wealthy women she knows who are miserable in their mansions, in ther marriages. Silk-lined prisons. Lost identities. I spoke to her of the fortune we have to live in this time and place. Despite the system here being pretty awful in many respects, the fact remains that we are able to have the lives that we do. We are able to work and raise our children on our own. In many cultures and places, and in the not-so-distant past, what we have chosen would be impossible.
Janeen has been mentioning living as a single mom in a world of couples lately. I have found, especially in literature geared towards babies, there is a widespread assumption that a woman has a partner. Beth's post from Friday made me a little sad, because sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on irreplacable time with my daughter.
But, especially lately, I'm in a place of acceptance and contentment because I have a peaceful home and a sense of relative freedom. I am comfortable in my own skin. And, oddly enough, I feel very distant from even wanting a relationship.
Some of the things we spoke about just drove home the point even more strongly that I am one of the fortunate ones. My friend spoke of extremely wealthy women she knows who are miserable in their mansions, in ther marriages. Silk-lined prisons. Lost identities. I spoke to her of the fortune we have to live in this time and place. Despite the system here being pretty awful in many respects, the fact remains that we are able to have the lives that we do. We are able to work and raise our children on our own. In many cultures and places, and in the not-so-distant past, what we have chosen would be impossible.
Janeen has been mentioning living as a single mom in a world of couples lately. I have found, especially in literature geared towards babies, there is a widespread assumption that a woman has a partner. Beth's post from Friday made me a little sad, because sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on irreplacable time with my daughter.
But, especially lately, I'm in a place of acceptance and contentment because I have a peaceful home and a sense of relative freedom. I am comfortable in my own skin. And, oddly enough, I feel very distant from even wanting a relationship.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
I NO!
Toddlers are really weird creatures. Seriously so. I really enjoy this about Daya.
She regularly says two phrases, "I do!" and "I no!". "I do!" originated as a non-descript but oft-repeated "aaaaahhh-jooooo", and no one is really sure if it was originally a mutant variant of "Hello!" or "How are you?", but it got refined to "I do!". "I no!" is a new one, I guess she's starting to mix and match words together.
So Daya has this strange rash. it started out as little bumps on her back, and has now spread to her arms and belly. The doctor isn't worried, since there are no other symptoms and Daya herself couldn't care less about it. I think it's just something that will disappear as mysteriously as it appeared. Just more toddler weirdness.
She regularly says two phrases, "I do!" and "I no!". "I do!" originated as a non-descript but oft-repeated "aaaaahhh-jooooo", and no one is really sure if it was originally a mutant variant of "Hello!" or "How are you?", but it got refined to "I do!". "I no!" is a new one, I guess she's starting to mix and match words together.
So Daya has this strange rash. it started out as little bumps on her back, and has now spread to her arms and belly. The doctor isn't worried, since there are no other symptoms and Daya herself couldn't care less about it. I think it's just something that will disappear as mysteriously as it appeared. Just more toddler weirdness.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Priorities
I was a little bit late to work this morning.
Daya woke up a little early, and she was still a little sleepy and wanted to snuggle for a while. So we did.
You can't ever buy those moments; that is what the substance of life is made up of. That is what is really important. The office can wait. No one even cared I was a few minutes late.
Daya woke up a little early, and she was still a little sleepy and wanted to snuggle for a while. So we did.
You can't ever buy those moments; that is what the substance of life is made up of. That is what is really important. The office can wait. No one even cared I was a few minutes late.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Studio
The other day I finally unpacked my art stuff. I've been slowly working myself up to begin painting again. To finally make some progress in my Lands of Space series. To finally do a portrait of Daya.
And it starts with my least favorite task: cleaning my palette. I hate cleaning my palette. It's been sitting for almost a year and some of the paint piles are still wet underneath. :)
I wonder if I would get more work done if I painted in acrylic......I can go FAST in acrylic. But I hate glazing in acrylic, and the fast drying time is as much as curse as it is convenient. And I spend a lot of time trying to keep the palette from drying out. Oils teach me patience and they smell sooooo good. If there was a linseed oil room freshener I'd use it. Or maybe I'll get clever and put a little linseed oil in my oil burner. I guess, for me, it's like making pancakes- the low heat (slow drying time) and a little patience make much better results.
Misunderstood Serenity
I always wondered why is it that people assume something is wrong with someone if they are quiet? They think somethng is wrong and you just don't want to talk about it. They don't understand that you are just experiencing peace.
For the last few days I have been basking in a blissful calm serenity, and when I am in this state I am not in the mood for conversation. Especially at work. I keep to myself as much as possible.
Does silence scare people? I understand that this culture is one of neurotic noise, external action, extroversion, pushing, going up.
But for those of us who aren't like that, leave us alone and stop thinking something is wrong with us when we are simply quietly serene.
For the last few days I have been basking in a blissful calm serenity, and when I am in this state I am not in the mood for conversation. Especially at work. I keep to myself as much as possible.
Does silence scare people? I understand that this culture is one of neurotic noise, external action, extroversion, pushing, going up.
But for those of us who aren't like that, leave us alone and stop thinking something is wrong with us when we are simply quietly serene.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Patanjali
"When you are steadfast in your abstention of thoughts of harm directed towards others and yourself, all living creatures will cease to feel emnity in your presence."
Sunday, February 25, 2007
I Messed Up!
Thank Goddess kids are forgiving and don't remember everything!
Daya didn't take much of a nap today, so she was full-fledged Madame Crankypants at 5:30.
Which is too early for bed and too late for a nap. But when the child is crying and laying down on the floor face down with her butt sticking up in the air, well, something has to give.
I said 30 minutes. Which turned into 45. I woke her up. Bad idea. So I waited a few minutes, then put her back to bed. Worse idea. Now she still wants to sleep but can't fall asleep properly.
It's been quiet in there...so hopefully she'll stay asleep. She keeps waking sporadically. Have been kicking myself for the past hour.
Crap she's up again.
Daya didn't take much of a nap today, so she was full-fledged Madame Crankypants at 5:30.
Which is too early for bed and too late for a nap. But when the child is crying and laying down on the floor face down with her butt sticking up in the air, well, something has to give.
I said 30 minutes. Which turned into 45. I woke her up. Bad idea. So I waited a few minutes, then put her back to bed. Worse idea. Now she still wants to sleep but can't fall asleep properly.
It's been quiet in there...so hopefully she'll stay asleep. She keeps waking sporadically. Have been kicking myself for the past hour.
Crap she's up again.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Fun and Special Game
I'm feeling much better today. It's nice to have a day where I don't have to do anything. I feel like I should take Daya to the park or something, but I just don't feel like going out.
Madame D found a new game to play this morning. A very Fun and Special game. It involves sticking a toddler spoon so far into her mouth, down her throat, that she pukes. She didn't get upset, she puked a bit, then smiled and offered me the spoon.
Ah well, she needed a bath anyhow.
Madame D found a new game to play this morning. A very Fun and Special game. It involves sticking a toddler spoon so far into her mouth, down her throat, that she pukes. She didn't get upset, she puked a bit, then smiled and offered me the spoon.
Ah well, she needed a bath anyhow.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Dear God
Dear God,
Thank you for the difficult days when my heart gets very tired. It's easy to be happy and blissful and spiritual when days are good. But life isn't always as such, and it's days like today that I can really see and know how strong my connection is. Thank you for the experience of being able to connect when feelings are tough. Thank you for the contrast that enables me to know my true nature, even when juxtaposed with other things within.
I know that the true testament to faith, and applying the strength of a spiritual fundation happens when we are faced with adversity, whether circumstantial, physical, or emotional. Thank you for being such a strong presence that I can rest in when life gets weary.
Thank you for giving me peace and calm when I am feeling down.
Love,
J
Thank you for the difficult days when my heart gets very tired. It's easy to be happy and blissful and spiritual when days are good. But life isn't always as such, and it's days like today that I can really see and know how strong my connection is. Thank you for the experience of being able to connect when feelings are tough. Thank you for the contrast that enables me to know my true nature, even when juxtaposed with other things within.
I know that the true testament to faith, and applying the strength of a spiritual fundation happens when we are faced with adversity, whether circumstantial, physical, or emotional. Thank you for being such a strong presence that I can rest in when life gets weary.
Thank you for giving me peace and calm when I am feeling down.
Love,
J
Thursday, February 22, 2007
MAD
When I'm mad, I can shoot laser beams out of my eyes.
Yes I really can.
And I'm SO MAD right now but it'll blow over.
Crappy co-workers are just part of life.
Yes I really can.
And I'm SO MAD right now but it'll blow over.
Crappy co-workers are just part of life.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Evening Solitude
Night time starts when Daya falls asleep.
This is my favourite time of day, when the world starts to settle down. Here is the stillness and solitude that only the darkness can bring. Deep silence is difficult to find in the city; our culture is one of neurosis and noise. I need silence like oxygen.
Often, I wish to live in a society that values reflection, introspection, slow movement, and quiet. Treating others gently. Noticing small things. The secret to having enough time is to stop rushing around. Rushing is pushing, forcing. It blocks flow.
Today on one of my commutes, I cannot remember if it was morning or evening, someone ran up behind me and roughly shoved me aside without a thought or a word of apology, just in hopes of catching the train. For something so meaningless. I do not get angry at these occurrences; I just observe it. I think it's sad, the way we treat each other in general. No wonder people die of heart attacks right and left. Living in that sort of mentality. In New York City, everyone seems to be getting from one point to the next as fast as possible, then rushing madly to something else. People miss the journey altogether, much less enjoy it. How our society has become so neurotic we can't even recognize it anymore. The mindlessness of the media. People get so upset when their expectations are disrupted. Everything now. And we wonder why our children are so neurotic. I think the detachment from nature has everything to do with it.
In my heart I am not in this city. I am back smelling the grass, feeling the dampness of the earth on my hands. I can feel the silence of an open night sky, the wind rustling in the trees. The embrace of Gaia. We always end up being where we need to be in the right time; I have trust in flow. We are always taken care of. She always sends reminders, when I need them the most.
And as antsy as I am getting, to get back to more natural surroundings, I still feel I'm not quite finished here. Not quite yet. Almost.
This is my favourite time of day, when the world starts to settle down. Here is the stillness and solitude that only the darkness can bring. Deep silence is difficult to find in the city; our culture is one of neurosis and noise. I need silence like oxygen.
Often, I wish to live in a society that values reflection, introspection, slow movement, and quiet. Treating others gently. Noticing small things. The secret to having enough time is to stop rushing around. Rushing is pushing, forcing. It blocks flow.
Today on one of my commutes, I cannot remember if it was morning or evening, someone ran up behind me and roughly shoved me aside without a thought or a word of apology, just in hopes of catching the train. For something so meaningless. I do not get angry at these occurrences; I just observe it. I think it's sad, the way we treat each other in general. No wonder people die of heart attacks right and left. Living in that sort of mentality. In New York City, everyone seems to be getting from one point to the next as fast as possible, then rushing madly to something else. People miss the journey altogether, much less enjoy it. How our society has become so neurotic we can't even recognize it anymore. The mindlessness of the media. People get so upset when their expectations are disrupted. Everything now. And we wonder why our children are so neurotic. I think the detachment from nature has everything to do with it.
In my heart I am not in this city. I am back smelling the grass, feeling the dampness of the earth on my hands. I can feel the silence of an open night sky, the wind rustling in the trees. The embrace of Gaia. We always end up being where we need to be in the right time; I have trust in flow. We are always taken care of. She always sends reminders, when I need them the most.
And as antsy as I am getting, to get back to more natural surroundings, I still feel I'm not quite finished here. Not quite yet. Almost.
Fragments
Sometimes little fragments of a long-past conversation resurface periodically. I have a recurring one, here at work.
There's a girl who works here. She's young, pretty, smart, athletic, and very good at what she does. She's basically a nice person. She grew up with money and has money, a nice home, nice boyfriend, etc. And she said something in a conversation, last year, that I still think about. A small, almost hidden comment. I forget the actual context...but it may have had to do with shopping, athletics, something along those lines. She said, perhaps not verbatim but close enough, "You do these things, to try and fill the emptiness inside."
Something about the way she said it, the tone, the air about it, implied and took for granted that the others in the conversaton knew and understood exactly what she was talking about and experienced the same thing. And I could only think to myself, how very, very sad.
There's a girl who works here. She's young, pretty, smart, athletic, and very good at what she does. She's basically a nice person. She grew up with money and has money, a nice home, nice boyfriend, etc. And she said something in a conversation, last year, that I still think about. A small, almost hidden comment. I forget the actual context...but it may have had to do with shopping, athletics, something along those lines. She said, perhaps not verbatim but close enough, "You do these things, to try and fill the emptiness inside."
Something about the way she said it, the tone, the air about it, implied and took for granted that the others in the conversaton knew and understood exactly what she was talking about and experienced the same thing. And I could only think to myself, how very, very sad.
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