I was forced tonight to really take a look at the road on which my life's journey is traveling. When I look back, I was shaken to discover that the path I have already trodden is crumbling and littered with cracks and missing chunks of pavement.
If I were to be honest with myself, I would admit that I need a really stark reminder that you can't go back in life, you have to keep moving forward. How many times have I been tempted by memories of what I used to have, or where I used to live, and yearn to go back to that time? How much does my heart ache to have back my life in Israel or Nashville, with certain changes? I guess the crumbling of the sidewalk is a good thing, or I would be tempted to try to go back.
But the people I knew in those places in Time are gone. The country, city, politics, society have all changed. The dynamics are different, and not necessarily navigable anymore. *I* have changed, too. Even worse, the memories I have picked up from those chapters of my life were linked to physical items, like a quilt, each panel symbolizing another experience. And all those physical mementos are gone, too. So what sum of my experience remains? How am I to prove to myself that I did indeed do that, live there, go through this? Memory becomes cloudy as time goes on, and I need to touch, feel, be reminded of those times and relationships. But that link is gone. Crumbled. Eroded. Washed away.
So now I look forward and what do I see? That *is* the question, isn't it? Nothing that I feel excited about. Nothing that looks like a path I'd be interested in exploring. No vibrant colors, people, places. Just a grayish mist, opaque. Perhaps we make our paths by creating opportunities for choice. Maybe I have not fully explored all my options and opened up new pathways for myself. Maybe it's just overcast right now, and once the sun comes out, things will take on more color. I hope that the future holds for me paths to follow that are ribbons of color.
I'm waiting for the sun.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Did I tell you I was pregnant?
So - yeah. We gave birth on April 4, 2009 at 11:37pm. I wonder if that is the correct term considering it was a last minute C-section, after being in contractions for 30 hours and not going anywhere.
Anyways, our daughter is a gorgeous little angel, 6 lbs and 10 oz. I know all you parents out there think, no, KNOW, your kids are gorgeous, and I am not arguing with your taste - but I have it on really good authority, besides my own and Chewbacca's, that she is beautiful, gorgeous, radiant and a perfect little human.
I didn't mention the pregnancy because it was kind of up and down for me emotionally, though there were no complications or major health issues. I really had nothing to complain about.... except being pregnant, which I wasn't entirely ready for.
That's all water under the bridge now. My daughter is the lodestone of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Anyways, our daughter is a gorgeous little angel, 6 lbs and 10 oz. I know all you parents out there think, no, KNOW, your kids are gorgeous, and I am not arguing with your taste - but I have it on really good authority, besides my own and Chewbacca's, that she is beautiful, gorgeous, radiant and a perfect little human.
I didn't mention the pregnancy because it was kind of up and down for me emotionally, though there were no complications or major health issues. I really had nothing to complain about.... except being pregnant, which I wasn't entirely ready for.
That's all water under the bridge now. My daughter is the lodestone of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Been a while...
Timing is everything.
Sometimes you have so much to say, it crowds up your head and creates a constipation of ideas. And sometimes there is this fear that if you actually write it down, and send it out into cyberspace, it will come back and bite you at some point. I don't feel that each and every thought I have should be given free reign in this space. Some are too volatile to really be expressed safely.
I was going to list all the stresses that I am feeling, and all the things that are currently weighing my spirit down. I was going to describe the depression, Oh excuse me, RECESSION, of my natural positive personality. But I can't. I am too tired. I am emotionally wiped out from actually living through it. I can't make a laundry list of the issues. Putting them down would be overwhelming and crushing to my already fragile emotional state.
This space is supposed to be a cleansing space. A place to let out those thoughts and emotions which keep me from getting a good night's sleep. The replaying of meetings, incidents and "should have said" that torture me all the time in the back of my mind. To sweep the dissatisfaction, disappointment and anxiety out in one, healthy outlet.
But I can't. Timing is everything.
Sometimes you have so much to say, it crowds up your head and creates a constipation of ideas. And sometimes there is this fear that if you actually write it down, and send it out into cyberspace, it will come back and bite you at some point. I don't feel that each and every thought I have should be given free reign in this space. Some are too volatile to really be expressed safely.
I was going to list all the stresses that I am feeling, and all the things that are currently weighing my spirit down. I was going to describe the depression, Oh excuse me, RECESSION, of my natural positive personality. But I can't. I am too tired. I am emotionally wiped out from actually living through it. I can't make a laundry list of the issues. Putting them down would be overwhelming and crushing to my already fragile emotional state.
This space is supposed to be a cleansing space. A place to let out those thoughts and emotions which keep me from getting a good night's sleep. The replaying of meetings, incidents and "should have said" that torture me all the time in the back of my mind. To sweep the dissatisfaction, disappointment and anxiety out in one, healthy outlet.
But I can't. Timing is everything.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Times - they are a'changin'
We actually thought about buying a house. I mean, we seriously looked into it with a mortgage broker and stuff. Who would have thought? Six years ago I was Bankrupt, nearly destitute, and living on peanut butter sandwiches.
If I actually look back at things, I am pretty amazed at how I have picked myself up. And boy have I learned the lessons, man.
We decided not to buy right now, because though we can TECHNICALLY afford it, as in, we have the money to cover it NOW, we aren't comfortable with having nearly no margin of error. If one of us lost our jobs, we'd be so up that creek... so we decided that the timing wasn't quiet right.
Then Lehman Brothers and Merril Lynch happened. And you know what? I don't think I trust this whole financial atmosphere right now. Banks are scrambling. Mortgages will be ridiculous so that they cover their butts on the loans. And I don't think we are finished seeing the backlash. My dream is still to own MY OWN place, not an apartment, I am so over that, but a home, a real place where I can paint walls whatever I want, and decorate things according to my own tastes. And to have a large yard attached to said location.
But it is not happening right now, and I am not really sure I'd be comfortable in this market getting involved with that right now. I still have a little bit of a refugee mentality where I need to be mobile enough to pick up and move if need be and not be shackled with things like property bogging me down.
No doubt I will grow out of that at some point.
In the meantime, I am still apartment bound, but feeling quite mature and clever about it because it was a choice.
If I actually look back at things, I am pretty amazed at how I have picked myself up. And boy have I learned the lessons, man.
We decided not to buy right now, because though we can TECHNICALLY afford it, as in, we have the money to cover it NOW, we aren't comfortable with having nearly no margin of error. If one of us lost our jobs, we'd be so up that creek... so we decided that the timing wasn't quiet right.
Then Lehman Brothers and Merril Lynch happened. And you know what? I don't think I trust this whole financial atmosphere right now. Banks are scrambling. Mortgages will be ridiculous so that they cover their butts on the loans. And I don't think we are finished seeing the backlash. My dream is still to own MY OWN place, not an apartment, I am so over that, but a home, a real place where I can paint walls whatever I want, and decorate things according to my own tastes. And to have a large yard attached to said location.
But it is not happening right now, and I am not really sure I'd be comfortable in this market getting involved with that right now. I still have a little bit of a refugee mentality where I need to be mobile enough to pick up and move if need be and not be shackled with things like property bogging me down.
No doubt I will grow out of that at some point.
In the meantime, I am still apartment bound, but feeling quite mature and clever about it because it was a choice.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
An open letter to my husband:
Sweetie:
I was thinking of some of the discussions we've been having recently about Fathers. Maybe it is because of Father's Day and the fact that you were the first, and maybe only, son to call your dad. And of course the presence of the controversy and tension that swirls around my dad all the time, and the conflict it creates between us.
I was thinking about my younger siblings, and how I love spending time with them, and being part of their lives. And how much I wished I had a father when I was growing up, and even now, who gave a brass farthing for me and was a real presence in my life. I wonder if you understand that it has been a dear wish for all three of us to have a real Father and that we are all lacking. Even now we all struggle with reconciling He Who is our Father with what our ideal would be in a Dad. I know that you may think I am just asking for my heart to be broken repeatedly, and you know, you are probably right. But I can't help hoping and wishing that I had a father, and that wish keeps me trying to make something out of what is, which in reality can never be.
You don't understand, having grown up with both your parents around, and your siblings all nearby, how lucky and spoiled you are. Not spoiled in a bad way - but in a super lucky, I am jealous of you way. Though of course there were rougher times, and you didn't always get along with everyone, never was your closeness undermined or the love you all had for each other questioned.
One of the reasons I love you so much is because I know that one day you'll be a wonderful father - and the kind of father I had always wanted for myself. I can see how involved you'll be, and attentive. And you will want to give your kids the whole world, not make grand promises and then go back on your word. I can see you teaching them about things you love, not competing with them as they grow in knowledge and experience. I can see you respecting them and their choices, not being negative, critical and small-minded. I can see you appreciating their individual achievements in life, and not compare them one to the other, as if they have to be measured against each other in order to count in the world.
One day, I can see you being everything that our fathers are not. You will be a strong role model where they were weak, each in his own way. And though you don't really get the whole deal when it comes to me and my dad, I love the fact that you'd never put YOUR kids in that kind of situation and the buck stops here, so to speak.
I love that I look at you, and see someone who will be the person I would have wanted as my own dad. And I love that it is you.
I was thinking of some of the discussions we've been having recently about Fathers. Maybe it is because of Father's Day and the fact that you were the first, and maybe only, son to call your dad. And of course the presence of the controversy and tension that swirls around my dad all the time, and the conflict it creates between us.
I was thinking about my younger siblings, and how I love spending time with them, and being part of their lives. And how much I wished I had a father when I was growing up, and even now, who gave a brass farthing for me and was a real presence in my life. I wonder if you understand that it has been a dear wish for all three of us to have a real Father and that we are all lacking. Even now we all struggle with reconciling He Who is our Father with what our ideal would be in a Dad. I know that you may think I am just asking for my heart to be broken repeatedly, and you know, you are probably right. But I can't help hoping and wishing that I had a father, and that wish keeps me trying to make something out of what is, which in reality can never be.
You don't understand, having grown up with both your parents around, and your siblings all nearby, how lucky and spoiled you are. Not spoiled in a bad way - but in a super lucky, I am jealous of you way. Though of course there were rougher times, and you didn't always get along with everyone, never was your closeness undermined or the love you all had for each other questioned.
One of the reasons I love you so much is because I know that one day you'll be a wonderful father - and the kind of father I had always wanted for myself. I can see how involved you'll be, and attentive. And you will want to give your kids the whole world, not make grand promises and then go back on your word. I can see you teaching them about things you love, not competing with them as they grow in knowledge and experience. I can see you respecting them and their choices, not being negative, critical and small-minded. I can see you appreciating their individual achievements in life, and not compare them one to the other, as if they have to be measured against each other in order to count in the world.
One day, I can see you being everything that our fathers are not. You will be a strong role model where they were weak, each in his own way. And though you don't really get the whole deal when it comes to me and my dad, I love the fact that you'd never put YOUR kids in that kind of situation and the buck stops here, so to speak.
I love that I look at you, and see someone who will be the person I would have wanted as my own dad. And I love that it is you.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Annie and Anniversary...been a busy time
So, our first anniversary passed. And we decided to celebrate it on June 1 instead of May 13 because Chewy is in finals in school.
On June 1 we went into the city, and Chewy pulled a fast one on me! I knew we were going to Broadway, but I had no idea what show we were going to see. And I didn't try to needle him or find out, but finally on the train I decided to ask him. He said to me, "Ok, I will give you a list of 5". So he listed Young Frankenstein, Little Mermaid, Spamalot, Lion King and Jersey Boys. So between you and me, I have major issues with Disney's not so subtle takeover of Broadway, which had long been cherished as having a certain standard of theater. Taking popular animated films and putting them on the same stages that housed "The King and I" with Yul Brenner, or my favorite though short-lived show, "The Scarlet Pimpernel", smacks of disrespect. I find it very commercial consumerism of Disney to try and make money by branching out into this media.
you can imagine that I was less than thrilled about "Lion King" and "Little Mermaid" being on the list. (I actually have already seen Lion King in London). Spamalot I have never been interested in, and Young Frankenstein is a huge No. I don't know much about Jersey Boys, which makes me nervous... especially considering how much money you'd have to put down to see any of these shows nowadays...on the other hand, I didn't want Chewy to think I was unappreciative. So it was a tough struggle.
I said, "What about Avenue Q?" It was a show I had wanted to see, after hearing alot about it. It is with live people and puppets, you have to see it to understand... and Chewy said, "Don't you remember? It went out of theaters." I had forgotten. I was like, "Oh, man, I forgot."
After a little while, I got out of him that we were going to 45th street. WELL!! I know for a fact that Youg Frankenstein is on 42nd across from Madame Tussaud's, so that was out. And I thought that Spamalot was on 44th, so I figured that was out, too.
When we got to 45th street, I saw a huge sign that said "THE LION KING" and my heart sunk. Not only was I against the Disneficatioin of Broadway, but I had already seen this!! I turned to Chewy and said, "Are we going to the Lion King?" and hes was grinning at me, with this little evil glint in his eye... "No" he said, "let's walk down the block."
You'll never believe it.... We walked down the block and all of a sudden, I saw it - "AVENUE Q"
!!!!!!!!
Apparently it had come back to the theater and Chewy had gotten tickets for us to see it~ what a cool surprise and also he totally faked me out!
It was good, though I liked it better than Chewy did, some parts were REALLY inappropriate. But some were super funny.
It was a cool surprise :)
I am involved in Stage Managing ANNIE, the musical, on Father's Day. It is with 35 girls of assorted ages, and things are coming together. We had a horrible dress rehearsal, but that's ok, it means it will be a terrific show. I know these kids can put it together. In the meantime, my car is jammed with boxes of props that I need to sort out :)
On June 1 we went into the city, and Chewy pulled a fast one on me! I knew we were going to Broadway, but I had no idea what show we were going to see. And I didn't try to needle him or find out, but finally on the train I decided to ask him. He said to me, "Ok, I will give you a list of 5". So he listed Young Frankenstein, Little Mermaid, Spamalot, Lion King and Jersey Boys. So between you and me, I have major issues with Disney's not so subtle takeover of Broadway, which had long been cherished as having a certain standard of theater. Taking popular animated films and putting them on the same stages that housed "The King and I" with Yul Brenner, or my favorite though short-lived show, "The Scarlet Pimpernel", smacks of disrespect. I find it very commercial consumerism of Disney to try and make money by branching out into this media.
you can imagine that I was less than thrilled about "Lion King" and "Little Mermaid" being on the list. (I actually have already seen Lion King in London). Spamalot I have never been interested in, and Young Frankenstein is a huge No. I don't know much about Jersey Boys, which makes me nervous... especially considering how much money you'd have to put down to see any of these shows nowadays...on the other hand, I didn't want Chewy to think I was unappreciative. So it was a tough struggle.
I said, "What about Avenue Q?" It was a show I had wanted to see, after hearing alot about it. It is with live people and puppets, you have to see it to understand... and Chewy said, "Don't you remember? It went out of theaters." I had forgotten. I was like, "Oh, man, I forgot."
After a little while, I got out of him that we were going to 45th street. WELL!! I know for a fact that Youg Frankenstein is on 42nd across from Madame Tussaud's, so that was out. And I thought that Spamalot was on 44th, so I figured that was out, too.
When we got to 45th street, I saw a huge sign that said "THE LION KING" and my heart sunk. Not only was I against the Disneficatioin of Broadway, but I had already seen this!! I turned to Chewy and said, "Are we going to the Lion King?" and hes was grinning at me, with this little evil glint in his eye... "No" he said, "let's walk down the block."
You'll never believe it.... We walked down the block and all of a sudden, I saw it - "AVENUE Q"
!!!!!!!!
Apparently it had come back to the theater and Chewy had gotten tickets for us to see it~ what a cool surprise and also he totally faked me out!
It was good, though I liked it better than Chewy did, some parts were REALLY inappropriate. But some were super funny.
It was a cool surprise :)
I am involved in Stage Managing ANNIE, the musical, on Father's Day. It is with 35 girls of assorted ages, and things are coming together. We had a horrible dress rehearsal, but that's ok, it means it will be a terrific show. I know these kids can put it together. In the meantime, my car is jammed with boxes of props that I need to sort out :)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
1st Anniversary of Love :)
Can you believe today is our first anniversary?!
I can't.
In some ways, it was like, last week or something when we got married. But on the other hand, I feel like it was so far away - I am so different from that person I was then. A short year ago.
I don't mean to be negative, but I feel older. Not necessarily chronologically, but I feel more Whole somehow, like a more complete person, and therefore, an Adult-type person. It's very different but not in a bad way. Maybe the word is not older, but more mature - or aged as in wine or cheese. Ageing implies both a growth in experience and emotional give and take. It implies not just the day-by-day growth of being a eyar older, but also of being a year wiser experientially.
A year is a full cycle of life. Of holidays, deaths and births. Of life-cycle events such as weddings, bar mitzvahs, graduations. It would be silly to assume anything would stay the same over such a ponderous amount of time, but still it amazes me to look back and see how far we've come, how much we've grown and the obstacles we have left behind.
I could not conceivably live without Chewy now. My soul, as I told him, has become entwined in his so completely as to be unable to function alone. My concept of "person" has become "us" and "we", not "I". Though I am still muchly an independant thinker and person, marching still to that lone drum in my heart, I am more guided than I used to be to the rhythms of Our hearts.
I have to say, it is the most comforting, wonderful feeling.
I love the feeling of chewy's strong arms around me, and the musky man-smell when I bury my head in his chest or that little nook between his neck and shoulder where my head *just* fits comfortably. I love the softness of his skin and his loving and liquid brown eyes looking at me in the morning when I wake up.
I love the way he is SO cute and makes me smile even when I am just thinking about him. I catch myself more than I am willing to admit, with a silly smirk on my face, at all times of day!
It's been a whole year. And we have not only survived, but I believe forged something strong, and lasting. And deepend that which was already there.
Here is to many more loving years together.
I can't.
In some ways, it was like, last week or something when we got married. But on the other hand, I feel like it was so far away - I am so different from that person I was then. A short year ago.
I don't mean to be negative, but I feel older. Not necessarily chronologically, but I feel more Whole somehow, like a more complete person, and therefore, an Adult-type person. It's very different but not in a bad way. Maybe the word is not older, but more mature - or aged as in wine or cheese. Ageing implies both a growth in experience and emotional give and take. It implies not just the day-by-day growth of being a eyar older, but also of being a year wiser experientially.
A year is a full cycle of life. Of holidays, deaths and births. Of life-cycle events such as weddings, bar mitzvahs, graduations. It would be silly to assume anything would stay the same over such a ponderous amount of time, but still it amazes me to look back and see how far we've come, how much we've grown and the obstacles we have left behind.
I could not conceivably live without Chewy now. My soul, as I told him, has become entwined in his so completely as to be unable to function alone. My concept of "person" has become "us" and "we", not "I". Though I am still muchly an independant thinker and person, marching still to that lone drum in my heart, I am more guided than I used to be to the rhythms of Our hearts.
I have to say, it is the most comforting, wonderful feeling.
I love the feeling of chewy's strong arms around me, and the musky man-smell when I bury my head in his chest or that little nook between his neck and shoulder where my head *just* fits comfortably. I love the softness of his skin and his loving and liquid brown eyes looking at me in the morning when I wake up.
I love the way he is SO cute and makes me smile even when I am just thinking about him. I catch myself more than I am willing to admit, with a silly smirk on my face, at all times of day!
It's been a whole year. And we have not only survived, but I believe forged something strong, and lasting. And deepend that which was already there.
Here is to many more loving years together.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Israelitis - a Relapse
I find myself missing Israel with an ache that’s hard to ignore. In some ways, my years living there were some of the best of my life. I am fully aware that you can’t go back in time, and about 9 times out of 10 I manage to convince myself that I am not trying to. But I find myself missing the way the light hits the stones in the morning, the smell of the morning air in Jerusalem, the birds migrating through the Hula valley, and the specialness of the country.
I am also painfully and intellectually aware that the political, social and economic situation there has changed for the worse, with no end to the downward spiral in sight. If I were to take a cold, logical look at it, the idea of going back to Israel to live is at best ridiculous. Other words might be irresponsible, risky, HUGE, scary and tremendously difficult.
Just so I don’t completely idealize the country, I also have to say that I *don’t* miss the general Israeli attitude to things like customer service, passing on the highways, Ashkenaz vs. Sefard, Chiloni vs. Charedi, and the anti-IDF sentiment that is brewing all over the country. I have had plenty of frustrating and painful experiences trying to “absorb” into the culture. I hate the pressurized atmosphere of a people who are always on constant guard against enemies constantly seeking their lives. And don’t get me started on the driving and creative parking! I abhor the politics, and the politicizing of just about everything. I hate the bureaucracy which is on a whole new level of teeth-gnashing incompetence. I remember that it can also be totally frustrating to live there. Why do you have to go to the post office to pay certain bills? Why aren’t banks open at normal hours? And forget the medical system - it is enough to drive anyone batty.
I would miss the Yankees and the Food Channel. And I love having Sundays to relax and do things, and an extra day off for Christmas, New Year’s and Thanksgiving. In that, I am very American.
On the other hand, I miss the sweeping and breathtaking beauty of the land. I miss the center of the world. I miss the feeling of brotherhood which binds everyone together when tragedies occur. I miss fresh rolls in the morning and the 10 o’clock mandatory coffee break. I miss the uniquely Israeli experiences and cultural phenomena.
I know that my friends have dispersed or died and that life as I knew it is no longer possible. But I look back with longing on the little cafes in Baka that we used to sit in and gossip. I miss the theater in the German Colony of which I was an integral part. I miss exploring parts of the city that tourists don’t get to with my friends. I miss having people who have lived there for many years guide us around their towns and cities and make them come alive. I miss my adoptive families and watching them grow up, go to army and college, and being part of their everyday life.
I am torn between my hearts desires and my practical logical brain. There are so many hurdles to overcome if I was serious about trying again. I wonder if people make “3 year” pilot trips or something where they don’t actually commit to staying there, so it’s less scary to actually go. I wonder if the changes in the social and political structures are going to prove to be absolutely unbearable for me to live with.
I guess it is all romanticized conjecture anyways, because Chewy and I have more or less decided together that it isn’t realistic or feasible for us to plan to go back.
Still, I can’t help missing it and wondering…
I am also painfully and intellectually aware that the political, social and economic situation there has changed for the worse, with no end to the downward spiral in sight. If I were to take a cold, logical look at it, the idea of going back to Israel to live is at best ridiculous. Other words might be irresponsible, risky, HUGE, scary and tremendously difficult.
Just so I don’t completely idealize the country, I also have to say that I *don’t* miss the general Israeli attitude to things like customer service, passing on the highways, Ashkenaz vs. Sefard, Chiloni vs. Charedi, and the anti-IDF sentiment that is brewing all over the country. I have had plenty of frustrating and painful experiences trying to “absorb” into the culture. I hate the pressurized atmosphere of a people who are always on constant guard against enemies constantly seeking their lives. And don’t get me started on the driving and creative parking! I abhor the politics, and the politicizing of just about everything. I hate the bureaucracy which is on a whole new level of teeth-gnashing incompetence. I remember that it can also be totally frustrating to live there. Why do you have to go to the post office to pay certain bills? Why aren’t banks open at normal hours? And forget the medical system - it is enough to drive anyone batty.
I would miss the Yankees and the Food Channel. And I love having Sundays to relax and do things, and an extra day off for Christmas, New Year’s and Thanksgiving. In that, I am very American.
On the other hand, I miss the sweeping and breathtaking beauty of the land. I miss the center of the world. I miss the feeling of brotherhood which binds everyone together when tragedies occur. I miss fresh rolls in the morning and the 10 o’clock mandatory coffee break. I miss the uniquely Israeli experiences and cultural phenomena.
I know that my friends have dispersed or died and that life as I knew it is no longer possible. But I look back with longing on the little cafes in Baka that we used to sit in and gossip. I miss the theater in the German Colony of which I was an integral part. I miss exploring parts of the city that tourists don’t get to with my friends. I miss having people who have lived there for many years guide us around their towns and cities and make them come alive. I miss my adoptive families and watching them grow up, go to army and college, and being part of their everyday life.
I am torn between my hearts desires and my practical logical brain. There are so many hurdles to overcome if I was serious about trying again. I wonder if people make “3 year” pilot trips or something where they don’t actually commit to staying there, so it’s less scary to actually go. I wonder if the changes in the social and political structures are going to prove to be absolutely unbearable for me to live with.
I guess it is all romanticized conjecture anyways, because Chewy and I have more or less decided together that it isn’t realistic or feasible for us to plan to go back.
Still, I can’t help missing it and wondering…
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Men are Overgrown Children - and I am Fed Up
Let me tell you about me: I like to come home in the evening, get into pajamas as soon as possible because I hate clothing, and relax in relative quiet, reading or doing my thing. There aren’t many evenings a week I can do that, because Chewy is in school 2 nights a week, and I have errands, food shopping, swimming on Tuesdays, etc. So I cherish and look forward to the one or 2 evenings a week when we can just relax together.
Chewy likes to watch TV or movies with the sound up REALLY LOUD, all the freaking surround sound speakers screaming for attention from various points in the room at the same time, to “enhance” his “entertainment experience”. We have painfully worked out a system where Hubby can watch his assorted uh, stuff, with headphones on, so that I can, in blissful relative peace and quiet, sit next to him and read, and both of us are content and able to chill - together.
I need to add here that we live in a small apartment, with a small communal living/dining area. This is an important thing to mention, because if we are in an argument, or there are too many people around, there is nowhere to go. Someone has to stake out the living room and the other person is exiled in the bedroom. So yeah, it’s small.
I am mentioning this because the crux of my current throw-my-hands-up-in-the-air-and- give-up-exasperating-issue hinges on these 2 facts: 1) I like my quiet time and space in the evening and 2) there isn’t a lot of space to go around.
Now, in my humble (and probably idealistic) opinion, any husband worth his salt would already KNOW this about me, and take it into consideration when opportunities pop up. In our latest example of the childish selfishness of men, Chewy wanted to have 2 people over to watch the opening season Ballgame. It doesn’t matter who they are, (though Chewy thinks it does because he doesn’t trust me and his mind always thinks the worst of me and assumes the most outlandish and offensive motives to me – yet another irritating trait I hope he grows out of one day), my hesitation was SOLEY on the basis of feeling invaded in my sanctuary and being overrun by loud, noisy activity that will exile me to the bedroom for 3 hours.
He asked me can they come over and watch the game Monday night… I said I have to think about it.
Then I made a mistake.
Chewy said – what’s on your mind? And I should have said “World peace, the AIDS crisis in Africa, the rising costs of gasoline and would it be too much to watch all three Pirate of the Caribbean movies in a row?” Instead, I said, “well, you have a doctor’s appointment early Tuesday morning, the game is 3 hours long, and I will be totally displaced, what am I going to do with myself?”
So, though Chewy started with a great communication question – it degenerated into him being in a pet about not getting his way and thinking I am evil. And me being annoyed at his spoiled brat act and his lack of sensitivity to me.
Ladies out there – take it from me, DON’T BE HONEST with your childish, immature men. In cases such as these, the best answer is “I am wondering - do I have enough beer to go around?” and let them run off happily to go play in the mud, where they are happiest and in their element.
The most annoying part of this is that Chewy is now giving me the silent treatment, wasting a whole day of being married to me, and his energy being angry and it was started ALL ON HIS OWN. He created this negativity, not me, and it’s ruining his day. And he will probably come home later and bawl me out for starting it!! Really!
If he hadn’t assumed the worst of me, and gotten impatient and short tempered, then he probably would have ended up with a solution we both can live with. That is the reward of GOOD communication.
If Chewy were more of an ideal husband, he would have either let me think about it and NOT pressure me, or let me talk out what I was feeling and NOT get upset but let me process it, and in general NOT make assumptions and throw a fit when he doesn’t get his way. I might add, that he would have anticipated my hesitation, knowing how I feel at the end of the day and the issue on space, and either offered a solution or prefaced with, “I know it will cramp your style but this is special because it’s opening day, could you make an exception?” or something along those lines. I am not unreasonable; you just have to know how to talk to me. Here’s a hint – show some understanding and respect for how I feel, even if you don’t agree.
Chewy likes to watch TV or movies with the sound up REALLY LOUD, all the freaking surround sound speakers screaming for attention from various points in the room at the same time, to “enhance” his “entertainment experience”. We have painfully worked out a system where Hubby can watch his assorted uh, stuff, with headphones on, so that I can, in blissful relative peace and quiet, sit next to him and read, and both of us are content and able to chill - together.
I need to add here that we live in a small apartment, with a small communal living/dining area. This is an important thing to mention, because if we are in an argument, or there are too many people around, there is nowhere to go. Someone has to stake out the living room and the other person is exiled in the bedroom. So yeah, it’s small.
I am mentioning this because the crux of my current throw-my-hands-up-in-the-air-and- give-up-exasperating-issue hinges on these 2 facts: 1) I like my quiet time and space in the evening and 2) there isn’t a lot of space to go around.
Now, in my humble (and probably idealistic) opinion, any husband worth his salt would already KNOW this about me, and take it into consideration when opportunities pop up. In our latest example of the childish selfishness of men, Chewy wanted to have 2 people over to watch the opening season Ballgame. It doesn’t matter who they are, (though Chewy thinks it does because he doesn’t trust me and his mind always thinks the worst of me and assumes the most outlandish and offensive motives to me – yet another irritating trait I hope he grows out of one day), my hesitation was SOLEY on the basis of feeling invaded in my sanctuary and being overrun by loud, noisy activity that will exile me to the bedroom for 3 hours.
He asked me can they come over and watch the game Monday night… I said I have to think about it.
Then I made a mistake.
Chewy said – what’s on your mind? And I should have said “World peace, the AIDS crisis in Africa, the rising costs of gasoline and would it be too much to watch all three Pirate of the Caribbean movies in a row?” Instead, I said, “well, you have a doctor’s appointment early Tuesday morning, the game is 3 hours long, and I will be totally displaced, what am I going to do with myself?”
So, though Chewy started with a great communication question – it degenerated into him being in a pet about not getting his way and thinking I am evil. And me being annoyed at his spoiled brat act and his lack of sensitivity to me.
Ladies out there – take it from me, DON’T BE HONEST with your childish, immature men. In cases such as these, the best answer is “I am wondering - do I have enough beer to go around?” and let them run off happily to go play in the mud, where they are happiest and in their element.
The most annoying part of this is that Chewy is now giving me the silent treatment, wasting a whole day of being married to me, and his energy being angry and it was started ALL ON HIS OWN. He created this negativity, not me, and it’s ruining his day. And he will probably come home later and bawl me out for starting it!! Really!
If he hadn’t assumed the worst of me, and gotten impatient and short tempered, then he probably would have ended up with a solution we both can live with. That is the reward of GOOD communication.
If Chewy were more of an ideal husband, he would have either let me think about it and NOT pressure me, or let me talk out what I was feeling and NOT get upset but let me process it, and in general NOT make assumptions and throw a fit when he doesn’t get his way. I might add, that he would have anticipated my hesitation, knowing how I feel at the end of the day and the issue on space, and either offered a solution or prefaced with, “I know it will cramp your style but this is special because it’s opening day, could you make an exception?” or something along those lines. I am not unreasonable; you just have to know how to talk to me. Here’s a hint – show some understanding and respect for how I feel, even if you don’t agree.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Pesach Reconciliation
Okay. For the past couple of years I have been complaining about how much I hate Pesach (Passover) and the laundry-list of issues I face (along with upset stomach and a general feeling of malaise) leading up to this holiday. The part of it that’s a real shame is that I *love* this time of year! My favorite season is Spring, with Fall a close second. I like summer ok, but winter I can do without totally. I keep telling Chewy that we need to move to a location that’s near enough to the equator to mean no winters…
Back to Pesach. So this year, I am once again dragooned into a “family gathering” for the whole week. Last time that happened, 2 years ago, it was absolutely traumatic. I bitterly complained to my siblings, husband and laid the law down to everyone involved who would listen - which will probably be ignored - including all my requests for space and some extra booze.
Now it’s time for tactics. I have tried running away, “forgetting” that’s its Pesach, stocking up on comfort foods to get through, and feigning illness to get out of chol hamoed activities.
This year it has GOT to be different. At the very least, I need a break from the tiring exercise of getting out of spending time with The Family.
However, this year there are other variables which may be changing the situation as well. Extended family is coming, too – grandfather, aunt, uncle and cousins – more people! And this is the first Pesach that Chewy and I are married – so it also means we split meals between the families, which would mean a forced change of scenery.
Also, with nieces and nephews older and more Little People than Little Alarm Clocks, it changes the dynamics of our outings. Can you believe I am actually going to a circus?!
Dare I hope that this year we pass the tolerant mark and even hope for a “good” time?
Actually, the more I think about it, the more I am cautiously optimistic that it will be a decently enjoyable holiday.
Next issue to tackle - we have GOT to work on the food…Ugh.
Back to Pesach. So this year, I am once again dragooned into a “family gathering” for the whole week. Last time that happened, 2 years ago, it was absolutely traumatic. I bitterly complained to my siblings, husband and laid the law down to everyone involved who would listen - which will probably be ignored - including all my requests for space and some extra booze.
Now it’s time for tactics. I have tried running away, “forgetting” that’s its Pesach, stocking up on comfort foods to get through, and feigning illness to get out of chol hamoed activities.
This year it has GOT to be different. At the very least, I need a break from the tiring exercise of getting out of spending time with The Family.
However, this year there are other variables which may be changing the situation as well. Extended family is coming, too – grandfather, aunt, uncle and cousins – more people! And this is the first Pesach that Chewy and I are married – so it also means we split meals between the families, which would mean a forced change of scenery.
Also, with nieces and nephews older and more Little People than Little Alarm Clocks, it changes the dynamics of our outings. Can you believe I am actually going to a circus?!
Dare I hope that this year we pass the tolerant mark and even hope for a “good” time?
Actually, the more I think about it, the more I am cautiously optimistic that it will be a decently enjoyable holiday.
Next issue to tackle - we have GOT to work on the food…Ugh.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Gender Issues
After some thought on the matter, I have come to this conclusion: I am a complex feminist.
What I mean by that is that I am not a bra-burning woman who thinks that men are sub-humans and anything They can do, We can do better. However, by the same token, I believe that I too am not a sub-human just because I am a woman. In my opinion, men and woman have different strengths and weaknesses, and sometimes you’ll find a woman who is better at using power tools than a man, or a man who is better at shopping than a woman. Every person is unique in ability, interest and talent. Neither person in the example above deserves to be labeled “fey” or put down for their interests. The situation to me shows terrific diversity, especially since I fall into the category of power-tool loving women.
On the other hand, there are some things which I have very traditional, conservative views on when it comes to gender roles. For example, though I want to have a career and reach the top of my profession, I believe it is the role of the man (in a traditional family structure) to be the breadwinner in the family, to provide security and financial stability to the home, to provide for home and hearth, and to give the family all the creature comforts that are possible, within reason. It was always my paradigm that the man “knew” things – perhaps there was mandatory training for boys once they reached puberty in the following subjects: buying a car, (let’s call that “All about Cars” in general because it also includes Fixing the Car, Maintaining the Car, Pumping Gas and Changing the Tires) renting/buying an apartment/house, planning a vacation, chores that Men do (this one also includes Why Men Love Dogs, taking out the trash and a course in “How to NOT treat my home like a #$%@^% dorm room”.)
*Authors Note - I have heard from many an older woman that it takes time for men to learn to have pride in their homes and stop treating them like dumping grounds, dorm rooms and science experiments. Apparently, it’s a rite of passage that nearly every newlywed couple goes through.
Men, I always thought, were Responsible. To me they should carry a pride along with their sense of responsibility. I felt that a man knew that his place was to build up his family, to plan for the future, to have long reaching goals and ambitions, to be the visionary and the leader. I think that my childish expectations probably stem from not having a male figure in my life to learn from, to model my own home life after, and to use as the blueprint of what a Man does.
Perhaps due to my upbringing, I also feel that there are Womanly roles in the Home; decisions that are entirely in the Woman’s purview and are not to be questioned since these are the tasks of which she is master. For example, should a working woman decide that to keep her house clean to a proper and bacteria-free level, she needs to hire help once every 2 weeks for a few hours, well, in my opinion, that is her decision to make. She is the one in charge of maintaining the health of her home and family and she alone is in the position of assessing how much she can realistically get done. Though others may offer to help, it is not consistent and there are many tasks which need to be done on a regular basis in order to maintain a level of cleanliness and bacteria-free zones in the home. I honestly feel that it is absolutely NOT the business of the Man to interfere with the workings of the home. It is the woman’s responsibility and not subject to questioning or censure.
Additionally, I was raised to understand the subtleties in social situations, to know the etiquette called for in certain circumstances, and most of all, to do the right thing. In general, boys are not trained to appreciate cultivating friendships, strengthening bonds, keeping social appointments, and the ripple effects of these seemingly inconsequential affairs. It is easy to keep the same circle of friends forever, though times change, and people grow apart. But to make new friends and cultivate those relationships takes careful work, building, patience – nurturing like a gardener might do.
Why is it that a few decades ago a man would not question his wife when she made social plans for the couple, yet today I meet with resistance and interrogation? Is there something I have done to earn the distrust or suspicion I get when I propose meeting new people or spending time with them? And don’t get me started on how many social engagements we have made together only to back out at the last minute… it makes me totally embarrassed.
Lately, it feels to me that we seem to be having gender issues. I feel that I am being questioned and challenged about things which I ought to have complete autonomy to make decisions about. It seems that there’s a blurring of the lines. Maybe that’s me being an anti-feminist – some kind of throwback to medieval definitions of gender roles. But it’s confusing to me and frustrating because I am beginning to feel under fire in a realm which I always felt extremely secure and capable of executing my duties as I saw them.
By the same token, I think I have an unrealistic, or perhaps highly romanticized and idealized view of what the Man in the house is supposed to be. I’d like to take a good look around and find a model to work from than my girlish preconceptions. I think that too is adding to the gender confusion.
In any case, I don’t think I need to stop playing with power tools.
What I mean by that is that I am not a bra-burning woman who thinks that men are sub-humans and anything They can do, We can do better. However, by the same token, I believe that I too am not a sub-human just because I am a woman. In my opinion, men and woman have different strengths and weaknesses, and sometimes you’ll find a woman who is better at using power tools than a man, or a man who is better at shopping than a woman. Every person is unique in ability, interest and talent. Neither person in the example above deserves to be labeled “fey” or put down for their interests. The situation to me shows terrific diversity, especially since I fall into the category of power-tool loving women.
On the other hand, there are some things which I have very traditional, conservative views on when it comes to gender roles. For example, though I want to have a career and reach the top of my profession, I believe it is the role of the man (in a traditional family structure) to be the breadwinner in the family, to provide security and financial stability to the home, to provide for home and hearth, and to give the family all the creature comforts that are possible, within reason. It was always my paradigm that the man “knew” things – perhaps there was mandatory training for boys once they reached puberty in the following subjects: buying a car, (let’s call that “All about Cars” in general because it also includes Fixing the Car, Maintaining the Car, Pumping Gas and Changing the Tires) renting/buying an apartment/house, planning a vacation, chores that Men do (this one also includes Why Men Love Dogs, taking out the trash and a course in “How to NOT treat my home like a #$%@^% dorm room”.)
*Authors Note - I have heard from many an older woman that it takes time for men to learn to have pride in their homes and stop treating them like dumping grounds, dorm rooms and science experiments. Apparently, it’s a rite of passage that nearly every newlywed couple goes through.
Men, I always thought, were Responsible. To me they should carry a pride along with their sense of responsibility. I felt that a man knew that his place was to build up his family, to plan for the future, to have long reaching goals and ambitions, to be the visionary and the leader. I think that my childish expectations probably stem from not having a male figure in my life to learn from, to model my own home life after, and to use as the blueprint of what a Man does.
Perhaps due to my upbringing, I also feel that there are Womanly roles in the Home; decisions that are entirely in the Woman’s purview and are not to be questioned since these are the tasks of which she is master. For example, should a working woman decide that to keep her house clean to a proper and bacteria-free level, she needs to hire help once every 2 weeks for a few hours, well, in my opinion, that is her decision to make. She is the one in charge of maintaining the health of her home and family and she alone is in the position of assessing how much she can realistically get done. Though others may offer to help, it is not consistent and there are many tasks which need to be done on a regular basis in order to maintain a level of cleanliness and bacteria-free zones in the home. I honestly feel that it is absolutely NOT the business of the Man to interfere with the workings of the home. It is the woman’s responsibility and not subject to questioning or censure.
Additionally, I was raised to understand the subtleties in social situations, to know the etiquette called for in certain circumstances, and most of all, to do the right thing. In general, boys are not trained to appreciate cultivating friendships, strengthening bonds, keeping social appointments, and the ripple effects of these seemingly inconsequential affairs. It is easy to keep the same circle of friends forever, though times change, and people grow apart. But to make new friends and cultivate those relationships takes careful work, building, patience – nurturing like a gardener might do.
Why is it that a few decades ago a man would not question his wife when she made social plans for the couple, yet today I meet with resistance and interrogation? Is there something I have done to earn the distrust or suspicion I get when I propose meeting new people or spending time with them? And don’t get me started on how many social engagements we have made together only to back out at the last minute… it makes me totally embarrassed.
Lately, it feels to me that we seem to be having gender issues. I feel that I am being questioned and challenged about things which I ought to have complete autonomy to make decisions about. It seems that there’s a blurring of the lines. Maybe that’s me being an anti-feminist – some kind of throwback to medieval definitions of gender roles. But it’s confusing to me and frustrating because I am beginning to feel under fire in a realm which I always felt extremely secure and capable of executing my duties as I saw them.
By the same token, I think I have an unrealistic, or perhaps highly romanticized and idealized view of what the Man in the house is supposed to be. I’d like to take a good look around and find a model to work from than my girlish preconceptions. I think that too is adding to the gender confusion.
In any case, I don’t think I need to stop playing with power tools.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Chanukkah - 8 crazy nights!
This post is really the summary of the events which happened on, in, around, or in relation to, Chanukkah.
This year, it started on Tuesday night, the 4th and went to the 12th. My wonderful husband decided that it would be totally cool to get me a present for EACH AND EVERY night!!!
He was cunning and sly. He was planning and plotting well before Thanksgiving even, and ordering things, snooping around and doing extensive research...
And what was the result of all the skulking around?? Well, the total consensus of gifts are:
1 beautiful painting, 1 aqua pashmina shawl, 6 country music cd's, 1 set of Nero Wolfe dvds, one set of 3rd Rock from the Sun dvds and... drumroll please.... the Pirates of the Caribbean dvd, and Monopoly set featuring all 3 movies AND a Pirates Code handbook!! Chewy was very thorough. Every night he wrote out a lovely card with a sweet message in it. And on Pirate night, he gave me the funniest card EVER, written in Pirate speak!!
Everything was well thought out, and wonderful. I think he had as much fun getting them for me as I had receiving them!
We sang songs, and enjoyed each other's company. It was so nice lighting candles together and everything felt *so* right.
This year, it started on Tuesday night, the 4th and went to the 12th. My wonderful husband decided that it would be totally cool to get me a present for EACH AND EVERY night!!!
He was cunning and sly. He was planning and plotting well before Thanksgiving even, and ordering things, snooping around and doing extensive research...
And what was the result of all the skulking around?? Well, the total consensus of gifts are:
1 beautiful painting, 1 aqua pashmina shawl, 6 country music cd's, 1 set of Nero Wolfe dvds, one set of 3rd Rock from the Sun dvds and... drumroll please.... the Pirates of the Caribbean dvd, and Monopoly set featuring all 3 movies AND a Pirates Code handbook!! Chewy was very thorough. Every night he wrote out a lovely card with a sweet message in it. And on Pirate night, he gave me the funniest card EVER, written in Pirate speak!!
Everything was well thought out, and wonderful. I think he had as much fun getting them for me as I had receiving them!
We sang songs, and enjoyed each other's company. It was so nice lighting candles together and everything felt *so* right.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Final Farewell.....
It’s weird to end a month long drought of non writing with a whole post about Death.
But, in a move too obvious to ignore, Death has claimed three of my friends now, in the past few months, one yesterday, one 10 days ago, and one at the end of June. I really don’t want to write obituaries. And people like Wendy and Mitch are just TOO impossible to know on paper, you had to know them. And those of you who didn’t, well, you’re just missing out.
Dean’s passing yesterday was sudden and shocking. He had been feeling poorly and Cathie finally convinced him to go to the doctor, who scheduled valve replacement surgery. Before that could start though, Dean passed out at home one evening, and was rushed to the hospital. He had a fever, respirator, IV and sedation for over a week while they tried to battle his body to get to a place where they could do surgery. They even did a tracheotomy to help him breathe. It seemed things were getting better. Then he died.
It is shocking enough for me. I am sure Cathie is going through much more grief and pain and shock. My heart absolutely aches for her.
I always say that I miss being alone. But this has made me realize that there’s alone, and there is ALL ALONE. It makes me want to give Chewy a great big hug in gratitude.
Thanks for being there, Furface
But, in a move too obvious to ignore, Death has claimed three of my friends now, in the past few months, one yesterday, one 10 days ago, and one at the end of June. I really don’t want to write obituaries. And people like Wendy and Mitch are just TOO impossible to know on paper, you had to know them. And those of you who didn’t, well, you’re just missing out.
Dean’s passing yesterday was sudden and shocking. He had been feeling poorly and Cathie finally convinced him to go to the doctor, who scheduled valve replacement surgery. Before that could start though, Dean passed out at home one evening, and was rushed to the hospital. He had a fever, respirator, IV and sedation for over a week while they tried to battle his body to get to a place where they could do surgery. They even did a tracheotomy to help him breathe. It seemed things were getting better. Then he died.
It is shocking enough for me. I am sure Cathie is going through much more grief and pain and shock. My heart absolutely aches for her.
I always say that I miss being alone. But this has made me realize that there’s alone, and there is ALL ALONE. It makes me want to give Chewy a great big hug in gratitude.
Thanks for being there, Furface
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
New Year Resolutions
As the Jewish New Year approaches, my thoughts turn introspective… though it seems that the changing seasons play a part, as they always do, in the changes to my moods and psyche. I am sure it’s not a coincidence that when the weather begins to get cooler, breezier, and there is a new smell in the air, the smell of dormancy and the promise of colder days to come, that’s the time of year when the Jewish calendar begins again.
Many people feel that winter is the end/beginning of the year. January 1st is hailed worldwide as New Year’s Day… but to me, winter is already a quarter into the New Year. When summer ends, and those hot and sultry days start subtly becoming breezier, and those sticky airless nights become cooler, crisper and sweeter, then you know – the New Year is coming. To me, the return of the sweet, cool, playful air and wind is the renewal and rebirth of the cycle of time. It seems to me that in the stagnant and stolid heat, so much dies. But the Fall brings hope, renewal – and a promise, that at the end of the coming winter, life will be renewed and reaffirmed again. The great part is that the Fall is an honest season. If the wheel of the year symbolizes life in general, then every season represents an aspect of life, which is inevitable, and also, which will eventually pass. Fall is honest in that Winter (which is, let’s say, symbolic of hard times) will come. It is not going to tell you any falsehood about life being a beautiful meadow in the summer all the time. But, the Fall says, Hearken to me – afterwards there are 2 seasons of growth, maturity and fecundity. And so, I am enjoying both the change in weather, and the hopeful message it contains for me.
It is traditional to make New Year’s resolutions. Again, a good way to clear ones’ mind of random thoughts and cobwebs accumulated in the dormancy and sluggishness of summer. This provides, additionally, a great way to create new goals and paths for oneself in the upcoming turn of the year.
I have been maintaining a “Life List” of things I’d like to accomplish before my time on earth is over. I have managed to cross some of these goals and experiences off the list, and that is a tremendous feeling. I have a lot to be thankful for in this past year we are closing up, and much to look forward to in the year ahead.
I’d like to make a list now, condensed from my longer Life List, of things I’d like to accomplish, achieve, or explore this year, in no particular order. Bear in mind that each of these things can be an entire blog all by itself:
1) Motherhood
2) Painting class
3) Cooking class
4) Ballroom dancing
5) Get a raise/feel financially secure
6) Teach
7) Build relationships with my newly acquired family
8) Strengthen my relationship with Chewbacca
9) Find a new creative outlet
10) Direct The Scarlet Pimpernel and The Three Musketeers in community theater
11) Visit Israel
12) Travel (don’t get me started to where!)
13) Hot air ballooning
14) Learn to use my camera for real
15) Work with animals
Some of these things are extremely ambitious, and some are merely buzzwords for a whole concept that exists in my brain about it. It’s too complicated to map out in a small list, but some of these phrases unlock whole new vistas of conversation.
Mostly though, I hope that I, and you, dear reader, have a Happy and Healthy New Year.
Many people feel that winter is the end/beginning of the year. January 1st is hailed worldwide as New Year’s Day… but to me, winter is already a quarter into the New Year. When summer ends, and those hot and sultry days start subtly becoming breezier, and those sticky airless nights become cooler, crisper and sweeter, then you know – the New Year is coming. To me, the return of the sweet, cool, playful air and wind is the renewal and rebirth of the cycle of time. It seems to me that in the stagnant and stolid heat, so much dies. But the Fall brings hope, renewal – and a promise, that at the end of the coming winter, life will be renewed and reaffirmed again. The great part is that the Fall is an honest season. If the wheel of the year symbolizes life in general, then every season represents an aspect of life, which is inevitable, and also, which will eventually pass. Fall is honest in that Winter (which is, let’s say, symbolic of hard times) will come. It is not going to tell you any falsehood about life being a beautiful meadow in the summer all the time. But, the Fall says, Hearken to me – afterwards there are 2 seasons of growth, maturity and fecundity. And so, I am enjoying both the change in weather, and the hopeful message it contains for me.
It is traditional to make New Year’s resolutions. Again, a good way to clear ones’ mind of random thoughts and cobwebs accumulated in the dormancy and sluggishness of summer. This provides, additionally, a great way to create new goals and paths for oneself in the upcoming turn of the year.
I have been maintaining a “Life List” of things I’d like to accomplish before my time on earth is over. I have managed to cross some of these goals and experiences off the list, and that is a tremendous feeling. I have a lot to be thankful for in this past year we are closing up, and much to look forward to in the year ahead.
I’d like to make a list now, condensed from my longer Life List, of things I’d like to accomplish, achieve, or explore this year, in no particular order. Bear in mind that each of these things can be an entire blog all by itself:
1) Motherhood
2) Painting class
3) Cooking class
4) Ballroom dancing
5) Get a raise/feel financially secure
6) Teach
7) Build relationships with my newly acquired family
8) Strengthen my relationship with Chewbacca
9) Find a new creative outlet
10) Direct The Scarlet Pimpernel and The Three Musketeers in community theater
11) Visit Israel
12) Travel (don’t get me started to where!)
13) Hot air ballooning
14) Learn to use my camera for real
15) Work with animals
Some of these things are extremely ambitious, and some are merely buzzwords for a whole concept that exists in my brain about it. It’s too complicated to map out in a small list, but some of these phrases unlock whole new vistas of conversation.
Mostly though, I hope that I, and you, dear reader, have a Happy and Healthy New Year.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Long Overdue
This has been long overdue.
But, as I recently told a friend, I have been either too full of words, too full of emotions, or too low on time to really do justice to all that’s going on. Life is about change; Living is about adjusting to change.
Births, birthdays, epiphanies, breakthroughs in relationships, and some relationships that are more broken… it’s been a very full couple of months. In fact, it looks like I’ve ripped this off from the Soap Opera Digest or something.
But, no. This is actually my life.
*sigh*
So to try and retrace some of the things that have been going on, and that I am willing to commit to “paper” –
The most obvious place to start is my birthday bonanza lovingly planned and executed by my very own Chewbacca.
July 31st – my 32nd Birthday.
For a while in advance of my birthday (at least a month I think), Chewy was planning a surprise party for me, and invited all kinds of friends of mine who I do not see often. Mom was a co-conspirator, and together they made the NICEST and most WONDERFUL party a person has ever had! I knew I was having a party, but the rest was a TOTAL surprise! It was the most interesting collection of people from all different parts of my life cycle. I loved it.
My Chewy was the chef, and barbequed a stack of hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken wings, chicken legs… it was tremendous. Mom made salads, and my mother in law made a HUGE strawberry shortcake cake.
I have never had such a nice time. I was able to (finally) relax and just enjoy myself. Though I almost wrecked the whole thing when I started meddling, Chewy was really terrific about it and I backed off before I really destroyed everything.
BUT….
That’s not all, folks!
Because the next day, we both took off from work and had a whole day of activities planned in the Big City.
Chewy took me to a paint your own pottery place – which I love to do – we did it last year on my birthday too J . Then we went to a HUGE indoor arcade for adults, called Dave and Barry’s. It is chock full of all kinds of games, and gambling a little I think too, and it was so cool. We had a bunch of points to spend so we competed against each other on motorcycle racing (I won) and basketball shooting (He won) and air hockey (He won, but I got in some good shots!)
But wait – there’s more!
We went out to a VERY fancy restaurant for dinner, it was lovely. And it was so great to just have a nice quiet night out, relaxed, we weren’t in a rush to get anywhere. After dinner, we walked uptown and went to see Chris Cornell in concert (He was the front man of Audioslave and Soundgarten) and he is Chewy’s FAVE singer… and that wrapped up the dayJ I can get used to 2 days of celebrations for my birthday…
Stay tuned, Chewy’s birthday is on September 4th and I have a few things up my sleeve, too….
But, as I recently told a friend, I have been either too full of words, too full of emotions, or too low on time to really do justice to all that’s going on. Life is about change; Living is about adjusting to change.
Births, birthdays, epiphanies, breakthroughs in relationships, and some relationships that are more broken… it’s been a very full couple of months. In fact, it looks like I’ve ripped this off from the Soap Opera Digest or something.
But, no. This is actually my life.
*sigh*
So to try and retrace some of the things that have been going on, and that I am willing to commit to “paper” –
The most obvious place to start is my birthday bonanza lovingly planned and executed by my very own Chewbacca.
July 31st – my 32nd Birthday.
For a while in advance of my birthday (at least a month I think), Chewy was planning a surprise party for me, and invited all kinds of friends of mine who I do not see often. Mom was a co-conspirator, and together they made the NICEST and most WONDERFUL party a person has ever had! I knew I was having a party, but the rest was a TOTAL surprise! It was the most interesting collection of people from all different parts of my life cycle. I loved it.
My Chewy was the chef, and barbequed a stack of hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken wings, chicken legs… it was tremendous. Mom made salads, and my mother in law made a HUGE strawberry shortcake cake.
I have never had such a nice time. I was able to (finally) relax and just enjoy myself. Though I almost wrecked the whole thing when I started meddling, Chewy was really terrific about it and I backed off before I really destroyed everything.
BUT….
That’s not all, folks!
Because the next day, we both took off from work and had a whole day of activities planned in the Big City.
Chewy took me to a paint your own pottery place – which I love to do – we did it last year on my birthday too J . Then we went to a HUGE indoor arcade for adults, called Dave and Barry’s. It is chock full of all kinds of games, and gambling a little I think too, and it was so cool. We had a bunch of points to spend so we competed against each other on motorcycle racing (I won) and basketball shooting (He won) and air hockey (He won, but I got in some good shots!)
But wait – there’s more!
We went out to a VERY fancy restaurant for dinner, it was lovely. And it was so great to just have a nice quiet night out, relaxed, we weren’t in a rush to get anywhere. After dinner, we walked uptown and went to see Chris Cornell in concert (He was the front man of Audioslave and Soundgarten) and he is Chewy’s FAVE singer… and that wrapped up the dayJ I can get used to 2 days of celebrations for my birthday…
Stay tuned, Chewy’s birthday is on September 4th and I have a few things up my sleeve, too….
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Wheel of Time
A child was born on Thursday. A healthy, 7 lb, 2 oz baby girl. Beautiful, perfectly formed with teeny fingers and even teenier toes. My niece.
Families grow, as do children. As time passes, people mature, learn from mistakes and experiences, become more whole and full. I feel that maturity is not an issue of age, but of experience. If people do not evolve from their experiences into better informed humans, they have stunted their growth. I look around at how many self-help books there are, how many new "issues" and therapies are out there for people to either confront themselves or direct the blame everywhere else for the problems they have. I see how many Dr. Phil types are out there claiming to be able to solve problems or weight, romance, debt, marriages etc., much as medicine men sold moonshine in the Old West to gullible folks with no more than common growing pains, whether they be physical or emotional. And I am completely disgusted with the Fall of Mankind as I witness it.
This child is an innocent. She relies entirely on her parents, as do all children.
What are the methods by which someone can raise a child in this sick, sick world, without her being scarred by television and movies, violence in schools and the pathologies of other parents and children she comes across? How do you give her the tools to get through life even with people who are going to try to hurt her and be cruel - though you try to shelter her as much as possible - so that she can also take care of herself and defend her heart? How do you instill in a child the comfidence and sense of Self to withstand the peer pressure of whatever dangerous thing is "in" at the time - be it drinking, drugs or other forms of teenage sport which tends to kill teenagers? How do you teach tolerance to a child, yet shield her from racism and bigotry at the same time - though those elements also come with the lessons of Diversity? How do you ask a child to respect and take care of nature, when governments and people around the world work determinedly to rape the earth of all her riches, and kill everything that is not Human? How do parents overcome their own fears and anxieties in order to encourage growth in the child, without transferring those fears? How do you create security in a world where cat burglars climb into your window as easily as if it were a playground, and take every precious thing you own?
I do not know the answers. And until I too am a parent, I may not need to know them.
But when I was holding that precious little flame of life in my arms, my heart wished for her that she know no conflict, only joy, love, security and peace.
Families grow, as do children. As time passes, people mature, learn from mistakes and experiences, become more whole and full. I feel that maturity is not an issue of age, but of experience. If people do not evolve from their experiences into better informed humans, they have stunted their growth. I look around at how many self-help books there are, how many new "issues" and therapies are out there for people to either confront themselves or direct the blame everywhere else for the problems they have. I see how many Dr. Phil types are out there claiming to be able to solve problems or weight, romance, debt, marriages etc., much as medicine men sold moonshine in the Old West to gullible folks with no more than common growing pains, whether they be physical or emotional. And I am completely disgusted with the Fall of Mankind as I witness it.
This child is an innocent. She relies entirely on her parents, as do all children.
What are the methods by which someone can raise a child in this sick, sick world, without her being scarred by television and movies, violence in schools and the pathologies of other parents and children she comes across? How do you give her the tools to get through life even with people who are going to try to hurt her and be cruel - though you try to shelter her as much as possible - so that she can also take care of herself and defend her heart? How do you instill in a child the comfidence and sense of Self to withstand the peer pressure of whatever dangerous thing is "in" at the time - be it drinking, drugs or other forms of teenage sport which tends to kill teenagers? How do you teach tolerance to a child, yet shield her from racism and bigotry at the same time - though those elements also come with the lessons of Diversity? How do you ask a child to respect and take care of nature, when governments and people around the world work determinedly to rape the earth of all her riches, and kill everything that is not Human? How do parents overcome their own fears and anxieties in order to encourage growth in the child, without transferring those fears? How do you create security in a world where cat burglars climb into your window as easily as if it were a playground, and take every precious thing you own?
I do not know the answers. And until I too am a parent, I may not need to know them.
But when I was holding that precious little flame of life in my arms, my heart wished for her that she know no conflict, only joy, love, security and peace.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Wedding Impressions :)
Random Impressions: Today was our Wedding... I never had so much fun.
There was so much love in the room, it is a wonder to me that we didn't blow the roof off the building.
The energy was electric. The dancing was *so* fun (note to the wise - next bridal gown you buy, try jumping around the store a little to see how heavy it is!) ... Chewy looked fantastic...
The pictures are beautiful, and yet, they don't capture the absolute Joy that was there.
..................................................I love my family.
It was beautiful.....
Chewy's best man was staring at me instead of witnessing me signing :) The Rabbi had to tell him to watch me sign or he's useless as a witness!
I loved my wedding.
I felt my grandmother's presence with me. I felt close to God. I loved giving people blessings. I felt like a direct current was being channeled through me.
I loved re-creating the marraige ceremony of Adam and Eve...... I love the sense of continuity I get from connecting with my ultimate mother and father....
I love Chewy :)
Our hotel made me feel like a princess. My dress made me feel like a princess. My husband treats me like a princes...... maybe I really am a princess?!
I feel bad for people who do not feel such soul-altering Love.
I know for a fact, that everyone who was there, WANTED to be there, and was so incredibly happy for us..... I also know for a fact that everyone had a good time, not just me! :)
............ I wish it went on for a few more hours....
I wish people I love who live overseas could have been there..... I know I felt their spirit, thoughts, energy and prayers....
My dearest wish is to be able to post something similar at our 10th anniversary.... and our 50th :)
There was so much love in the room, it is a wonder to me that we didn't blow the roof off the building.
The energy was electric. The dancing was *so* fun (note to the wise - next bridal gown you buy, try jumping around the store a little to see how heavy it is!) ... Chewy looked fantastic...
The pictures are beautiful, and yet, they don't capture the absolute Joy that was there.
..................................................I love my family.
It was beautiful.....
Chewy's best man was staring at me instead of witnessing me signing :) The Rabbi had to tell him to watch me sign or he's useless as a witness!
I loved my wedding.
I felt my grandmother's presence with me. I felt close to God. I loved giving people blessings. I felt like a direct current was being channeled through me.
I loved re-creating the marraige ceremony of Adam and Eve...... I love the sense of continuity I get from connecting with my ultimate mother and father....
I love Chewy :)
Our hotel made me feel like a princess. My dress made me feel like a princess. My husband treats me like a princes...... maybe I really am a princess?!
I feel bad for people who do not feel such soul-altering Love.
I know for a fact, that everyone who was there, WANTED to be there, and was so incredibly happy for us..... I also know for a fact that everyone had a good time, not just me! :)
............ I wish it went on for a few more hours....
I wish people I love who live overseas could have been there..... I know I felt their spirit, thoughts, energy and prayers....
My dearest wish is to be able to post something similar at our 10th anniversary.... and our 50th :)
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
3 AM
There's actually a decent song with that title. At least, I think that's the title. Chewy would know. He's the musical genius in the family.
I have so many words bundled up in my brain, so many thoughts I need to express, and though this is the forum for it, I find myself unable to articulate the mess of emotions I am in right now. I am troubled by my own behaviour these past few weeks, and though I can come up with perfectly good, logical excuses (e.g. hormones, stress) - all they'd be are excuses. And that, if you'll excuse me, is inexcusable...
(It's good to know I still have a sense of humor under all this turmoil)
... To the point then, since it literally *is* 3:00am. I feel like i am reaching a point in the road where I will have to confront and face down my deepest fears and demons, and only then will I be truly able to move on. Another (lame) excuse would be to say that perhaps that is making me edgy. I am sure that is true - and in the never-ending cycle of my twisted and demented brain, I worry that I will create irreparable damage to my relationship with Chewy because of these irrational and fear-induced behaviours, and that makes me worried and guilt-ridden (Ah! Jewish Guilt! The fodder for many millions in the head-shrinking industry!) which adds to my sleeplessness (Aha! Another valid excuse! Grumpy over-tiredness!) and exacerbates the whole issue.
Also making things worse is my inability to articulate the tumult in my head about the whole thing (see above - re-read the first 2 paragraphs if you're not following) which frustrates him as well because he feels I am shutting him out and not communicating, which in turn frustrates me and makes me feel worse. Hence, the 3 AM posting about the 5 cats in a burlap sack banging around in my brain.
I was hoping that posting this would help open up the dam a little and let some of the tension and emotions out... and truly, a few tears have leaked out as I wrote. Perhaps this signifies some movement in my emotional state and I am not stuck in paralyzed anxiety anymore.
In any case, I am still working on fixing the behaviours, and Chewy is still as wonderfully understanding as ever that, alas, I *am* only human, though sometimes I am a lot messier than others on this rock to deal with. He'd say it was worth it.
Pray it always remains so.
I have so many words bundled up in my brain, so many thoughts I need to express, and though this is the forum for it, I find myself unable to articulate the mess of emotions I am in right now. I am troubled by my own behaviour these past few weeks, and though I can come up with perfectly good, logical excuses (e.g. hormones, stress) - all they'd be are excuses. And that, if you'll excuse me, is inexcusable...
(It's good to know I still have a sense of humor under all this turmoil)
... To the point then, since it literally *is* 3:00am. I feel like i am reaching a point in the road where I will have to confront and face down my deepest fears and demons, and only then will I be truly able to move on. Another (lame) excuse would be to say that perhaps that is making me edgy. I am sure that is true - and in the never-ending cycle of my twisted and demented brain, I worry that I will create irreparable damage to my relationship with Chewy because of these irrational and fear-induced behaviours, and that makes me worried and guilt-ridden (Ah! Jewish Guilt! The fodder for many millions in the head-shrinking industry!) which adds to my sleeplessness (Aha! Another valid excuse! Grumpy over-tiredness!) and exacerbates the whole issue.
Also making things worse is my inability to articulate the tumult in my head about the whole thing (see above - re-read the first 2 paragraphs if you're not following) which frustrates him as well because he feels I am shutting him out and not communicating, which in turn frustrates me and makes me feel worse. Hence, the 3 AM posting about the 5 cats in a burlap sack banging around in my brain.
I was hoping that posting this would help open up the dam a little and let some of the tension and emotions out... and truly, a few tears have leaked out as I wrote. Perhaps this signifies some movement in my emotional state and I am not stuck in paralyzed anxiety anymore.
In any case, I am still working on fixing the behaviours, and Chewy is still as wonderfully understanding as ever that, alas, I *am* only human, though sometimes I am a lot messier than others on this rock to deal with. He'd say it was worth it.
Pray it always remains so.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Engineer on Deck 5!!
Chewy and I have been configuring our new apartment.
Ok, that sentence actually makes us sound more productive than we are. Let's try that again.
Chewy and I have managed to dump 80% of my stuff, and 50% of his stuff into our new (smallish) living space, and I've unpacked 3/4 of said 80% of stuff, and the rest are in creatively decorative piles all over the Frelling place.
Our kitchen is less than a galley kitchen, and about the size of your butler's broom closet. It's narrow and has some weird walls popping out of nowhere. The Realtor had asked us if we wanted cabinets or a counter top on one wall, and we opted for the cabinets... so they installed the counter top (really high, too, like almost lower rib height instead of comfortable belly height). After I called the managing agent, she ordered some cabinets, which were finally installed today. Yay!
Yay? No.
I went to go see them, and they are pathetic. Because the countertop was put so high, the cabinets are about 1/2 foot off the ground. And they are so shallow, that we won't be able to put any silverware in them, or store things in the less than 1 foot deep cabinets, which were the cause of so much headache.
Gack! There is not enough storage space for normal things, like pots and pans, in that teeny kitchen, and the fridge - don't get me started. Its like the size of the dorm-room fridge I had. Maybe a few inches taller. But, maybe not.
Anyone seen an engineer? We are gonna need some creative solutions to the space issue - and that's before we even start living in each others' Space!!
Argh!
Ok, that sentence actually makes us sound more productive than we are. Let's try that again.
Chewy and I have managed to dump 80% of my stuff, and 50% of his stuff into our new (smallish) living space, and I've unpacked 3/4 of said 80% of stuff, and the rest are in creatively decorative piles all over the Frelling place.
Our kitchen is less than a galley kitchen, and about the size of your butler's broom closet. It's narrow and has some weird walls popping out of nowhere. The Realtor had asked us if we wanted cabinets or a counter top on one wall, and we opted for the cabinets... so they installed the counter top (really high, too, like almost lower rib height instead of comfortable belly height). After I called the managing agent, she ordered some cabinets, which were finally installed today. Yay!
Yay? No.
I went to go see them, and they are pathetic. Because the countertop was put so high, the cabinets are about 1/2 foot off the ground. And they are so shallow, that we won't be able to put any silverware in them, or store things in the less than 1 foot deep cabinets, which were the cause of so much headache.
Gack! There is not enough storage space for normal things, like pots and pans, in that teeny kitchen, and the fridge - don't get me started. Its like the size of the dorm-room fridge I had. Maybe a few inches taller. But, maybe not.
Anyone seen an engineer? We are gonna need some creative solutions to the space issue - and that's before we even start living in each others' Space!!
Argh!
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