Yesterday, around 5pm, I found out that we were having friends for dinner, friends from New York that we haven't seen in...almost six years. Yeah. Luckily, when I asked if they'd prefer enchiladas or baked ziti, they said baked ziti, which meant Fai was cooking and not me! Yippie!
So after frantically cleaning the house and helping Fai (and by helping Fai, I mean burning the mozzarella, peeling it off, sprinkling new mozzarella on top and watching it melt...) I thought about the last time I'd seen this family...
It was at Uno's pizza in Astoria, Queens. Their son was four and they'd just found out they were expecting another...
So then they came, with this strapping, engaging ten year old, and a beautiful five year old daughter.
And that daughter and Anjali....yeah. You couldn't tell they were two years apart in age, they were best buds from the first second! We hadn't even made it into the living room before Anjali had showed her the basement and the two of them had started pulling up toys!
And the yelling! And the laughing! And the "I'm not your friend any more!" followed by the making up! Then finally, the hug goodbye....
Two of a kind, for sure!
And I now have a new appreciation for ten year old boys, he let those two little girls jump all over him! (Literally...)
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Five little Positive Things
So I've just come out of high-stress mode, and am still adjusting to everyday life. It's like when you've been in a car wreck, even when it's over your adrenaline is still going. Last night, as I was going to bed way too late (like, one in the morning!) I had a random idea. I turned on the light, grabbed the note pad I keep next to my bed, and jotted it down.
Five Positive Things.
Five goals that I though would make life a little happier. In the morning, when I looked at them again, I though perhaps I might have gone a little overboard. Seriously, how could I fit those five things into my already busy day? So I revised, and cut back a little. The same five things, only a little less.
Five Little Positive Things
For example, one of the original five was an hour of exercise each day. That's been changed to a little exercise each day. Today, I did twenty minutes on the treadmill. Not much, I know, nothing compared to what some of the more health-oriented of you do, but for me it's a start.
So far I've done three of my five things today, and I know I'll squeeze in one more today. Tomorrow, I'll strive to do all five. We'll see how that goes. So far, so good!
Little changes. Little things. :)
Five Positive Things.
Five goals that I though would make life a little happier. In the morning, when I looked at them again, I though perhaps I might have gone a little overboard. Seriously, how could I fit those five things into my already busy day? So I revised, and cut back a little. The same five things, only a little less.
Five Little Positive Things
For example, one of the original five was an hour of exercise each day. That's been changed to a little exercise each day. Today, I did twenty minutes on the treadmill. Not much, I know, nothing compared to what some of the more health-oriented of you do, but for me it's a start.
So far I've done three of my five things today, and I know I'll squeeze in one more today. Tomorrow, I'll strive to do all five. We'll see how that goes. So far, so good!
Little changes. Little things. :)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Respite
Today I am grateful for little moments of peace.
This past weekend and Monday I moved my mother into assisted living. I also realized that she's developing some sort of dementia along with her MS. I don't think she recognized my sister.
Emotionally, this was a really rough trip to Florida. Financially, it was doubly hard. Our car died, and we had to purchase a new one. Time-wise, it was chaos. Like in January, I spent very little time with friends and family.
Then there was mother's day...
In the morning we packed up my mom's stuff, then went to have lunch with my grandmother and dad. That's when I got the call that she could move into the assisted living facility on Monday.
With all the immediate things cared for, we did something impractical...we drove down to St. George's Island on the Gulf Coast. My little sister, Caroline, who is 15, came with us.
My dad use to call 98 the Redneck Rivera. a winding stretch of highway with breathtaking views of the Gulf. And also of local color. Fishing shacks and piers, little mom and pop sea food restaurants, old motels. There's a restaurant there we're really fond of, we ate there on our honeymoon, it's called "That Place on 98". Yep.
Several years ago, the year Florida was cris-crossed by three hurricanes, this stretch of the panhandle took a real beating. It's been almost two years since we last drove down that way, and I was surprised that the scars are still there. In years past, that area rebounds quickly. Now there are building still boarded up, messages to God still spray-painted on the boards. Abandoned buildings, long stretches of land for sale, and there among it all, building. New town-houses, new rental property, new luxury vacation communities. The forgotten coast is forgotten no longer.
"This is good," said Faiyaz, "It's going to be great for the businesses around here."
I agree. But inside I miss the old coastline, the one that didn't look like a tourist attraction.
I love St. George Island, I love the sand, not too white, I love looking out at the wide expansion of water ahead, I love the waves, gently, but you can still feel the power behind them. It was late afternoon when we got to the public beach. The water was still a little cool. I thought Nadira would cry, but she seemed to love it. Anjali had a blast. My dad met us later. He cuddled with Nadira, and Faiyaz walked with Anjali looking for shells. I walked out into the water, as far as I could and still touch. I looked behind me, at my beautiful family, then out across the expanse of water. I was filled with gratitude, and sorrow. I thought about my mom, how much she use to love the beach too. About how much I do to help her, and all the things I can't help her with.
And I felt, as I always do in the Gulf, how small I am in this great big world. This is not a bad feeling, it helps me put myself and my petty problems in perspective. I love that kind of insignificance, of just being a spec in the large Gulf. Think of the Gulf of Mexico, it seems so large when you're in it, but when you look at a map, it's a small bit of water compared to the great oceans. So there I was, a spec in a small pool of water surrounded by the great oceans, on our planet that looks so small when you're far out it space. And it felt good. And I lifted up my feet, closed my eyes, and let myself float aimlessly for a few minutes, enjoying being a spec. I had come full circle. I was at the beach I had visited with my parents as a child, I was there as a parent with my children. I am the caretaker of the woman who once cared for me.
I thought about that a lot as I drove home. On road trips I always take the night-shift. I love how the interstate thins out at night, how it's just me and the road and whatever is on the radio. I talked with my dad at 2 am, he told me I'd make a great truck driver.
Confession: I dislike country music, but on long road trips, when I'm driving at night, I always listen to it, bellowing out the song in my own tone-deaf way. I think it's because most country songs have linear story lines that are easy to follow when you're tired, and keep your interest.
Today I'm disoriented. I keep thinking it's Tuesday, or even Monday. Over the past month and a half, I've spent so much time on the phone trying to set things up for my mom, and so much time just worrying about my mom, it feels strange to have that done with. I'm still worrying, worrying how long shell get to stay there, worrying where she'll got next, but I know this is needless worry, and it doesn't have the same urgency.
Soon I'll start working on my book again. Things are going back to normal. There's laundry to fold, dishes to do, and a whole lot of unpacking.
This past weekend and Monday I moved my mother into assisted living. I also realized that she's developing some sort of dementia along with her MS. I don't think she recognized my sister.
Emotionally, this was a really rough trip to Florida. Financially, it was doubly hard. Our car died, and we had to purchase a new one. Time-wise, it was chaos. Like in January, I spent very little time with friends and family.
Then there was mother's day...
In the morning we packed up my mom's stuff, then went to have lunch with my grandmother and dad. That's when I got the call that she could move into the assisted living facility on Monday.
With all the immediate things cared for, we did something impractical...we drove down to St. George's Island on the Gulf Coast. My little sister, Caroline, who is 15, came with us.
My dad use to call 98 the Redneck Rivera. a winding stretch of highway with breathtaking views of the Gulf. And also of local color. Fishing shacks and piers, little mom and pop sea food restaurants, old motels. There's a restaurant there we're really fond of, we ate there on our honeymoon, it's called "That Place on 98". Yep.
Several years ago, the year Florida was cris-crossed by three hurricanes, this stretch of the panhandle took a real beating. It's been almost two years since we last drove down that way, and I was surprised that the scars are still there. In years past, that area rebounds quickly. Now there are building still boarded up, messages to God still spray-painted on the boards. Abandoned buildings, long stretches of land for sale, and there among it all, building. New town-houses, new rental property, new luxury vacation communities. The forgotten coast is forgotten no longer.
"This is good," said Faiyaz, "It's going to be great for the businesses around here."
I agree. But inside I miss the old coastline, the one that didn't look like a tourist attraction.
I love St. George Island, I love the sand, not too white, I love looking out at the wide expansion of water ahead, I love the waves, gently, but you can still feel the power behind them. It was late afternoon when we got to the public beach. The water was still a little cool. I thought Nadira would cry, but she seemed to love it. Anjali had a blast. My dad met us later. He cuddled with Nadira, and Faiyaz walked with Anjali looking for shells. I walked out into the water, as far as I could and still touch. I looked behind me, at my beautiful family, then out across the expanse of water. I was filled with gratitude, and sorrow. I thought about my mom, how much she use to love the beach too. About how much I do to help her, and all the things I can't help her with.
And I felt, as I always do in the Gulf, how small I am in this great big world. This is not a bad feeling, it helps me put myself and my petty problems in perspective. I love that kind of insignificance, of just being a spec in the large Gulf. Think of the Gulf of Mexico, it seems so large when you're in it, but when you look at a map, it's a small bit of water compared to the great oceans. So there I was, a spec in a small pool of water surrounded by the great oceans, on our planet that looks so small when you're far out it space. And it felt good. And I lifted up my feet, closed my eyes, and let myself float aimlessly for a few minutes, enjoying being a spec. I had come full circle. I was at the beach I had visited with my parents as a child, I was there as a parent with my children. I am the caretaker of the woman who once cared for me.
I thought about that a lot as I drove home. On road trips I always take the night-shift. I love how the interstate thins out at night, how it's just me and the road and whatever is on the radio. I talked with my dad at 2 am, he told me I'd make a great truck driver.
Confession: I dislike country music, but on long road trips, when I'm driving at night, I always listen to it, bellowing out the song in my own tone-deaf way. I think it's because most country songs have linear story lines that are easy to follow when you're tired, and keep your interest.
Today I'm disoriented. I keep thinking it's Tuesday, or even Monday. Over the past month and a half, I've spent so much time on the phone trying to set things up for my mom, and so much time just worrying about my mom, it feels strange to have that done with. I'm still worrying, worrying how long shell get to stay there, worrying where she'll got next, but I know this is needless worry, and it doesn't have the same urgency.
Soon I'll start working on my book again. Things are going back to normal. There's laundry to fold, dishes to do, and a whole lot of unpacking.
Monday, March 23, 2009
More Complaints
So my mom is getting evicted...yep. And guess who has to deal with it? Yep. I'm tired of bailing her out, very very very tired. I know that she's...insane, but right now I'm so frustrated with her. It feels like she's messing things up on purpose. I was just down in Florida, fixing her life for her, making it so she could live in that apartment a little longer, and here we are. All that time and money, thrown down the drain. And all the lies! All the lies! It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about all the lies.
So now I have to find an assisted living facility that has space and takes medicaid. Otherwise, she will be homeless on the street. Yep. If you know my mom, then you understand there's no way at all that she could live with me. None. So here I am. And I have to fix this, she is my mother. In spite of everything, she's my mom, and I have to find a way to help her.
So now I have to find an assisted living facility that has space and takes medicaid. Otherwise, she will be homeless on the street. Yep. If you know my mom, then you understand there's no way at all that she could live with me. None. So here I am. And I have to fix this, she is my mother. In spite of everything, she's my mom, and I have to find a way to help her.
Monday, March 16, 2009
A Hard Day in Mommyland
Granted, I really don't have much to whine about, but I'm going to indulge myself in a little complaining nonetheless.
It's been a hard day in Mommyland. Fai, the fearless provider, left early and is working late, which means, in an hour or two, I and the little ones will be tracking it on 95 into Alexandria, so none of us will get to bed earlier than 1 am. (except, of course, the little ones who will sleep in their car seats and be up all the earlier tomorrow) Nadira was up at 1:30 this morning, then both Anjali and Nadira were up at 7am. 7am is early to me. We were out running errands all morning. I signed Anjali up for preschool (she'll be going three days a week starting in Sept) which she is super excited for, then I had to do the grocery shopping and get gas. By the way, grocery shopping today meant going to four different stores. Yep. Two kids, two car seats, four stores. PLUS when Anjali was sick and I washed her carseat, I put the two seat belt halves in backwards, which means to get it in you have to twist the bottom buckle around backwards, and it's next to impossible to unhook. So I hurt my thumb fighting with the silly buckle.
The highlight of my day was the optimism I had-Faiyaz said he'd be home early, and cook dinner. So exciting. I defrosted the chicken as asked, and bought the eggplant. One big thing I didn't have to worry about. And at 8:15 (I thought Fai would be home by 8 at the latest) I called, and found out that he would be working extra late, and here I am with no dinner for him tonight or lunch tomorrow (he always gets left overs for lunch) Granted, not a big deal, but Fai just started a diet, and was doing super well on it, and now who knows what he'll have for lunch? He's fine with this situation, but I'm stressed for him, does that make any sense?
And the true annoyance? Lack of writing time. Anjali and Nadira sense when I'm really into writing, and that's when crisis strikes! ARRRRGH! I feel like I'm being selfish, I know in a few years (longer, depending on how many more kids we have) finding time to write won't be so hard, but I want to write now! I'm in the middle of a project I'm really enjoying writing, it's a light YA piece, nothing important, but it's fun, and I want to work on it! I truely am trying to keep this in perspective. And I do appreciate the stress and preassure of Fai's job. (that's another rant all together) This has nothing to do with him. This is me, trying to remember to be happy in the season I'm in. It's short, I know it is. I got some perspective tonight after I gave Nadira her bath, and I held her close and smelled her clean hair. Nice, very nice. I truly thought the all-day me alone thing would end with Fai graduating and getting this job. Everyone at the USPTO says the first few years are tough, and it is a good, stable job with good benefits and good pay. I see the benefits, I appreciate the demands of a new career, but it feels like it's always going to be 'a few more years' of toughing things out. I'm tired of us toughing it out, I want us to just live and enjoy! I want Fai home at 6, the kids in bed at 8, and the weekends to be stress-free. And I want three hours to write, everyday. Sigh!
I'm going to go cuddle a baby, then I'll feel better.
It's been a hard day in Mommyland. Fai, the fearless provider, left early and is working late, which means, in an hour or two, I and the little ones will be tracking it on 95 into Alexandria, so none of us will get to bed earlier than 1 am. (except, of course, the little ones who will sleep in their car seats and be up all the earlier tomorrow) Nadira was up at 1:30 this morning, then both Anjali and Nadira were up at 7am. 7am is early to me. We were out running errands all morning. I signed Anjali up for preschool (she'll be going three days a week starting in Sept) which she is super excited for, then I had to do the grocery shopping and get gas. By the way, grocery shopping today meant going to four different stores. Yep. Two kids, two car seats, four stores. PLUS when Anjali was sick and I washed her carseat, I put the two seat belt halves in backwards, which means to get it in you have to twist the bottom buckle around backwards, and it's next to impossible to unhook. So I hurt my thumb fighting with the silly buckle.
The highlight of my day was the optimism I had-Faiyaz said he'd be home early, and cook dinner. So exciting. I defrosted the chicken as asked, and bought the eggplant. One big thing I didn't have to worry about. And at 8:15 (I thought Fai would be home by 8 at the latest) I called, and found out that he would be working extra late, and here I am with no dinner for him tonight or lunch tomorrow (he always gets left overs for lunch) Granted, not a big deal, but Fai just started a diet, and was doing super well on it, and now who knows what he'll have for lunch? He's fine with this situation, but I'm stressed for him, does that make any sense?
And the true annoyance? Lack of writing time. Anjali and Nadira sense when I'm really into writing, and that's when crisis strikes! ARRRRGH! I feel like I'm being selfish, I know in a few years (longer, depending on how many more kids we have) finding time to write won't be so hard, but I want to write now! I'm in the middle of a project I'm really enjoying writing, it's a light YA piece, nothing important, but it's fun, and I want to work on it! I truely am trying to keep this in perspective. And I do appreciate the stress and preassure of Fai's job. (that's another rant all together) This has nothing to do with him. This is me, trying to remember to be happy in the season I'm in. It's short, I know it is. I got some perspective tonight after I gave Nadira her bath, and I held her close and smelled her clean hair. Nice, very nice. I truly thought the all-day me alone thing would end with Fai graduating and getting this job. Everyone at the USPTO says the first few years are tough, and it is a good, stable job with good benefits and good pay. I see the benefits, I appreciate the demands of a new career, but it feels like it's always going to be 'a few more years' of toughing things out. I'm tired of us toughing it out, I want us to just live and enjoy! I want Fai home at 6, the kids in bed at 8, and the weekends to be stress-free. And I want three hours to write, everyday. Sigh!
I'm going to go cuddle a baby, then I'll feel better.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Truthfullness
I told myself while I still worked in childcare that I would always be truthful with my children. No cute nick-names for body parts, where babies really come from, etc. Not that I've explained sex to Anjali, but she does know that Mommy's and Daddy's love made Nadira, that she grew in Mommy's belly until she was ready to come out, and she knows how she came out. A bit much for an almost-three year old, huh?
so Tuesday, when Anjali was super sick, and we took her to the Dr, and the Dr wanted to have labs done on her, I told her truthfully what would happen. Then, later, when we got the phone call to take her to the ER for fluids, I again told her truthfully what would happen at the hospital. Wow. Poor baby. She was so upset, and when they were putting the needle in, she kept crying "please! please! don't hurt me! please!" Talk about breaking your heart!
Then they taped it down, and Anjali laid in bed, looking at her hand. Slowly she stopped crying. Moments after that, she seemed better, and started chatting happily and telling us about the 'water' going through the IV into her hand.
Maybe I shouldn't have told her what would happen at the lab, or at the ER. Maybe the build-up and the tears in the waiting room could have been avoided. At the ER waiting room she kept saying over and over again that she wanted to go home.
The plus side of this truthfulness is that while we were in the ER and she was getting fluids, Fai and I, feeling extremely guilty, promised to get her a present, that she could pick it out. And she remembered. And so, at three am, we were at Walmart, in the toy section, and despite mixed feeling on my part, Anjali got her very first Barbie doll. Yep, we've entered the world of Barbie. And because we felt very, very, very guilty, she now has a total of three Barbies and one Ken. One of the Barbies is a Pediatrician, so that's kinda cool. They had an Astruanaught Barbie and a President Barbie, but she wasn't interested in those.
The next day, after the ER, we went to check out a Preschool near our house for her. As we got out of the car, and Anjali looked at the unfamiliar building, she asked, "Will they hurt me?" and so I explained where we were, what we were doing, and that no one here would hurt her. She immediately felt secure, and held my hand as we walked up to the school. I don't think it would have been that easy if she didn't have confidence that I would be truthful with her. It's a tough one, do we sugar coat the world for our kids, or do we tell them the truth even when it's a little scary? I'm going to keep being truthful, even though it means that when we're in the grocery store and someone stops to admire Nadira, Anjali will proudly explain how she grew in Mommy's belly, and came out of her 'gina. (thank goodness most people don't know that means 'vagina'!)
so Tuesday, when Anjali was super sick, and we took her to the Dr, and the Dr wanted to have labs done on her, I told her truthfully what would happen. Then, later, when we got the phone call to take her to the ER for fluids, I again told her truthfully what would happen at the hospital. Wow. Poor baby. She was so upset, and when they were putting the needle in, she kept crying "please! please! don't hurt me! please!" Talk about breaking your heart!
Then they taped it down, and Anjali laid in bed, looking at her hand. Slowly she stopped crying. Moments after that, she seemed better, and started chatting happily and telling us about the 'water' going through the IV into her hand.
Maybe I shouldn't have told her what would happen at the lab, or at the ER. Maybe the build-up and the tears in the waiting room could have been avoided. At the ER waiting room she kept saying over and over again that she wanted to go home.
The plus side of this truthfulness is that while we were in the ER and she was getting fluids, Fai and I, feeling extremely guilty, promised to get her a present, that she could pick it out. And she remembered. And so, at three am, we were at Walmart, in the toy section, and despite mixed feeling on my part, Anjali got her very first Barbie doll. Yep, we've entered the world of Barbie. And because we felt very, very, very guilty, she now has a total of three Barbies and one Ken. One of the Barbies is a Pediatrician, so that's kinda cool. They had an Astruanaught Barbie and a President Barbie, but she wasn't interested in those.
The next day, after the ER, we went to check out a Preschool near our house for her. As we got out of the car, and Anjali looked at the unfamiliar building, she asked, "Will they hurt me?" and so I explained where we were, what we were doing, and that no one here would hurt her. She immediately felt secure, and held my hand as we walked up to the school. I don't think it would have been that easy if she didn't have confidence that I would be truthful with her. It's a tough one, do we sugar coat the world for our kids, or do we tell them the truth even when it's a little scary? I'm going to keep being truthful, even though it means that when we're in the grocery store and someone stops to admire Nadira, Anjali will proudly explain how she grew in Mommy's belly, and came out of her 'gina. (thank goodness most people don't know that means 'vagina'!)
Yawn!
Rough week, poor Anjali had a stomach virus, and we ended up in the ER with her. She's pretty much at the top of her game again, thank goodness.
Nadira spent the last two nights in the crib in Anjali's room. Soon I'm going to dismantle the bassinet. She slept until almost 8 this morning, and happily played with her toes while I gave Anjali a quick bath (someone had an accident last night.)
New book is going great, I've cleared a hundred pages and am about a third of the way through the plot. My writing has slowed down a lot with Anjali being sick, but I'm going to try to pick up the pace some today.
Nadira spent the last two nights in the crib in Anjali's room. Soon I'm going to dismantle the bassinet. She slept until almost 8 this morning, and happily played with her toes while I gave Anjali a quick bath (someone had an accident last night.)
New book is going great, I've cleared a hundred pages and am about a third of the way through the plot. My writing has slowed down a lot with Anjali being sick, but I'm going to try to pick up the pace some today.
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