Where Will I Find The Time?

Apparently I know more than I thought. That phone interview that I thought went poorly led to an office interview, that led to another interview with a founder, which was really just a check that needed to be checked off, that led to an offer being made on the spot, which leads to me starting work on Monday. Yikes.

I'm exciting about it, very excited, but anxious, pretty anxious. It has been 10+ years since I've had a job where I had to go into an office, work all day, go home, sleep, then get up the next day and do it again, repeat, repeat, repeat,...

I tell myself that people do this all the time, and more importantly there are moms that do this all the time. Moms who work and do marathons and triatholons. I just haven't been one of them. Until now. So I'm busy this week trying to shuffle things around. I can't go into the kids' classes anymore so I've let that go. I'm trying to arrange one day a month that I can leave work a little early so I can get to the kids' school to run PTO Board meeting. It helps when the president is actually at the meetings. I've bought a reflective vest so I can run either early am or evenings, depending on how it works best for me. I've arranged for after school care for the kids until the R's classes end in December. Things are falling into place. I just hope that my mind can wrap itself around the work once I actually start. All of that work stuff is still in my brain. I just hope it can be accessed in a timely fashion when I need it!

The HR woman told me they were excited about me. Like kids in a candy store. I thought...uh oh! What are they expecting? The idea of being a disappointment worries me. Although...that probably motivates me to work hard and probably always has. Making me less likely to disappoint.

I've never held a real job while having kids. Our lives will be changing oh so much. We're going to have to work though it because given our family temperament it won't be easy and I'm not willing to compromise any more on the level of cleanliness we live in. I've already gone down to my limit! So my goal is to make it easy for them to make me happy. We'll see how that works out. We'll see how it all works out. I expect that in a few months we'll be settled on this new path. It just may be a little bit rockier than the trail we were on and we'll have to adjust our steps and watch out for those bigger rocks. In the long run, it will be good for us. All of us.

Apparently the More I Live The Less I Know

Otherwise known as the SQL-cursor-what-the-heck-is-that-moment.

In a life before I had kids I was a computer programmer. I typed cryptic words into files, compiled them, then things magically happened on computers. It was fun. I knew what I was doing. It made sense. At the time.

I had a phone interview today. It seemed like it would be promising. After all I've written thousands of lines, yes, thousands, of SQL code in my day. I remember doing it. I can even remember some of it. However during the interview I was asked to tell the woman a good thing and a bad thing about SQL cursors. Had I used them, she asked. Well...I have...but....I couldn't remember a damn thing about them. And I had to fess up, that it had been a long time since I used them that I didn't really remember them. Arrrggg... I would've been better off if I just said that I never used them because they aren't so hot as it turns out. After the interview I googled SQL cursors, looked at a few examples, and realized that I'd definitely seen them, but probably hadn't coded them myself. I was pretty sure I remembered who had used them and that they had used them quite frequently. There are a lot of things in my brain like that, work things. Things I knew. Things I can remember and pick up again very quickly if need be. But they are lurking there like distant memories and not very useful during an interview.

select * from current_life, old_life

where current_life.knowledge = old_life.skill

group by memories, age

Hopefully the result isn't null.

Pregnancy hormone leads to weight loss?

Initially when I first heard about the hcg diet it made no sense to me. I do NOT lose weight while pregnant, even in the earliest stages. The baseball moms were whispering about this diet that someone was trying...you spray hcg under your tongue 2 or 3 times a day, ingest 500 calories of food (very defined food list and schedule) and experience significant weight loss fairly quickly. The argument about using the hcg in addition to the low calorie diet was that the hcg made your body act like it's pregnant and forces it to go to the fat to get calories you are deficient in rather than getting it from the muscle. Supposedly it helps get rid of that deep seated fat and continues to amp you up like you have ingested 1500 calories.

Now several moms have tried it and have had pretty good success. I think several have used an appetite suppressant which helps them deal with the only 500 CALORIES a day. Ultimately I think they've been pleased by the results.

Last week one of my running friends mentioned that she was considering this diet. Of course this isn't something you can do and actually run or do much exercise while doing it. It just got to me that apparently this diet (which has actually been around for years) is burning like a wildfire around the women I know here.

But here is my problem with it...beside the fact that it's only 500 calories! For me at least my food issues aren't just the overeating or the eating of the sweets. For me it's the place food occupies in my life. It's a main focus. I love food. I like the taste. I like the texture. I like the colors. I love how I feel sitting on my sofa with an cupful of soup or chili and a piece of fresh sourdough bread. It is just so pleasing to me. I watch the Food Network for crying out loud! And enjoying food isn't a really a problem. It's one of those things that separates us from the other animals. It's art that you can eat.

The danger is when you aren't actually savoring the food, but just mindlessly putting in your mouth, chewing, and swallowing without real recognition of the flavors. It's having my hand in a bowl of m&ms, grabbing about 10, popping them in my mouth, while I'm reading, and not really tasting the chocolate and crunchy candy shell, then grabbing another 10, repeat until the bowl is empty.

Sometimes diets since they are restrictive and you don't just sit there and eat and eat and eat, do allow you to regain that appreciation of foods' flavors. And that's great because appreciating the flavor of the orange is what it's all about.

The problem with diets, though, is they can feed the food obsession. I can become even more obsessed with food while on a diet because it's the charting, the planning, the weighing , the counting, .... Again it's all about food. Food, food, food. I've seen the pattern in myself several times. I've lost lots of weight on Weight Watchers many times. I've gained it back too.

What I'm trying now is to just let it happen. I'm certainly more motivated to lose some weight because with all of the work I'm doing physically I don't want it to be for naught. I've just naturally been doing better with grabbing a handful of grapes rather than a couple of cookies. I do think about it of course, as I make my choices. I'm trying to avoid the whole total immersion into a food plan thing, though. I don't think it solves my food problems even though it makes me look better for a year or two.

This winter will be a test of my resolve, though. Watch me tout the beauty of hcg under the tongue come January!

New Shoes for Me

There are days these days when it's all about me. You don't hear moms who can say that very often. And really, it's not completely accurate. But hey...there are moments in those days when it is about ME.

I started running a year or so ago because I could run 3 miles a little faster than I could walk 3 miles. That allowed me to exercise then go on with the rest of my day which was at that time about everyone else and what they needed. I picked running because I could then do all of the other things I needed to do and still squeeze in that time for myself without sacrificing anyone else.

It changed about 8 weeks ago though when I decided to train to do a half marathon. Half marathons are 13.1 miles which takes most of us two or more hours to do. In my case way more than 2 hours to do, but I'll get to that later.

So this training starts to add up. My short runs shot up to an hour long instead of the half hour. I had to add a long run to the routine and that took at least 2 hours. There is a good 4-6 hours of ME running. I also became more known to people around here as a runner, so when a boot camp class was scheduled I was on the email list. And I joined. So that added 2 evenings a week at an hour and a half each to my "training". See...it's becoming more and more about ME. MY. I.

Before my boot camp class I would make sure that the crockpot was cooking something savory and yummy. That salad was made. That there was sourdough bread to be served. And then...off I went. The R actually served the meal. I would come home dripping in sweat, desperately seeking a shower, after which I'd get into my jammies (see where this is going?), scoop some savory crocked food into a bowl, slice and butter a piece of bread and hunker down for my dinner. So this hour and a half becomes closer to 2 and a half hours that are all about ME. Because I also selected the tv show to watch while I ate. I. am. so. selfish!

I don't feel that it's all about me while I'm running or being booted around. It's hard, hard, work. I've never put myself through anything as difficult physically. I'm just not that type. The boot camp is great for me because I do not set the pace. My body feels like it's really been used once it's over. Part of the high is seeing that I can meet these challenges; it's not completely endorphins, though those help! Once the run is done, I can feel what I've done for MYself.

This all about me thing can be pretty good. We all need to put ourselves at the top of the list sometime. Some families are better about cherishing everyone in the family I suppose. Before the half marathon I did last weekend, the other women, their families, and my family got together for a pre-race pasta dinner. One of the women has done it for most of her big races. One of the daughers, just a year younger than the N, gave each of us ladies a chocolate truffle and a note of encouragement. Something to the effect of "You go, girl!". Never in a million years would that occur to my family.

The next morning, on our pre-sunrise ride up, one woman (the one with the lovely truffle daughter) talked about the notes her kids wrote and left out for her over night. One of the other moms talked about the little recorded notes her kids had put onto her ipod. It made me realize that my running was something that I just kept in a seperate box from my family. They weren't that aware of it since I tend to run before most of the household has gotten up. The N is really the only one who thinks to talk to me about it and his comments are mainly about my time goals. And not necessarily in a good way (like if I miss a goal by a couple of minutes he'll harp on it!) Maybe part of it is that I have all boys and a husband who is pretty blunt.

A lot of the encouragement I receive is from other women...and it is that typical girlie talk about "you can do it", "you are so ready",... You know, the kind of superficial, nice talk that is kind, but not really specifically about me and my skill level. I did have one woman tell me how "proud" she was of me, which I took as a misuse of the word proud. I can't imagine anyone but me being proud of me.

It was nice when we crossed the finish line (the slower 2 of us) and the other 2 women were cheering us on. It was nice to be seen and recognized. Usually I run alone, cross the line alone, get my water alone, use the toilet, then drive home alone. And since they were so rested, being so much faster and all, they were able to help get water, since I had completely lost my breath sprinting to the finish once I finally (and believe me I was so thrilled to finally see it!) saw the timing clock : 02:32:46. Our marathon training friends had finished in less than 2 hours (01:57 and 01:59). They knew we needed some help! We had both had some foot issues during the run so it was nice to be able to sit and catch our breath. It's nice to have someone who understands why we're mad at our damn shoe because it feels like there is a rock in there when there isn't.

I didn't feel bad though that my family didn't focus more on what I've been doing. I've kept it to myself in a way. I don't make a big deal about it or talk about it alot. It MY thing. But it was also nice to share it with a few other women who made it THEIR thing, too.

And to my marathon training friends "You can do it! You are so ready!" And I so mean it!

Don't Sweat the Sweat!

I've always been embarrassed by how much I sweat. Other women could aerobicize without even a glisten, but I'd be dripping, desperate for a towel.

While running, the sweat does it's job. I'm not aware of dripping while in forward motion. It's once I stop that it literally pours out of my pores. My kids no longer dive at me when I return from a run. "Ewwwww, you're wet!" is what I hear as I run upstairs for my shower.

But it's been the classes I've been taking recently that has made me become comfortable in my sweat. The women, all younger and fitter than I, sweat. Seriously sweat. Our instructor drips sweat. All over her cute outfits. She works us hard. We all sweat. It's a good thing. It's a sign that we're working and getting something out of it.

So get your sweat on!

Oh the memories...

It's hard to believe I got a college degree all those many years ago and this is how I spend my time! Actually this year I didn't stress much over J and M's birthday party. Once we decided we weren't going to spend $200 bouncing around I let go and didn't think much about it at all. After all having a sleep over is practically free (except for the little lego sets for the goody bags).

Saturday morning I did my long run for the week (12 miles!). Then it was time to think about having a bunch of 7 year old boys in the house for the evening and night. I kept my body from stiffening up after the run by doing housework, standing around in the kitchen making meatballs and cake.

I wasn't happy though. J and M have 2 friends who don't get along. Literally they fight. Long ago we had decided that when one is invited over we wouldn't have the other one over because it was just not fun for us at all. Unfortunately that would mean that one friend would be excluded from the big sleepover. And that was our initial plan as unsettling as that is. Yes. We were going to be jerks. I think that we had hopes that this would be the weekend he would be at his dad's. I know I had hoped it would work out that way. Of course it didn't. In the couple of days leading up to the big day and the big day itself he was here. All. of. the. Time. In the end we decided we would just have to deal with ever friction came up between the boys. I went over and talked to his mom and explained it all. And he came over for the party. Yay! I felt much relieved. It felt like we were on the right path again.

Having both of the boys didn't really add much to the general level of stress anyway. It's just hectic having that many kids in our small house. I had envisioned sending the R downstairs to be the enforcer, but no... he went to sleep. So...I stayed up until the last boy had fallen asleep. They did pretty good - it wasn't that long after midnight. I was extra tired though since I'd gotten up early to run. I had planned on making pancakes and sausage for breakfast on Sunday, but the N was up first and helped make each kid's breakfast. What a sweetie!

Once the party was over and the boys went home we could settle in and celebrate a quiet birthday. J and M busied themselves with legos for most of the day. I may have napped! It's funny, but it wasn't until the evening during nighttime snuggles that we really stopped to reflect on 7 years ago. It's amazing how long ago that seems. My tiny boys...all three of them really. The N was only 3, but acted so big. I remembered how he had just cried so heartbrokenly on the phone when he realized that I would be staying at the hospital. Now he just smiles when I remind him of his sweetness and tell him how we talked on the phone that first night, how we did our goodnights, sang our songs, told our stories until he went to sleep holding the phone. I reflect too of what has changed. I realized I don't hold them enough anymore. I miss it. So much.

Yesterday my neighbor told me she's 14 weeks pregnant with fraternal twins. She wants to pick my brain. To hear about what it was like. I can see bittersweet times are ahead. I already feel tears pricking my eyes and I haven't even really gone back yet. I'm looking forward to visiting my memories. I can feel my boys in my arms now. They really love it there, they just don't seek them out as often as they used to. And I don't seek them out as often as I used to. There's no good reason for that.

Too often it seems as though I am angry with them. I AM at times. I get so tired of getting on them about the same old things. I don't like seeing toys in every room of the house. I don't like having to always tell them to make their beds and get dressed before going to the computer or the tv. I don't want to argue about homework before ps3. They are participants in our relationship, too. They have an end to keep up. They have to think about how I feel about things, too. It's not all about them, or all about the R, or all about me. We're a family and we have to care about what is important to each other. But they need to realize that these moments where I get angry are fleeting moments. That we move on from it (once they pick up their crap!). I feel that they take it to heart too much. Instead of just going to take care of whatever they need to, they get sullen. It seems to snowball then. I don't think I should have to coddle or plead with them to do their jobs. If they don't follow through they deserve to have some consequence which may be my annoyance. Guys, just pick up your stuff so we can move on!

I look forward to having freshly remembered their babyness and bringing them into my arms to tell them all about it. It will be nice to change the conversation every once in a while. We need that.

Double Rainbows

Well this is a day late, but hopefully not a syllable short. I'm participating in the PerPoTues at The Little Stuff of Life.

Double Rainbows

Faded hues. Reflect

yet another, more vibrant.

Hope fades. Then returns.

We've seen a lot of these double rainbows this year. It's been a couple of weeks since this photo was taken from my back porch. We haven't had many storms as of late. Not outside anyway.

Rainbows of course are used as symbols of many things - peace, unity, a promise between God and man. The storm is winding down, the sun's face is showing. It's supposed to get better now.

I personally like storms. I love the energy and the excitement of thunder and lightening. There are just times I need that energy to come from outside of myself.

I always think of a book I used to read to my kids where one of the main characters is glum and stays glum until a good thunderstorm comes along to shake things up.

I feel like Toot.

It's the same during the winter. I like to see the snow falling, making the ground white. That means that today is going to be a little different than yesterday. And probably different than tomorrow.

But's it's also nice when the storm stops. On summer days the air is still cool, damp, and fresh. Often when it's still stormy to the east we're treated with the luminous arc of colors that makes us just stop for a moment to look. We usually share the moment. And it's quiet. Calm. For a moment.

Figure 8 Crazy

The N's Cub Scout pack held the flag at the opening ceremony at the Colorado National Speedway last Saturday evening. Racing here is small time. The 24 car didn't have Jeff Gordon in it or anything. But The N loves to watch races so he was pretty excited about being able to go down onto the track with his Scout buds.

For me racing is okay, but I'm good for about the last 10 laps at Bristol. And that's on the television. Once the excitement of a spin out is passed you still to wait a long time for the green, green, green. And then you are lucky if you get 4 more laps before another caution goes into play. But I thought, hey, it'll probably be fun for a couple of hours anyway.

There were a variety of races. Some were stock cars much like the NASCAR cars that are on the big circuit. This is a NASCAR race track, just a lower (much!) tier of competition. A couple of the races I picked a fave car and routed for it (they ended up in 2nd place both times). Most of the time I was pretty bored with it all. It's just like the R says - "a bunch of bubbas going in circles". Except...

For the crazies who do figure 8 racing. What is up with that? It's like the normal crashing into the wall and spinning out is no longer enough. No! We want to see people racing through an intersection and hopefully really have a smash-up. This is the configuration of the speedway:

During the Figure 8 race the cars don't drive the oval, they drive the ends and through the crossover (which isn't actually over, there is no over). So it all starts just fine when the cars are all bunched up, but of course after the first couple of laps the fast guys get ahead and are soon over a half of a lap in front of the slow pokes. I watched this race with hands over my eyes, because I REALLY didn't want to see a wreck. That's not excitement in my book. I look away when I see ambulances and firetrucks at an intersection. I watch anything resembling a horror film through my fingers. The idea of a train wreck makes me want to run the other way. I won't even watch Jon and Kate + 8 (minus 1, or is it minus 2?) or any other reality type TV. Frankly, they scare and depress me.

The rest of the time at the track I just watched people and wondered. Why are you here? What pleasure are you getting from this? Is watching the tow crews pull a car out of the wall some sort of a highlight for you?

I just don't get it.

Only 13.1 miles to go

We are approaching the end of summer vacation at an alarming pace. During our first hour after school let out last May I wondered how I would survive the summer. 3 months. 3 potentially hot months (though it didn't turn out that way). The boys were bored, maybe feeling the let down of not being busy all of a sudden, not having anything they had to do, and thus not knowing where to begin. I wasn't bored. Not by a long shot. I was still recovering from all of the end of the year activities, doing some Dreamweaver and Photoshop work, and still trying to figure out how we would spend summer.

Well. We figured it out. We just lived it. We hung around. A lot. We had a lot of baseball. A lot of baseball. Some golf. Some swimming. Lots of burgers, hot dogs and popsicles. Lots of green ice tea and IZZEs. Lots of salads, berries, and melon. Grilled chicken. Yum! Skateboarding and bike riding. A bit of hiking, with more to come next week. I ran 2 10K races and 1 5k race and decided somewhere down the road that I would train for a 1/2 marathon, 13.1 miles of running.

But almost 3 months have gone by. We've had fun. The kids have wound down. I've even wound down even though really I'm always on edge, wound up, trying to figure out the next move. What. Should. I. Do. Always in the back of my mind. Send a resume here. Send a resume there. Hopefully the summer has been fine for the kids. I'd hate to think that they are so aware of my internal struggle. There are days I feel like I have a plan of action. There are days I feel like I'm starting from scratch with no idea of how to proceed. My only consistent focus has been on running, getting ready for Sept 6th, a 10 mile race, then Sept. 20th. the 13 mile event. Most of my other self improvements have gone by the wayside.

I would've expected more off of my waistline given running more. Last week I ran over 20 miles! That's almost twice as much as I was running at the beginning of the summer. Obviously I'm not really seeing what I'm eating because my stomach is still out there. I see a difference all over in terms of my muscles, but the fat is still sitting there. The mirror always surprises me, because I feel so much better than I look. I didn't want to start school as the frumpy mother again. In spite of all of my physical activity I still have the look of frump. Sigh. That's not likely to change in the next 2 weeks before school begins.


On the days I feel good I feel like I'm able to start over again, anew. On those other days, I realize that not everything is in my control and I can't plan those things.

All I can control is my eating, my running, and how I reevaluate my next steps. Only 13.1 miles to go.

What is the sound a balloon makes?

Something like pffffttttttttttttttttttttttt? I feel like that today.

A week ago I ventured out to a short informal job interview. You know the one that gets your foot in the door for the big, full-day, more stringent, rigid, maybe you'll actually get the position interview ?

I went to the interview nervous, but confident in my ability to do the advertised job. A friend had pretty much badgered his old boss into giving me an interview because I was "perfect" and "highly qualified" for the job. I'm not sure HR agreed since they didn't pass my resume on the the man I was going to interview with. My previous communication with the HR guy consisted of a lot of "what have you been doing for the past few years?" types of questions...and not a lot of encouragement given my answers.

Pre-interview hours were spent studying up on certain technical aspects of the job, coming up with what I should wear (not a suit, since it was much more informal), and getting my nails done so I'd look a little bit pulled together. Getting ready for the interview, I felt like crap about myself and how I look. When I last worked I was about 25lbs lighter, well...before I gained the 60lbs while pregnant with the N during those last 8 months of working. I was also almost 11 years younger - and I can sure see the difference. And there is not much you can do about carrying too much weight in 2 days.

During the interview I did okay. I was able to talk about my work in the past and comment on the job and it's responsibilities and how I would fit in. However...it has been a long, long, long time since I'd done that work. While I remember at a high-level power point chart type of way what it was all about, being able to give exact detail was difficult. When I was a consultant I was on 3 different engagements. I remember the engagements, where they were, who I was with, etc. What I don't remember is what the heck I did all day. Seriously. One of the engagements I was responsible for establishing the IT processes and requirements for a client for whom we were building an SAP system, but wow...that's about all I can remember. We didn't use any special tools... I just documented things using MSWord and Powerpoint. On another engagement I managed the development of a system that received input from suppliers about part inventories and such that was used for Supply Chain Management by our client. Again...I cannot remember much about how I spent each day.

The worst thing was that on my way home as I pondered the interview I had an epiphany about the job. They are in the process of redefining how people and external systems access the data from their system. We did something similar when I was at my aerospace job. I was smack dab in the middle of determining the architecture of the system, developing requirements, use cases, etc, but I completely forgot about that, given that at the time I was also managing 40 engineers and our current system. That project was like a baby I had that I forgot about. Once I remembered it, it was like a flood gate of knowledge just poured from my closed up little brain.

I emailed the man I talked to with a thank you for the interview and discussed the project that I had done that was so similar to what his department is embarking upon. But it was too little too late. The door closed with my foot firmly outside. pffffttttttttttttttttttttttt

There are still some opportunities out there. My friend has also talked me up to another manager, in a group that is probably more closely aligned with what I used to do.

What worries me is where do I go from here, if that job doesn't work out? My experience isn't getting stronger while I'm sitting here not working. I'm stuck in the under qualified for a lot of jobs, over qualified for a lot of jobs, but out of the loop for too long for most of the jobs. It's not like I can just learn the new programming languages and start from that. I don't think many would hire me for entry level programming jobs. I feel like I'm walking in circles here. If the many years of experience I had before the N was born is now no longer valid, I'm likely to just do something completely different.

I've started looking into medical tech fields like diagnostic imaging. It's not going to be a $20K degree (I hope!) and it shouldn't take that long to do the program. And I can start from the beginning with that alternative. Sometimes the beginning is best...that known starting place. Something that everyone can agree upon.

Intentional Walks

When I watch professional baseball on TV, nothing gets me riled up more than watching a pitcher playing catch with the catcher outside the batter's box, not allowing the batter a chance to hit the ball. I actually will um...talk...to the pitcher through the TV. The words chicken plus a few more letters (4 to be exact), cross my lips. I know it's a strategy, but it DRIVES ME CRAZY. Pitch to the batter! Don't be afraid. Don't you think you can handle him? Stop relying on a loophole and just play it straight! I kind of have the same problem with intentional fouling in basketball (though I understand that better) and shorting the stock market.

Don't we humans create complicated systems? It seems in so many areas of our lives knowing how to manipulate the rules has become as much a part of the game as just playing the game used to be. It's made winning more important than playing a good, strong, decent game.

I heard a story about the N's baseball coach that took me back a bit. He has always struck me as someone who wanted to play the game out, to let the kids finish it out on their own merit, rather than having something as random as weather or something affect the outcome. I respected that. I would rather win because we played well rather than the other team made a lot of mistakes.

What I heard about our coach has made me see him quite differently. Last year's team was quite a bit stronger than this year's team and we'd always been aware there had been a huge break in the team that caused the team to fragment and split. The old assistant coach was and still is an a$$. I've seen him swear at the kids' on his team, get seriously terse with the blue and the other team coaches. He's been very well known around the league and had been ejected from games on more than one occasion, including the very first game that we played against them this year. From our sideline his antics were rather humorous because it was just so ludicrous. He ended up being banned from the league a month ago after throwing a ball into his team's dugout while there was still a child in it. He has no business being a coach.

The a$$ coach and our coach had a serious falling out that led to our coach being suspended from the league that they were both in. We didn't know the exact circumstances and believed that the a$$ had tried to take down our coach. We'd certainly never seen anything in our coach that concerned us in terms of how he treats the kids and his integrity.

During a break in this weekend's league tournament we heard the story. Apparently this time last year during the same tournament the team was on the championship path. There is a very strong team at the top of our league who appears to be pretty invincible. I think that they are actually playing down by being in AAA instead of majors. I guess last year they were just as strong. Our team (before it was our team) was playing them in the potential final game...or if our team lost the second to last game (so the other team had already lost a game). The other team was weakened because two of their star players, twin brothers, were just getting back from vacation and expected to land at the airport at 3pm. During the game I guess there were some problems, some minor injuries, and our guys were starting to lose the game.

What we were told by a parent who's son was on our team last year, was that the umpires had told our coach that he could forfeit the current game (take the loss) and start off the next and final game right away. This would reduce the chance of the star players for the other team arriving in time for the game. If the current game continued on and our team ended up losing then they would most likely have to face those boys and the other team and likely lose again. Hmmmm....

After a meeting with parents our coach decided to forfeit and go on to the next game. It ended up not mattering anyway because even though our team was winning that last game, once the star boys got there our boys wilted and lost the game. End of story according to the other parent.

Really? That was the coaching approach to handling this team and that game? Really? WTF was screaming in my head. I may be naive. I may think like a baby. Is winning really worth getting there by tweaking around the rules? Why not win by playing the game better than the other team? Is that really so naive, so passe?

Besides the questionable integrity issues, what our coach communicated to his team last year was that, no, they could NOT win against that other team when they had all of their players. They could not come up with game winning strategies to beat them, so instead we'll go to the rule book for some sort of loophole. He elevated those star boys to being in the sky instead of talking to our boys about how to play against them. In that moment, being a champion wasn't coming from within. It's hoping that someone trips instead of hoping you can be faster than them. And that drives me crazy. No wonder the boys faded once those other boys came onto the field. They weren't taught strategies on how to play against them. They were being taught how to avoid playing them. That is not a winning attitude. Not in my book.

This weekend we watched as that other team pummelled the lowest seed team at the beginning of the tournament. One of the star boys had gotten 3 home runs by hitting the ball over the outfielder's head repeatly. One of our players was literally awestruck as he explained it to me. All of our boys who were watching the game had their mouths wide open. I asked the boy who raved about the 3 homers, "so, if you were playing them and they hit the ball over your head what would you do the next time that kid was up to bat?". He just looked at me, completely clueless. I said something to the affect of "wouldn't you position yourself further back so you could have a chance to catch the ball next time?". Inside my head I screamed, "Wouldn't you?" Because I already knew the answer. He wouldn't. He would again just stand there and humbly bow as the ball flew by. Because he would have already given up.

Our team isn't very good this year and we've been surprised by how the team in general seems to lack the drive and ambition to try to be really good. None of the better players are that leader-like. Our N and one of the other good pitchers seem to be more the loner types who perfect their skills on their own. I know N feels that being new on the team puts him in the backseat. He's that kind of kid. We couldn't figure out what the heck had happened because we knew that last year's team had been so strong. And the story we had made up in our own minds was that the harda$$ parents had followed the a$$ coach and the "nicer", less pushy and competitive, parents had stayed with our coach. But now I have to wonder...was it the parents and kids who felt confident enough in the abilities of the kids' to play the game, really play the game, who left, leaving behind those who were less certain, more apt to slump the shoulders rather than play as hard as they could even if they ended up losing in the end.

To be fair our coach had told the R a similar story about what had happened last year. Except he told the story as though in the first game there were injuries and they decided to forfeit to give the boys time to rest before the next game. Important details that he left out: that the next game was against the same team for the championship, who the other team was, that the game was to follow immediately so there was NO rest time, and that the opposing team had two star players on the way for the second game. The story sounded quite different given those slight modifications.

As a footnote, just in case you thought our coach was the only jerk on the field, this weekend the awesome kiss the sky team played against another team we know and almost lost. I would imagine they were a bit on the stunned side. According to a parent who's son was on the losing team, the coach for the awesome, invincible team called "get off the mound" while his kids were up to bat (bad because his team wasn't on the mound pitching). The pitcher for the other team thought was his coach and he made the move causing him to get called for a balk, which had effect of allowing the tying run to come in due to the penalty. Another run came in that resulted in our friends' team to lose against awesome, star boys team. This was the story as told to us by parents on the losing team, but it doesn't surprise me. We were watching the game on the side of the awesome team and the stress was palpable. They didn't know how to lose. Winning at all costs is the lesson to the kids.

I hope to use these baseball coaches as lessons for my kids too. Children: This is what you don't want to be when you grow up.

What I want them to learn:

You practice how you play. You need your passion to make you want to practice and play hard. Watch the seams of the ball. Hit the ball. Run as fast as you can. Pitch on the corners below the belt. Play back when you are in center field. Try to make the catch; your glove isn't a magnet; you may have to run after it. Throw bullets not rainbows. Be in the game. Have fun with it. Let your passion lead you.

How Can You Have Just One?

I was doing some Google research on motivation, as in how to obtain myself some. I used to have plenty, but I don't know where it all went. Before I got sidetracked on Lumosity, a game playing site, I read something about limiting one's goals. You know, you've probably read something similar before. Don't decide that it's time to lose weight, time to start exercising, time to write that novel bouncing around in your brain, time to start cooking gourmet cuisine, time to redecorate your abode, time to ... well you get it.


I thought about my goals. Right now I'm trying to lose about 25lbs, speed up my pace and lengthen my running time, look for a new job, learn some new technology for website development, have a more zen-like approach to my life. All things that are important to me...right now! The only problem? I cannot seem to move.


I don't know why.


I've been able to do most of these things before. I've definitely been able to lose substantial amounts of weight. Once I get going I do pretty well. I know what foods I should eat and what quantities are right for me. I even like those foods. Too bad I like sugary foods just as much, if not more. Given my age I probably can't eat as much of them as I used to be able to. I know that it's recommended to not have the dangerous foods in the house, but hey...I don't live alone and the other people don't have the same problem with them that I do. My problem is in my own personal reward system. I seem to think that making it through the day is enough to earn the reward of some m&ms and york peppermint patties. Hey they are both dark chocolate! That's sort of good isn't it? But I'm obviously not burning enough fuel to compensate for the candy.

On the website front.... I like to build websites. I like the immediate gratification of seeing the results of your work. Sometimes software systems take months or years to see the actual system work. But I cannot get myself into reading about these different methodologies and tools for building the websites. I even have 2 projects that I can work on. I'm just not getting paid for these so doing them is obviously not enough incentive, although I'm certain once they are done I'll feel great about them.



I've finally got my resume in order. That's no small task given it's been 10 years since I stopped working and needed to have a resume. I've even submitted it for a few jobs. I look at some of these jobs and I know I can do them. I used to do very similar work. But they are fairly high up the chain and I feel that being out of the loop so long is a huge detriment. But stepping into a job like that would be easier than stepping into something a little lower down, but more technical. So much of the technical stuff is different now. There seem to be so many programming and scripting languages. It used to be if you knew one employers realized you could learn another quickly. Now learning on the job doesn't appear to ever be an option. So you have to pick which language to focus on and hope there is enough demand for that one. Sigh...



Anyway...supposedly having too many goals is motivation and energy draining. Ah ha! Well that explains it! But when all of the goals are important to obtain, like I really need to lose weight and exercise while re-learning the new technologies and get past being a SAHM for over 10 years and move into the working world I find I cannot just choose one to focus on.

Maybe divvying up my day into specific chunks of time devoted to working towards my goals might help me get the discipline to accomplish something. Divvy up the goals into daily tasks, too, might help. That's the other big piece of advice, right? Small steps, baby steps,...

It's Always Better Come Morning

I awoke last night, wide awake, mind abuzz, stomach tight with angst. After some minutes the clock chimed two times. I lay there in about the same state for over an hour. I know this because I heard the clock as it did its work on each quarter of an hour that I was awake.

What I worried about wasn't really that big of a deal. Well it was, but I bet in a couple of years it'll be history. What I noticed the most was the feeling of gloom and doom. And the lack of an escape plan.

I was worried about the N because he had kind of a loser attitude at his baseball game last night. And worse...it starts before he's made an out. He's in a batting slump right now, but it seems that he thinks he should have great hits every time at the plate. Except he doesn't do a lot of practice. Hmmmm....

What worried me though isn't the strike-out. It's tears. At the second strike. I understand that there is pressure. I understand that he's tense and emotionally he doesn't have a lot alternatives for expression. But it's such a regular thing it seems like a habit. I can't value the tears because they seem to fall a lot and on things far less significant like losing at a video game. I worry about the tears for many reasons: they seem extreme, they perpetuate his outcomes, they weaken him because that becomes the focus. I can't seem to help him move past them, to channel the emotion into something that he can use. We try talking about what he's feeling when it happens. We try to help reduce the pressure by pointing out that no one moment really matters even if it's the last out in the game, it's only one of many outs by many people. We try to help him visualize his success. We try to give him tools to focus. But we can't do it. Only he can. It's hard to let go.

I worry because I'm afraid that he'll give up. I don't want him to start giving up on things because they are hard. This is the first year it's been hard for him in baseball (and other things too). Natural ability got him this far and made it easy for him. Too easy. Now he doesn't understand having to try, having to work at it. It's not baseball I'm afraid that he'll lose. It's the ability to see something through without giving up.

But he doesn't have a good set of models. This is where my angst really lies. Our family angst carpets our home. We have a lot of laughter, a lot of love, but disappointments can thickly fill our rooms too.

We aren't showing him how to work though problems very well even though we would have a lot of opportunity to do so. It's not like we're short of problems.

While we may have plans they are vague. The R working on another advanced degree, slowly plodding along. This degree that might get him some opportunities. Someday.

Me finally starting to submit resumes to get back into the type of work I did before I was a mom. I have ambiguous feelings about it so I'm less than enthusiastic about it. Our lives will change so much. And I don't know if the rewards from the work will offset the disappointment that it came down to me going back to my career full force. And I fretted about my weight which in spite of my running hasn't changed even though my legs and arms feel more muscular. And knowing that losing 20lbs would be best for me hasn't been enough to get me to do it.

How does that lack of determination affect my kids?

So last night while all the thoughts were churning hopelessly in my mind it felt very dark, very deep, far beyond where my hopes could reach out of the cave I was in.

Then sleep took over and morning came. I woke up determined to make a plan. A plan for work. A plan to train. A plan to set a better example. A plan to take control of my out of control life.

Then tonight I'll make a nice cup of tea and eat a bowl of M&Ms and be back to where I was.

That's Two!

I survived today's Sunrise Stampede 10K. I cannot tell you the pride I felt when I crossed the finish line even though the clock read 1:10:37 (70 minutes, 37 seconds). That's about 2 minutes shorter than my BolderBoulder time. I think I ran about the same pace, but I was able to run a straight line rather than constantly weaving in and out. The day was gorgeous! A little warmer than during the BolderBoulder, but not too hot. A year ago I couldn't run a mile, let alone 6.

It was just me since the N had to head up to Cheyenne for a baseball tournament. The twins spent the night at a friends so I was able to go home, shower, change, and even make a fresh latte before picking them up and whisking them off to Wyoming for a baseball game.

Probably not the wisest way to spend over 4 hours given the driving was just under 3 hours of that. But the little guys and I have to miss the championship game tomorrow since the J has a flag football tournament, which he is less than excited about. We anticipate that there will only be one football game since his team just isn't that good. Sucks is the word he uses before I admonish him for saying suck (he is only 6). They play about as well as a group of 6/7 year olds that haven't played before would play. I think they've only scored 6 touchdowns in the games they played, and J scored 3 of those in the 1 game they won. Against a team that doesn't appear to have much defense.

But J's game is during N's game so that makes it impossible to be at both. So at least I don't feel the need to try.

One good thing about the Cheyenne tournament is that it is an overnighter. That gives me some unwind time that is just mine. Mine only. I'll be alone for several hours while M and J are sleeping. Of course I'll sleep, too, but before that...it's just me. One of the big problems of having the R out of work (besides the lack of money, health care benefits, etc) is that there is just too much togetherness. Sometimes it's great having him around the house when no one else is (if you know what I mean), but I am a person in need of alone time. And sometimes I like to be alone in my house. With nothing I have to do.

And We're Off!

Summer vacation started officially 1 week ago.

To date I've: planted my garden and herbs,

cut down the stems of my bulb flowers of spring past, hung up my hanging planters, weeded,




cleaned out the pantry and the fridge,


changed out my bedspread, run a 10K (the BolderBoulder),

Can you find me?

I walked over a mile in a thunderstorm, and run an additional 12 miles. I've stretched yoga-style for about two hours.

I've attended 3 baseball games and 2 football games.

I've taken the N to piano twice, but only because I forgot the new time I had set up so we actually missed the lesson and had to go back the next day.

I've baked cookies twice (this doesn't go well with the running aspect of the program).


To counteract the effect of the cookies I've eaten 7 salad lunches. I've had fish twice. I've eaten the equivilant of one watermelon, a pint of berries, and god only knows how many grapes, both of the green and red variety.

I've made 12 lattes and 5 ice teas. I've snagged several sips of IZZIs left over from my boys. I've sipped about 30 glasses of water. I've finished 2 beach weight library books. We checked out 15 books from the library last week.

I have NOT: actually applied for jobs using my shiny, new resume. I have NOT worked at all on my friend's web site, that I'm creating for free to have in my portfolio. I've decided I probably need to learn a new technology (drupal) to create this website so I've put my dreamweaver version on hold. However I cannot bear to pick up the book I got about drupal, so I have no clue on how to start.

Which would you pick?

Growth Spurts

Growing up in California, the seasons were pretty much sunny and warm, and rainy and not quite as warm. Things were at their greenest during the winter months when it might, but not necessarily rain for a few days here and there. Things went brown in about June, and become tinder and crispy in July and August.

For the past 10 plus years I've lived places where outdoor life goes dormant for a season, then comes vibrantly back for the spring and early summer. I've never seen sky as blue as it is here in May and June. Against that clarity the newly leaved trees look incredibly green. I remember the first year I lived here I would hold leaves in my hand and marvel at the depth of color. Of course that was the year of marvels -- my first year as a mom. What wasn't amazing at that time? When the days start shortening, the vibrancy fades a bit, but the colors are still bright.

This winter I've spent a lot of time sitting tapping the keys of my computer at a counter-desk that looks out into our little backyard. Last summer we had it landscaped with trees, bushes, and mulch, plus my little vegetable garden. I've looked at the brown, dead-looking bushes concerned that they had seen the last of being green; that they wouldn't come back and our lives would remain dreary and faded.

The first signs of life were of course my bulbs poking through the dirt. The pansies I planted in the fall were grateful for their company and seemed to stand just a little taller in their presence. And in spite of 2 predicted blizzards and potentially flower smashing snows, they've been spared most of it. This past 24 hours of precipitation have been a blessing for my flower children (so far...I have my fingers crossed for tonight which could end up being cold enough for lasting snowfall).

My bulbs weren't my concern. Being underground kept them out of my sight, not a constant reminder of dormancy, of what could be, but isn't, even though they were just beneath the surface. What I saw all winter was the brownness of our bushes, the leaflessness of our trees. What I felt was the uncertainty that it would be okay come spring.

In the past couple of weeks or so there have been signs of reassurance. Greenness is spreading through our backyard. In a month or so there will be more colors, because I see the lilacs are starting to bud, the lavender is starting to unfurl. Soon I'll be planting my herb garden and the deck will be scented with rosemary and mint. There will be marigolds to protect my tomatoes and zinnias to just add a dash of color around the cucumber plants which will probably attempt a garden takeover again this year. Life will be weaving it's way all over out there.

No wonder Spring is such a relief!

Chocolate Chip cookies heal everything

Sometimes things don't happen as expected. Disappointments happen. A lot. It's easy to go with the flow when the flow is what you want it to be. I really admire those who can make lemonade when handed a bag of lemons. I, especially admired my kids, a couple of days ago when we went on our BIG, much hyped by us sledding trip.

Rocky Mountain National Park is pretty close to where we live. There is a sledding area at an old, no longer in use, ski area. We had never been there before, but hearing that it had been part of a ski area had given me a certain idea of what it would be like. Hand me the lemons. I had expected something a bit more bowl-like and well...bigger. There were no lifts there, but I cannot imagine that there could've been room for much. But the day we went the size was the least of our concerns.

While some of the moments were like this:


Most were like:


It's hard to really enjoy what you are doing when the wind is blowing in your face almost constantly. But in spite of being blown off their feet especially in the icy spots there was a lot of this:


Well 2 out of 3 isn't too bad, I guess:

This little boy was not into lemonade that day. Even the promise of hot chocolate and marshmallows wasn't enough to appease him. At that point, anyway.

What impressed me, however, was that the other two, in spite of the lousy conditions HAD FUN. They didn't complain. And we are a family who doesn't take disappointment quietly. We know how to feel our pain. But we're also learning how to choose happiness over disappointment and not let disappoinment win. At least some of the time. Even when you end up feet over head.

And once we'd handled as much of the wind as we could we enjoyed a picnic in our van before heading back home. By the time the chocolate chip cookies were handed out everyone was laughing...and thawed out.

Heavy Blanket

This was the kids a few days ago. Right before Spring Break. Oh yeah...they got two days extra for Spring Break due to the ...ummmm...blizzard (?) we had. It was awesome while it was snowing and I certainly understood why they got out of school on Thursday since it was expected to get worse during the day. But, Friday,...it was all done for us. I took the kids to a real sled hill for some boarding fun. I took pics, but on my phone and I haven't figured out the best way to transfer them to my computer. We also went on Saturday, and yes I forgot to take my camera that day, too. It wasn't as gorgeous since a lot of the snow was gone from the hill, but there were still some paths a boarder could take. There is still some hope I'll get some decent boarding pics since we're going up too Estes Park on Thursday in hopes of finding some good sledding snow.

Here are what my flowers look like after being blanketed by a heavy foot of snow. They are still trying to recover. My poor, poor babes. I know the pansies will have a long life over the summer, but those daffodils have just a short while to show their beauty.

I feel like this little flower. Maybe it was the unexpected start of Spring break when we have nothing planned. I just feel that achy weight in my belly that I need busy-ness to cover up. We had expected to have baseball all weekend. Canceled. Too much empty time to feel that weight. Even my runs haven't filled my belly with happiness. Nor the yoga. I'm too unsettled, too filled with an odd angst. In some ways I feel like I'm blindfolded and being spun and it's about time for me to pin the tail on the donkey, but I have no idea what way to go. Except it's no kids game.

On Saturday the N came into my room. I was feeling this angst so completely that I was taking my time going downstairs. This feeling is toxic and easily affects all who come near it. I tried to explain to the N that I was feeling a bit sad and was just taking some time to myself. He sat with me for a few moments while I scrolled through some online job ads. We weren't talking or anything, but my toxic glumness attached itself to him. It was like some alien movie. Just having him there was bringing some peace to me, but it was having the opposite reaction for him. It was like the toxin transferred itself to my baby. What really happened was that he has awareness of our problems and woes, and neither the R or I are very heroic at hiding our feelings. Seeing me sad just brought his awareness to the forefront. But it was just so odd the way it happened; how it seeped from me to him. We sat for a quiet few moments and moved away from it, that toxic slug, but it really emphasized for me how we need to be a bit more protective of our sensitive N.

Next year we're going somewhere for Spring break.

This is what I want to feel like. Ready to bloom. That's what I'm striving for.

DROP IT!

Last weekend the N played in his first competitive baseball tournament. Up until now he's always played in recreational leagues where things are quite a bit more casual. This year they are wearing spiffy, all matching uniforms, kids can typically throw the ball from one to another without it sailing over some one's head, there aren't many swings at balls pitched up above their heads, and if you hit a ball in the infield it will probably cause you to get out at 1st base. There are no more Lucy's in the outfield. These kids actually run to try to catch the ball.





Along with the increase in skill comes an increase in the intensity and the expectations of the parents, coaches, and kids. Which we were okay with. We definitely bought into it. Competitive teams typically cost much more than the rec leagues. But we wanted a chance for the N to play with other kids like him.

It was so disappointing last year when the N would pitch an awesome game, but once the pitchers had to be switched the next kid up would throw so wild that they would end up losing due to walked in runs. It was a good learning experience for the N; it's good to know you cannot control the outcome of everything and that you should really try your hardest anyway. But...it's also was less rewarding, too, and there wasn't a lot of improvement in his game that season. If this season plays out like this past weekend we'll see not only improvement in the N's game, but we'll be watching a lot of real baseball. Even last year I could see why people love to go watch baseball so much. It really got into our blood being outside, sitting in the grass, little siblings playing in adjacent fields, having the cows on the other side of the fence sauntering by.

In our family we also have soccer and flag football being played so there will be games that we don't all see. The M had soccer so the J, the M, and I missed the N's first game on Saturday. I guess we didn't miss the best the team had to offer. They started with the first of the two losses allowed for the tournament. We arrived towards the end of the 2nd game and missed the N pitch. We got that opportunity in the 3rd game. He was able to pitch most of the game and the team played well. That game was called early since the N's team was so far ahead. It seemed odd to me that the mercy rule could be used to help the team that would advance by allowing their pitchers to have extra innings for the next game. It's easy to be excited about a good baseball game when your team ends up winning.

Sunday was different, however. N's team would have to beat the team that didn't lose on Saturday two times to come in 1st. This other team came out playing a great game from the first pitch. These kids know baseball. The first two innings went okay for N's team. The other team only scored once. The 3rd inning was pretty ugly. N's team couldn't really get much in the way of hits, and the boy who took over the pitching from N had a rough time of it. N sat in the dugout icing his arm and drinking gatorade. He was doing okay. But in the next inning after a pitching change N's team woke up. They went in down by about 7. During this inning the other team was still able to hit a little, but didn't score. The transition in the game for me came when one of the boys on the other team batted a ball almost straight-up and our pitcher tried to catch it and from out in the bleachers I heard the deep voice of a dad, uncle, or grandpa, yelling


"DROP IT!"




What the ....?

After a couple of years hearing parents' nice voices saying "Good try" when the kid swings at a ball a foot above his head, I was a little stunned to hear a PARENT voice requesting a bad play from a child on the opposing team. I mean, really... cheer your kids on by all means, but to me it is bordering on bad sportsmanship to actually yell something disparaging to a kid on the other team. This is a 10U team, for crying out loud. I've only heard compliments tossed out...even to opposing players who make a great play. At that point the boy wasn't even close to catching the ball, and our team was down by quite a bit. I mean really,...I think that if our team had been so far ahead I would've been wanting the other pitcher to have that moment of glory, of actually catching the ball. They are just kids after all. Don't get me wrong. If it had been reversed and the game was on the line, and the other team had an error I would be glad for our kids if they could capitalize on it. But even then I'd feel bad for the kid who made the error.


After the "DROP IT" my voice got a lot louder and I cheered for every good thing our team did (and even now I'm still paying the price with a sore throat). N's team really made an incredible comeback effort and actually tied the game. And I have to admit feeling a little snotty when the other parents for the other team were yelling like we were as they recognized this wasn't going to be as easy as it had first appeared. I don't think I would have felt like that had it not been for Mr. "Drop-it".

Oh, the other team ended up winning, but it was close. They had that needed great hit when there was only one out left to go. And maybe I would've liked it if the boy had hit the ball directly to first base or not hit it at all, instead of hitting such a great hit. It just would never occur to me to hope for it or to actually do something like yell "MISS IT".


But along with the 2nd place plaques the N's team knew they had played a game to be proud of. All of the boys did, both teams. Both teams applauded each other as they got their plaques. That's what matters the most. In spite of the parents.

Marvelous Spring!

It's here!

It's that time!

Spring Colors!

I took these pictures yesterday to celebrate the 1st day of Spring AND just in case the rain/snow we may get on Monday ends up pummelling my delicate blooms. That seems like an annual tradition, doesn't it? Beautiful flower faces peek out then boom! That heavy spring snow plops right down on top of them. Either that or one of my boys accidently drops a ball on it. A couple of years ago I had planted crocuses and tulips at our house in MD. The N comes running in to tell me about our first purple crocus to bloom. When I went out a couple of minutes later, he and the crocus both looked crushed. He, very sorrowfully, told the tale of the crocus and the baseball, and the little boy who threw the baseball in the air...but didn't catch it. The marvel of nature is that next year, these dainty but tenacious flowers will be back again in spite of heavy spring snow and little boys. Pretty wise those flowers are.

Oh and the little boy? He does a bit better catching those baseballs now:

You wrote WHAT?

Usually this little box is a lot of fun for my kids.
We buy a new box of it every spring. They draw all sorts of things, pictures, mini baseball fields, tennis courts, but race tracks tend to be the most common creation. We haven't bought our new box yet, but we have a few stray pieces laying about in the garage, on the lawn, in the rocks.

Yesterday during a playdate with a little friend who's name starts with a J, but isn't the J (my J), another boy, Z, joined them. Now the other J used to live a couple houses down so he and Z know each other, but have never had what could be called an easy relationship. Actually I think they would say they hate each other just about 80% of the time you might ask them. In spite of this Z joined up with the J, the M, and the other J. Things must not have been going well because after awhile the J, the M, and the other J came into the house. There was not a guilty look between them. Z came over a few minutes later...with his mother. Now you know, that's just never a good sign when the mom comes over to have a word with you.

It turned out that the J, the M, and the other J have been doing pretty good in the 1st grade learning how to write and spell and all of that 1st grade stuff. So now...not only can they draw little pictures with chalk they can write nasty notes with it as well. I don't know how it started, it must have been my 4th child "it wasn't me" who I haven't talked about a lot, but who has quite a presence in our house. From the conversation with the Z and his mom I was able to get that some boys, the very boys who were in my house, had written some not very nice things about the Z. My focus at the time was on the general not being nice behavior, the saying mean things about someone, that sort of thing. I talked to my boys about how they can have more than one friend and that they can be nice to more than one kid at a time. I didn't know the specifics of what they wrote and instead focused on the boys playing nicely together. I wasn't sure exactly how to handle it since the other J was at our house until a designated time and I couldn't just send him home. As it turned out Z came in they had a snack and played together until it was time for the other J to go home. I had already decided that it would be awhile before the other J would be coming back and that they would be playing with other, less manipulative friends for awhile. He had already t-ed the R and I off the minute he walked in the door.

Later, I talked to them about what had happened, digging in just a little deeper, trying to help them realize that they had hurt a friend's feelings with their behavior and come to find out they actually wrote bad words describing Z. It was dark at the time, so it wasn't until this morning that we actually went out to see what was written. It was clearly written, their teacher would've been impressed with their penmanship, although I don't know what most of it said. There was a lot of Z is ... It was quite clearly however, not nice stuff. And jackass was amongst the words chosen. It doesn't look pretty in pretty colors either. I never was able to get clear who wrote what, but it didn't matter so much...because my 2 participants are grounded for awhile. One confessed to writing a bad word that he couldn't remember. The other remembered writing Z's name. They both said the other J wrote the jackass part. They both looked pretty chagrined while cleaning it up this morning.

Now as parents both the R and I have had problems with both Z and the other J. Z is totally into guns and playing Halo (remember he's in 1st grade). We've stopped our kids from going to his house because they played Halo and Call of Duty 4 on the x-box. Both games we explicitely forbid them to play. The M in particular was drawn to Z when he moved in because he loved, loved, loved his Star Wars lightsaber and clone trooper guns. We don't forbid playing guns outright, but we try to redirect them after a while. So I think some of our feelings about the games has affected the boys feelings towards the Z. That and the fact that he doesn't seem to play many other games. If it's not x-box Halo it's pretend Halo. While I'm okay with Star Wars pretend games, I'm not fine with the Halo stuff. It may be a thin line I'm drawing since both are steeped in violence, but the Star Wars stuff is very much pretend. So that's my line and I'm sticking to it.

Now the other J is a different story. It's not that he plays games we don't like, he is just very bossy and demanding at times. It was likely his influence that spawned the writing spree outside. He had a glinty expression while I was talking to him. And I'm all too familiar with all of the difficulties he has in school with his classmates, teacher, and all. I know from other moms that he was known among a lot of kids as the "bad" J (there were 2 kids in their class with the same J name). Like I said earlier something he said upon entering the house had already gotten my hackles up. In my mind I may have been thinking something like jackass .

I suppose all parents see their kids in a different light. I know that both Z's parents and the other J's parents think the other kid is totally the problem. We, the R and I, definitely know our kids behaved like jerks, jackasses even. We also realize that they are 6 and still learning the skills of juggling their feelings, conflicts with friends, and how to be in the middle when 2 friends don't get along. But I didn't ground them for their behavior until I realized that they had deliberately used words they know they aren't to use, and against someone who friend or not, deserving or not, was hurt by it. My initial plan was going to be one of avoidance...different playdates for awhile.

I know how I want my kids to behave: The language thing is obvious. I really don't want them to be thinking jackass. Jerk should be plenty powerful for a 6 year old. That goes for my 10 year old as well. And probably should for their mother, too.

It's the friendship thing that is less clear. I want them to know that they don't have to be best friends with everyone, but they should be polite about it; they shouldn't expect to always be the rule setters, but they can also walk away from a game they don't want to play. Politely. They can play with Z if they want to, but they don't have to play only the games he wants to. And the fact that the other J doesn' t like Z shouldn't affect their own opinions. And just because I don't like Z's gun games and their chosen x-box games doesn't mean he's a bad kid, even though he does at times behave like a jackass. It's hard for them to get all of these shades of gray. Wait until they realize the world isn't just black, white, or gray, but all of those colors in the crayon box. Life choices will be even tougher then.

Half-Time Chill

I've never been very good at leaving things half done. Especially if it's a problem I'm trying to solve (unless it's a people problem...then I'd rather just bury my head in the sand and hope it fades away, but that's a different topic).

Last week I was building a new web page using a tool. I'm building a site for a friend, for the experience (in other words I'm not getting paid!). I was staring at the paths to images and files the tool created and it just wasn't right. The other pages had been fine, but this one just looked odd. I fussed, and I mean fussed, for a couple of hours trying to figure out what I'd changed and where I'd changed it. I didn't want to save the file because I didn't want to save something that was wrong. Well...as it turned out the tool doesn't set the path names until you do save the file. Well...duh. There's a couple of hours of my life I'd like back, please.

I wouldn't really consider this too big of a problem since that sort of thing happens. Sorting through problems requires false steps. But, this happened right during the time I prepare dinner...for my family. The people who I should've been paying some attention to at that point, but who I was steadfastly ignoring as I groaned into my hands wondering what in the heck was going on. I was making dinner, but while things were cooking I was staring at my computer, hacking at the keys, and moaning, "What happened? What did I do?" interwoven with "Honey, mommy is trying to fix something. I'll read with you (spell with you, listen to you) later." Bug off. No, I really didn't say that!

I was this way when I was working too. My focus could be intense especially if I felt the pressure of impending deadlines. My tenacity made me a good problem solver, but it also made me difficult to work with. Sometimes I was too wrapped up in the solving and not as into the niceties as I should've been.

My husband has no problem with getting up and walking away from a problem and coming back to it later. He also had no problem advising me to do the same, which I, of course, ignore. Otherwise I might end up getting testy. If I were to get up and walk away from the problem I wouldn't really be able to get away from it. It would be haunting me at some level. And I'd probably still be testy. With an unsolved problem waiting for me.

I do wonder about how this will all play out if I end up working from home. And really with the ease with which you can take your work home with you on your laptop, I'm not sure how well I'm going to do with being a working mom. I'm an okay worker. I'm an okay mom. But putting them together? I'm not sure how well I'll be able to balance the two. I'm by nature high-strung without much of a reason to be. I've always needed serious downtime to unwind. Long hikes after work did the job. I didn't have kids to get home for, though. I worry that being a working mom will put me into high anxiety mode on a constant basis. I know that it's a matter of balance. Things have to be given up. Trade-offs have to be made. And it needs to be done. Just how. Just when. Those things I do not know. And that's probably been just about as stressful as it will be once it all goes into play. And maybe that's the answer. If I can give up the underlying stress of worrying about the future and just deal with the stress of actually living it maybe it will balance out stress for stress. I can hope can't I?