We love our cats. Truly. But then you roll over at 4:30 and realize you’ve been sleeping in cat vomit. And then you are just starting to drift off when you hear the delightful sound of your other cat hacking up a hairball all over the bedroom floor. And then it is 6:30 and from the monitor, a little voice chirps, “is it morning? Can I get up?”
Happy Sunday! At least we had cinnamon rolls. And we needed to do laundry anyway.
I know better than to depend on the Internet for parenting advice or solace, but I came across a few articles and posts this week that were truly wonderful.
First: this post about “that kid” from the teacher’s perspective. Lots of hugs: http://missnightmutters.com/2014/11/dear-parent-about-that-kid.html
And this post from a mother wanting to protect her daughter’s spirit while the world seems intent on crushing it: http://www.schmutzie.com/weblog/outside-voice-the-pain-of-wanting-to-protect-my-daughter
Next: kindergarteners, standardized tests and developmental readiness. It really makes me rethink what I want out of early-education: http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet/wp/2014/02/06/a-really-scary-headline-about-kindergarteners/
And for fellow boy moms, this post on what this mother has learned parenting boys. All true in my experience as well! http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/parenting/wp/2014/11/12/5-things-i-learned-about-raising-boys-so-far/
And saving my least favorite for last, this lady is pretty certain we’re parenting small children incorrectly and is out to school us: http://www.salon.com/2014/11/11/10_things_parents_should_never_say_to_their_toddlers_partner/
What is the best or worst thing you read this week?
Just a random collection of thoughts and experiences this week:
How was your week?
Today Daniel, recently intrigued by numbers and addition, asked my why I was 37.
Of course the initial answer is, “because.” I don’t know why I am 37, but I assume it’s because I was born in 1977 & 2014 minus 1977 equals 37.
37. I don’t think I managed to post anything around my birthday in early September. Age 37 puts me firmly in that late 30s/approaching 40 demographic.
In a society rapidly shifting from focusing on Baby Boomers to catering to Millennials, it is easy to feel both irrelevant and old, yet young too. Sometimes it shocks me to be 37. OLD. And then I think about how I would not have been eligible to be president until 2 years ago, so clearly age equals wisdom and experience, at least in theory.
The gray in my hair is increasing. I note every one and hope they aren’t too visible. I work with a lot of young things now, which is a change since for a long time, I was the youngest by decades at work (poor Gen X!). Sometimes I feel matronly and invisible: should someone my age worry about how she looks, dresses and is perceived? Which is silly, because I’m 37!
At the same time, I think 37 suits me better than my 20s ever did. At work, I have a weight now and I find people are more inclined to listen to me. I feel more confident and able to say what I think (within reason). It’s actually expected of me. In some of the meetings I attend, I am still one of the youngest. I also know what I do and do not want out of life as well as what is reasonably possible. Jimmy and I are talking about and planning for paying off the house and retiring in our 50s because we do NOT want to have to work. Fun topics!
Do men feel this way about age? Or do they consider themselves in their late 30s as just beginning to be seasoned, with their best years still ahead? While women start to think of themselves as old and/or unattractive on many fronts.
Maybe it’s the approaching end of my theoretical childbearing years that is influencing my mindset. Not that they hadn’t been over for me for years already (always?) but from a biological perspective, 37 is not young, nubile and fertile. And we still have those 5 frozen embryos that haunt me.
37. So old, yet so young.
I didn’t get a post in on Monday. I had a post planned and it was going to be a simple one, but I didn’t get it in. First time in 4 years of participating in NaBloPoMo that I didn’t make it. I don’t even have a good reason other than it didn’t happen.
Oh well.
Complete placeholder post. I’ve been taking care of poor Jimmy and his thumb & I was thrilled to wake up with a bad headache today. May we all feel better tomorrow.
Being of a certain age, I listen to Lithium and the 90s channel (as well as the 80s channel) on Sirius XM every day. Daniel prefers the 80s station (good boy), but I am partial to the music of MY generation, the 90s 😉 Yesterday, after I dropped him off, Naughty By Nature’s “OPP” came on the 90s channel. Ooofff.
First of all, I think everyone I knew in junior high (as it was called in my day) understood the song’s topic: infidelity. Yep, understood that at age 13. However, thanks to my participation on Twitter and overall increased awareness, I think of that song on an entirely different level now.
You’d think it would be the tacit infidelity that bothered me – and it does – but it isn’t the main irritant now. Now, I bristle at the perception of women. The lines:
That wasn’t the thing it must have been the way she hit the ceiling
‘Cos after that she kept on coming back and catchin’ feelings
Oh, man. That line, that shit bothers me now in a way it never did at age 13. Really? You are saying you are soooo awesome in bed that she forgets all of her morals and wants to hit it all the time? Isn’t that impressive. And unbelievable.
The truth is that you aren’t all that. No one is all that. And hearing such an overtly sexist line pisses me off. I’m not naive; I know many, many songs from a variety of genres contain similar lines. And I know the line is the equivalent of guys bragging in the locker room, a bonding tactic. But it rankles this feminist because I know on some level, it reflects their beliefs about women. And I am trying hard to raise a son who isn’t like that in a difficult, challenging world.
I want to say more, but the truth is that my husband sliced a good bit off of his thumb tonight (slicing low-carb zucchini pasta for me) and journeyed to urgent care, leaving me to hold down the fort. This feminist is worried about her man and also keeping an ear out for her little boy who is slowly slumbering. It’s been a long day. Long week.
Ugh.
What song has been ruined for you in adulthood?
I am thrilled to announce that Marty and I will be producing the 2015 season and third season of Listen to Your Mother: Raleigh-Durham. Now that we are in our third year, I feel like true veterans. And I cannot wait to see what submissions we receive and how the show takes shape. We are more curators than producers.
I’m not a trite person, but truly, participating in Listen to Your Mother has changed my life. It has given me a long-desired theater outlet. It has enabled me to meet wonderful people. It has allowed for amazing stories to be told, and I am so proud of helping those stories find a platform. This year, nationally, we have 39 cities participating!
A few days ago, The Atlantic published this story on the psychology of storytelling. I could not agree more. If you are in the Triangle area or, hell, in NC, please consider submitting an essay. If you live in a different state, please consider submitting an essay to those productions. I had one friend participate in a different city last year, and I was so proud. But I know you all have wonderful stories to share. Please consider sharing them. Email me if you have questions.
Sooooooo proud to again co-produce the show for 2015!!!!
Jimmy and I briefly looked at the calendar for November and December tonight, and I started thinking about when we would take vacation, what we were doing for Thanksgiving, what we were doing for Christmas Day, when we’d celebrate with other family members, etc.
We aren’t hosting Thanksgiving this year. I kind of enjoy hosting and having a big meal. We’ll still make our meal a few days later, but this year it is leaving me a bit hollow. When I looked at Christmas – not as far away as we might like – everything seemed so complicated. We are trying to make our own traditions plus celebrate with both sides of the families plus not travel on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. And we’ll have Jimmy’s family Christmas a few days later when his brother and his family come to town. But everything feels so small, which is the sad truth as our family is becoming smaller due to age.
I sighed as I contemplated the calendar and the various occasions. It’s my own hang up. As an only child, I grew up with small events, often feeling apart, longing for some huge family celebration. I want the Currier and Ives holiday.
And that is my problem. I’ve wanted the huge family holiday that has been presented to us in advertising, but I know the reality is far more complicated. The rational part of me understands that while my heart feels…a bit sad and lonely…at our holidays.
I’m sure I’ll feel differently once we get into the sturm and drang of the holidays (pizza on Christmas Eve last year? Yes, no shame!), but tonight, this moment, I feel a wee bit sad. I love our family of three, but sometimes, we feel so small.
Family Building With a Twist 