So James is in Utah getting his analysis on. I'm glad he's got good momentum and so happy that he can spend some time with friends and family and really I've been gone the last 4 days out of 10 (which will look more like 15 out of 28 by the time the month is over), so I'm for the most part content. But of course I miss my husband. I know that people do this long term, and I guess we *could*, but I think this month is instilling the importance of not spending a month ever again if we can avoid it. He's so nice, is the thing. And fun to hang around. And do things with.
But despite the downer, this weekend has been pretty nice:
Friday I heard both Lando's heartbeat and his foot, I think, kicking at the dopler wand (it sounded like dropping/bumping a microphone. And like this little man has excellent aim). I got to eat Noodles with Amanda and commiserate about some things and lounge in companionable co-busy-ness.
Saturday I bought books at a yard sale and weeded our little garden (and got bitten by mosquitoes and did *not* get poison ivy after all). I spent some time on Pinterest (not so much that I wanted to puke) and used up some kale and oven roasted some corn.
The highlight of today was movie day w/my primary kids. I brought popcorn and mini bottles of root beer (which apparently is the very most direct way into a kids' heart) and got hugs and cheers. Sweet potato, thank you notes, laundry.
Tomorrow I leave for Phoenix where I will meet my long-lost husband (woot) and do some work things.
And that is the end. :)
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
August hardly exists at all
I flew in from Utah last night. I spent almost a week there and it was enough hard to come back that I just tried not to think about it. You should know that a) when I looked out the window in Wyoming somewhere and started to notice the ground crinkling into foothills, I got misty-eyed, b) my family is incredible: supportive and stylish and funny and kind and lovely, c) James and I ate at Beto's twice, Cafe Rio, my mom's house, JDawg, Station 22, and Slab and though we missed a couple of places, this mostly hit the spot, d) friends are the right answer. Always.
I like it there. I like knowing where to go to find the right gift and the best coke and the cheapest gas. I know it's only a matter of time before any place gets familiar like that, but I miss that here. I like the mountains (James and I spent our anniversary evening in a hammock hanging in aspens in a meadow under the moon) and I miss being so close, always, to wilderness and silence and solitude.
Babies. I felt Lando kicking tonight. I've felt him rustle around before this, but tonight it was like he was trying to get my attention: Hey there. Hey. Hey. I'm awake! Are you awake!? I learned today that work is going to be less flexible about post-Lando life than I'd hoped. And I'm so disappointed. I shouldn't be. It's not personal (it's business...). It just feels so silly. And sort of demeaning (it's really less expensive to recruit, hire, and train, and take a chance on a newbie than letting me switch my responsibilities around?). We'll make it work, and it will be ok (this isn't placating--James is in a good spot, we'll be just fine, I feel hopeful and blessed), but I was suddenly 13 again and my mom was travelling all the time and that, I realized in a really visceral way, was the choice: have an income and good insurance to take care of your kids in exchange for not spending very much time with your kids. A much more emotional discussion at work than I'd anticipated.
And it brought me back to: do people think that work is more important than family for real? I know the arguments about finding fulfillment outside the home, nurturing your strengths, being true to yourself, etc, and I'll back down a little, because this is a personal thing and I don't mean to be dismissive or prescriptive, but for me, even when I was doing something I was good at and loved, I would much much rather be hanging out with my family and friends than working. I find 100% more fulfillment, in the deepest parts of me, nurturing my relationships than in anything I've done for a job. For me, all things being equal (in a way that hardly ever happens in real life), home and family is the right answer. And right at this moment it seems silly to pretend like it's not. And I almost feel silly about spending so much time and energy on something that gives so little back (you know, food and shelter and the value of a hard day's work notwithstanding).
Loves,
keb
I like it there. I like knowing where to go to find the right gift and the best coke and the cheapest gas. I know it's only a matter of time before any place gets familiar like that, but I miss that here. I like the mountains (James and I spent our anniversary evening in a hammock hanging in aspens in a meadow under the moon) and I miss being so close, always, to wilderness and silence and solitude.
Babies. I felt Lando kicking tonight. I've felt him rustle around before this, but tonight it was like he was trying to get my attention: Hey there. Hey. Hey. I'm awake! Are you awake!? I learned today that work is going to be less flexible about post-Lando life than I'd hoped. And I'm so disappointed. I shouldn't be. It's not personal (it's business...). It just feels so silly. And sort of demeaning (it's really less expensive to recruit, hire, and train, and take a chance on a newbie than letting me switch my responsibilities around?). We'll make it work, and it will be ok (this isn't placating--James is in a good spot, we'll be just fine, I feel hopeful and blessed), but I was suddenly 13 again and my mom was travelling all the time and that, I realized in a really visceral way, was the choice: have an income and good insurance to take care of your kids in exchange for not spending very much time with your kids. A much more emotional discussion at work than I'd anticipated.
And it brought me back to: do people think that work is more important than family for real? I know the arguments about finding fulfillment outside the home, nurturing your strengths, being true to yourself, etc, and I'll back down a little, because this is a personal thing and I don't mean to be dismissive or prescriptive, but for me, even when I was doing something I was good at and loved, I would much much rather be hanging out with my family and friends than working. I find 100% more fulfillment, in the deepest parts of me, nurturing my relationships than in anything I've done for a job. For me, all things being equal (in a way that hardly ever happens in real life), home and family is the right answer. And right at this moment it seems silly to pretend like it's not. And I almost feel silly about spending so much time and energy on something that gives so little back (you know, food and shelter and the value of a hard day's work notwithstanding).
Loves,
keb
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