Judgment Day

This is an email I wrote recently to a friend during an ongoing conversation about judgment and classism, spurred on most recently by a blog post at http://Robgwrites.wordpress.com (hey, spell check doesn't recognize classism...it 'should'...or maybe I spelled it wrong!):

We are talking about the same thing and on the same side, believe it or not. I was raised not to judge people based on the very things you're talking about, and my father was the anti-bigot, made sure we didn't pass judgment. So I was almost afraid to say I didn't like someone (for some real reason, like they were leering at me lustily with dishonorable intention) for fear it would be misinterpreted as racism, or whatever.

As I said, I was raised blue collar by a beer drinking, whiskey swilling, smoking, womanizing father (I can't say anything about my mom, she's got her issues, but nothing that applies to this conversation) who was funny, fun, and loved by almost everyone he met. He raised me to be confident and proud of myself, no matter what I did with my life.

I was the first grandchild on my father's side of the family to graduate high school, and didn't take college courses until I was about 30. I married a man who, ten years into the marriage, told me he knew from the very beginning that his parents wouldn't like me, because in their eyes I
wasn't good enough for him. His parents never asked me anything about me or my family, didn't care to know.

And yet, because I was married to a Naval officer, I was often pointedly (I mean in my face, in a checkout line) sneered at because of it (as if I thought somehow I was better because of who I married...I never gave a shit that he was an officer, didn't even know they were different than enlisted until I met him, and my dad was Navy for 20 years!) I felt defensive, and wanted to wear a sign that said, "You don't know me or where I come from, so don't judge me!" One night at a ball (full dress, long gowns) I was drinking a beer (out of a bottle) and I overheard another wife whisper, "Someone should get her a glass." As if!

Contrast this with the folks back home in Norfolk (looked down upon in general by many in Virginia, and I defend it like it were my own child), who at one point implied that I thought I was too good for them, simply because I left home and went out into the world and saw and did things. When I came back years later, they realized I was basically the same person, but still.

I have struggled all my life not to care about the fact that I didn't have a college eduation, or that my degree, when I did get one, is 'only' an AA in Japanese Studies and nothing more lofty. It encroaches into my dating life, when I find myself figuring I'm not good enough for someone because they are more educated or hold a 'better' job.

...we're all just human and we make judgments (like it or not) based on our life experiences. I've got folks who live near me right now who are considered redneck or even white trash, and my daughter is friends with one of the kids there. I have no issue with these folks in general, but when the one guy w/the souped up car starts squealing up and down Naomi Drive (and not just once, but for 30 minutes at a time) to the point where I can't sit on my patio and hear the person directly across from me when we're talking, well, I get a little pissed off...more at the lack of
consideration for other folks than anything. I try to base my judgment on how folks treat me and how they treat others.

This is Your Brain on Hormones

Tuesday I got a call from the dentist's office confirming Rebecca's appointment. Yes, I said, we'll be there. Now, I already had this appointment on my calendar (because I am organized and way ahead of the game.) But just to be sure, I open my Groupwise calendar to Wednesday, but it's not there (stay w/me.) So, I enter the appointment for 3, and tell Rebecca when she calls me that I'll be picking her up right after she gets of the bus the next day to get to the appointment on time. Then, being ever efficient, I email my co-workers and tell them I'll be leaving early on Thursday (seriously, stay w/me) to take Rebecca to her appointment.

So, yesterday, at about 2:30, I remember I'm leaving at 3. I leave here and arrive home just after Rebecca. I am proud of myself for the good timing. We even stop to give the lab across the street treats and check the mail.

On the way to N. Stafford going north on Route 1, I see a school bus stopped on the opposite side. I slow down, trying to remember if I am supposed to stop on a four lane highway when headed in the opposite direction. A few blasts on the bus's horn tell me, yes, I am supposed to stop, but at this point I'm abreast of the bus and drive on, muffler tucked between my tires. Then we encounter dark clouds and the subsequent large drops of rain. Wipers are now going full on fast.

We arrive at the dentist and I am able to secure 'princess parking.' We dash to the door...but it's locked. What?! Wait, maybe they moved, I mean, the last time we were here they had experienced major flooding from burst pipes. But why didn't Mary mention this when she called me on Tuesday...? I have my phone out, it's ringing, we're still standing in the rain. Mary's voice thanks me for calling Dr. Rai's office, and tells me their office hours. Closed on Wednesdays. I look at Rebecca: Crap, the appointment is tomorrow.

Okay, regroup (I'm good at this part): traffic was looking bad going south, so I suggest we head to Kohl's, do a little shopping (she for unmentionables, me for a new purse...another entire adventure in and of itself.)

Fast forward. We've just spent $80 or so on Rebecca, and nothing on me (me and purses, it's ridiculous) and are walking out the door. Can't find my keys. This is nothing new. I look again, no keys. I'm certain I've left them in the dressing room (no, I don't try on my purses, at least not in the dressing room, but I did try on a couple of...oh, never mind, it's irrelevant and was a disaster.) Anyhow, no keys there either. A bit of panic at this point; Rebecca asks if she can check my purse, and I let her because this has worked in the past. No luck. So now, we're retracing our steps through rows of panties, bras, camisoles, purses, and belts. Looking high and low, and wishing ever so much Rebecca was a toddler again so that she could have that optimal vantage point. Nothing. No keys. I tell everyone I see in the aisles that we're looking for keys. They all respond with the same knowing nod and sympathetic gaze.

We go out to the car...maybe in our haste to dash through the rain...but no; the car is unlocked, and I'm able to retrieve my cell phone, but no keys. So now we're going back in to look again amongst the lace and leather. We overhear a conversation at one of the checkout counters...someone has lost some keys. Ridiculous, I think. A couple is standing there looking befuddled -- they have been looking for over an hour for a set of keys. What are the odds? We wish each other luck, and go our separate ways in our searches.

After no luck again, we go back to customer service. No keys have been turned in; I give a description of my nondescript keys and my cell number. We head back to the car to look again for what I know is not there. Halfway to the car, I hear a woman calling, "I found your keys! You must have been using the cart I have, they were in the bottom!" She was oh so proud, and had abandoned her cart at the checkout counter to run after us. "Oh, thank you so much, but those aren't our keys...but I think I know whose they are." Crestfallen, she hands me the keys. I thank her again, saying the couple will be so relieved and I will turn them in. She walks back in with us, and I thank her yet again. I feel so bad that I've disappointed her.

As we arrive at customer service, I see the couple and hold up the keys. Oh, they are so happy! They thank me and thank me. I've done nothing, really. Then she tells me in a lilting Carribean accent, "I pray for you to find your keys too!" We smile and say goodbye, united by our recent loss and her more recent reunion.

Finally, I cave and call my friend, my hero, Lois. She has a key to the house. No problem, I'll just come pick you up, I'm on Route 3 now. Well, I say, I'm in N. Stafford. Oh... So, Lois heads to my house, I walk her through the possible places where the spare keys might be, and soon she shows up, my spare keys in hand, and saves our day.

This is my brain on hormones. Today, at 3 p.m., I will leave work and go pick up Rebecca after she gets off the bus, and we will head to her dentist appointment. Pray for me.

Back to 'Normal'

Been a busy couple of weeks. First we had a friend and her two cats staying with us while her kitchen was being renovated. Then my mom came into town, so the friend went to stay with another friend, but the cats hung out at my house (mom liked that...) Mom and I had a great visit, I was able to take off of work and we took a few days to drive a part of the Crooked Road and visit Floyd, VA for music, food, and scenery. Had a few more days off here in town, mostly relaxed, had a fun mother/daughter night at Bistro Bethem, and mom got to meet and see a lot of my friends and get a taste of my life in the 'burg (which she knows I love.) During this time Rebecca was away with her dad, which went well and she had a good time, visiting museums, Longwood Gardens in PA, and attending The Lion King in NYC.

Took mom to the airport in Richmond yesterday...she got home safely, after an annoying delay in Atlanta (this is no surprise to anyone who has traveled through Atlanta!) Had a nice drive back on Route 2, listening to Prairie Home Companion and some great music by Tom Rush...wow. I'll be checking out his new CD.

So now, everything is settling in back to our normal routine. I am so glad to have Rebecca home; I am so glad mom and I had a good visit (she's great, I am very lucky); and I am so glad Rebecca and her dad had a good vacation together. Life is good right now. Have allowed myself to spend some quality time getting to know new friends and, in spite of the insecurities and self-doubt that crop up, am enjoying myself. Key to this is taking things easy and allowing the friendships to evolve naturally. No pressure, no hurry. Just glad I'm finally at this stage where I can let people in a little closer.

Writing When I'm Not Unhappy

A friend told me recently I need to blog more. Trouble is, my writing is not very interesting when I'm free of troubled thoughts. At least, I don't think it's very interesting. I am not troubled right now, although I am a little jangled of late. Spring is here, and there's twitterpating all around me. Reason enough to write, I suppose. For those who don't know, twitterpated is (one of many definitions from the urban dictionary, but it originated from Bambi):

"An enjoyable disorder characterized by feelings of excitement, anticipation, high hopes, recent memories of interludes, giddiness, and physical over-stimulation which occur simultaneously when experiencing a new love. These feelings take over without warning, usually at odd times (such as at a check-out line), with or without the partner present, and make it difficult to concentrate on anything but romance. They interfere with work and safe driving, but should be experienced at least once in every person's lifetime."

Indeed, at least once in every person's lifetime. I think the definition should include something about this feeling being at once exhilarating and unnerving and just a little scary.

So, give me your stories about your twitterpating experiences. Could make for some fun writing and entertaining reading. You can remain anonymous, it's okay!

Me? Well, it's too soon to say for me. But obviously this is on my mind for a reason. Cautious and superstitious right now. But my twitterpating experiences in the past (and the very few recent ones) tell me it's a feeling I like, and at the same time causes me to ponder what is left when the twitterpating subsides. That is the real stuff, of course, but the twitterpating stage is awfully fun, so I'm inclined to give in to it again, if given the chance.

There. My April blog post. I look forward to hearing feedback on this tittilating topic (or should that be twitterpating topic?!)

Snow Days

So, I know that there are folks in Florida who might love to see a good snow like we've just experienced here in Central Virginia (well, at least my sister would...) but I have to say, I'm over it. I haven't been able to get out and really exercise, and this happens to be spring break week at UMW, which means the fitness center is on limited hours (e.g., they close at 6, and I can't make that work). After the initial beautiful-ness of it all, I'd like it to go away. Now we're dealing with half melted piles of dirty, grimy snow and the accompanying sand and salt laden roads and parking lots, and tracking all that into my car and home. Ugh! I like a good old Virginia snow, where we get a decent amount that allows for a few hours of snow play, and within 24 hours it's sunny and 50 and the snow is gone!

I did get out and enjoy the snow, went for two walks, one by the river, and took some nice photos. It was beautiful.

Add the yucky conditions outside to the sinus infection inside my head, and this means little to no running training for me. Time to hit the non-homeopathic solution and get some antibiotics for this, as the constant aching, congestion, and lethargy are really getting to me.

Come on spring, I am so ready for you!

Money and Running

Two topics of prevalence in my life lately. Running, because I am trying. I have worked myself up to three walk/runs per week, and cross training in between (anything from Wii Fit to the gym at UMW.) It's going well. And by 'well' I mean I have not collapsed, fallen, or injured myself. And I am trying to push myself a little further each time. I have been helped along the way by patient friends who are willing to go out with me, pushing me a little further, and supporting me when I just can't (or won't...) I have a weight loss goal and I have a goal to hopefully one day be able to go out and run three miles as a part of my maintenance program. Beyond this, I am not putting any pressure on myself. So, it's going well. (Did I mention I am very sore?)

Money: they say it isn't the answer to everything, and I know that's true, but a little more can always help. So, I took steps to refinance my mortgage and got a really great deal with 'my' mortgage company. I am very happy. This allows me to pay down some debt (and I don't have a lot of debt; I usually pay everything off monthly, which is great but also the reason I'm often cash poor at the end of the month.) Anyhow, I can pay down on my car payment and a loan from my mother, plus get some much needed things done at my townhouse. This makes me happy. So no, money isn't the answer to everything, but it sure does help at times.

Things are going reasonably well with DD. She too seems to sense that things are getting better, she's gotten into a better rhythm at school and is looking forward to high school. We still need to deal with keeping her occupied this summer, but I'm confident we'll figure that out.

I feel like the sun is coming out, I'm getting my head above water, the fog is lifting. Or maybe it's just the fact that spring is coming. Yeah, that could be it, but whatever the reason, things are looking up.

May it be so.

The Mask of Motherhood

I never wanted to BE a parent. Seriously. I know that sounds awful, especially for those who want/wanted children and have not been able to. And I understand that heartache, too. When the decision was made, it took two years to conceive Rebecca; when we later decided to expand on that joy, I suffered three miscarriages over four years. That heartache is awful. But the truth of the matter is, I did not want to have children. My ex and I had heartfelt conversations about it; I felt there was too much to overcome, he felt it was our duty as responsible and reasonably intelligent adults to procreate.

I remember being in my late 20s, maybe early 30s, asking my mom, "So how do you know what to do as a parent, does it just come to you?" Bless her heart, she didn't burst out laughing at my naivete'. In fact, she looked at me with a kind of blankness and said, "No, you just do the best you can with what you know." (To her credit, this was much better advice than 'the talk': "Don't do anything stupid!")

Well, I am doing the best with what I know. And I'm realizing I don't know much. And it's so interesting when you confide your concerns to others, and they give you this knowing, over-simplified advice based on THEIR experience, and you think, "Damn, am I the only one that feels like her head is full of oatmeal when it comes to this crap?!"

So, my DD and I are treading ever closer to that place where we are moving apart. She feels like all I do is nag and criticize (not true, but there IS a lot to nag about...) and I feel like she has filled her ears with cotton and is starting to do the nod and "yes mommy" without really comprehending my appeals to her better nature.

And she is a great kid, and I am a lucky mom: she tells me she loves me and/or that I am the best mom ever several times a day, and I do believe she means it. And she makes eye contact with adults, and speaks to them respectfully, and shows an interest in things most teens could really give a flip about. And her teachers have very good things to say about her. And she handles her father's inadequacies with more maturity than he displays.

And yet, as I'm sitting in the living room, watching her walk through to the kitchen, I found myself thinking, "What the hell am I doing, being a parent? What ever made me think I was 'prepared' for this, or that I could bring a child to adulthood successfully? Who the F*#! is this woman-child that I'm struggling to 'help' on her journey? I still don't know who I am!!"

And in case you're wondering, I took no license with that previous paragraph, I really did think that, and it hit me upside my head kind of like one of those noise sticks they have at ball games...it didn't hurt, but it sure did get my attention.

Doing the best that I can, and feeling inadequate almost every step of the way. I doubt I'm alone in these feelings. But I think many of us wear the 'mask of motherhood' -- I refer to a collection of essays written by many mothers, with their unmasked, honest feelings and thoughts about being a mother, by that title. I need to read that again, if for no other reason than to feel a connectedness to my sisters who took off the mask long enough to confront their doubts and fears and share them with us. Check it out some time. And do the best that you can with what you know!

http://www.amazon.com/Mask-Motherhood-Becoming-Mother-Changes/dp/0140291784