Thursday, December 15, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Oh Utah, the Honeymoon is Over
Stats for this week:
Number of attempted new friendships: 5
Number of rejections to invitations: 5
Number of activities attended alone: 2
Number of days it was too cold to go outside: all of them
Terrific.
Number of attempted new friendships: 5
Number of rejections to invitations: 5
Number of activities attended alone: 2
Number of days it was too cold to go outside: all of them
Terrific.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Why I Blog
As world 2.0 evolves and we head into what we may perhaps label 3.0 social interaction online, I had a unique opportunity to appreciate what blogging has done for me.
I have been blogging now for close to 8 years (remember the xanga days?) and I maintained this blog pretty faithfully for the last 5. My blog has meant many things to me starting with a place for private social interaction among other cynics who were there to essentially mock one another and any newcomers too, to its most recent public iteration with caution regarding anything potentially mean-spirited. It has meant a place to learn about my friends, to cohabitate online with people who I wish I lived near in real life. It has served as a reunion to help me connect with those who I used to know and wish to know again and sometimes a place to meet new interesting people to fill in the crevices of my friendships with interesting and diverse mortar.
But as 3.0 existence may push out my own blog in favor of those that are specialized and provide valuable resources to like-minded people, I discover that the real value of my blog lay in secret, a latent purpose waiting for a need and point in time: a record of my life. I discovered this when a co-worker asked me about my work at the charter school in California, you know the one where I spent all of my waking hours in Santa Barbara? And I was able to piece together the journey using my blog. I walked down memory lane as I pondered the timeline:
I have been blogging now for close to 8 years (remember the xanga days?) and I maintained this blog pretty faithfully for the last 5. My blog has meant many things to me starting with a place for private social interaction among other cynics who were there to essentially mock one another and any newcomers too, to its most recent public iteration with caution regarding anything potentially mean-spirited. It has meant a place to learn about my friends, to cohabitate online with people who I wish I lived near in real life. It has served as a reunion to help me connect with those who I used to know and wish to know again and sometimes a place to meet new interesting people to fill in the crevices of my friendships with interesting and diverse mortar.
But as 3.0 existence may push out my own blog in favor of those that are specialized and provide valuable resources to like-minded people, I discover that the real value of my blog lay in secret, a latent purpose waiting for a need and point in time: a record of my life. I discovered this when a co-worker asked me about my work at the charter school in California, you know the one where I spent all of my waking hours in Santa Barbara? And I was able to piece together the journey using my blog. I walked down memory lane as I pondered the timeline:
My first post and explanation
One of my angry moments before they let us speak up
Newspaper article midpoint
I hate the superintendent (not anymore)
Our heartwarming activist moment (article is linked to blog)
Wait I still do hate this guy!! Nevermind. Here is the video where he they show us and then him. I have a cute haircut and way better skin, I think I need to move back to California.
The stay of execution (we won! Wait, what did we win?)
My lamentations of public information laws
My better-late-than-never resignation
The final newspaper article which is kind of my swan song, has disappeared. School was saved, got a 3 year charter, blah blah blah.
And I realized how lucky I was to have this blog. The memory of that great work has already faded from my mind and I only remember the tragedy and heartache. But if you look at some of those moments in time, I got to be part of a real movement, a local movement, a community-led fight against the man and the system. Who would I be today without this experience? And the record of it is all here in this neat little web application. And there are other strands, years of halloween costumes, Catholic cigar box tributes to my deceased relatives, art shows, farewell parties, travels coast-to-coast, and my disheveled first day of school photos. I have recorded the life and love I experienced over the years and my only wish is that I had blogged the first 30 years of my life to go back and verify my charmed existence in html.
If you don't blog, I sure hope you keep a journal because, well... how sweet it is to be reminded of the gifts of our years.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
As My Children Age...
...life gets more complicated.
When your children are very small, you put on their clothes, they don't tell you they don't like the outfit, and you put them in the car. They don't ask who is going to be there, if there are children of the same age, or if they are going to be traveling on a Sunday. They just go.
And sure they cry, sure they don't sleep, they might even have an explosive diaper situation. But they don't tell you "hey you are ruining my life by dragging me around."
Enter adolescence.
My children now insist on picking their own clothing. Don't you think this dress is delightful?
Wouldn't it be cute to see your girls dressed together in this dress?
Well too bad for you. Because they want this one:
Do they care that it is unflattering? Do they care that it is more expensive? Do they? Huh?
No. They do not.
And there are other things they care about now like dinner. Food they have eaten for years and loved they suddenly are suspicious of, like many other things that their parents do.
They want to stay up late.
They want to argue a point for the sake of their point (like their father).
They watch the debates and have an opinion. Nothing of consequence, it might be about an outfit or a funny word that someone says but still it is an opinion in the making.
They stop me every 15 seconds while we are reading a book aloud together and want to make a commentary.
They want to tell each other what to do even when I don't care (things like "mom told you to put that cup back on the counter, do it!!" or "why are you reading such a stupid book? you should read something better." ) Really? Really? Aren't two parents enough? Aren't my rules stringent enough, you are now making new stupid rules?
In short, my children have become people.
And living with more people is always more complicated.
But lest you think this post is a complaint, let me reassure you that there are some side benefits to this.
My children now feed themselves. They even occasionally help me while I make food for them. It has even become a phenomenon for one of my children to look up a recipe, make a dish, and share with others unprompted.
When Steve and I want to go to the movies, we can assign them simple tasks like "keep the house clean and we will pay you an extra dollar."
They defend me against their siblings who may be trying to break my will.
They bring in groceries, do chores, and can once in while, volunteer to help. Once in a long while.
While I may despise their taste in clothing, each of my children is developing their own sense of style and I am starting to see that they are actually better at dressing themselves than I am.
But the single greatest change that has occurred in the chaos of this aging, hormonal, frustrating phase is that I finally feel like I was meant to be a mother.
Some of you out there may like the babies, and I will admit there is a certain yumminess in our house gone forever. But after the dust of infancy and toddlerhood begins to clear, I look at my offspring and I think to myself that it was a truly worthy investment for the joy I will experience for the rest of my life.
When your children are very small, you put on their clothes, they don't tell you they don't like the outfit, and you put them in the car. They don't ask who is going to be there, if there are children of the same age, or if they are going to be traveling on a Sunday. They just go.
And sure they cry, sure they don't sleep, they might even have an explosive diaper situation. But they don't tell you "hey you are ruining my life by dragging me around."
Enter adolescence.
My children now insist on picking their own clothing. Don't you think this dress is delightful?
Wouldn't it be cute to see your girls dressed together in this dress?
Well too bad for you. Because they want this one:
Do they care that it is unflattering? Do they care that it is more expensive? Do they? Huh?
No. They do not.
And there are other things they care about now like dinner. Food they have eaten for years and loved they suddenly are suspicious of, like many other things that their parents do.
They want to stay up late.
They want to argue a point for the sake of their point (like their father).
They watch the debates and have an opinion. Nothing of consequence, it might be about an outfit or a funny word that someone says but still it is an opinion in the making.
They stop me every 15 seconds while we are reading a book aloud together and want to make a commentary.
They want to tell each other what to do even when I don't care (things like "mom told you to put that cup back on the counter, do it!!" or "why are you reading such a stupid book? you should read something better." ) Really? Really? Aren't two parents enough? Aren't my rules stringent enough, you are now making new stupid rules?
In short, my children have become people.
And living with more people is always more complicated.
But lest you think this post is a complaint, let me reassure you that there are some side benefits to this.
My children now feed themselves. They even occasionally help me while I make food for them. It has even become a phenomenon for one of my children to look up a recipe, make a dish, and share with others unprompted.
When Steve and I want to go to the movies, we can assign them simple tasks like "keep the house clean and we will pay you an extra dollar."
They defend me against their siblings who may be trying to break my will.
They bring in groceries, do chores, and can once in while, volunteer to help. Once in a long while.
While I may despise their taste in clothing, each of my children is developing their own sense of style and I am starting to see that they are actually better at dressing themselves than I am.
But the single greatest change that has occurred in the chaos of this aging, hormonal, frustrating phase is that I finally feel like I was meant to be a mother.
Some of you out there may like the babies, and I will admit there is a certain yumminess in our house gone forever. But after the dust of infancy and toddlerhood begins to clear, I look at my offspring and I think to myself that it was a truly worthy investment for the joy I will experience for the rest of my life.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
In Preparation for Gratitude
In general, I feel like I am a person who feels thankful for things. I am not always positive, optimistic and happy but in general I do feel like I have some predisposition towards gratitude.
I have heard that it is a good practice to periodically pray JUST in gratitude instead of always asking--for me, that is my default prayer. I remember to pray when I am thankful more than when I need things (this is related to an area I do struggle with, humility).
I think one explanation for my particular penchant towards the proverbial thank you is that I have been surrounded my entire life by amazing people. I know that all my personal strengths, gifts, and confidence come from a charmed life.
This year I can only say, if you are reading this blog, I am thankful for you. I hope that you have a phenomenal Thanksgiving and please, for the love of all that is holy, do not eat canned cranberry sauce.
I have heard that it is a good practice to periodically pray JUST in gratitude instead of always asking--for me, that is my default prayer. I remember to pray when I am thankful more than when I need things (this is related to an area I do struggle with, humility).
I think one explanation for my particular penchant towards the proverbial thank you is that I have been surrounded my entire life by amazing people. I know that all my personal strengths, gifts, and confidence come from a charmed life.
This year I can only say, if you are reading this blog, I am thankful for you. I hope that you have a phenomenal Thanksgiving and please, for the love of all that is holy, do not eat canned cranberry sauce.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
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