Maybe I need to revert to pithier posts. I see that I am a tad long winded. Perhaps shorter would be better.
There. Short and sweet. But kind of unfulfilling.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Calm Personified
One week into the new year and I am steeped in calm. This is an almost overwhelmingly new feeling for me. It's been building for some time. I have remained relatively unflappable in the face of a very difficult work year. Perhaps flappability can only be aimed in one direction at a time and my life with my children without my husband had me 'flapped' in the last 16 months. The chaos on the personal side brought a new and welcome objectivity and serenity to my approach to work. Who has room in their heart and brain for chaos all around? Which doesn't mean I didn't care. I care. I care a lot. But I could look challenge square in the eye, weigh the pros and cons of various approaches and decide. I could tackle contentious professional relationships with the maturity of... well, of a recently divorced mother of two who knows what really matters.
So as my personal life has calmed - the hurt hurts less, the sting of failure transforms into the hope of a new opportunity for happiness, the guilt diffuses and is replaced with the knowing that every stone was turned in this particular marriage and the loneliness subsides and is taken over by sheer gratitude to be able to hear one's own thoughts (for more on this read Dominique Brownings great piece in the NYT today called Alone Again, Naturally... far better put than I could put it myself) - the work calm Jen has infused the real life Jen's approach. (Boy that was too long of a sentence. My apologies.) What I'm saying is this. My life blew up. I handled work with aplomb. What choice did I have, really? I got seriously objective and calm in the face of any storm while I waged the stormy waters at home. And now, I have brought that learned calm to my personal life. Whew. I should have started there.
Finding a lovely, fun, funny, charming and caring man to share dinners, days at the beach (however freezing a Northern California beach may be), movies and conversation with doesn't hurt. I truly had no idea the peaceful ballast that a relationship can actually provide. We are only three months in. We've had minor hiccups. But they were hiccups that could have been major belches that perhaps led to vomiting if not handled with tenderness. An example: he felt uncomfortable that I was reluctant to share our burgeoning relationship with my kids just yet. I understood his discomfort. But that discomfort was not enough for me to violate my own. In the past, I would have put my discomfort aside. I would have done what made HIM comfortable. Which is fine sometimes. But not all the time. It can only lead to resentment long term. It was important for me to be strong in my assertions: Not Now. I am not ready. This was tough for me. But I did it. I shared that we were simply going to each have to be Ok with the fact that we were both a bit uncomfortable right now. And keep going. He accepted that.
I also explained my growing concern that there was an ultimatum waiting for me around every dark corner. This was particularly difficult for me to say. It sounds mean. I don't want to be mean. I assumed the response would be anger. A snap back. Defensiveness. Nope. Here's what I got: That must feel awful. I don't want you to feel that way. Huh? Who are you and what have you done with your manly need to strike back with equal parts venom? Not that I was spewing venom, but I'm accustomed to being perceived as a nasty venom spewer. And I've been one at times, no doubt.
This response was a clincher for me. We had a rocky conversation. We both heard each other. We both stayed very calm despite not necessarily getting the answers that made us each more comfortable. And we agreed - at my request - to not talk about the state of the relationship for a bit. Rather to just have it. We agreed on 6 weeks which we've not really adhered to. But the mere act of taking the foot off of that gas pedal has actually, somehow, magically, accelerated the relationship car. Terrible analogy. I apologize. Boy I'm a mess today with the linguistic stylings.
Point here is he adds to the peace and calm I feel. He doesn't create chaos on the home front. We're not the same in all ways. We're not the same in a lot of ways. He's a science-y, computer-y, bird watching self-avowed nerd that likes living in the woods and who prays several times a day. He has three sweet, intelligent kids who all seem a bit younger than their years. He's expressive and warm and friendly and likes to laugh. I'm a city girl, with a big shoe collection and two potty mouthed children with sensitive hearts, crazy hair and big giant brains. I am not so great at math, am useless on a computer or with anything IT-y but I am a writer, reader and lover of words and a seriously ambitious driver in my corporate work life. And I am ok with those things. Now. (I was incredibly ashamed of my competitiveness and ambition for a very long time.) It doesn't work because we are the same. It works - in these very early days - because we appreciate the other's differences, want to learn about the things the other is interested in, admire rather than fault certain defining characteristics. If we can maintain that, we might be on to something.
I know better than anyone I'm in no position to call this yet. I was married for 12 years, with him for 17 and was truly deeply in love. It's important to me not to revise history in this regard. It isn't that, in hindsight, I didn't love him. I did. But we had foibles that clashed in a dangerous manner for both of us. And the damage we were doing to each other's psyches was overflowing into our home which had two kids in it. And we made the right choice to end our marriage before more damage was done. I never would have thought that this is what would've happened when I walked down the aisle with him and looked up (way up...he's 6'8") into his eyes at the altar. I was filled with absolute certainty. I had no hesitation on that day. And here I am. See what I knew? Nothing.
I am hyper cognizant now that all I can do is enjoy the day, be kind in the moment, appreciate kindnesses offered back to me. And not predict the future. And I am oh so appreciative of the calm. I won't give it up for anything.
So as my personal life has calmed - the hurt hurts less, the sting of failure transforms into the hope of a new opportunity for happiness, the guilt diffuses and is replaced with the knowing that every stone was turned in this particular marriage and the loneliness subsides and is taken over by sheer gratitude to be able to hear one's own thoughts (for more on this read Dominique Brownings great piece in the NYT today called Alone Again, Naturally... far better put than I could put it myself) - the work calm Jen has infused the real life Jen's approach. (Boy that was too long of a sentence. My apologies.) What I'm saying is this. My life blew up. I handled work with aplomb. What choice did I have, really? I got seriously objective and calm in the face of any storm while I waged the stormy waters at home. And now, I have brought that learned calm to my personal life. Whew. I should have started there.
Finding a lovely, fun, funny, charming and caring man to share dinners, days at the beach (however freezing a Northern California beach may be), movies and conversation with doesn't hurt. I truly had no idea the peaceful ballast that a relationship can actually provide. We are only three months in. We've had minor hiccups. But they were hiccups that could have been major belches that perhaps led to vomiting if not handled with tenderness. An example: he felt uncomfortable that I was reluctant to share our burgeoning relationship with my kids just yet. I understood his discomfort. But that discomfort was not enough for me to violate my own. In the past, I would have put my discomfort aside. I would have done what made HIM comfortable. Which is fine sometimes. But not all the time. It can only lead to resentment long term. It was important for me to be strong in my assertions: Not Now. I am not ready. This was tough for me. But I did it. I shared that we were simply going to each have to be Ok with the fact that we were both a bit uncomfortable right now. And keep going. He accepted that.
I also explained my growing concern that there was an ultimatum waiting for me around every dark corner. This was particularly difficult for me to say. It sounds mean. I don't want to be mean. I assumed the response would be anger. A snap back. Defensiveness. Nope. Here's what I got: That must feel awful. I don't want you to feel that way. Huh? Who are you and what have you done with your manly need to strike back with equal parts venom? Not that I was spewing venom, but I'm accustomed to being perceived as a nasty venom spewer. And I've been one at times, no doubt.
This response was a clincher for me. We had a rocky conversation. We both heard each other. We both stayed very calm despite not necessarily getting the answers that made us each more comfortable. And we agreed - at my request - to not talk about the state of the relationship for a bit. Rather to just have it. We agreed on 6 weeks which we've not really adhered to. But the mere act of taking the foot off of that gas pedal has actually, somehow, magically, accelerated the relationship car. Terrible analogy. I apologize. Boy I'm a mess today with the linguistic stylings.
Point here is he adds to the peace and calm I feel. He doesn't create chaos on the home front. We're not the same in all ways. We're not the same in a lot of ways. He's a science-y, computer-y, bird watching self-avowed nerd that likes living in the woods and who prays several times a day. He has three sweet, intelligent kids who all seem a bit younger than their years. He's expressive and warm and friendly and likes to laugh. I'm a city girl, with a big shoe collection and two potty mouthed children with sensitive hearts, crazy hair and big giant brains. I am not so great at math, am useless on a computer or with anything IT-y but I am a writer, reader and lover of words and a seriously ambitious driver in my corporate work life. And I am ok with those things. Now. (I was incredibly ashamed of my competitiveness and ambition for a very long time.) It doesn't work because we are the same. It works - in these very early days - because we appreciate the other's differences, want to learn about the things the other is interested in, admire rather than fault certain defining characteristics. If we can maintain that, we might be on to something.
I know better than anyone I'm in no position to call this yet. I was married for 12 years, with him for 17 and was truly deeply in love. It's important to me not to revise history in this regard. It isn't that, in hindsight, I didn't love him. I did. But we had foibles that clashed in a dangerous manner for both of us. And the damage we were doing to each other's psyches was overflowing into our home which had two kids in it. And we made the right choice to end our marriage before more damage was done. I never would have thought that this is what would've happened when I walked down the aisle with him and looked up (way up...he's 6'8") into his eyes at the altar. I was filled with absolute certainty. I had no hesitation on that day. And here I am. See what I knew? Nothing.
I am hyper cognizant now that all I can do is enjoy the day, be kind in the moment, appreciate kindnesses offered back to me. And not predict the future. And I am oh so appreciative of the calm. I won't give it up for anything.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
A New Year's Day NOT hungover!
I am starting this year filled with gratitude. A change for me! I am waking up NOT hungover from a raucous New Year's Eve. With my beautiful, handsome, smart and clever children asleep in their rooms. I will take them to their father's later today and that will be ok. I won't freak out or panic or cry. I will drive my butt down to Los Gatos and spend the rest of the day with Steven and his 3 children. And all will be good.
I spent the evening last night at my friend Shannon's, welcoming in the New Year east coast time (9PST) with a roomful of children under the age of 10, grown up strangers (other than Shannon and her husband D), my kids and Steven. Lovely. There was dancing and poppers. The fun party kind that make loud noises not the gay sex kind (which is the kind of party I might have been attending in my younger years).
I came home at 10pm, kissed Steven good bye so he could ring in the actual PST new year with his kids and watched the ball drop with my boys. What could be better?
New Year's resolutions will begin tomorrow. There will be gym joining, a Weight Watchers sign up (just 5-10 pounds please?), some outlining of a book idea. Oh I'll be busy. And I can't wait.
Thank you to all my friends who were oh so patient with me this past year as I waded through the muck of my life. "Grief has it's own rate of decay" as I read in today's Modern Love column in the NYT and despite my best efforts to beat mine back with a stick, it was persistent in rearing it's head during unexpected moments. I'm sure there is more to come. But I am steady. And accepting that grief is part of it all. Well, until it knocks me on my ass again. Then I'm sure I'll have something less thoughtful to say about it.
Mostly thanks to my most awesome of boys. They are still and will forever be the best wild-haired, wild-eyed, knife wielding boys a mom and dad could ever ask for. And the very best party guests to ring in a new year filled with peace and hope and all good things. Love you guys all the much.
I spent the evening last night at my friend Shannon's, welcoming in the New Year east coast time (9PST) with a roomful of children under the age of 10, grown up strangers (other than Shannon and her husband D), my kids and Steven. Lovely. There was dancing and poppers. The fun party kind that make loud noises not the gay sex kind (which is the kind of party I might have been attending in my younger years).
I came home at 10pm, kissed Steven good bye so he could ring in the actual PST new year with his kids and watched the ball drop with my boys. What could be better?
New Year's resolutions will begin tomorrow. There will be gym joining, a Weight Watchers sign up (just 5-10 pounds please?), some outlining of a book idea. Oh I'll be busy. And I can't wait.
Thank you to all my friends who were oh so patient with me this past year as I waded through the muck of my life. "Grief has it's own rate of decay" as I read in today's Modern Love column in the NYT and despite my best efforts to beat mine back with a stick, it was persistent in rearing it's head during unexpected moments. I'm sure there is more to come. But I am steady. And accepting that grief is part of it all. Well, until it knocks me on my ass again. Then I'm sure I'll have something less thoughtful to say about it.
Mostly thanks to my most awesome of boys. They are still and will forever be the best wild-haired, wild-eyed, knife wielding boys a mom and dad could ever ask for. And the very best party guests to ring in a new year filled with peace and hope and all good things. Love you guys all the much.
Friday, December 30, 2011
New Year's Reflections... of course
Yes it's that time of year when we reflect back and look ahead, hoping to amend some of our less productive ways. So I'm looking back. In doing so, I found this photo...
This is me and my friend Doe. It was 1998, New Year's Eve. I took something of the chemical variety, most certainly. Though I probably generally looked that happy. I was unmarried but madly in love. I had a good job that I liked enough. I had great friends, Doe included. I was not a parent but that would change very soon. Sooner than planned. I was unencumbered, young (29, if I've estimated the year on this pic correctly), hotter than I realized (I should've realized!) and having the time of my life in San Francisco. I remember dancing that night to Prince's "1999" though at the moment I'm a little fuzzy about whether or not we were welcoming '99 or seeing it go. Nonetheless I love this picture. And I love my friend Doe.
2011 was a big year for me and Doe. She came forward and spoke to the press about her abusive coach. As an incredibly private person, I can't imagine how hard this was for her. Boy am I proud of her. And I think she's finding some peace for the first time in a very long time. I'm proud of myself too on this one. I almost took that bit out of my book about a gazillion times. But I thought: if you want to take it out, it's the part that most has to stay in. It's the part that will ruffle feathers, sure. Which is why you're having second thoughts. But it's true. Leave it. And I did. With Doe's blessing. And now more than 3 years later, it's all come out in the wash. Peters is banned from the sport. He's ousted from the Hall of Fame. And Doe and I are still friends. Best of...
What else? As I look back, I've waded through a lot this year. Last New Year's Eve I'd been on my own less than 4 months. I had friends over to celebrate and I cried most of the time. Quite the hostess I was. I've had more than a few bouts of crying over the last 12 months. Usually brought on by one too many glasses of pinot noir. And an armful of girlfriends to listen to me bawl - "But why didn't he ....[insert choice of phrase here: love me more, try harder, want to have another baby with me...blah blah blah waah waah waah"].
But they - the crying jags - petered out around April or May. I still had my fits of weepiness often brought on by a date. A bad one (is this what's in store?) or a good one (it's officially over, the marriage that is). But then I kind of got my footing sometime this summer. Me and the kids had our "summer of adventure". We went water skiing, fishing, zip lining and so much more. And I started to appreciate the quiet. And by quiet I mean the quiet in my mind. The hardest thing now is welcoming someone new into my life. I associate being with someone with criticism and an unquiet mind. I have to open myself up to the idea that there can be peace in togetherness. Not gay Steve is helping with that. (More on gay Steve coming next.)
I'm calmer now. At work, in life, in parenting. My kids are great. Thriving, in fact. Everyone who interacts with Wyatt these days says: What happened to Wyatt? He's a different boy! So talkative and outgoing. Yup. He's come out of his shell. The kid's got great parents.
I've tried some new things this year. Internet dating. Never thought I'd do that. I joined the board of a non-profit close to my heart, Safe4Athletes. And I can say Doe brought me to them, both literally and in a more figurative sense. I stopped exercising (ok have to fix that ... part of the 'look ahead' bit coming next). I connected with old friends (Lisa, Jessica and a host of other ex-gymnasts) and let new ones in. I realized that formerly work-friend Steve (gay Steve) is friend-for-life-friend Steve. As he told me earlier this year, "We are part of each other's stories now." Yes we are.
I didn't write as much as I would like to be able to say I had. But I used this blog as a means of not panicking, as I said I would at it's inception (thanks KFarr, for telling me to start it for that very reason). I pissed some people off with things I wrote that were stupid and unthoughtful, divulging information that wasn't mine to share. I apologized profusely and with all sincerity and profundity. I learned to express myself in real life (not writing) just a little bit better. That one is still a bit tough for me, I'll admit. I got a new boss. Which seems to be going well. And I built a new home for myself.
Looking ahead... ahhhh. How to do this without coming up with stuff that I will not do and then disappoint myself in the process? Keep it simple. I will exercise. No marathons. Just move the bod a few days a week. I will drink less of that pinot. I'm not not drinking. No way. But less. And I'll write for real. Not signing up to finish a book. But I'll commit myself to trying. That'll do it. Look out 2012. A new calm Jen will take a walk every once in a while, not get drunk every Saturday and scribble a few lines of something' somethin'. Wow, the world won't know what to do with itself.
This is me and my friend Doe. It was 1998, New Year's Eve. I took something of the chemical variety, most certainly. Though I probably generally looked that happy. I was unmarried but madly in love. I had a good job that I liked enough. I had great friends, Doe included. I was not a parent but that would change very soon. Sooner than planned. I was unencumbered, young (29, if I've estimated the year on this pic correctly), hotter than I realized (I should've realized!) and having the time of my life in San Francisco. I remember dancing that night to Prince's "1999" though at the moment I'm a little fuzzy about whether or not we were welcoming '99 or seeing it go. Nonetheless I love this picture. And I love my friend Doe.
2011 was a big year for me and Doe. She came forward and spoke to the press about her abusive coach. As an incredibly private person, I can't imagine how hard this was for her. Boy am I proud of her. And I think she's finding some peace for the first time in a very long time. I'm proud of myself too on this one. I almost took that bit out of my book about a gazillion times. But I thought: if you want to take it out, it's the part that most has to stay in. It's the part that will ruffle feathers, sure. Which is why you're having second thoughts. But it's true. Leave it. And I did. With Doe's blessing. And now more than 3 years later, it's all come out in the wash. Peters is banned from the sport. He's ousted from the Hall of Fame. And Doe and I are still friends. Best of...
What else? As I look back, I've waded through a lot this year. Last New Year's Eve I'd been on my own less than 4 months. I had friends over to celebrate and I cried most of the time. Quite the hostess I was. I've had more than a few bouts of crying over the last 12 months. Usually brought on by one too many glasses of pinot noir. And an armful of girlfriends to listen to me bawl - "But why didn't he ....[insert choice of phrase here: love me more, try harder, want to have another baby with me...blah blah blah waah waah waah"].
But they - the crying jags - petered out around April or May. I still had my fits of weepiness often brought on by a date. A bad one (is this what's in store?) or a good one (it's officially over, the marriage that is). But then I kind of got my footing sometime this summer. Me and the kids had our "summer of adventure". We went water skiing, fishing, zip lining and so much more. And I started to appreciate the quiet. And by quiet I mean the quiet in my mind. The hardest thing now is welcoming someone new into my life. I associate being with someone with criticism and an unquiet mind. I have to open myself up to the idea that there can be peace in togetherness. Not gay Steve is helping with that. (More on gay Steve coming next.)
I'm calmer now. At work, in life, in parenting. My kids are great. Thriving, in fact. Everyone who interacts with Wyatt these days says: What happened to Wyatt? He's a different boy! So talkative and outgoing. Yup. He's come out of his shell. The kid's got great parents.
I've tried some new things this year. Internet dating. Never thought I'd do that. I joined the board of a non-profit close to my heart, Safe4Athletes. And I can say Doe brought me to them, both literally and in a more figurative sense. I stopped exercising (ok have to fix that ... part of the 'look ahead' bit coming next). I connected with old friends (Lisa, Jessica and a host of other ex-gymnasts) and let new ones in. I realized that formerly work-friend Steve (gay Steve) is friend-for-life-friend Steve. As he told me earlier this year, "We are part of each other's stories now." Yes we are.
I didn't write as much as I would like to be able to say I had. But I used this blog as a means of not panicking, as I said I would at it's inception (thanks KFarr, for telling me to start it for that very reason). I pissed some people off with things I wrote that were stupid and unthoughtful, divulging information that wasn't mine to share. I apologized profusely and with all sincerity and profundity. I learned to express myself in real life (not writing) just a little bit better. That one is still a bit tough for me, I'll admit. I got a new boss. Which seems to be going well. And I built a new home for myself.
Looking ahead... ahhhh. How to do this without coming up with stuff that I will not do and then disappoint myself in the process? Keep it simple. I will exercise. No marathons. Just move the bod a few days a week. I will drink less of that pinot. I'm not not drinking. No way. But less. And I'll write for real. Not signing up to finish a book. But I'll commit myself to trying. That'll do it. Look out 2012. A new calm Jen will take a walk every once in a while, not get drunk every Saturday and scribble a few lines of something' somethin'. Wow, the world won't know what to do with itself.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Happy Holiday
I had a very different kind of holiday this year. Trying to make some sense of it all in my tiny mind. Felt more appreciation, gratitude and peace than I have in a very long time. And yet it was tinged with a bit of sadness. Maybe melancholy would be a more apt word.
It was the first year in my life as a parent that I spent Christmas without my kids. Yes I'm a Jew. But a non-practicing one. I spent my childhood with a Christmas tree, presents on Christmas morning, chocolate croissants for breakfast and a festive family meal - turkey or lasagna, never ham - in the early evening. We didn't go to church. But we certainly celebrated Christmas.
I love celebrating. I love holidays. Birthdays. All of it. I love taking the moment to be with family, to practice gratitude. I love giving gifts and the feeling of generosity that pervades these moments. Not generosity in giving 'stuff'. Generosity of kindness. Yes it can be carried throughout the year. But we forget. And each year during the holidays, or maybe during a birthday - your spouse, your mom, your best friend - we remember to tell each other not just THAT we love each other, but why. I love this.
This holiday my kids were with my ex-husband. And I was ok. I wasn't even sad. I spent the days prior with my boyfriend. I want a better word for what he is. But we'll use that one for now. The feeling of gratitude I felt waking up Christmas morning with him - even though my kids weren't there bouncing in my room, yelling at me to wake up "It's Christmas!!!" - was astonishing. I've never been one to lounge around. I'm up and at 'em all the way. But I feel, with him, that I can sit. And be. Is it age? Is it him? Is it wisdom? Am I just tired? Who knows.
He left to spend the rest of the day with his mom and dad (not in a Christmasy way, he is a practicing Jew) and I spent it with my brother and nephews. We had a very regular day. And that made it all the lovelier. We made cookies. We went to the park. Hit tennis balls. Ate Chinese food. And lit the Hanukkah candles. Then I came home and my boys transitioned to me. We lit the candles (again, they wanted to) and exchanged gifts. It was quiet. And perfect.
This morning we opened the rest of our gifts, tried out the new baseball bat at the park. Went to a movie and had Hanukkah dinner at my brother's. Again we lit the candles. This ritual has never been important to me. Has never really been a part of my life. But now, with two people in my life that it matters to - my sister in law (we've done it the last few years together) and Steven (better than "boyfriend") - I can replicate it and find the peace in it. In ritual.
I will spend the week with my kids. And New Year's Eve. My brother and his family will move to LA a few days after that. This is what brings the melancholy this holiday season. They have been my solace, my fun, my comfort, my family this year. No way I'd have gotten through without going crazy if they hadn't been here. I love that the boys play together like brothers, none of the artifice of friends or cousins. They fight. They say they don't like each other sometimes. And then they take care of each other. I don't want them to lose that.
I don't want to lose that.
But I can handle it now. I'm on my feet. I have someone that looks after me. That I can look after. I will visit. I will have a new niece or nephew soon. I will miss them all. The patient and abiding friendship of my sister in law (she's smart, funny, wise and tolerates my neediness with her husband). Harry, my oldest nephew, spending the night. Ike, my youngest nephew, falling asleep on the couch with me. And of course, Chris. C-bro. The bestest little brother a girl could have. Thanks for hanging my television, hooking up my internet, making it so I didn't completely fall apart when I moved out almost a year and half ago and my whole family blew up. What can I say to thank a guy for that? I got your back. Whatever you need.
xo
It was the first year in my life as a parent that I spent Christmas without my kids. Yes I'm a Jew. But a non-practicing one. I spent my childhood with a Christmas tree, presents on Christmas morning, chocolate croissants for breakfast and a festive family meal - turkey or lasagna, never ham - in the early evening. We didn't go to church. But we certainly celebrated Christmas.
I love celebrating. I love holidays. Birthdays. All of it. I love taking the moment to be with family, to practice gratitude. I love giving gifts and the feeling of generosity that pervades these moments. Not generosity in giving 'stuff'. Generosity of kindness. Yes it can be carried throughout the year. But we forget. And each year during the holidays, or maybe during a birthday - your spouse, your mom, your best friend - we remember to tell each other not just THAT we love each other, but why. I love this.
This holiday my kids were with my ex-husband. And I was ok. I wasn't even sad. I spent the days prior with my boyfriend. I want a better word for what he is. But we'll use that one for now. The feeling of gratitude I felt waking up Christmas morning with him - even though my kids weren't there bouncing in my room, yelling at me to wake up "It's Christmas!!!" - was astonishing. I've never been one to lounge around. I'm up and at 'em all the way. But I feel, with him, that I can sit. And be. Is it age? Is it him? Is it wisdom? Am I just tired? Who knows.
He left to spend the rest of the day with his mom and dad (not in a Christmasy way, he is a practicing Jew) and I spent it with my brother and nephews. We had a very regular day. And that made it all the lovelier. We made cookies. We went to the park. Hit tennis balls. Ate Chinese food. And lit the Hanukkah candles. Then I came home and my boys transitioned to me. We lit the candles (again, they wanted to) and exchanged gifts. It was quiet. And perfect.
This morning we opened the rest of our gifts, tried out the new baseball bat at the park. Went to a movie and had Hanukkah dinner at my brother's. Again we lit the candles. This ritual has never been important to me. Has never really been a part of my life. But now, with two people in my life that it matters to - my sister in law (we've done it the last few years together) and Steven (better than "boyfriend") - I can replicate it and find the peace in it. In ritual.
I will spend the week with my kids. And New Year's Eve. My brother and his family will move to LA a few days after that. This is what brings the melancholy this holiday season. They have been my solace, my fun, my comfort, my family this year. No way I'd have gotten through without going crazy if they hadn't been here. I love that the boys play together like brothers, none of the artifice of friends or cousins. They fight. They say they don't like each other sometimes. And then they take care of each other. I don't want them to lose that.
I don't want to lose that.
But I can handle it now. I'm on my feet. I have someone that looks after me. That I can look after. I will visit. I will have a new niece or nephew soon. I will miss them all. The patient and abiding friendship of my sister in law (she's smart, funny, wise and tolerates my neediness with her husband). Harry, my oldest nephew, spending the night. Ike, my youngest nephew, falling asleep on the couch with me. And of course, Chris. C-bro. The bestest little brother a girl could have. Thanks for hanging my television, hooking up my internet, making it so I didn't completely fall apart when I moved out almost a year and half ago and my whole family blew up. What can I say to thank a guy for that? I got your back. Whatever you need.
xo
Monday, December 12, 2011
A Break from Brooding
I've been accused, on more than one occasion, by more than one person, of only writing when I'm angsty. Of only writing about hard, yucky feelings. Of not ever writing about happy stuff. It's true. Writing about happy just doesn't seem that interesting to me. When I'm happy I just enjoy it, I don't overanalyze it. Wouldn't that kind of take the happy out of it? It's like dissecting why something is funny (I'll admit I do this sometimes). Philosophizing and strategizing about funny is utterly un-fun. And un-funny. I kind of feel the same way about happy.
I'm not saying I'm right. I'm just saying that this is how I operate. I can see the folly in this. If you can assess WHY you feel happy, maybe you can sustain it? I see that. I do. And yet, I'd rather just enjoy it. Further, I don't mind all that much being a bit angst-ridden. It's part of life. It provides contrast. It's where insight comes from. I accept it as a necessary part of a contemplative life, of self-awareness.
To be clear, I often write when I'm content but generally I flash back to some difficulty on the road to getting there. This is where I find revelation, enlightenment. A sense of possibility and an appreciation for the journey.
But just so that I can prove my 'critics' wrong, I'm going to attempt to write about the things that make me happy at the moment:
1. I love my independence. I live my life the way I want to, hopefully without being too self-involved. Just the right amount though. I don't feel guilty about having a nice apartment that I love. I don't feel guilty about having a practical but relatively nice (not excessively so) car. I don't feel guilty about pretty shoes, therapy or trips with my children. And yes, I used to. I have found a semblance of peace with my own likes and dislikes. I don't feel like my choices are somehow wrong. Inherently. I love this! It brings me such contentment to exist in this lovely peaceful apartment without clutter or mustiness. And I love having a garage. Ahhhh, the simple things. (I realize the irony of how I iterated my happiness over this point - in the negative, the negation of guilt. Old habits die hard. Give a girl a break on this.)
2. I have such fun with my kids. They are getting older. I'm permissive when it comes to media. We laugh our faces off watching Jackass over and over again. We saw #3 three times at the theater. It's gross. We love it. When Steve-O does the outhouse stunt, the combination of danger, poop, vomit and uncontrollable laughter on the part of the Jackass crew causes us to nearly 1) vomit with them; 2) pee our pants. I love laughing with them. My oldest and I also read the same books sometimes. He recommended The Hunger Games. I read it and we talked about it. He gave away made up plot points, misdirecting me but increasing the urgency with which I inhaled the book. Funny kid. He got me.
3. I am helping to make progress in regards to the protection of athletes. I'm proud that my book instigated this in some way. I'm happy to be part of the community trying to create change on this. I love the strong women I have met in this process. And I am so proud of them all.
4. I have a boyfriend, a wonderfully lovely man who is kind and chivalrous and emotionally expressive. Who makes me coffee in the morning and forgives easily. Who listens to my feelings (when I dare express them) and thinks I'm funny. That's good stuff.
5. I have a great job and I work with great people. Yes it's hard sometimes. There's pressure and politics and pettiness at times. But all in all I work for a company that does good in the world, has a strong corporate conscience, respects consumers and delivers great products that last a lifetime for a great price. That ain't bad.
Ok that's five. I don't want to push it. Five happy thoughts all in one day. Ok one more for good measure - I love salty snacks. I could wax poetic about potato chips, pretzels, fried potatoes of any kind and a delicious margarita with an overly salted rim on a hot summer night. But I won't. I love salt in all forms and I indulge regularly. Yum.
There ... happy Jen in a nutshell. Next post - back to my wheelhouse. Dark and brooding. This is deemed "a don't panic log" after all...
I'm not saying I'm right. I'm just saying that this is how I operate. I can see the folly in this. If you can assess WHY you feel happy, maybe you can sustain it? I see that. I do. And yet, I'd rather just enjoy it. Further, I don't mind all that much being a bit angst-ridden. It's part of life. It provides contrast. It's where insight comes from. I accept it as a necessary part of a contemplative life, of self-awareness.
To be clear, I often write when I'm content but generally I flash back to some difficulty on the road to getting there. This is where I find revelation, enlightenment. A sense of possibility and an appreciation for the journey.
But just so that I can prove my 'critics' wrong, I'm going to attempt to write about the things that make me happy at the moment:
1. I love my independence. I live my life the way I want to, hopefully without being too self-involved. Just the right amount though. I don't feel guilty about having a nice apartment that I love. I don't feel guilty about having a practical but relatively nice (not excessively so) car. I don't feel guilty about pretty shoes, therapy or trips with my children. And yes, I used to. I have found a semblance of peace with my own likes and dislikes. I don't feel like my choices are somehow wrong. Inherently. I love this! It brings me such contentment to exist in this lovely peaceful apartment without clutter or mustiness. And I love having a garage. Ahhhh, the simple things. (I realize the irony of how I iterated my happiness over this point - in the negative, the negation of guilt. Old habits die hard. Give a girl a break on this.)
2. I have such fun with my kids. They are getting older. I'm permissive when it comes to media. We laugh our faces off watching Jackass over and over again. We saw #3 three times at the theater. It's gross. We love it. When Steve-O does the outhouse stunt, the combination of danger, poop, vomit and uncontrollable laughter on the part of the Jackass crew causes us to nearly 1) vomit with them; 2) pee our pants. I love laughing with them. My oldest and I also read the same books sometimes. He recommended The Hunger Games. I read it and we talked about it. He gave away made up plot points, misdirecting me but increasing the urgency with which I inhaled the book. Funny kid. He got me.
3. I am helping to make progress in regards to the protection of athletes. I'm proud that my book instigated this in some way. I'm happy to be part of the community trying to create change on this. I love the strong women I have met in this process. And I am so proud of them all.
4. I have a boyfriend, a wonderfully lovely man who is kind and chivalrous and emotionally expressive. Who makes me coffee in the morning and forgives easily. Who listens to my feelings (when I dare express them) and thinks I'm funny. That's good stuff.
5. I have a great job and I work with great people. Yes it's hard sometimes. There's pressure and politics and pettiness at times. But all in all I work for a company that does good in the world, has a strong corporate conscience, respects consumers and delivers great products that last a lifetime for a great price. That ain't bad.
Ok that's five. I don't want to push it. Five happy thoughts all in one day. Ok one more for good measure - I love salty snacks. I could wax poetic about potato chips, pretzels, fried potatoes of any kind and a delicious margarita with an overly salted rim on a hot summer night. But I won't. I love salt in all forms and I indulge regularly. Yum.
There ... happy Jen in a nutshell. Next post - back to my wheelhouse. Dark and brooding. This is deemed "a don't panic log" after all...
Sunday, December 4, 2011
From J-sis with Love
I've been negligent. Not much in the mood to write anything. Busy I suppose. Work, kids, new man. Lots going on. All good stuff. All happy stuff. Still trying to find time to just 'be' ... have come to appreciate the alone time in the last year. I never knew how much I actually liked being alone. Maybe I'm more of an "I" than an "E" (ala Meyers Briggs) than I thought. Or perhaps we change as we get older. But I've come to appreciate the quiet. There's enough noise in my head most days that external quiet is required at least some of the time to avoid complete brain chaos.
Anyway, had the day to myself yesterday. My brother treated me to a brand new tattoo, my 40th birthday gift (yes that was 2 1/2 years ago... we moved a little slowly). Since he's leaving for LA with his growing family, and I'll miss him terribly, we decided on matching tattoos. Not matching exactly. We each got the nickname for the other. Goofy, corny, dumb? Maybe. But I like it. I'm j-sis.
He's c-bro.
Anyway, had the day to myself yesterday. My brother treated me to a brand new tattoo, my 40th birthday gift (yes that was 2 1/2 years ago... we moved a little slowly). Since he's leaving for LA with his growing family, and I'll miss him terribly, we decided on matching tattoos. Not matching exactly. We each got the nickname for the other. Goofy, corny, dumb? Maybe. But I like it. I'm j-sis.
He's c-bro.
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