I've always been a workaholic. I get fidgety when I cannot work and bored when I'm home sick (like now). (Unfortunately for my husband, I don't include cleaning under the same category.)
So here I am, sitting at home trying to rest from a nasty cold/laryngitis/at-least-it's-not-the-swine-flu but I keep checking email and thinking about work. There's so much on my plate right now that I cannot imagine anything functioning w/o me (which is silly, of course). It also means MORE work when I return to the office, so I am trying to [long pause to cough my lungs up] reduce the catch-up game.
I am currently [longer pause to check work email] working too much, but this seems to be the case at all points in my life. I want to go forward, and it seems that to do this I need to overload myself.
I just got back from a 4-day conference in NYC and it was great but also frustrating. I could barely talk and hence network. I was sworn in as a division administrator and had my second board meeting ever. I tried hard to have a fun Halloween in the city, but pouring rain and lack of energy added up to a 10:30pm bedtime watching bad television at the Marriott in Times Square. When I got into the train station, back home after 5 days, Clover didn't want to look at me at first, and once she warmed up she didn't want to let go. She is getting so big and chatty, and keeps learning new Portuguese words (água, cabelo), in addition to the dozens of English words. She is trying to put sentences together. She sing-songs the sentence ("I don't like it" and "I don't want to" are big ones) w/o really knowing each word - she goes by the sound. She is also an amazing dancer and very musical. She plays on her wood piano and on daddy's drums and actually sounds good. I am getting very close to wanting to start on a new kid, as much work and craziness and financial doom I know it would cause.
October flew by, as predicted. Hopefully November will be a bit slower and allow me to live more and work just a tad less (not likely, but it doesn't hurt to dream). I am going to commit, right now and right here, to upping my exercise regime and losing some of those baby pounds. And to keep up this blog.
it's time again to revive this blog. I need an outlet, I need an ear and it's cheaper than therapy.
I've been searching lately for answers about living in this world, about what role I want to take and how involved or not I want to be with the current establishment. There are so many things I disagree with, so many ways in which I think we are disconnected from life itself, from the world around us, from the breathing beings who accompany us on our journey. But I don't want to be bitter; I don't want to hate others or how things are. I also don't think I want to live in constant protest-mode or elude myself into thinking I can make a greater difference. I know I can make a difference for myself and my immediate peeps, but probably not much else. Today I heard on the radio that by 2070 the earth temp will have risen by 4 degrees on average (over 10 degrees in many places). Clover will probably (hopefully?) still be here. So I should go out and campaign for alternative energy? More electric cars? Less big screens numbing our brains? What will make a difference? Cursing under my breath at SUV drivers WON'T, I know that much.
I am also struggling with what might or might not be a contrast/contradiction: living life to its fullest and building a responsible life. I want to lose myself in music, in rain showers, in unbridled passion, in food that's too good to be completely healthy, in moments of pure bliss, uncontrolled laughter and ridiculous dancing. I want to live life like I only have a year left, or like my kid or husband only has a year left. But I know this ain't the way it works -- it's human nature to want to live for the moment but to be hardwired to do otherwise (OK, maybe for many others it's just the opposite, but I am the responsible, good girl with a head on her shoulders type, unfortunately or not). What would I do if given a year to live? Would I continue to work too much, miss my baby all day, bicker about E's driving and worry about being a messy spouse? Would I go near the ocean, the mountains, around the world, or just back home? (And where is home anyway?) What rules would I break?
I need more balance. I've always been too good, too well behaved, and now here I am. Gainfully (overly) employed, married with a kid, the chair of some division in a professional organization, a board member of another (!!!), healthy, with no major losses and relatively happy. Very blessed by what life has given me and not inclined to believe in a single god (but cada vez mais in a higher order, a divine presence in the universe). And so what? Is it a sophomoric question to ponder the "one year left" scenario? Or here's another question: is this what I want? Is this my role in life, in this huge universe circling and swirling in who knows what direction or context? (For the record: I am way too young to be having a midlife crisis.)
I think I need more of the type of experience that E is trying so hard to define for his comps: the inexplicable, indescribable, butt-kicking and heart-jumping moments that make us feel alive, pulsating, and far removed from any known reality. The ones that make us stop in our tracks, in which we have to remember to breathe. Music often does this for me, but the trick is that you cannot try; you cannot run after these moments. You can go and grab them; you need to be open to them, with all your being, but you can't seek them out directly. Or maybe I just don't know how.
You are now over a year old. According to one friend, past immediate danger, but I still check your breathing occasionally in the middle of the night. Fear of losing you, of someone/thing hurting you, of not raising you the best way possible, etc. etc., permeates my every thought. A light anxiety underlines my life. It's separate from the love, from the overwhelming joy I feel when you smile, when you come toward me, when you sit and "read" a book, when I feel your sweet breath next to my cheek or nose. I can take it together and it doesn't cause me stress- the anxiety is the drive to take care of you, to protect you from the harm in this world.
This world is crazy. There's a recession right now, one that I hope will be over by the time you can read this. It brings out despair, loneliness, greed and emptiness. I find myself wanting to move to the countryside or an isolated village far far away and disconnect from everything, raise you on real cow's milk and homegrown veggies. But we are lucky and doing well. I have a steady job that I enjoy, your father is studying and teaching, we have a loving family, nutty dogs, a big house, wonderful care for you during the day (oh how I miss you then!), and only a small pinch in the wallet, nothing compared to most. We are trying to create a budget, I am trying to control my love for shoes, yet I can go to the Y and swim and next week I start a sewing class (first project: a dress for you, my sweet Clover girl). Things move forward endlessly, one way or another.
Your father and I have been together nearly ten years (3 weeks to go). Your arrival has changed us and our relationship, deepening our love and bond and also exposing more of our unbridled selves. We don't mince words, even when we should. We sometimes forget to kiss each other good night. I can't stand the way he chews with his mouth open and he hates my messy messy ways. But I am so happy to have picked him to be your father, to be the one to throw you in the air, and tuck you in bed, and calm your cries and put your tights on backwards. You are one lucky girl.
You are walking, nearly running, and climbing on everything. Your first word was "no," followed by "uh-oh" (as in, I dropped something) and now "hello." You've said "momma" and "mommy" and "mama" and "me," indiscriminately, just like the books say. Your favorite book seems to be I Love You Through and Through, which you got from Jennifer, your daytime surrogate mom. You sleep with a cheap bunny whose ears are all grungy already and you wake promptly at 5 am for a morning feeding before dozing off again. It's hard to get you up at 7:15. You are getting picky about food, but not insolent. Your smile is absolutely gorgeous, and you know it. Every stranger you come across knows it. You like Blazer more than Dunga and try to pet and hug him and pull his ears too hard. You hate your car seat. You've got a pot belly. Your hair is starting to curl oh-so-slightly in the back Your eyes are like the Caribbean sea - green or blue depending on the light, shining brightly, dazzlingly. You are the Clover of my dreams, entrenched so deep in my heart it hurts.
Clover is now crawling and trying to climb up on everything. She really wants to stand all the time. Another favorite is pulling all my disorderly, messy clothing into a big pile around her and then sucking on her favorite piece (usually the most valuable/least washable, like a silk shirt).
I cannot wait until the year is over, because 2009 will mean a 40-hr work-week for moi. That's right, no more 60 hours for me! I have four more classes to teach, plus two final exam sessions, tons of grading and then...hmmm...what will I do with myself then?
We're going to Brazil in a month or so. Clover has her passport and now she needs her visa. I can't wait to take her to the beach and watch her play with the water, pisces that she is.
I've been sick countless times since September and I'm blaming it on too much work. Hopefully it's not daycare in general or the office where I work.
So it turns out my thyroid was off and not producing enough hormones to keep me running properly. Apparently this is common after pregnancy but often missed because, why yes, new moms are super tired for good reasons! I'm on synthetic hormones now and feeling MUCH better. I can think straight again and have more mental energy in general. My body also responded by sending me my long lost friend (16 months no see), which was a complete surprise and a bit surreal. Like, I'm bleeding surreal.
Clover is amazing. She is beautiful, beautiful. I love watching her sit and play - she has a graceful posture, a strong back and a pretty nape. She utters the funniest sounds and is figuring things out. She makes raspberries especially when she has the yuckiest food in her mouth. She can move about a lot and will be crawling very soon. Her favorite toys are a tambourine, a small tiny bumble bee and pretty much anything that fits into her mouth. She loves taking baths and splashing around in the water and she smiles at everyone. Her birthmark is still there and it's quite charming. She often wants me specifically over anyone else (this feels selfishly good). She's a good nurser and an eager eater and shares her food with the dogs. When I look at her my heart swells with love and pride and happiness.
I am still working way too much and don't have time to write more beautifully or with better details. Suffice to say that all is well and motherhood continues to be a huge source of joy and learning, including inner knowledge. I don't think I've ever felt stronger.
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