2013

Okay, that last attempt to reinvent this blog as a platform for the rewrite of my apprentice novel didn't work, so I'm back to blogging as a ranter rather than a writer.

It is 2013, which amazes me, and February already, which is another surprise. I find myself slightly fuzzy around the edges these days as the process of reinvention begins.

The fall, if it wasn't obvious from posts here, was completely disorienting. I moved in with E and rented my house, started taking a technical program, and found it all almost unbearable. As of January, I'm going in a new direction, true to my roots and to myself, and it feels a lot better.

I'm going to start paying closer attention to how I feel. I can't seem to think my way through my fog, but my feelings are directing me.

I've reconciled myself to having an unconventional life. I will not mind living across the river from my husband, so long as we know it won't always be this way. I'm okay with having no expectations of the step family beyond courtesy and respect, because even that is a challenge. My career trajectory has done a 360 and that's okay, too. I'm rolling with everything and trying to enjoy it, even if I'm dizzy.

Welcome 2013.

Simplicity Parenting

I spent the early weekend listening to Kim John Payne talk about Simplicity Parenting. It made sense to me. I've always had to be simple in my parenting, because it was just A and I up until now. That made it easier, I think, to live with less, to have time to decompress, to leave our schedule open, and to avoid exposing her to adult conversations. Although maybe I'm idealizing our past. Now, things are harder.

Certainly, E isn't on board with this kind of approach, although he does include some of Payne's principles, which include 1. decluttering their environment, 2. establishing household rituals and rhythms, 3. allowing for a flexible and open schedule, and 4. filtering out the adult world.  I realize that E's more minimalist than I am, and has far less to declutter, but his kids have lots of toys and distractions, including iPods, iPads, televisions, DVD players, and computer access that A still does not. Rhythm is sometimes a challenge, but E is a domestic god because he makes dinners and we eat together, although he prefers to eat alone. Recently, however,  I had to enforce bedtimes because over the past year bedtime for his kids slid from around 8 pm to 10 pm. They've now settled on 9 pm, while A is in bed by 8 pm. Our approach to schedules differs significantly. His kids are also on a definite schedule, with lots of activities to attend to. He likes it this way, even with the driving. I have 2 days of activities for A, Mondays and Saturdays, and that's enough for me. Our adult world is separate. Both of us try not to expose our adult lives to the kids, and he reminds me, sometimes, to be careful what I say in front of A, particularly about her father. So, are we simplicity parents? Not exactly, although I'm sure we can adopt some of Payne's principles.

The garage, for instance, is full of things to give away. Tomorrow, I'll try to comb and cull toys, books, and clothes from A's room while she's at her dad's. I will also try to do that myself, though it will be harder. The prospect of having a more peaceful environment is appealing, so I'll have to try.

Payne talked about low level stress building to a syndrome of sorts over time that mimicked Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This made sense to me, especially given my experiences with custody trials over the past 6 years. I reached a point of distress myself, without really recognizing it, and now I'm trying to recover. I realize that this down time is a necessary healing time . . . while I haven't seen A manifest my distress, maybe this is something of the same for her. 

Let's try again

I've taken my new laptop back to the big box store where I purchased it 2 times now. Both times they have told me it is fine  . . . blah . . .blah . . blah. It crashed with my new software. It wouldn't properly load Blogger. I mean, what's up? I have to work with it a little more, I suppose, and hope for some clear signs of failure before I return and insist on a trade-in.

Technology!

I have to get up to speed, I'm feeling like a dinosaur.

When is one middle-aged? Does one peak before the long slide down the lifespan?  Can I look forward to a pinnacle somewhere up ahead? Will everything make sense then?

E and I watched Wanderlust  last night, which I thought was really funny. It was crude, but in a real way. It spoke to corporate/capitalist burnout. I laughed, E yawned.

I do wonder what we are all chasing. What is it that drives me, for instance? Not sure. That's what I have to work out. I guess I'm lucky to have the time to think about it.

N-W Again

I just finished N-W, I completed it on E's couch, in the morning sun. After a slow spell in the middle, it picked up. I'm left wondering what to make of it, though. I suppose the message is that we are all trying to hard to appear competent, that success is a matter of luck and perspective, that our ability to truly communicate is compromised by pride and shouldn't be.

At this point, I have to try to appreciate what I have. I can communicate, most of the time, with my husband, although we don't share a similar point of view. My daughter is full of light and hope. Slowly, slowly, I am integrating into this strange new home. I am working enough to pay the bills I need to.

Miles to go before I sleep, but I am plodding forward.

What makes one's life make sense? For me it can't be success, because I haven't any. Is it healthy relationships -- because they are hard to maintain and impossible to control. I was told yesterday I over think things.

Reading about N-W character Natalie/Keisha, I couldn't help but think of E's ex. She displayed similar breakdown behaviour, senseless affairs with some element of danger, all while she had small kids and a loving husband at home. Smith suggests that this behaviour stems from a deep sense of inadequacy, but I'm not sure I understand that. Based on what I was thinking about yesterday, don't we change because of circumstances, integrating some sense of self-esteem from success? Again, I can't really speak to this, being someone of little confidence.

Maybe, though, maybe, this fallow time I'm in is a direct result of coping so well for so long without a sense of security  . . . I'm not sure.

There is little I am sure of. Perhaps that's okay for now. I think it won't change, but I can hope it will.

Overdue

N-W is now overdue. I couldn't locate it on Monday and now the fines are mounting. I feel like I'm overdue for an overhaul.

This weekend A turned 6. I can't help but wonder how far I've drifted from my own hopes and ambitions during that time. She isn't to blame, of course, but the circumstances surrounding her have made it difficult for me in many ways.

How do you go in a new direction or know what direction to take?

It is at this point that I think back to M. Poor M who seemed to have no sense of direction, but had so many gifts. I know that almost immediately after our "break-up," if you can call it that, he met another athletic type and married her fairly fast. They had a baby about a year after I had A. I once saw him at a local beach with his baby in a Chariot, following his wife and her parents, looking as glum as the man I knew. I do wonder if he is happier now that he was before, and I think he probably is.

What changes people? Circumstances. They do. There is no doubt in my mind that you can be felled by hard times and buoyed up by good luck. I think of myself as fairly happy most of the time, but I'm feeling really tired right now. I remember this woman I met just after my ex left who said to me, "How can you be happy?" Most of the time, I try to find happiness in small, everyday things.

Perhaps I've given up on big dreams. I'm not sure if I have any, but I'd like some . . .

There has to be some way to get back on track.

N-W

I'm reading Zadie Smith's new novel. I'm not quite clear on the London district it is depicting, but I relate to the protagonist, a woman, filled with empathy, who can't seem to get a handle on her life.

I think I'm a kind person. However, I'm the kind of kind person who really, really resents unkind people, so I can't possible be as kind as I think I am. I'm not sure what that makes me. I have unkind thoughts that I override. I try not to say anything that would hurt someone, unless I think it necessary. I hold to the principle of speaking only after considering, 1. is it true, 2. is it necessary, 3. is it kind. I can't claim that I undertake the same consideration for my blog posts. This is where I vent.

So. N-W. I am a third of the way through and I have no idea where it is going. The overly empathetic protagonist seems to have a dark side, having abortions unbeknownst to her husband, befriending addicts, to everyone's chagrin. What do our dark sides say about us?

Mine reflects my frustration with the powerlessness of my situation. I can't change an upbringing that was less than ideal, a failed marriage, and a floundering career (the result of that failed marriage in large part). I try to be optimistic, but it isn't easy. Is there any way to overcome such everyday despair?

The End of the Family Unit

This was the title of a Globe and Mail article I read this morning. Certainly, in this house we are all tuned in to various screens most of the time. We have, between us, 3 televisions,  2 laptops, 1 netbook, 2 desktops, 3 iPods, 1 iPad, and 1 DS, and 3 DVD players. That's for 2 adults and 3 kids. We're about average according to the article. Often, every child is in their room with a device, while we adults rest.

When E and I were in Montreal recenlty, we stopped at Linguini's for dinner. Just as we had finished ordering, a family of five came in. There were a mom, dad, and three kids under 8. They were whiny and loud until "poof!" out came three iPads and the kids began to play, leaving their parents to have a quiet dinner for two.

Of course, using these electronic minders is probably not good for conversation among members of the family unit, but it does make it easier to be together.

What is strange to me is how the concept of family evolves. What will happen with A and E's kids? Will they think of themselves as part of a family together? Will E and I ever think of us and our kids as some kind of family unit? Certainly, we're not there yet. We're far from there . . .we eat together sometimes, but often not. Everyone has distinct interests, and the kids all have two households. E and I stay here together, but I'm always obsessing about my own home. I'm not sure whether time will change this or not.