When I get a full night's sleep, about once every three months or so, I feel like Superwoman the next day! It is astounding how restorative it actually is - all that stuff they say about sleep is true!
When I don't get enough sleep I am crankier, more of a taskmaster to myself and everyone else for the sake of "function", and I'm way less fun. Fun is wherever you find it, and when I'm tired I just can't see the fun. This is bad. Generally it's not that useful to categorize things as "good" or "bad" but in this case I stick with my judgement. Life is short, I'm discovering, and I don't want to live a short life of unpleasantness. I just don't! I need to work on that.
I have to toot my own horn a little bit, though, I am remarkably functional on little or no sleep. It's like my newfound superpower. I'm sure this isn't unique to me. When you have kids you just adjust to the new normal (the former crazy). I still impress myself every day that I'm even able to concentrate enough to put my pants on. I do that, and so, so much more. I'm amazing!
People tell me all the time that it gets better and eventually I'll sleep like a normal human again. I sort of believe this. I want to believe it. When I get one good night of sleep I can see that it might be possible again. I look forward to that day. Until then I'll manage the best I can. Looking like a zombie is en vogue these days anyway, so I've also got that going for me. Ha!
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Dear Job Letter
Dear Job,
Our relationship has changed. I wouldn't say that I don't love you anymore, but if I'm honest I will admit that I don't like you quite as much as I used to. Since my change in perspective, I realize that I need you and I kind of resent that. I don't like to be dependent. I like to believe in the illusion that I'm free to do whatever I want, and I no longer have that luxury. I feel trapped.
All this is not your fault, and not even any of your concern. I know the terms of our deal. You pay me and I work. You don't owe me anything other than that. The personal satisfaction is mine to find. You don't have to understand that the rest of my life is more difficult now. You don't have to be flexible with me in any way. I don't expect special treatment because I have a family.
I still want the most creative, cutting edge, high-profile, resume-building projects that I used to get. I want to be a star and be recognized for my brilliance. I want to be promoted and advance in my career. It bums me out that I am out of the running in many ways because of my newfound perceived (and real) limitations. I want to be the one to dictate what I can and cannot do, and I want control of how I'm being considered. But I need to give this up and just accept where I am right now.
I don't want to work the long hours that I used to. I don't want to travel. I don't want more responsibility and more things to wake up worrying about. I am giving about all I've got to give, and I think we all know that. This is a way more brutal "transition" than I thought it would be. I have to remind myself that I just need to suck it up and do my work. I'm happy to have a job, and I'm happy to have this job. I just have to work twice as hard to get the same results now and it makes me weary.
I want you to know that you are still a priority, you are just more of a means-to-an-end type of priority than you used to be. It's inevitable. I don't think we need to go to counseling or anything. I think we can work this out.
Sincerely,
me
Our relationship has changed. I wouldn't say that I don't love you anymore, but if I'm honest I will admit that I don't like you quite as much as I used to. Since my change in perspective, I realize that I need you and I kind of resent that. I don't like to be dependent. I like to believe in the illusion that I'm free to do whatever I want, and I no longer have that luxury. I feel trapped.
All this is not your fault, and not even any of your concern. I know the terms of our deal. You pay me and I work. You don't owe me anything other than that. The personal satisfaction is mine to find. You don't have to understand that the rest of my life is more difficult now. You don't have to be flexible with me in any way. I don't expect special treatment because I have a family.
I still want the most creative, cutting edge, high-profile, resume-building projects that I used to get. I want to be a star and be recognized for my brilliance. I want to be promoted and advance in my career. It bums me out that I am out of the running in many ways because of my newfound perceived (and real) limitations. I want to be the one to dictate what I can and cannot do, and I want control of how I'm being considered. But I need to give this up and just accept where I am right now.
I don't want to work the long hours that I used to. I don't want to travel. I don't want more responsibility and more things to wake up worrying about. I am giving about all I've got to give, and I think we all know that. This is a way more brutal "transition" than I thought it would be. I have to remind myself that I just need to suck it up and do my work. I'm happy to have a job, and I'm happy to have this job. I just have to work twice as hard to get the same results now and it makes me weary.
I want you to know that you are still a priority, you are just more of a means-to-an-end type of priority than you used to be. It's inevitable. I don't think we need to go to counseling or anything. I think we can work this out.
Sincerely,
me
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
The Girl Ruined My Hair (or The Grass Is Greener)
I was born with thick straight brown hair. I always wanted curly, full-of-body hair instead. Even when I tried to manufacture the ideal look with a perm, you could barely tell because my hair was so heavy. Eventually I gave all that up and came to see my hair as a blessing. It didn't do many tricks but it was shiny and healthy and long. This worked for me for years and years, and I came to take it for granted. I had good hair pride and I assumed that it would always be this way.
One of the great things about life is that there is never a shortage of surprises. When I was pregnant, my hair started to develop a wiry wave in the back, underneath the top layer of my straight hair. This fluffed it out a little bit and I enjoyed running my fingers through it. I chalked it up to crazy pregnancy hormones.
Well, the hair is still that way, and the fluff appears to be spreading. When it's wet, I like looking at the curls, but when it dries it's a fluffy, frizzy, uncontrollable mess. My expensive haircut no longer applies. I feel like a reckless clown. Is this permanent? This is a classic case of be careful what you ask for!
I'm afraid I'm going to have to resort to some sort of hair control methods. I've always been reluctant (too lazy) to employ these types of things because honestly I'm overwhelmed by all the choices (and too uninterested in putting effort into research). I've always felt that beauty products are kind of like the emperor's new clothes. They are expensive, and my discipline is fickle.
This is all neither here nor there, but it does mark a new hair era for me. It reminds me that I need to stay flexible with my self-image as I slowly slip into old age, where many more surprises await.
One of the great things about life is that there is never a shortage of surprises. When I was pregnant, my hair started to develop a wiry wave in the back, underneath the top layer of my straight hair. This fluffed it out a little bit and I enjoyed running my fingers through it. I chalked it up to crazy pregnancy hormones.
Well, the hair is still that way, and the fluff appears to be spreading. When it's wet, I like looking at the curls, but when it dries it's a fluffy, frizzy, uncontrollable mess. My expensive haircut no longer applies. I feel like a reckless clown. Is this permanent? This is a classic case of be careful what you ask for!
I'm afraid I'm going to have to resort to some sort of hair control methods. I've always been reluctant (too lazy) to employ these types of things because honestly I'm overwhelmed by all the choices (and too uninterested in putting effort into research). I've always felt that beauty products are kind of like the emperor's new clothes. They are expensive, and my discipline is fickle.
This is all neither here nor there, but it does mark a new hair era for me. It reminds me that I need to stay flexible with my self-image as I slowly slip into old age, where many more surprises await.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Fierce!
On Saturday, my biological dad and my brother Monte came over to visit. It was the first time my dad had met Arli. She was not impressed! She has suddenly developed a fierce "stranger danger" glare and she is not afraid to use it on anyone she meets!
This is the wind-up:
Mild stay away, sucka!
On Easter, the antics continued. At dinner, she stared down cousin Robby from across the room for about 10 straight minutes. She had the entire room in stitches with her fierce concentration on destroying her opponent with her eyes. I wish I had gotten a photo of it.
She did, however, practice the glare on pretty much everyone. When you're tiny and adorable, you need a defense, I guess! Here she is giving it to cousin Bill:
This is the wind-up:
Mild stay away, sucka!
On Easter, the antics continued. At dinner, she stared down cousin Robby from across the room for about 10 straight minutes. She had the entire room in stitches with her fierce concentration on destroying her opponent with her eyes. I wish I had gotten a photo of it.
She did, however, practice the glare on pretty much everyone. When you're tiny and adorable, you need a defense, I guess! Here she is giving it to cousin Bill:
I'm not sure who she was terrifying here:
She's a little warrior already. I think this will serve her well in life. She looks sweet, but I wouldn't mess with her!
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