Diary of a Single Mom on the Edge

post-thanksgiving musings, with lyrics

A week has passed just like that.  I hadn't meant to abandon everything here like that.  I find that I'm feeling the need to pull back and regroup and figure out what my next best step is.  Meanwhile, we're smack-dab in the middle of the holiday season.  The long Thanksgiving weekend went by in a whirlwind of family and friends and ferry rides.

Stayed up late one night talking with my sister.  I used to know her better than anybody and now she is this almost-stranger who looks like me.  We talk mostly about family stuff.  I am so glad to have her in my life; I know that someday we will be closer again. For now we are like that line in the song Southern Cross: "My love is an anchor tied to you, tied with a silver chain."  There is a bond there that can't be broken, but there are many links between us.

The rest of the weekend made me think of a quirky little Elton John song, Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters.  "I thank the lord for the people I have found." 

Then there is my mom, who is essentially my co-parent, who always is there when I need her for a child care emergency or a financial emergency, or advice, or help with Hijo's dad, or anything at all.  I don't even have to ask, she is just there. 

At Thanksgiving dinner we were given slips of paper and pencils to write down what we were thankful for.  I think I misunderstood the instructions, because most everyone wrote just one thing.  I made a list.  I started with, "I am grateful that Hijo is healthy" and I just kept going until I got to the bottom of my little paper and there was no more room.

the end is near

ClubMom has let us know that they have decided to eliminate all the MomBlogs by the end of the year.  Many of your favorite ClubMom bloggers will be continuing their blogs at a different venue.  ClubMom has graciously offered to let us keep our content and blog names intact. I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do. 

The timing is interesting as I've decided to take a short hiatus from my personal blog (a decision I made before knowing what was up with ClubMom).  So, although I will be posting here through the end of the year, it might be fairly sporadic while I figure out what the best thing for me is. 

But enough about me.  Get on over to CafeMom (if you haven't already) and get your profile set up and start hanging out and sharing stuff with all the thousands of cool moms there.  There are at least five different groups for single moms alone.  There are groups for every interest and hobby and family situation.  Although I appreciate so much everyone who stops by here to read what I have to say (and I surely won't quit blogging entirely), I know that most of you don't just want to read what I say, you want to participate in a more active way, and I'm happy that ClubMom has figured that out and is embracing web 2.0 culture.

It's been a real treat to be here; I've loved the experience and I appreciate so much the opportunity to connect with all of you.

I'll be checking in later this week with some thoughts on (what else) Thanksgiving.

Janeen

On Borrowed Wings by Chandra Prasad, a SMOTE review

I confess that it took me a long time to read On Borrowed Wings.  I read two other books in between the time I started and finished it.  I was impatient with its beginning, wanted to rush right into the meat and heart of the story instead of letting it slowly unfold.  But as I read the last sentence, I had tears in my eyes and I turned immediately back to the first page to read the opening paragraphs again.  I guess you could say it grew on me. 

On Borrowed Wings is the story of Adele, the daugher of a small town Connecticut stonecutter who is attending her first year at depression era Yale disguised as a boy. Prasad uses all the drama inherent in that situation to good effect.  There is so much to hide, so many ways she might get found out, that it's dizzying, and you find yourself terrified wondering whether she can pull it off.  By the end of the book you are extremely gratified that she does -- and not always in the ways you might expect.

Not only must Adele hide her true female identity from everyone around her, but she must also hide from the one person with whom she shares her secret: her mother.  Born to a wealthy family, her mother becomes estranged from them when she marries Adele's father. When he dies, along with Adele's brother Charlie in a quarry accient, she desperately concocts the scheme that sets Adele's adventures in motion and that she hopes will save her from the "granite wasteland" of their hometown. She is vain, proud, bitter and oddly sympathetic as she trades jewelry and other less tangible things in order to ensure that Adele's identity remains hidden.  Although tightly bound by their plan, if not a deep love, everything becomes unraveled as Adele gains independence as a result of her new life as a student.

the cursed errand

Hijo and I had the day off together yesterday.  It could not be described as a love-filled fest of mother and son bonding. 

The day was ours except for one errand that I had to run.  It was a simple errand, consisting of needing to go downtown (all of a mile from where we live) and pick up the envelopes for the invitations to my parents' 50th wedding anniversary party.  This errand, in any normal circumstances would take about fifteen minutes. 

However, Hijo did not want to go.  He passionately did NOT WANT TO GO.  He refused to go.  He could not be cajoled.  He could not be reasoned with.  He could not be beaten into submission.  He could not be bribed nor threatened nor convinced in any way that I could conceive of.  Nice mommy didn't work.  Mean mommy didn't work.  Evoking his beloved Grandmother, for whom we were performing this simple task, didn't work.  He suggested I just leave him at home.  I considered it.  But he's not quite old enough to stay home alone, even for a brief errand.  Not to mention the fact that by this time there was no way I was backing down.  It was a classic power struggle.

This went on for the better part of an hour, my frustration building.  I explained to Hijo that we were wasting more time talking (arguing, whining) about this errand than if we'd actually just done the errand in the first place. Finally, we left the house, braving the wind and rain, only to arrive at the stationery store and have her tell us that the envelopes weren't there and she was oh so sorry she hadn't called me up to tell me.

I did what any completely frustrated frazzled grumpy mom would do at this point: I started to laugh.  And then we went and bought lasagna and brownies.

reasons I'm feeling better

The blahs seem to be fading quickly, thank goodness.  The fact that it's the weekend helps immensely.  No matter how much I like my job, I will always like my own time better.  Also helping my mental and emotional state is the fact that I am beginning to have a social life here in PT.

I've been dancing a few times, went on a nice long walk with someone I met at one of the dances, and later on I'm going to the movies with a woman who I think will become a true friend.  I've been patiently waiting for this to happen.  Well, waiting on it, and working towards it.  Taking those little steps to get me here.  Pushing myself a bit.

Hijo's dad got a new job, a job that I think will improve his life significantly even if it doesn't pay a whole lot more than what he's making now.

I took some nice fotos:

Finally, an announcement:  I promised the author of the book I'm reading to review here that I'd post it by November 15th.  Which is fast approaching!  I am the queen of procrastinators, so don't expect it much sooner than that, but do expect it.

play

Every mom knows that kids learn by playing.  But what about adults?  Why don't our lessons ever involve play?  How much are we restricting ourselves because we never let ourselves play around?

I'm not talking about the things we do for fun.  I'm talking about taking an open, playful approach to the way we learn things, or even take on a new task.

For example, I'm starting to work on a big creative project.  I think a lot about how I'm going to approach it.  I work on it.  I think some more.  I deal with my anxiety about whether I can actually complete this project. I talk to my friends about it.  But I never just play around with it. 

Why not?  I'm starting to ask myself.  What horrible thing might befall said creative project if I just played around with it a bit?  Made it fun to work on?  Took away the weight of calling it BIG CREATIVE PROJECT and just turned it into play?

It's a scary concept, I think, because playing around means relinquishing control.  If we're just messing about, then we aren't serious writers/painters/photographers, we're just goof-offs.  We are opening up ourselves and our work to a certain amount of messiness.  And grownups hate messes.

However, I think it's important to break free of this adult mantle that I wear around all the time.  Mother. Responsible Employee (Team Player!). Writer.  Making art, any kind of art, has its basis in play, a delight in the materials, the colors, the sounds, the rhythms of whatever it is you're playing with.  If I can just get back into that sense of freedom around what I'm attempting, I might be able to pull it off.  And I'll certainly enjoy myself a hell of a lot more.

interesting fact of the day

The number of unmarried women is equal to the number of married women in the country, and we are a force to be reckoned with.

Use your political power often and use it well my friends.

singing the blahs

I am dealing with a big ol' case of the blahs.  Change of seasons, change of light, change of an important friendship, change, change, change.  Some of the changes could even be labeled good.  I've gone dancing, met some potentially interesting dudes to potentially date, stuff like that.  Overall things are going well.

Yet still I say blah.

It's an internal feeling, a lack of energy, lack of desire to do things like go to work.  No, it's not depression.  It's just blah.

Don't think there's really much to do about these blahs.  You've just got to ride them out. 

Maybe Harry Potter can cast them away.

the glamorous and the not so glamorous life

I had a long conversation with my sister on the phone this morning.  She was relating the chat she had with Hillary Clinton last night.  Yup.  My sister the airline pilot ran into Hillary Clinton in the hallway of the hotel where they were both staying.  She had heard from the cab driver that Senator Clinton was staying in the same hotel, and when she got to her floor there was a secret service-type guy standing outside a door practically right next to my sister's room.  She joked with him, "So, is that Hillary's room?"  He surprised her by saying yes.

My sister asked if she could possibly speak with the Senator, since she, like Mrs. Clinton, is a powerful woman, and thought they would probably get along pretty well.  She was only half serious because she didn't think there was any way she'd actually get her wish.  "Well," he told her, "the Senator will be coming around that corner in about one minute if you want to see her."

My sister waited in the hall with her luggage and the flight attendants that had been on her shift earlier.  Sure enough, along came Hillary and a bunch more secret service dudes walking towards them.  My sister went right up to her and shook her hand.  She had the presence of mind to call her "Senator Clinton" when she introduced herself, which shows she has a much better grasp of etiquette and cool than I do, as I'm sure I would have been jumping up and down and calling out, "Hillary! Hillary!"

The thing that was most amazing about it, my sister said, was that usually when you see someone so powerful or famous, even if you are close up, there would be dozens, maybe even hundreds of people all around you.  She, on the other hand, got to say hello in quite an intimate set of circumstances.  How cool is that?

Later on in the conversation we were talking about the different things going on in my life, everything from issues with Hijo's dad to my struggle with trying to find time for the endless list of things that I want to (and must) do.  At one point she commented, "Your life IS hard."  I laughed.  No, I didn't choose an easy path.  But it's mine and there's not a heck of a lot I would change about it.  I sure would like to meet Hillary Clinton, though.

blocked

Since I seem to be suffering from a bit of blogger's block at the moment, let me take this opportunity to direct you to a cool foto contest that the happening mamas at Picture This and The Little Zygote That Could are sponsoring (along with mamazine). It's a picture taking opportunity that lets us focus on ourselves rather than our kids, which is both rather terrifying and exciting.  It's called, appropriately enough, Mama Focus.  The grand prize is a new camera, so how can you resist?  Click here for all the juicy details.

And I'll be back soon with something juicy (or at least not completely dried out) of my own soon.