Please comment.

Hey, people I know and love: feel free to comment on these posts. Please. It does feel a little strange opening what is essentially a diary up to the entire online world, but I hope that it will serve as a record of life - not an internal commentary.

Are you out there? I look forward to hearing from you.

Importance of a First Life - Part one

This is it: I am the most confused person there is.

I see all the possibilities of my life hanging in the air like molecules of Rainbow Brite's star sprinkles. (She colors the world, right?) The possibilities are tiny lights of job offers and career opportunities that keep blinking and burning out as I watch, too unorganized and overstimulated to snatch one out of the air. It's a nice show, but it's not getting me anywhere, which is further paralyzing.

As a high school senior, I remember working so hard on my college applications. They had taken on a life of their own. I was just on auto-pilot. At the time I think I was doing it because I felt I was just supposed to and because I wanted to make my parents happy. But I didn't actually have any idea what I was doing, why I was doing it and where it was supposed to take me...Did I even want to be where it took me? My parents would have loved me anyway.

There are no regrets there, but since then I have done a lot of the same: doing things because I was supposed to. Somehow, Society got in and planted these ideas about what I was supposed to do in my life. These thoughts dictate my life. It is easy to cover your eyes and follow the rainbow road that is laid out for you like a bed sheet or picnic blanket - a quick flick of the wrist and a foundation is laid, covering what no one wants to sleep on, brunch on. As far as I can tell, most of us shuffle down this path, but we are not happy. Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. But the three year old in me wants to know: why, why, why?

I need a plan, man. I need a way to break out of these transplanted thoughts. The thoughts can only be time bombs in my brain - that is not a light show I would survive. A decision must be made. When all these star sprinkle possibilities are gone, when I give up on snatching one out of the sky, give up committing to only a possibility of lively success and follow the path I know is concrete, then what? Creative death? But also an end to anxiety and indecision?

Insert Jeopardy theme music here.

Rainbow Brite has a lot of star sprinkles. I have a lot of talents. There are a lot of possibilities out there for everyone. How do we get there? How do I get to do all the things I want to do in my life, from hanging with my kidos to making money to traveling the world to leaving my mark...Hey big bad Society, you've told me what I'm supposed to do. Riding a unicorn through my life while making the skies blue for my children - now tell me how that is done?

Developments

Since June, things have really been changing at and around the Newberry house - we have a new baby, we are working harder than ever on our marriage and in our jobs, Ethan has changed schools a billion times, and we've moved out, moved in and been everywhere in between. For a while I felt like we were spinning our wheels like crazy and not going anywhere. But now, things are slowing down, and all this time we have been moving, progressing, developing something. I just hadn't noticed it. Payoffs are big!

The most exciting development of late - or literally three minutes ago - is STELLA'S FIRST TOOTH! I am totally not kidding. Stella cut her first tooth, I guess, today or maybe yesterday. Wasn't she just born? I'm sure she has been trying to draw our attention to it for hours, but I discovered it right after she finished nursing. She was singing and cooing and giggling and snorting and gurgling and babbling on and on - probably saying, stop fooling around, woman, and look in my mouth - and there it was! It is the tiniest, white, glossly line on her rudy gum, and it is so cute just like everything about her. I immediately raced in to show Michael, who was equally excited. Before you know it, she'll be losing that tooth, he said.

(Note: One of the awesome things about sharing "Stella - The Experience" with Michael is that both of us had similar circumstances regarding our first-born: we were both very young, in school and more or less single with no one to get giddly over these milestones with. I am so thankful I have such an awesome co-parent to share these developments with).

I am sure Michael will be snapping a thousand pictures of that adorable chunk of enamel shortly, so you will all be able to see what proud parents of a tooth-bearing child we are.

Also, and especially in the last three minutes since I noticed Stella's first tooth, for the last week, I have really been coming to terms with my new job with the University of Phoenix. I think it is fair to say that 95% or more of the people who know me well, know I have absolutely no idea what I want to do in my professional life. That seems to be a given all the way around. However, I know what I don't want to do, and being a recruiter for UOP is up there. The company is actually amazing, but the job is not. Since returning to Newberry more than a month ago, I have been unable to accomplish anything outside of the JOB - including regularly bathing my daughter - because the demands are so much more than I can handle in my new state of double motherhood and wifehood and housekeeper-hood and other such "hoods." So, at least until I find a job that will either be my "calling" or work with my first life - being a parent - I will be postponing my second life - the JOB life. And I am happy about the decision - looking for the right job while enjoying my family instead of just working in the wrong one and hating myself for not getting anything done. I have always wanted a little more time with my kids - something a little girl dreams about when growing up...Or at least I dreamt about it growing up.

ALSO, Michael has decided to go back to school, which has been the blessing of the University of Phoenix, my job from hell. He will be starting, we hope, online classes in December to complete a software engineering degree. I'm sure he will make an announcement of his own with more information for you all. (Honey, I hope you are not mad at me for posting this, but I am SOOOO excited for you. Congratulations).

More "developments" coming soon.

Life is sweet - a family update.

Ethan has been a his new school, Little Munchkins for over one month. His teachers and classmates seem to really love him. His best friend is a boy named CJ. He seems to know a new song every day and this week they learned about ovals. At some point, he watched "All Dogs Go to Heaven" because he suddenly started talking about it at dinner last night. He amazes me with the things that he says and/or repeats, and he spends hours outside climbing on his swing set or pretending to be Peter Pan. ("Come on Wendy-bird," he calls to me). He and Michael even went out for a walk a couple of days ago to "hunt for Indians" (like in Peter Pan).

Our newest adventure at the house is money! For a while, I have been encouraging him to pick up Michael's change around the house and save it. (Most of it falls out of Michael's pockets when he sits down anywhere). I was mostly encouraging it, of course, so I wouldn't have to pick it up because it makes me nuts, but one day Michael suggested we take him to the dollar store and let him spend it. He LOVES the dollar store. So this week, Peter Pan had a little, plastic trumpet when he threw "John Captain Hook" off the swing set into the crocodile's mouth.

Stella is so chatty! She is blabbering and bubbling along for a good half hour at a time, whether anyone is paying attention to her or not...But she does like to be cooed at. She is also starting to roll around - onto her tummy at least once! She crosses her little ankles and shoots her legs out until she rocks over onto her side.

She loves Sesame Street, too. I suspect that is why she first rolled over. Ethan watches PBSkids.ord, as he calls it, some mornings while Michael and I get dressed. One morning when I was walking through the house from the laundry room to my bedroom, I noticed Sister laying on her back in the living room, craning her neck at the TV where Elmo was playing the piano - her little legs were shoved out so her heels pushed her heavy bottom just in the right direction. She was kneading her hands, eyes and mouth wide open, so excited by the neon muppets on the screen.

Michael and I are doing well,too. We have been working a lot, not unpacking, not cleaning, not stressing out too much about finances. It has been wonderful. Last night, we stayed up late reading comics together on the couch - he with his laptop, me with mine. I hope that the past month or so is an indication of what our new life as a family again can be all the time. Horray for hope!

Happy holidays -life is sweet!

חנכה or חנוכה

This year at Newberry Drive, we will be celebrating Hanukkah in an effort to expose ourselves and our children to different traditions celebrated throughout the world at this time of year.

There are two reasons for this:

Numero uno: When I met Michael almost two years ago, I came face to face with a suspicion that has been striving for years to become a realization: I don't know what I want to know, and I have not experienced what I want to experience. My opinions about life and knowledge are theoretical and never experienced. And I realized that understanding such a shortfall and doing nothing about it makes me a hypocrite...And a sorely self-disappointed one. So, also knowing I have a tendency to be only temporarily motivated, I sprung into action! Michael and I talked about it - he, without fail, holds me accountable to the ideas I lazily toss around.

And also: One of the things that makes Michael and I a strong parenting team was a discovery that came up in conversations about raising independent and aware children. We found that as parents we believe it is our job as parents to light and fan Curiosity's flame - appropriately and specifically termed for this holiday - for our children. If we can't do that much for them, we ultimately fail.

We are especially concerned about the * presence of Christianity during this time of the year. To put it bluntly, if our children choose to be Christians at some point in their lives, we want it to be because they know enough about the world and the spiritual choices it offers. Not because it is the largest religion in the world in more ways than one, and they can't escape it.

Though Michael and I have been talking about making this change in our lives for the past two years, I became especially motivated this year to make this change in our lives when I started looking for a menorah for our home. Now I realized that Christmas is Retail's dream come true, but I was sure there would be a menorah tucked away on the holiday isle at HEB or Walmart. They sell stockings, right? Nothing. We had to go to World Market to find a menorah and candles - World Market being the retail store selling "eclectic" stuff. I also saw one at Party Pig Super Store. What? Does any one else see the horrific irony in that?

We bought the menorah at World Market - since a plastic one from Party Pig was surly going to melt - and are now researching our new holiday. I can't promise I'll learn Hebrew in time and we do hope to have a Hanukkah potluck, but for the most part we would like to follow the traditions as best as possible.

So, we'll keep you posted on all of this as it unravels...

Working woman

I worked from 8:45 this morning until 8 p.m. tonight. Michael and the kids picked me up. I nursed Stella, read Ethan four books...Kissed my husband.

I just knocked over one of my favorite vintage style water glasses. Now both the water that was in it and the glass are all over the living room floor.

I'm too tired to pick it up. I'm bare foot.

But I'm also thirsty.

I often wonder where my indiffernce comes from. There seems to be a lot of it. Every now and then, I wonder if the indifference is actually apathy. Like with this water glass - I knocked off the coffee table at least 15 minutes ago. And yeah, I'm tired, but I think most people would be startled into action just by the sound of a smashing glass. I've been sitting here with the broken-ness all over the floor, typing away, thinking about it but making no choices.

In one of the trainings at the office last week, we learned - or more accurately we were told -how"being awake" or "being there" at work was a crucial part of customer service. For some people I imagine it is crucial, but in my case I tend to be pretty good at listening and anticipating needs. Does this mean I need a new job? Because I can do it in a waking sleep?

When do I get serviced? Where's my help hotline?

There is also a commercial for McDonald's coffee about "being awake." It's too bad it's so clever and horribly relatable. The mom and her kids are in their mini van, presumably on the way to school and work in the morning. Mom takes a drink of her very tall McDonald's coffee, then turns around in her seat. There are three kids squished in behind her. She is shocked. She's never seen these kids before. She turns back around wide-eyed and says: I'm a soccer mom. The commercial ends with Mom trying to guess her children's extracirricular activities. Girls, ballet?

Didn't McDonald's get sued because their coffee was too hot? Maybe in real life, Mom wouldn't have been able to ask her kids if they expected her to take them to soccer practice because her tongue is blistered by the coffee.

I don't know. I'm so tired. I keep having tiny explosions of reality: This is my life. But it sure feels like a dream.

It has been a long four months.

It is funny how when you are with a thing too much - even if in the beginning you were so proud of it - you can really, really hate it. Everyone knows it is possible to get too much of a good thing, but home is where the heart is, right? In this case, I was in the thing that there was too much of - a house - Newberry. And in the end, I hated it.

It was the kind of hate that just made me want to lock it up with everything still in it and walk away. Let it fidget anxiously behind my back - She's not really just going to walk away, is she? Just leave it sitting. Make it wait, empty - Watch this, you old house. If the house hadn't been all around me, if it had been possible to glare at a fixed point to really make it feel my frustration, my impatience, my anger, I'd glare at that spot until the house withered in my gaze - or went up in flames. Then I'd give it the big middle finger. I despised it. I resented it. It robbed me of extra money I might use for a movie, toys for my kid, a bill payment, hell, savings. Ha! It was a lot of work. It knew all my secrets. It still knows all my secrets.

And yet...I'm back.

And it feels good.

Absence surly does make the heart grow fonder. Again, we are all familiar with such cliches. But maybe the house just needed to air out a bit. Lord knows a lot happened in it. It heard a lot about me from its spidery spies. Maybe it had just gotten heavy with thought, anticipation, misunderstanding, fear, promises and possibility...And a couple of stupid people doing stupid things. I know that in the last days, aside from my pregnancy, I could hardly move in the house. It was like walking in water. The ceiling was a wet washcloth, and I was a small scorpion underneath it. It was suffocating. I hated it, and I had to go.

I am at least 50 pounds lighter now, which helps, but the air is lighter around here, too. Maybe I just needed to clear the air. There is still a lot of thinking and anticipating and misunderstanding, fearing, promising and a ton of possibility. There are still stupid people doing and saying stupid things. We are always as dumb as we think we are - but I learned something in the last four, very long months: I didn't just miss this house...In the end, it's all just a big, fat analogy anyway.

This old house: Newberry in absence.

It has been a long four months.

It is funny how when you are with a thing too much - even if in the beginning you were so proud of it - you can really, really hate it. Everyone knows it is possible to get too much of a good thing, but home is where the heart is, right? In this case, I was in the thing that there was too much of - a house - Newberry. And in the end, I hated it.

It was the kind of hate that just made me want to lock it up with everything still in it and walk away. Let it fidget anxiously behind my back - She's not really just going to walk away, is she? Just leave it sitting. Make it wait, empty - Watch this, you old house. If the house hadn't been all around me, if it had been possible to glare at a fixed point to really make it feel my frustration, my impatience, my anger, I'd glare at that spot until the house withered in my gaze - or went up in flames. Then I'd give it the big middle finger. I despised it. I resented it. It robbed me of extra money I might use for a movie, toys for my kid, a bill payment, hell, savings. Ha! It was a lot of work. It knew all my secrets. It still knows all my secrets.

And yet...I'm back.

And it feels good.

Absence surly does make the heart grow fonder. Again, we are all familiar with such cliches. But maybe the house just needed to air out a bit. Lord knows a lot happened in it. It heard a lot about me from its spidery spies. Maybe it had just gotten heavy with thought, anticipation, misunderstanding, fear, promises and possibility...And a couple of stupid people doing stupid things. I know that in the last days, aside from my pregnancy, I could hardly move in the house. It was like walking in water. The ceiling was a wet washcloth, and I was a small scorpion underneath it. It was suffocating. I hated it, and I had to go.

I am at least 50 pounds lighter now, which helps, but the air is lighter around here, too. Maybe I just needed to clear the air. There is still a lot of thinking and anticipating and misunderstanding, fearing, promising and a ton of possibility. There are still stupid people doing and saying stupid things. We are always as dumb as we think we are - but I learned something in the last four, very long months: I didn't just miss this house...In the end, it's all just a big, fat analogy anyway.

Four Months

It has been a long four months.

It is funny how when you are with a thing too much - even if in the beginning you were so proud of it - you can really, really hate it. Everyone knows it is possible to get too much of a good thing, but home is where the heart is, right? In this case, I was in the thing that there was too much of - a house - Newberry. And in the end, I hated it.

It was the kind of hate that just made me want to lock it up with everything still in it and walk away. Let it fidget anxiously behind my back - She's not really just going to walk away, is she? Just leave it sitting. Make it wait, empty - Watch this, you old house. If the house hadn't been all around me, if it had been possible to glare at a fixed point to really make it feel my frustration, my impatience, my anger, I'd glare at that spot until the house withered in my gaze - or went up in flames. Then I'd give it the big middle finger. I despised it. I resented it. It robbed me of extra money I might use for a movie, toys for my kid, a bill payment, hell, savings. Ha! It was a lot of work. It knew all my secrets. It still knows all my secrets.

And yet...I'm back.

And it feels good.

Absence surly does make the heart grow fonder. Again, we are all familiar with such cliches. But maybe the house just needed to air out a bit. Lord knows a lot happened in it. It heard a lot about me from its spidery spies. Maybe it had just gotten heavy with thought, anticipation, misunderstanding, fear, promises and possibility...And a couple of stupid people doing stupid things. I know that in the last days, aside from my pregnancy, I could hardly move in the house. It was like walking in water. The ceiling was a wet washcloth, and I was a small scorpion underneath it. It was suffocating. I hated it, and I had to go.

I am at least 50 pounds lighter now, which helps, but the air is lighter around here, too. Maybe I just needed to clear the air. There is still a lot of thinking and anticipating and misunderstanding, fearing, promising and a ton of possibility. There are still stupid people doing and saying stupid things. We are always as dumb as we think we are - but I learned something in the last four, very long months: I didn't just miss this house...In the end, it's all just a big, fat analogy anyway.