We Are Family

Sometimes I'm amazed at how like people in a family are. Last night my Mom and Dad came over with some presents that my extended family and the FOB's family sent to Zac for his birthday. We ordered Chinese food for dinner. When dinner came we realized that we had been given an extra order of hot and spicy chicken. The dish had jalapenos and hot peppers mixed with chicken. All of the adults took one look at the food and decided that the only way we could eat any of it was to follow it with liberal dosing of maalox and antacid. Actually, the only way we could eat it would be to surgical remove our tongues - that's how strongly we feel about spicy food, in general, and jalapenos, in particular. Zac observed this family tradition by only eating white rice, a banana, and yogurt.

While my parents and I are similar, Zac and I tend to mirror each other emotionally. He's been slipping out of bed at night and coming into my bed. If I'm awake, he'll tell me that he didn't want to be in his room anymore because he's lonely. If I'm asleep, he manages to get into bed without waking me. The next morning before I'm fully awake, I'll wonder who it was that I fell asleep next to and why I don't remember it. Honestly, it's a completely confounding experience. Like: "What the hell? Why is there something simultaneously kicking me in the small of the back and hitting me in the head? Who IS this?" By the time my eyes are open, I've usually figured out that someone hasn't broken in my apartment to spoon with me. Rather, Zac's gotten out of his room.

This morning he slept all night, but woke up early. He opened my door and climbed into bed saying, "I don't want to sleep anymore. I'm lonely. I want to see what you were doing." Me: "Ummm.....zzzzzzzz" Zac: "Can I go play? You're boring" Ok, so he actually didn't say that I was boring, but that was definitely the feeling that he gave me. Maybe I'm just projecting. All I know is that he came into my room this morning and jumped into bed. Thirty seconds later he was back in the living room, playing with the 100-piece marble toy set that ManFriend gave him.

I can certainly understand some of what Zac is going through (minus the obsession with marbles and motorized toy trucks). I have some amazing friends that I don't get to see very often, if at all. Most of my friends live outside of Texas, even after five years of living here. It doesn't help that I work in an office where I sit alone in front of a computer all day. If I didn't go to the bathroom every so often, I could probably go an entire day with only talking to two or three people. By the time that I get to my study group on Wednesdays, I'm usually bursting to have adult, in-person, interaction. I feel like a puppy that's been sitting on the patio at a sliding glass door, barely able to contain its excitement to get inside the house and lick something. That's how much I want to talk when in a group of my peers.

I don't even have time (or I'll admit it - desire) to fold my laundry, let alone go out and meet people, but I can still feel an absence in my life. when Zac tells me he's lonely, I nod and say "me too" and we hug. Our professors are taking us out for a drink after class on Friday, which I'm looking forward to. It's possible that I like I might get to see...hmmm...now I've forgotten the nickname that I gave him.....oh, that's rather embarrassing. Well, I'll just say that I might get to see a friend that got married last October and lives in a suburb on the complete opposite side of Houston on Saturday, so that should be fun. Zac will be with my parents so hopefully there will be a little less loneliness all around.

Acquiescence

Ok, ok...I'll update. Goodness! I have a new reader who actively prods me to update, which is probably good for me since I've been a slacker on my blog lately. It's hard to remember that I used to update every day. I also used to talk about vomit a lot. That might have something to do with my posting frequency. In a wonderful, wacky turn of events, I get puked on so much less now. That might lend to my overriding feeling that I don't have much to say anymore, or the time to arrange everything in the way that I want to say it. It's easier to write about ear infections, puke, and developmental milestones than about my feelings or observations.

To get out of my passive role of blog reading and into a more active role as a writer again, I've decided to combine all three of my blogs (pregnantblogger, notsopregnant, and onbeing-andliving) on a new site. I'm really excited about developing five years' worth of blogs into a cohesive site and can't wait to start working with Dee on the project. I'm leaning now to going back to notsopregnant.com, but if anyone has any feedback, I'd love to get it. Maybe I should keep onbeing-andliving? Maybe I shouldn't look backwards and create a whole new domain name? Maybe no one reads this site anymore because I post so infrequently. I'm not sure. I'm torn. For now, I've settled with just changing my blog template and switching everything from the right-hand to the left-hand side. I'm a wild and crazy blogger, I know.

Speaking of unbridled wildness, Zac woke up early this morning. Last night he was so afraid that he was going to oversleep and miss his birthday. Papa and I assured him yesterday that we would wake him up, and that the sun doesn't need any help rising in the morning, but it looks like he wasn't going to be taking any chances. Zac and I got up and snuggled on the couch this morning and sang "Happy Birthday" to him well before the sun made an appearance. I now have the ridiculous, "How Old Are You?" song in my head. Hopefully you now have it your head as well. Consider that my gift to you.

People always post the "I can't believe my child is XXX number of years" blogs so I'm going to try and avoid doing that. However, I would be completely remiss if I didn't somehow mention that the little being that I gestated in my body for 9 months is now 4 years old. It is crazy. Sorry. It had to be said.

Every day Zac is growing and changing. He still loves to sing and always requests a duet with me whenever we are around music. The word "request" is a bit of a misnomer. Demand is more like it. He's an almost unflappably polite child except when it comes to asking for things. Instead of, "Please may I have..." I'm much more likely to hear, "I want juice." Then he'll just like at me like, "Woman, I have a need that you must fill. Get to that." If I don't respond to a statement he makes the first time, he'll inevitably ask for it again. "Mama, I neeeeeeed juice!" Then he'll go back to looking at me with a mixture of hope and sense of entitlement. I always ask him, "How do you ask for something when you want it?" and he'll respond dutifully, "Please may I have...?", but I'm thinking that my more conciliatory method of parenting isn't getting the point across. I may have to crack down on guerrilla demands by not responding at all to statements not made in the form of a question that begin with "Please".

But that day won't be today. Today, my little man turns 4 years-old and I couldn't be prouder of the person he's becoming, even when he forgets to be ask politely. He's funny, sweet, intelligent, and an incessant talker. His steady stream of words reminds me what it's like to find joy in the mundane and amazement in the middle of a daily routine. Happy Birthday, Zac.

Odds and Ends

• There is a new post over at the Writing Spot. I need some advice about why I'm feeling so hesitant in my personal life right now. Go on over and leave me a comment with your jewel of wisdom. Calling me a complete idiot is also completely acceptable in this case. I'd understand. If that doesn't peak your interest to click over and sign in, then I don't know what will. As always, e-mail me at onbeingandliving@yahoo.com if you want to access to that blog.

• In other news, I'm halfway done with my first module of my MBA. In the program you take two classes per module. Each module lasts about 6-8 weeks. I just finished "Crunch Week," which is where there are two weeks of classes that are held back-to-back. I had two tests in Microeconomics and two 5-7 page papers in Leadership due. I finished everything and already got my test grades back. It feels like a huge burden was been lifted from me knowing that I was able to complete everything and perform reasonably well. My self-doubt was really kicking into overdrive at the start of this program. I've been able to calm some of my fears and enjoy the material more.

• While school and work continue, Zac keeps getting closer and closer to turning 4. It's hard to believe that four years has gone by since he was born. I can remember, vividly, what it felt like to be pregnant and in labor with him on July 7th and 8th in 2005. We haven't decided what we are doing yet to celebrate the occasion. More than likely it will involve pizza and a ball pit of some sort.

• My roommate moved out last week. I actually miss him and I know that Zac misses him a lot. He got used to someone being there to play with him while I was reading, working on a paper, or trying (and usually failing) to keep the house from looking like a complete disaster.

• Some of my old blog posts will be making a reappearance on this site. I hastily took them all down, when really what I needed was to only take some of them down and to move some of them to my private blog.
  

Tweeny

Zac will be turning 4 soon and more and more I'm realizing how much older he is getting. It's like somewhere between 3 and 4 years-old he morphed into a teenager with his own sassy comments and opinions. Here are a couple of examples:

*I went in to check on Zac at 10pm, to see if he was asleep. Not only was he not asleep, but he was sitting on his bed, playing with his flashlight. He looked up at me and asked: "What is it?" like I had turned into the annoying parent who he must tolerate. I stammered, "Uh, nothing. Go to sleep. Good night." "Good night, Mama," he sighed and focused his attention back on his flashlight.

* We've been listening to the same "Wheels on the Bus" CD that we've been listening to in the car every morning for the past eighteen months. It's always the same CD, never anything different. On the way home from work/preschool, Zac wanted to listen to the CD. I can barely stand the music in the morning, especially when Zac orders to me to, "SING!" along. There was no way that I was turning it on in the evening. I told him no and he started negotiating with me. "But I want it," he said. "No. We listen to the CD in the morning, not in the evening. I'm not turning it on." "Please". "No, Zachary," this time with a sterner tone in my voice. "I want to hear a yes from you!" he argued (in my mind I thought, "What the hell? Did he really just tell me what to say?" "No! We aren't listening to the CD." He replied with a much beleaguered, "Awww, man. I'm too sad now".

The last phrase:"I'm too sad now" is one of his favorites. I probably get told that at least 3-4 times a day. Every time I tell him no he gets sad. Fortunately, it's short-lived and within a couple of minutes he's laughing or playing with his cars again. He's still fiercely loyal to his Mama and wants me to be involved in just about everything he does. Occasionally, I wish that he had a sibling or a good friend close by that he could play with. He seems to get lonely playing by himself all the time.

Here's what I wonder, though: if he's this opinionated at almost 4 years-old, what is it going to be like when he's actually a tween? Let's just leave to the side the actual teenager years, since I've already admitted that I'm not sure what I'm going to do then. I might start hiding in my room. Avoidance is a good parenting technique, right?

It All Goes to...

They warned us in orientation that if everything could go bad at once, it will. That thought flitted through my mind as I was hunched over a hotel toilet in the early morning hours in Wilmington, DE over the weekend.

It seemed like the worst possible time to go on vacation, even though I knew that I couldn't miss AEP's and Liz's wedding. My grad program had just started and I had just finished the first week of class. I found out that the second week of class required me complete a 5-7 page paper based on an interview of a leader and a quiz in microeconomics. In addition to school work, my actual job had exploded on me. I was asked to be part of a team to create a mental health program to address behavioral and emotional disorders on school campuses. Writing it out like that makes it sound easier than it is, considering the team has never created a program before and I haven't ever written about the finer intricacies of mental health, mostly because I don't work in the field. I can't describe the difference between cognitive behavioral therapy and psychodynamic therapy and why one model might be more appropriate to at-risk Hispanic adolescents than another. Every day at work was another round of meetings where we tried to hash out the details of the program. I was chosen as the person responsible for writing the first draft of the proposal, even without any clinical expertise. Somehow being a grant writer is supposed to make me adept at technical writing in any given field. I haven't exactly figured out how that works.

So, I was already checking into work every day and answering phone calls on vacation, in between trying to write a paper for my leadership class and catch up on economics reading. I was already the leader of Team Stress, getting sick just made it that much worse. Actually I take that back. What made it worse was getting sick in a hotel room that I was sharing with three other people. That was the worst part. There was nothing I could do to make myself feel any better and I knew I was waking up my friends every time I got sick.

Coming back home, I was still shaky and my throat hurt from getting so violently ill. I had to jump back into work and spend hours working with the clinicians on a draft of the proposal. I'm able to take a breath today, which is a nice change. I need to finish up my paper and get some grasp on the economic problems we were given before the quiz on Friday.

My thoughts keep going back to the wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony between AEP and Liz, held outdoors at AEP's parents' house. As predicted, I cried the whole time, actually starting during the signing of the ketubah before the ceremony and not ending until I filled my plate with prime rib. I wish that I could say that I cried out of the beauty of two people expressing their love for one another, but that wasn't why I was crying. I started crying realizing that without AEP in my life, I might be in a very different position right now. She's so significant in my life that I reached out to her when I was very sick, even without realizing what I was doing. Her concern and love has been such a constant in my life that it seemed natural for me to call her when I was at my lowest, if only because she asked me to. It was AEP that called my Dad and got me the help that I needed. I'm not sure how I can ever be grateful enough for that.

Thinking back on the relationship and friendship between AEP and me, I can vividly remember every city that we've been in together. We've criss-crossed America and parts of Europe together. The last time I was actually in Wilmington was when I was five months pregnant and had to attend an AmeriCorps training. She picked me up from my hotel and drove me to her parents' house so I could rest. I ended up falling asleep on the couch outside the kitchen as baby Zac moved restlessly inside me. It's moments like those that kept jumping to mind over the weekend with AEP and Liz.

I know that AEP and Liz will love and take care of each other with all of their hearts. I wish them the best of luck as they continue to build their life together.

Prayers

I've been praying a lot lately, which says something about the current state I'm in because I don't pray that often. Dew says that he can judge my emotional state by the amount of posts on my blog. He intuits a correlation between me feeling good and posting. I think there is a correlation between me feeling like there are enough hours in the day to post and actually having something to say. Recently, it's not that I haven't had enough to say, it's that I've there have been a lot of changes to my routine and it's been a difficult transition. I wish that my eyes and back would understand that I'm not actually out to get them. If my body parts could stop freaking out I would have a better chance of accomplishing everything that I need to accomplish.

I had my first weekend of classes on Friday and Saturday. My first two classes are Microeconomics and Leadership. There is more reading than is almost humanly possible for each class, in particular the Microeconomics which involves a lot of textbook reading in a small font. It feels a little like being back at Oxford, although now I have a full-time job and a child. There is also less bicycling and 14th century architecture in my current reality, which is really quite a shame, although being able to drive to the grocery store is a nice bonus.

Let's see...what else? I'm really just going to work, coming home, reading, and going to bed. It makes for a fairly boring existence and a not particularly interesting blog. One notable fact is that my friend Byron has been staying with me. He's in a tough situation and I volunteered to help him out. I almost feel like I've got a new roommate, although unlike my current roommate, this one doesn't pee the bed. That reminds me...does anyone have any advice on bed wetting? I wet the bed until I was 6 or 7 and now Zac is doing it probably 2-3 out of five nights. I not exactly sure on the frequency, but I know that I can't keep up with the amount of laundry he's producing. Last night ge said he was too scared to get out of bed and go to the bathroom because he didn't want to be in his room alone. I almost pointed out that the new roommate sleeping could have slept with him, but I didn't think he would appreciate the subtlety of my argument. He probably would have counter argued with: "He's not my Mom." I would have had nothing to offer at that point.

Just Kidding

Come on readers...I know that some of you have been around since the NSPIT days. Not one of you warned me that writing about potential love interests equals the kiss of death to the relationship? Not one of you! I'm ashamed. Really. My readers have let me down.

See? This is why I don't even like to admit that I'm doing better than fine. When I put down that I felt good about the relationship, I might as well admitted that my foot was on fire and that I didn't smell smoke. In this case, I overlooked MG's very recent physical separation from his wife. They are still legally married, but separated. It wasn't until recently that they moved beyond the roommate status to "we are officially living in two separate residences" status.

And I have rules about this sort of thing! After dating Mr. Tugboat through his divorce, I promised myself that I would only date people that were legally divorced because no matter how much they think that they are over it, they aren't. Divorce is traumatic. Lawyers usually get involved and kids have to adjust. People have to adjust to their spouses dating other people and potentially bringing other people into parent their children. There is a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. Even though I've never been married, I've seen enough destruction from divorce to know better than to put myself in the middle of it voluntarily. I used to think that I could help the person going through it, but I can't. Not while dating them at least. I know that much and yet, for some reason, I thought this time would be different. Almost as different ramming your head against a wall multiple times and expecting that it won't hurt. That kind of different.

So, MG and I were supposed to spend Memorial Day weekend together. Then Friday came and I got a text from him saying that his ex (what I liked to call his ex at least) decided to work overtime and wasn't going to pick the kids up until 10pm. He said he couldn't come over and I decided to hang out with R. and watch a movie. We were supposed to go out shopping before I worked at Pier 1 and he canceled that as well, saying that he wasn't sure what his ex was going to do. On Saturday, I got several texts from him saying how excited he was to hang out with me and finally get some alone time. The last one was around 3pm, while I was at work. About an hour later I get another text, this time about four hours before we had planned that he was going to pick me up from work and go out to a movie together. I'm not going to quote the text verbatim on here, but said something along the lines of, "I'm just not ready to be in a relationship and feel like I can't give you what you need...you are a special person....I need to be with my children and help them through this difficult transition...I just don't have the emotional capacity to be in a relationship right now".

Yes, I got dumped via text message.

I'm not trying to say that he didn't have very valid, well-thought out reasons for ending the relationship, it was the fact that I was texted these very valid, well-thought out reasons at work and dumped four hours before a date that really pisses me off. I texted him back and told him what he did was cowardly and that he at least should have talked to me. R. said that I was lucky he even told me at all, since most people just disappear. I have to argue, for the sake of humanity, that we hold people to higher standards than that. Certainly, I hope, that people have more decency than R. gives them credit for.

My parents had agreed to watch Zac on Friday and Saturday night so I could go out with MG. Instead of going out with him, I called R. again and he came and picked me up.

After my first beer at the restaurant, I started crying. By my third beer, I was glad that he was driving to the movie instead of me. I just felt so rejected, even if the reason that he ended the relationship wasn't about me, specifically. I can see that. I can also see that I got blind-sided and that I probably should have known better.