Time to Kill

Today, a miracle happened in my neighborhood, on my street, in my house, and personally to me.

The morning started off with homicide contemplation, or perhaps Murder-1 if it was contemplated? No matter, I wanted to not just run away from home, but move out of it altogether and leave everything behind. T just wanted to kill me, after I made a horrid comment about how I trained my Dad to not call me at 6AM...

So I started bitching in my journal, until I asked myself the question....what do I want?

I wrote: "I want a quiet, relaxing day." Now, I did not believe this would happen today, nor really until Sunday, because T's niece and nephew are in town until tomorrow, it's my day to have Ava, and three kids in one house does not make for quiet or relaxing. It's just not possible. As the time drew nearer to 7AM, when the two bonus kids (who are great kids, mind you) would arrive, I meditated for a minute to get a tiny bit of peace in my day, and couldn't drop the sense of forboding hanging over my head like a rain cloud.

7AM came and went, so did 7:30AM, at 8AM, the time T's mom had to be at work, I walked down to T and asked when the kids were showing up...he made a couple of calls and found out that his friend J would have them in the morning until T's mom got off work at 1PM.

What???? No kids until 1PM, and even then, only for maybe half an hour, at which point, Ava would go away too???

Someone heard me. Someone, somewhere, perhaps one of my angels, heard me say I wanted a quiet and relaxing day. Someone decided that it was a good idea to give it to me.

"Let's go to breakfast!" I suggested to T. We were up and out the door within minutes, headed to Boogaloo's in the Mission for breakfast where we lingered as if we had more time than oxygen. I drank three cups of coffee and had marvelous lemon cornmeal pancakes, T ate Huevos Rancheros and then ordered coffee cake. Ava behaved so marvelously, we weren't sure what to do with ourselves.

T posed the always-amusing question, "What if someone from the hospital called and said there was a mix-up and Ava wasn't really ours?"

He asked me this question after we had Ava for a week and I didn't care one way or the other. Now I care. Big time care. My eyes stabbed him with a dirty look. We both looked at Ava, who somehow really looks like both of us now and laughed. Sorry, if we're not your real parents, you're stuck with us anyway. I told him finally, "I'd have to see a blood test." Which meant I would also be following the blood sample from technician to lab to doctor to ensure it was definitely Ava's blood and nobody was trying to steal my kid by mixing it up with another kid's blood.

We had an easy day, a quiet day, when T's mom appeared and shuffled out all the kids, and the house was...silent. I had enough time before yoga to get a pedicure, and then I still had half an hour before yoga and I wandered. I was browsing through a second-hand kids clothing store, because it was there, when Becky called me and asked if it was a good time (to talk)...

Good time? It's a GREAT time! I have time to kill before my yoga class.

Then we both laughed, partly out of surprise, because I haven't had spare time since I started working...until today.

Thank you angels, I needed that.

Cheerios Time

Time, time, time, there never seems to be enough time.

Work could eat up days and days of my time, but they're only supposed to get three days a week. Instead I give them lots of hours in those three days that nearly adds up to a full week anyway...

Ava, she isn't so ravenous with my time, but she would love more than she gets. She would love if I was with her every day, every moment, apparent when she screams and shakes her head simultaneously as I'm grabbing my laptop case and walking towards the door. She also refuses to fall asleep until after I get home, most nights...

T needs some of me too. He's not as demanding, but I really LIKE being with him, maybe I can pencil him in between the shower and breakfast on the days I work.

And me? What about time for me where I escape from everyone else? That is precious, valuable time, almost impossible to give myself because I feel GUILT! I know it's dumb to feel guilty about this, I know I need to give myself time first so then I have energy and enthusiasm for everyone else, but I usually wait until I'm about to explode because I have been around too many people doing too many things for others and then I BLOW UP because there is a Cheerio on the floor.

Yes, I have blown up over Cheerios on the floor. I have also blown up because Ava is eating a 5 day old Cheerio that is on the floor. I have also blown up because we are out of Cheerios. Recently, though, I discovered that I very much prefer Trader Joe's O's to Cheerios. I've been buying Trader Joe's O's for a while now because at $1.99 a box, how can I complain, but then I was at the regular grocery store, and Cheerios were on sale for $3 a box so they ended up on my cereal shelf.

1 out of 1 Julie prefers Trader Joe's O's to Cheerios, and not just because she's cheap.

Maybe I'll have TIME to buy Trader Joe's O's on the way home...but I doubt it.

Do what you love for fun, not money

While I was blog-jumping this evening, as Ava crashed so early it made my head spin, I found a post on bluishorange.com that mirrored what I've been hearing all around me lately about friends having dissatisfaction with the job they're doing.

I wrote up a lengthy post in response, which I am posting here in hopes that when I need to read it again, I'll know where to find it, and maybe, just maybe, it will be useful to someone else too!

This boat most of us seem to be in must be a cruise liner for all the people it's holding. (The boat being people not liking their jobs, and not being able to do what they love for money...)

My Dad says often that work is something he does that enables him to do the things he wants to do - like travel.

I'm a part time paid employee at and a Mom who stays at home with her 15 month old daughter 4 days a week. Which job is better? The one where I get paid in money, or the one where I get paid in laughter?

It depends on the day. The money gives me an (artificial, perhaps) sense of worth, the laughter warms my heart and makes me feel like I'm making a difference to my precious little girl. In truth, I need both. My task really is to care about the job as little as possible, and to care about my daughter as much as I can without becoming dramatically overprotective. I don't love my job, but I wonder if I could since the birth of my daughter? I used to be a devoted workaholic in previous jobs, but not now, when I want to be home before bedtime.

In my mind, it's okay to have a job that isn't fulfilling or satisfying, as long as it's just a job. I make the fulfilling part of my life not the part I rely on for money. I need the separation of church and state (love and money). I tried mixing those once and I got creatively blocked.
If I was in anyway qualified to give advice, I would say this: do what you are able to do for money, just don't make your job your life. Do what you love for fun, because you love it, and if it makes you money, consider it a bonus.

What's the RDA of food for a toddler?

Ava decided tonight that eating was not something on her agenda. After a few days of eating processed food sprinkled over cookies, I cut up and steamed some butternut squash to give her body a needed dose of vitamins.

Did she eat it? This food that she usually scarfs down faster than you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious? Usually, I said usually, and gave it away. Of course she didn't. Nor did she eat cottage cheese, nor a granola bar, and for fun I threw a pesto tortelini on her tray, nope, not even that.

She did, however, take her non-stoppered sippy cup and dump all of the water down her chest.

I am not only at the end of my rope, I am not sure where the rope was to begin. Ava and I spent the day at the SF Zoo with her two cousins age 6 & 9, and they are great kids, as far as kids go, but I just don't have the tolerance for that much kid noise. I'm spoiled by having just the one pre-toddler making her brand of noise, and the silence that comes gift-wrapped when she falls asleep.

We did play a marvelous game on the way home - who can go the longest without speaking. Ava lost.

six squared

Happy Birthday To Me!

This birthday feels so uneventful, so un-birthday. Not in a bad way, just that there are no fireworks, no dancing girls, no parades. I am six squared today; I am three dozen; I am thirty-six years old.

My darling friend Becky gave me these beautiful Angel cards yesterday for my b-day, and the first one I picked said:

At this point in time you are where you are meant to be
Your life is a book already written

How reassuring it is to read a passage in a book that says I'm in the right place and I'm doing the right thing.

Tonight T picked me up downtown after work, without Ava, and we went to dinner. Now BA, going to dinner would be an every week event, but we went to a place that probably didn't have highchairs, and I really doubt had a kids menu. We had the best conversation and meal in a long time and came away...satisfied.

That's how thirty-six feels, really. Satisfying. Happy birthday to ME!

Introverts of the world, unite

Once I heard that one definition of an introvert is that he or she rejuvenates when alone and that an extrovert rejuvenates around lots of people. Although I never thought of myself as an introvert because I thought the definition had something to do with liking people, which I do, by this definition, I am a card-carrying member.

Last weekend I ran away from home. I love my boyfriend and my daughter, but the last time I was away from BOTH of them humans hadn't invented the wheel yet. BA (before Ava), when I lived by myself in a cute Victorian flat at the top of the hill in Noe Valley, I used to spend oodles of precious, delicious time by myself. I don't remember what I did during this time, just that the memory of it melts in my mouth like warm butterscotch.

I become a stress case when I commit to multiple social engagements in a week, and this weekend, against my internal alarm system warnings, I committed to two parties today, breakfast tomorrow, and some much needed girl time with my succulent friends. Of all of these, only the girl time was not getting removed from my calendar under any circumstance.

This morning though, Ava's nap resistance came in handy, because when we were finally on our way to the first event of the weekend, she fell asleep when I turned on the ignition and I arrived at the two-year-old's birthday party with the brilliant true excuse that Ava FINALLY fell asleep, and she really needed the nap, yada yada yada, and deposited gift for the birthday girl and was out the door, headed to the drive through taco bell I saw on the way there.

I would have loved to go to the party, but not two parties in one day, for people that are more T's people than my people. Please, that's enough to convince this card-carrying introvert to move to a log cabin at the top of a mountain.

Zippety Doo Dah

Today breezed by as I sat idly on a cloud, watching the world pass. Well, maybe not exactly, because I was quite busy with a new work client, but I was uncharacteristically positive. Now, mind you, I used to be positive most of the time, back in the days before Ava, before T, when I took all the Julie time I needed.

The world just seemed a bit happier today, and even the weather cooperated. It's nearly 11PM and our neighbors have not disappeared into the San Francisco summer fog. If I look outside, I would probably see stars. Stars! In July! In San Francisco! That NEVER happens.

It would appear that my 24 hours off, when I ran away from home, have brought me back to who I like being. For the first time in months, although I got home late from work and I was starving, being starving didn't catapult me into a horrid mood. I've been up since 5:30AM and I'm tired, but not miserably-I-should-have-gone-to-bed-at-9PM tired.

Is there that much magic in running away, even just for a night?

Turkey Meatloaf

I ran away from home yesterday and left Ava with her very capable, if not particularly willing, father. I am back, but don't know where they are. I am not so desperate as to call yet and find out.

My weekend can be summed up in:
Hotel $(more than I want to say)
Dinner solo: $50
(where I had a sampler of three glasses of wine, drank all of one, part of the others, an appetizer and dessert)
Gas to get there: $15

Time alone, to swim, read, write, and rest:
Dare I say it?
Priceless.

Then I came home, at first reluctantly, but bought the ingreds to make turkey meatloaf, found I didn't have a recipe, so as usual, made one up.

Julie's (TM) Turkey Meatloaf

1 lb ground turkey (pref mix white/dark, but all dark rather than all white)
2/3 cup oatmeal, whole or instant
1 large egg
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup catsup or ketchup, as you prefer
1/4 cup shredded zucchini

Scramble egg. Put all ingredients in a bowl and mix with fork or hands until, well, mixed. Put in loaf pan, the 8x4 size. Bake in 350 degree oven for 30-45 minutes or until meat thermometer says 165 degrees.

Note that my measurements are ALWAYS approximate, a bit more or a bit less of anything still works. Zucchini helps the whole thing from drying up like a swim suit left out in 100 degree weather. Why not beef? I don't like the taste of beef, although sometimes I'll tolerate it in hamburgers, I avoid it whenever possible.

No guarantees, expressed, hinted at, and especially written. I liked it, hope you do too.

Time zones

I used to work on the 32nd floor of a building on Market Street downtown and there were days when just the bridge would be fogged in, but the rest of the city would be clear. I always thought that if I was stuck in traffic on the bridge, I would think that everywhere was foggy by default, which is exactly how "so what" days feel. When I'm in one, I feel like I will be in it forever. I don't know it will go away if I just keep moving forward.

But I did something else to get this fog to lift before I got to work. I began to think of things I might care about and I realized I care about recycling.

Yes, recycling. I care that the aluminum can gets into the blue bin and not the black one. I care that it goes off into the great land of recycling and becomes something else. It doesn't sit in a landfill in another state, doomed to lie next to my next door neighbor's aerosol can.

So although I haven't figured out the whole purpose of my life in the last couple days, nor have I found what I'm looking for, I don't feel ready to sign up for anti-depressants, which is really convenient, because I don't believe in meds to solve problems in the brain.

The simplest words today proved to be the most profound. My yoga instructor reminded the class (me) today to be in the triangle pose I'm in now, even if we're in transition to half moon. I know, I've heard the same thing said by many different yoga instructors, but it's always appropriate. This, of course, sums up my life problem over the last week, at least.

I tell myself to be where I am - to have my mind and body be in the same time zone, at least, but they seldom are. My brain is at least 3 hours ahead of my body, that is, when it's not 2 hours behind. My brain keeps itself busy thinking about the work I should have done before I left, or the work I should be doing. Work seems so important in my workaholic trained brain that I put it before everything. Of course I can come in, of course I volunteer to help on my days off, of course I check my email and answer questions even though I'm only paid to work three days a week.

The only issue here is that it's not just about me anymore. The time I work at home when I'm not paid to work is time that I'm not spending with Ava. It's time that I'm not rolling a ball back and forth with her; it's time that I'm not tickling her or holding her upside down to get her to laugh. It's time I'm not in monosyllable conversation with her.

T reminded me this morning that I have worked every day this week, except Monday, right as I was about to open up my laptop and work as soon as he left for an early appointment. "This is supposed to be Ava's day," he said.

During the time it took him to go to Home Depot, I sent an email from my Treo saying that I couldn't do a task for work today. Five minutes later, I felt lighter, like there was hope in the murky world of my workaholicism and when Ava and I rolled a softball back and forth, both cheering when she rolled it back to me, my brain and body were enjoying the sun in Pacific Standard Time.

So What?

I have misplaced my inspiration. I have misplaced my motivation. I am living in the land of "so what" these days and I don't know how to move into the world of actually caring what happens around me.

I go to work, I fix computer problems, I work on things to resolve computer problems...so what.

If it's a work day I wake up, take a shower, get dressed, dry my hair, eat something, get in my car and go to work...so what.

If it's not a work day and it's Tuesday, I get Ava ready to go to My Gym at 9:15 so she can monkey-scoot around the play gym with a dozen other toddlers. They play good music, but so what?

If it's Wednesday, I run errands with Ava, buying things to put in the refrigerator that I won't feel like eating later, finding things at Target I don't need and will put back before I get to the check out line. I figure out if diapers are a better price at Target or at Costco - and buy them at Target because Costco doesn't carry Pampers anymore. So what?

Last weekend I went to Reno with T and Ava, and T's buddy, his wife, and two daughters. T and his buddy played golf, gambled, while all the girls looked for things to do in Reno. So what?

We had the best time, just T, Ava, and I, when we stopped in Truckee on the way home, and decided to find a park to throw a frisbee around. We both suck at frisbee throwing, so it's a good thing for both of us to do. We ended up at this strip of park on Donner lake, bs'ed with the people around us, Ava got filthy playing in the dirt with rocks and pinecones, and I was happy for a while. We even went and bought a little 3-person rubber raft which barely fit the three of us, so I guess they really meant a three kid raft, and paddled around the lake.

For bits and pieces of time, I care, but mostly I live in "so what." Does it really matter if I show up at work today, if those problems don't get solved by me today. Sure, because I'm going to let my team down if I don't. But really, it's so what.

Does it matter if I feed Ava healthy foods, keep her away from sugar and wheat, when everyone else feeds her junk anyway? Okay, T feeds her well. His mom feeds her as best as she can. But does it really make a difference?

I used to feel like I made an impact, like I made a difference in the world, like it mattered if I showed up. Now I feel "so what".