Shmesolutions

Inspired by others’ Facebook posts about the end of the year/decade and goals for the next one, I thought I’d do a little summary here. 

2010-2020 was no doubt the most dramatic of my decades, being as it brought me my children. But the 90s were a pretty tumultuous set, too, with me moving to LA and starting my event. Still, I’d say the decade you have your children is no doubt the most life-changing.

I once had a vision of myself at this age with no children and regrets. I know this would be true, because I know myself. And to think of all I would have missed out on! But here I am, a mother of two, and 47. I am content with (and grateful for) this. 

Short term goals? Weight loss, of course. I have been sucked back into contemplating intermittent fasting, based only on two things: 1) it’s something I haven’t tried, and 2) smart people I know swear by it. I am very skeptical - I don’t see how your body won’t just stress out and start holding on to calories if you periodically starve it like that; also, since it’s really just about reducing calories, why not just do that, since that’s the only thing that really works? But. Being as everything I try fails in the long run and I just keep gaining more and more pounds each year, what the hell - might as well try it. 

I’d like to say I’ll commit to more self care - getting my nails done, styling my hair, etc etc - but as long as I’m home alone all day I really don’t see the need. 

I’d like to start composting. Some people I know tried it and hated it. I may very well be one of those people. But again - I feel like I should try. Might encourage me to up my gardening game, which to be honest, has been a bit of a disaster.

My resolution to learn to knit has been wildly successful. I hope this year to improve and learn more skills - I want to break out of the safety of just basic knit stitch scarves and learn crochet, other stitches, and how to make sweaters and hats and other things, maybe even learn to read patterns. Since I get so much enjoyment out of knitting and have so much time in the evenings (and three more months of winter), this I think I’ll actually accomplish. 

Other than that, I just want things to continue on as they have - I want the kids to thrive, my relationship to continue, my businesses to survive AB5, the house to stay in one piece, etc etc. I want to get my first all-electric car when my lease is up in November. 

Decade goals? I want to pay off my house and second mortgage - both of these should be accomplished by 2026. It would be nice to be married. I want the kids to grow and find their passions and not understand why mommy was so sad when she was their age. I want the event to continue and stay relevant. I want the band to continue. It would be great to learn a musical instrument, but this may have to wait. I’d love to travel with girlfriends more. I’d love to charge into menopause with a plan to stay thin and healthy, but this may not happen for me, and I hope I can live with that. 

I want Trump and his cronies to be marched away in handcuffs. This may also never happen. But boy, would it be sweet. 

That’s it. Happy New Year, all, and new decade! 

....aaaaand....poop

Bobby’s started pooping his pants again. Oh, the familiar routine - Bobby starts looking/acting weird, I ask him if he needs to go to the bathroom, he admits in a whisper that he already did. Ugh. It’s happened at least once a day nearly every day this vacation - he’s clearly constipated despite daily Miralax. Last night I gave him a laxative. No poop in pants today - yet. He had a lengthy play date with no accidents, thank god. We’ll see how the rest of today goes, all of tomorrow, and our long flight day to Florida Wednesday. But it doesn’t bode well - vacations, time changes, unfamiliar surroundings, off schedule, strange food leading to exceptional pickiness - all of this spells disaster for the chronically constipated. Just when I thought we were done with all this. Now we have to go back to the old routine - forcing him on the toilet multiple times a day, cleaning out shitty underwear, threats, punishments, me at my absolute wits’ end. It’s a nightmare. One I thought was over. I wonder if this is ever going to be over or something we’ll have to deal with his whole life. He claims he just doesn’t feel like getting up to go to the bathroom - which tells me this is something he does have control over; it’s just some bizarre behavioral quirk. I keep telling him he’s almost eight, not two - this is not acceptable. We agreed the next poop accident he loses all screens for a week. Will he makes the effort and stop this? Who knows? 

In other news, out of nowhere it’s been brought to my attention that a new law passed in California requiring all employers to make their 1099’d independent contractors full employees could, worst case scenario, completely destroy both my band and my dance event. All of the people that work for both entities are independent contractors; I only use them a few hours a year. How can this be accurate? And yet that’s the law. And nobody knows anything, so trying to get a straight answer is impossible; I’ve emailed my two accountants but I’m assuming they won’t even be in the office for another week. My guess is there will be loopholes I can slip through - or, if not, worst case is I’ll be stuck with paying thousands in social security, worker’s comp, etc etc, which I could manage for the event; not so much for our band. I don’t like to be an alarmist so I’m hoping something will happen to save me - but if not...this could be the end of everything. I may need to move my event out of state; our band may not be able to even exist. I may have to move out of state, even. I can’t even wrap my head around how utterly devastating this could be. So I’m trying to assume the most likely scenario which is I just have to re-classify a few things to make it work, change some ways I file/do things, and that will be the end of it. 

It’s been a rough couple of days; now the little petty annoyances have become unbearable; I’m short tempered and depressed. But I’m going to try to rally soon - everything else is going my way, everyone is healthy (knock wood), we’re about to escape this relentless California winter chill for a little slice of summer in Florida, where I get to spend quality time with my sister, have people help with the kids, and not manage a household for a while. 

Also, Bobby built this 16 years plus LEGO set all by himself in two days. Not bad, eh?

So far, so good

So, I’m part way into my first ever three week winter break with no child care. So far, it’s not too bad. Honestly, not having to get up early and hustle kids through a morning routine is awesome enough that it’s actually worth then having kids around all day. The one negative is I haven’t figured out how to consistently exercise. I plan on hitting up the Y with their free child care a couple of days - but what I really want is to go on long hikes. Bobby could hang - but Theo would make me carry him after about five minutes. An excellent work out, perhaps, but not exactly what I had in mind. 

Today while the kids assembled LEGO sets, read, played on iPads, played with kiddie smart watches, and did bey blade battles, I knitted Theo a hat that I improvised:

I also made some lemon juice ice cubes, juiced every orange from our tree, took down and put away all the Christmas decorations, did laundry, fixed my non-working texting on my phone, sorted and stored new toys so they weren’t covering the floor in a sea of sharp nightmares, collapsed endless boxes, took out several bags of garbage, and generally tidied, all to avoid the real work of the moment which is completely updating my event website for next year. Fuck it, I’ll do it tomorrow.

Although we’ve had a mostly conflict-free Christmas, I definitely see how kids are not themselves on holidays. I keep reading reports of crying mothers, children sent to their rooms and presents threatened with being tossed in the garbage. It’s funny because as a kid I have no memory of holiday conflict; but maybe my mother was a boiling cauldron of rage and just hid it well...? Also, she was dealing with one compliant little girl and her much older sister, not two rambunctious boys close in age. Those two parenting experiences aren’t even remotely similar. Managing these two boys’ insane amount of energy is 99% of what I don’t like about motherhood and is 100% of the reason I need to take my breaks when I can. 

On my list for next year is stemming the massive tsunami of plastic crap. The BF as always went nuts and spent thousands of dollars on an insane amount of toys, most of which will be forgotten and abandoned within a week, which I then have to find a way to “manage” (ie dispose of in the least environmentally offensive way possible). I realize he’s a compulsive shopper and probably still feels the need to buy affection from them...but I’m really going to try to put my foot down next year. I’m going to try to set a limit - going with the four gift rule: “something to wear, something to read, something they want, something they need”. Can I stick to this...? I don’t know...but I’m terrified of raising spoiled, entitled kids who think money grows on trees and don’t appreciate anything. I’m going to try a “please no gifts” policy for their birthday - or maybe think of something small everyone can bring, or a donation to a charity, or something else. I plan on having a big dual birthday party again and the thought of sorting through hundreds of pieces of cheap plastic crap again positively makes me cringe. There’s got to be a better way. 

Christmas Eve eve eve eve eve eve

One more day of school! This has been my countdown chant every day. Thankfully Bobby’s teacher has not assigned homework this week (I kind of love her) and as of Tuesday I’ve given up trying to make Bobby practice violin. The kids are so impossibly keyed up that getting them to do anything at all is a monumental task. I don’t know how teachers manage kids on these weeks before breaks/holidays. Or the weeks after, for that matter. Or any time, now that I think of it.

Yesterday I helped out at Bobby’s class’ potluck. I brought decorations on a whim that were admired by all - not so my utter failure of a spinach/hummus wrap Christmas tree (too many things went wrong there to count - Bobby very sweetly ate some and claimed to like it). Today I wrapped about 10,000 presents. I don’t know how people do all these things while working full time jobs. My hat is off to you. 

I booked a five day trip to Cancun in February with a friend who’s taking time off before starting a new job. I’ve never done the resort Mexico thing - I’ve only ever visited relatives or gone down the Baja peninsula camping (back when it was relatively safe). I can’t wait to swim in cenotes and see pyramids. I think it will cure my not-traveling-with-the-band blues until things pick up again in April.

Right now I’m playing cat-and-mouse with my bank account. I’m down to my last $4000 but need to make it past Feb 1st. Booking this trip helps because I can let it sit on my credit card while being paid back by my friend; I also have rent money from the BF and a small surplus in another bank account I can transfer in and then return later. I hate that I’m going to start the year with an unpaid credit card - but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Monday I enjoyed the boys’ Christmas show - Bobby sang the chipmunk’s song and Turn, Turn, Turn; Theo sang Madonna’s Holiday. 

Holiday...celebrate...

Speaking of celebrate, the orange menace has been impeached. We’ll still be stuck with him, I have no doubt - but YESSS. The BF and I dragged the kids out in the cold the night before to attend a rally and then get Chinese food. It’s their first moment of political engagement. I hope they remember it with pride.

Mid December

So far, it’s been the most relaxed Christmas season I can remember for some time. Admittedly the kids are way too high energy for me at the moment - excitement about the coming holiday, no doubt; last night it took Bobby an hour to do one page of math homework. I hope his teacher doesn’t give them any homework next week - she didn’t the week before Thanksgiving, and it was amazing the difference it made to our evenings. I despise homework. Ideally I’d like at least the second half of next week to involve cookie making and Christmas movies. We shall see.

I’ve been doing a good job chipping away at my various crafting projects. I feel like I’ve done more sewing and knitting in the last week than I’ve done in my entire life. I finally found the time to make the BF a “daddy” stocking. It’s always been a glaring absence - the three of us with homemade stockings with our names on them and him with a random grey sock from my grandparents’ house. A few years ago I would have bristled at this; after four and a half years I do believe he’s earned it. It’s his worst fear, being not included and tossed out; it’s my worst fear opening myself up to someone and being used or hurt by them. Together we’re working on it.

I’ve been particularly weepy lately. I’m not sad - just...weepy. Sentimental. Hormones? Perhaps. Many of the women in my book club last week were talking about their peri- or menopausal hormonal issues; so far I feel ok for the most part, but I’m very much aware that my life as a menstruating woman is coming to an end, and with that will come many unwelcome changes. I always felt my mother’s downward spiral began at menopause, and I have a terrible fear of this. That I’ll become unrecognizable to myself, that I’ll change into an object of loathing. But, I’ve thought this at many transitional moments in my life - most notably, when I sobbed for the entirety of my tenth birthday, convinced I was going to be somehow lost. And yet here I am at 47 and I am still someone I know and like. Surely if puberty, womanhood, moving across the country, having two children, and being in my first real adult relationship haven’t changed me for the worse then I doubt a little thing like a hormonal shift will. I suppose it’s the classic fear of the control freak that you’re always one breath away from completely losing it. And yet you never do. It’s like the door that’s never left unlocked and the oven that’s never left on. And yet you worry about it nevertheless.

This weekend is full of dancing and gigs and parties and dressing up. Let’s hope that kicks my broody ruminating back a bit.

Holiday #2, check

It’s funny how much easier it is to cook Thanksgiving dinner for nine people when you have a kitchen.

Over two days I made:

Apple pie

Pumpkin pie

Mashed potatoes

Stuffing

Gravy

Cranberry sauce

Rolls (yeasted - from scratch!)

Thyme butter carrots

Mushrooms in cream

Brussels sprouts with butternut squash and walnuts

Real whipped cream

The BF bought a bbq’d turkey that he heated up out in the rain at the bbq. Glad I didn’t have to share my small oven, which ran almost continually for two days.

My sister and brother in law came, as well as his nephew, the nephew’s wife and three-year-old son. Absent was the BF’s sister, around which there was some drama. Most of the drama was in my head, but still, yeah. Let’s just say it was a very pleasant evening and visit until I had to cut it short by leaving for DC to sing at an event on Saturday until I got home late Tuesday night. 

This is an event we’ve had for years, but since they moved to Thanksgiving weekend, it will probably be our last. Most of our musicians just aren’t willing to sacrifice family time. The event for me was extremely stressful - I spent most of it when I wasn’t working in my hotel room with social anxiety, and the rest of the time trying to frantically memorize song lyrics as it’s become plain to me that bringing ragged pieces of paper with lyrics to read while singing is no longer acceptable. It was a habit I got into when I had babies and was so horribly sleep deprived that I couldn’t remember anything...and it became kind of a crutch. There are songs I’ve been singing for five years that I still can’t remember. But I’ve been forcing myself to remember now, which is hard, because I always have that panic on stage that I’m going to blank out (sometimes I do). However, I feel like I have the mental bandwidth these days to take on these formerly low-priority tasks.

The long Thanksgiving week with kids off school went just fine, and gave me confidence that I can handle kids all winter break with no camp. It’s only the week of Christmas - which will be easy because there’ll be lots to do, and for part of it the boys will have new toys to play with; then a few days the following week before we go visit my sister in Florida until the end of the break. Bam. 

With the changing of the weather (LA goes from 80s and sunny to 50s and rainy pretty much overnight, and always right around now) I’m keen to throw myself back into my knitting projects. I’ve been using this tool called a lucet - a medieval braiding tool - to make a tree garland; next I need to get off my duff and try knitting the boys hats, which is scary because it’s a whole new skill set I don’t have yet (so far I’ve only made scarves and wash cloths). 

The boys are now dry about 90% of the time. It’s funny to think after all that agide about getting them out of pull-ups, the solution was simply doing it and putting up with wet beds for a few weeks. I gave away the diaper pail to a pregnant friend last week, along with my old ergo and mei tei carriers and baby monitor. I kept the tiny newborn carrier. Soon the boys will outgrow their baby onesie blankets my sister made; Bobby’s is literally falling apart. I have plans to get them duvets and new sheets now that it’s less likely they’ll pee on them. 

This weekend we finally put up our lights and get a tree, and I need to get to work buying presents and making candy for various events. Holiday #3, let’s do this!

Thanksgiving week

I’m still malingering in bed and it’s nearly 10 AM. This, my friends, is the luxury of children who can dress themselves and entertain themselves in the morning when there’s no school. This is not a luxury I take for granted, not one bit.

We had both kids’ parent teacher conferences last week. Much to my delight, both kids got stellar reports. I wasn’t sure about Theo since he’s new at school and had gotten in trouble for punching a kid in the back a few days before - an incident his teacher didn’t even remember, thankfully - but his teacher said he was doing well but just needed to settle down and not socialize so much when they were doing mat time (she said the same thing about Bobby two years ago). Bobby’s teacher said he was a joy to have in the classroom. It’s funny; when you’re with your kids all the time, sometimes you only see their faults (the whining, the fighting, how hard it is to get them to do anything), but then given the perspective of one who works with large groups of kids all the time, you see how well-behaved your kids really are. In this moment, I’d like to express gratitude for kids who are healthy and doing well. Another thing I do not take for granted.

I just got back from a weekend in Austin singing; next weekend I go to DC. Then short of a quick stint to Nor Cal in January, I have no trips until end of April. I’m hoping to take that time to try to diet and work on the garden. I feel like every conversation I have with every woman my age is about how we all don’t like the weight we’re at but can’t seem to lose any and how frustrating it is. For now I’ve downgraded my expectations to trying not to gain any more before the end of the year...which is tough considering there’s Thanksgiving and Christmas in the way. But I am at my highest weight right now - and have been for most of this year. I’m torn between wanting to just settle at this weight and be ok with it, or really make an effort to lop off ten pounds and stay there (that’s the hard part). Either way I managed to look probably the best I’ve ever looked this weekend, which was a great ego boost. I may be middle aged and flabby and aging disgracefully, but at least I can still clean up pretty good!

I am a domestic goddess

So often these days I think about what life was like last year - no kitchen, cooking on a hot plate in my spidery laundry room, everything from the kitchen cabinets stacked all over every other room in the house. I had a four year old and a six year old, both going to different schools. It was stressful. And the only thing that kept me going was imagining now - a year later, with a completed and paid for kitchen, kids at the same school and a year older.

And here we are. And I am leaning in and enjoying every minute of it. I’ve been on quite a baking spree lately, making apple crisp, a Dutch apple cake, and persimmon cookies; next up I want to make persimmon freezer jam and start making bread. 

The boys have been extra energetic lately and the only thing I can attribute it to is the nightly Halloween candy. I only let them have a couple of pieces a day after dinner, but...I’m starting to wonder if this is why they’ve been so loud and boisterous (one night last week I just had them go in their room to play after dinner; I couldn’t handle the yelling and thrashing around one more second). I’m considering throwing the rest of it out. 

In better news, both of them are having more instances of being dry at night than not. Theo is down to maybe one wet night every 7-10 days; Bobby’s at maybe two nights a week (where Theo was a month ago). Is this all it takes to get kids to stay dry at night - just tolerating a few months of constant bed wetting until they stop...? At any rate, I’m pretty delighted. It was definitely one of the things I felt a lot of shame and failure about (and perhaps they did, too) - now there isn’t anything about them that I feel is behind their peers. Is sleep away camp in our future...?

This week I’m having the two house projects I can *kind of* afford done - removal of my long-peeling bathroom wallpaper and application of new (old) wallpaper, see below, and painting my bedroom so I can finally hang some pictures and finish that room, three years later. I found a kick-ass female handy woman to do these things for me. Very excited about that. 

Budapest

Returned from my second and possibly last trip to Budapest. For the next three years the event will fall on Halloween; I had spent countless hours of mental energy trying to figure out how to make this work - maybe miss one Halloween but then have the band use another singer for the other two, try to shift the nights we play off the weekend, try to at least be home for the kids’ school parade if not actual trick or treating, etc - but then our drummer bailed me out by emailing that he’d have to give next year a pass to stay home for his kid. Thank you, loyal family guy. 

I had (and still have) a horrific guttural cough the whole trip, which made singing three nights in a row pure torture. Lots of water, tea and cough drops helped somewhat, but I mostly survived by convincing myself not to cough while singing, which was very difficult and mentally draining. Still, the trip was enjoyable. I love the city, and enjoyed a good parboil at one of the local thermal baths. I’m sad we’ll miss it for several years (possibly forever, if they forget about us), but hey - we got a good offer for Spain the weekend after for next year, so there’s that.

Miracle of miracles, both boys have been dry the last three nights. Somehow Bobby just stopped peeing after weeks of wet pjs. I don’t trust it - Theo’s been out of pull-ups since the summer but still seems to wet the bed once or twice a week, but we’re clearly making progress. I’ve been all over the map with this night training stuff - having been told it’s a mind-body connection and they’ll do it when they’re ready, but then coming to realize they’ll never do it as long as they have the convenience of a pull up to pee in and finally just having to force the issue at 7 1/2 and 5 1/2, I can honestly say I wish we’d done this way sooner. Of course the reason I didn’t was because of B’s horrendous encopresis, which, by the way, has not been an issue since he learned to squat on the toilet seat back in July. So, hallelujah there. 

I’ve been interested in this theory called the four tendencies about personality types. While I take all of these things with a huge grain of salt, I have to admit I’ve always known I’m a rebel type - I have to do things my own way and on my own, I’ll reject things others like or want me to like just because, I enjoy being a contrarian just to shock or annoy people. I’m not saying any of this is something to be proud of; I’m just saying it is. And I definitely see these qualities in Bobby, which makes me equal parts smugly proud and scared. I’m convinced his issues with toilet stuff - the encopresis and delayed night training - are a big part of this. He wants control over his body and he’ll do things on his own time no matter what you want. It’s frustrating as a parent, but I get it, as it is me. Why he’s decided now that it’s time to be dry at night, I don’t know. But I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. If it’s finally time to stop buying expensive pull-ups at the grocery store and wipes and keeping the diaper genie, I’m utterly delighted. 

Hallowe’en

A brief post while I sit in the airport waiting for my flight to Budapest. We had a swell Halloween with the kids dressed as Batman villains. I was surprised by how few jokers there were. Kids’ Halloween parade at school was held inside due to terrible breathing conditions from our entire state being on fire (nothing threatening us, thankfully); I helped out at a pot luck for Bobby’s class, and then we trick or treated at our favorite spot in Eagle Rock. Then up at 4 AM for my flight. Phew!

Bordeaux

I’m currently in between European trips and have over-volunteered myself for Halloween-related activities because apparently I’m a masochist. I’m determined to be more active in the boys’ school - I’m going to help set up a booth at the Halloween carnival tomorrow, and am bringing a big bag of supplies.

I got back from Bordeaux Monday - it was a real nail biter; I returned Monday afternoon but the BF left for a business trip (first time ever) Sunday morning. Thankfully our intrepid babysitter just happened to be available to fill in the gap; but I had to be on time to pick them up from school Monday. Had there been any delays we would have been screwed. But I got home, lay down for an hour and then went to get them. It all worked out.

Bordeaux was great - I haven’t been to France since I went to Paris in 2005 to chase a Craig’s List relationship. I really, really like it there. It’s so damned civilized. I love how everyone greets each other (“bonjour madame!”), I love how you’re allowed to linger in restaurants, I love how old and pretty everything is. The best thing, though, was as the sole French speaker in our band of seven, I was made the group interpreter, and it was very empowering. At one point I managed to hold a conversation with the organizer’s stepdad who didn’t speak a word of English; I love languages! 

I won’t be so lucky next week in Budapest! Thankfully our American pianist has deep roots in Hungary and speaks the language. Not that everyone didn’t speak English last time we were there, anyway. 

Here are some France highlights:

Pumpkin patch!

Had a fun day with the donor sibs at the pumpkin patch today - came home and made jack o’lanterns and roasted pumpkin seeds. I’m going to try not to eat them all tonight!

Spoke too soon

Well, Theo started peeing the bed again. Sigh. So I put him back on the alarm...which he didn’t seem to need, since as soon as the alarm was on he stopped peeing the bed. At least I think so - today I found pee soaked underwear and PJ pants shoved in his drawer. Double sigh.

The few nights I had Bobby on the alarm were pretty disastrous. He peed 4-5 times a night, with me getting up to help him change each time, leaving me exhausted and cranky the next day all week. When Theo needed the alarm back it was kind of a relief - B is back in pull-ups for the time being; I am not optimistic that the alarm will be successful for him. He has a similar attitude about this that he did with the constant pants pooping - that it doesn’t really matter because he can hide it, that I’ll just clean it up anyway (even when I had him cleaning his own poopy underwear). Is it a defense mechanism? Is he afraid of failure? Do I just have to wait until he decides to do it, like he did with the pooping? Am I raising a rebel type child like I was (am)? Can nobody be the boss of him? 

In the meantime, I am leaning in and trying to be present for this holiday season - the house is decorated for Halloween, I’m plotting a Thanksgiving menu, trip to Florida to visit my sister over winter break is booked, I’m volunteering at the kids’ school Halloween carnival and making monster Rice Krispie treats for Theo’s class bake sale. I’m trying to make your childhood fucking magical, dammit! (J/k)

This weekend I had a rare creative parenting moment by dragging the kids out into our neighborhood for a geocaching session that was largely successful - we found three out of four. We also touched a lot of garbage and got minor heat stroke. But hey, we had lunch, learned about our area, used our brains, and spent time together. Win, win. 

Pee

So, I think a small miracle has happened in our household. After spending much of the summer with Theo not in pull-ups at night, and consequent peeing the bed every single night (don’t even ask how much frigging laundry this was for me, ugh!) I invested $30 in a “pee alarm” from amazon and decided to do a “four day challenge” - if Theo could stay dry four out of five nights, I’d give him $5. 

The first three nights he peed the bed every night, once three times in one night. Mind you this is with the normal restricting water before bedtime/peeing before bed/etc. In fact the first night the alarm didn’t even wake him up but woke me up in another room. I had read in the reviews that it could take up to six months to work, so I was ready for the long haul. Although I have to admit being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night was an unpleasant reminder of baby/toddler years - a phenomenon I have zero interest in ever returning to. 

Then, Sunday night, he stayed dry. Also Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. In fact last night we didn’t even bother attaching the alarm. He doesn’t wake up to pee in the night - he’s just suddenly become capable of holding it while sleeping. Is it an anomaly? Maybe. I won’t feel secure in this until it’s been a couple of weeks at least. But for now? I do believe we have one child finally out of pull-ups!

What does it all mean? How does it work? I don’t know for sure, but I think the sheer annoyance of the alarm kicks kids’ sleeping brains into deciding that letting the pee out is a bad thing. Aversion therapy? Maybe! Whatever, it works!

Bobby is next, and I can tell he’s scared of failing. He may have a totally different experience. He has those constipation issues, and he’s had two more years of habitually peeing into pull-ups all night and not having to get up. I’m not going to hold my breath that the alarm will even work for him. But like all things - getting pregnant, breastfeeding - you have to at least try.

Speaking of constipation issues, since Bobby figured out to squat on the toilet seat back in July he has had zero poop accidents. I don’t even have to make him poop before school anymore, which makes our mornings much easier. Is it possible that after nearly eight years my parenting life will no longer be completely dominated by poop and pee? Can it be true??

In other news, I finally bit the bullet and handed off my SMC meeting duties to the group to see if anyone wanted to take over. I’m actually pretty shocked that many of the women have stepped up to revitalize and improve on the group, running surveys to assess the needs of the group, etc. Maybe this is just what the group needed is some new eyes and new energy to make it better. Most of my meetings were pretty sparsely attended, so I never tried very hard. I figured there just wasn’t much need or interest. But hey, if a group of new people can do a way better job than I’d been doing, great! 

I also met with a friend and teacher at my event yesterday to pick her brain about my classes at my event. She had lots of great advice, some of which involves firing people. But I agree with all of it. Certain things I’ve been doing for several years have outworn their relevance, and new ideas need to be brought in. So now I’m in the hiring and firing phase. I’ve got some unpleasant emails to send, but it’s all going in a good direction. If I can get a few things confirmed in the next couple of weeks, I could have my entire event finalized in October. Awesome! 

Pushing boundaries

The post-event fog is lifting, a bit. In the meantime I’m trying to do those things that make me feel present and appreciative of the time I’m in - like, hey, both kids are in school! The event is over and I don’t have to do anything for a while! It’s the end of summer and the holiday trifecta is coming up! Rejoice! Those things are embarking on new knitting projects (I’m going to attempt hats for the boys - something I’ve never tried before), cooking, getting the house in order, planning ahead.

One big damper I’m dealing with is the fact that not only do I not have enough money to do the siding on the house, but much to my shock I don’t even have enough money to live on until the income comes in again. How on earth did this happen, on this the biggest turnout year I’ve had? The only thing I can think is that it’s just been a really expensive year - it was front loaded with the kitchen, and there have been lots more expenses (buying a business, travel, expensive yard work, budget for the event going up); it’s like death by a thousand paper cuts, every little thing adds up. I’m really upset and disappointed. I need to bolt the house to the foundation, and the first estimate I got is $23,000. Ouch. Everything is going to have to wait until February. Sigh. 

After weeks of nightly bedwetting, I bought a “pee alarm” for Theo. We’ve used it the past two nights. Pretty much all that happens is Theo pees and sleeps through the alarm in his pee until I go in there and turn it off. I’m skeptical this will ever work. I mean, it goes off once they’ve already peed - how is this going to teach him to get up and pee before he pees? How do you “make” a kid learn how to hold his pee while sleeping? The BF thinks it will annoy Theo enough that he’ll learn to get up and pee. We’ll see! I guess it’s better than not trying anything...right?

Bobby is in a boundary pushing phase. The other night when I told him for the thousandth time that he was wasting his own time by fooling around during violin practice, he actually said to me, “why do you always say the same stupid things to me?” I gave him the look of death, told him, “You’re not allowed to talk to me like that,” and told him I repeat myself all the time because he doesn’t listen. Then I couldn’t help but remember all the downright cruel comments I made to my mother when I was a kid, and my face burned with shame. Why do kids do these things? Why did I? Who knows? Because they’re kids. 

This weekend is a milestone for me - I’m actually going to volunteer at the kids’ school, at a yearly pancake breakfast. I’m on the cleanup crew. I also joined the PTA, although who knows when, if ever, I’ll be able to attend meetings or actually participate in anything. The next general meeting is the day I leave for Bordeaux, as is the middle school fair, which kills me. But I keep hoping for this mythical time when I’ll actually have time for things. Sigh.

School daze

Tonight I survived my first attempt at helping Bobby do new math. Barely. I’m not one of these stodgy old people who says, “this is crap! They should learn it like we learned it!” because I know math is about teaching you how to think, not just memorizing times tables. So I get it. But not having been in a math class since the 80s - and that math having been entirely different from this math - well, it’s the blind leading the blind, really. 

It’s only been a handful of nights of doing full evenings with the kids - dinner, homework, violin practice - and I have to say...it’s rough. I don’t know why this was easier last year; maybe I was more in the zone and less exhausted and out of it than I am now. But it’s quite the marathon and quite like herding cats. I wish they were more independent...but they’re not, yet. 

Theo has decided he wants out of pull-ups at night...which means he’s been peeing in the bed all night every night. I am still at a complete loss as to how to get these kids night trained. Yes, even 7 1/2 year old Bobby is still in pull-ups. Everyone I talk to about it says their kids “just decided” they were ready and magically stopped peeing at night. What do you do if your kids never decide they’re ready? Am I going to be one of those people that has teenagers still in adult diapers at night? Out of desperation I’ve bought a “pee alarm”, since it appears the problem is these kids sleep so deeply that they just don’t wake up to pee or even when they’re wet and cold. They just don’t seem to notice or mind. What do you do with that?? I’m skeptical the pee alarm will work, but I feel like it’s one thing we haven’t tried, so why not? Maybe it’ll be a magic bullet, maybe not. Maybe one day they’ll just decide they’re ready. Who knows? 

Post-con

So, event number 22 is done. 

It went well. And I picked up a lot of people at the door, which is unusual - bringing my total weekend pass buyers to about 1450, which is a record. Again I think back to the days of 700 attendees and how huge that felt...and we’re only two events away from our 25th anniversary, which I’m sure will be extra nuts.

The only issues this year were major problems with air conditioning at the hotel, and some floor slippage with the dance floor. Other than that, it was business as usual. 

This was the first year since setting up a Code of Conduct and bringing on board a Safety Team that we actually had no safety issues. The BF and I were discussing it last night and we felt that it’s #metoo that’s made the difference - everyone is hyper vigilant now, and the culture has finally caught on that trying to get young girls drunk so you can sleep with them is, in fact, not ok. The Wild West nature of these events from 10-20 years ago seems to be mostly gone, and good riddance. I believe it’s a huge part of why my numbers have steadily increased. 

My head is swimming with all the closing up work that still has to be done, but for now I’m going to get rest where I can and slowly ease back into family life. One thing I’ve been putting off for ages is handing off my job as organizer of monthly Single Mom by Choice get-togethers. It’s hard for me to give that up since I’ve been doing it since Bobby was a baby, and it’s sort of my last tie to the world of SMCs - once you’re long past the TTC, pregnancy, and new baby stuff, your mind just isn’t there anymore; and I feel a bit of a hypocrite with a live-in boyfriend for years. I don’t know the struggles of raising two boys alone since I haven’t done that in four years. All the things that would be issues now - the big kid questions, birthday parties and family tree projects - I managed to avoid just by the mere presence of a man in their life. Every month goes by and I just forget to put a group together because my brain is somewhere else (and a weekend day with no plans is a rare entity these days); it’s time to close up shop. It’s hard to let go of that piece of my identity, though, I’ll be honest. 

Crunch week

The boys started week two of school today. They were supposed to be issued homework...but none came home with them today. God, I hate homework. I’m hoping that with no school Friday they just won’t be given anything this week. They’ve both done well so far. I have to say, as much as I had looked forward to this summer and getting up later and not having to rush out in the morning to school every day...the summer was a bit of a mess. The boys were all nuts with the lack of structure, stayed up way too late, and things were generally chaotic. I for one am welcoming the settling nature of school, even if it means getting up an hour earlier. 

I got the good news today that the main ballroom will, in fact, be available for my event. I had suspected as much; after 24 hours of diarrhea after our first conversation, and after making a “plan B”, I decided to just put it out of my mind. Things had started to look up for the renovations the day after they called me. How I wish they’d waited 24 hours!

Tonight I close registration; for the next three days I continue my 24 hour work cycle until we pack up and leave for the hotel Friday morning. I’m pretty over the constant customer service, but it’ll be over soon. Every minute of my life is scheduled until next Tuesday. Part of me can’t wait to wake up and have nothing to do; part of me remembers how empty it feels. It’s complicated. 

First Day

Today was the first day of school. I’m pleased to say that despite the various cluster-fs going on right now I was able to be present and feel the weight of it all. Some day we’ll be saying goodbye forever to this special little school, and that thought makes me profoundly sad. 

With one kid in half-day kinder and two orientations to attend, I just hung around the school listening to the same presentation twice and then picked Theo up at 11 AM. We had lunch with a friend and then picked Bobby up at 2:30, jumped in the pool, made “hand pies”, got through dinner and bedtime, I filled out teams of paperwork for each kid, and then had a mere hour to answer all the emails that piled up today. Tomorrow I have to be out of the house all day while the cleaning lady is here, so won’t get any quality time for work then, either. Six days away. Sigh.

Theo did great - I’m always sad for the parents who’s new kindergartener cries or clings (there were quite a few of these). I’m continually amazed by the confidence with which these boys march through the world. White men, amirite?

I’m pleased to say my “oh my god my baby is growing up and I feel like someone ripped my heart out” freak out was, in fact, restricted to only last year. It really must have been more related to my mother’s recent horrid death than I realized.

Bobby’s new teacher is super friendly and apparently has three boys at home. I think we have a winner. 

This was Bobby’s take on school today:

Theo, the cutie patootie:

And obligatory stoop picture:

Making the hand pies. It was a total mess but worthwhile for how rarely we do these family projects. I’m pleased to say I did not partake, also managed to squelch Theo’s desire to eat all the cherry filling with a spoon before it even made it to the pastry:

And that was it. It was a good day and I’m pleased to get the real school year rolling - tomorrow is Theo’s real first full day, and both boys will go to afterschool together for the first time. Yay! 

Eight days

Tomorrow is the first day of school. This is the moment I had in my mind - my youngest starting kindergarten - through every pregnancy twinge, toddler meltdown, or pre-schooler rambunctious moment. Fall of 2019. Here we are. I’m trying to get everything in place and focus on this moment - but life has really thrown me some unpleasant curve balls lately.

Last Wednesday the hotel where I hold my event called to tell me that their renovations of the ballrooms where I hold my dances have stalled and I need to be prepared that I may not have a place for my event. WHAT. I had a major freak out and spent the day re-configuring the entire event to squeeze into their smaller conference rooms. I went there the following morning to have a look - by then the elusive electrical inspector had approved the permit and things were moving again, so it wasn’t looking quite so dire...but even now there is still a chance I won’t have the space I need for my event. So I’m very on edge and stressed. This is the kind of thing that could be torture to endure for the weekend and ruin my momentum moving forward. I’m just taking it day by day at the moment. Which is scary when there’s only eight working days left before d-day.

Then I went to Chicago this weekend for a singing gig and instead of arriving home Sunday night to unpack and relax and do a little work, ended up stranded in Atlanta overnight due to flight delays and got home at ten this morning. Luckily the BF took time off work and took the kids out so I could sleep and get myself together; but even then I stumbled through a Bobby doctor appointment, skipped his guitar lesson, fed them dinner, got all their school stuff labeled and sorted, gave them baths, while barely functional. I want to be there emotionally for this big moment in our lives. Maybe tomorrow will have to be that moment. 

Also, I kind of already had my “my baby’s growing up!!!” freak out last year when Theo started ETK. Maybe I’ll be spared that this year...? I guess we’ll find out in about twelve hours!

Last week

It’s the last week of summer camp. Already “first day of school” posts are appearing in my FB feed. Next Tuesday, that will be me.

I see friends my age that are on the opposite spectrum from me - here I am about to welcome my youngest to his first day of (real) school; some friends are on their last child’s last first day of school. That will be me in twelve years. How different life will be then! I’ll be (nearly) 60, hopefully my event will be in its mid-30s, hopefully my house will be long paid off. But here we are, at the beginning. This is the date I’ve had in my mind for years, dangled before me in the worst of the toddler days - fall, 2019, the year both my kids are in school.

I don’t mind admitting I felt slightly panicked this morning, thinking about it. What on earth am I going to do in just three weeks when my event is over and both kids are in school all day? Won’t I be bored and lonely? Well, somehow last year this wasn’t an issue - the time always manages to fill up. I’ve got band travel and endless house projects and next year’s event to plan. Not to mention my neglected registration system business, and my new tax routine, and a litany of other things that have been ignored for months. So, yeah, there will be a lot of catch up. 

This weekend I go to Chicago, then there’s a Monday with no school or camp, then the first day of school for LAUSD is Tuesday. With Theo in kindergarten, I basically hang around school for an orientation for a couple of hours and then pick him up at 11, so no work will be done for a second day. I am seriously going to hustle to get all the big projects done in the next four days so I can just focus on customer service until next Wednesday.

I am so dreading the early mornings. But maybe I can make them slightly less painful by changing our breakfast routine (right now very elaborate and complicated), not showering (I end up walking and then showering again two hours later anyway), laying out clothes the night before, etc. I’m sure I can get into a rhythm with our new reality. But for now I’m just going to bask in these last bittersweet moments. 

Good news

Got the word yesterday that the boys will be able to attend afterschool. Signed up today. Big sigh of relief! Having my usual misgivings about why, exactly, I need so much time away from them. But then I spend a weekend with them, and I’m like, yup. Boys are exhausting. Especially young boys close in age. 

Theo’s been trouble lately. And by “lately” I mean the last year. He’s super full of energy. Yesterday he got in trouble at camp for kicking another kid more than once - and in front of the kid’s mother, no less. He didn’t want to tell me who it was, but I guessed it was this one kid who, bless him, is kinda socially inept and follows Theo around and bugs him. I told him he needs to go to staff if someone’s bugging him and that it’s never ok to hurt someone or be mean to them. I was on pins and needles today worrying he didn’t get the message...turns out he kind of did. Apparently they got into it in the morning but then later in the day Theo went to staff about the kid bugging him. So...yay? I’m counting the days until they’re out of camp. Two more days this week and then next week and then we’re done. I am starting to feel like I need to be prepared to invest a lot more to send these kids to summer camp in years ahead - as in, three to four times more. Instead of just cheap government babysitting for the summer, maybe the kids need a real camp experience, like a swim camp or sport camp. I thought this was going to be a sport camp, but then they dropped that concept. So, I tried. Still, the kids enjoyed it, so I guess I shouldn’t feel too bad about it. 

I’ve got a lot of big decisions coming up the next couple of days for my event. Right now my brain can’t really cope. So I’m just gonna binge watch Catfish on MTV and try to pretend my event isn’t three weeks away. 

Midsummer

It is August. I feel like this summer has flown by much faster than others - just yesterday was the kids’ last day of school; tomorrow I go to pick up school supplies. I know people always say the summer has flown by, but yeah - this time, it’s for real.

Still no word about afterschool, but we may even start school before we hear anything. Or it may be a month or two or three or more before there are spots. Who knows? I still feel like most likely we’ll hear something next week and it will be good news. But I’m preparing mentally just in case. Maybe it’ll be like when our babysitter said she couldn’t do any of these weekend trips for me anymore - it seemed like the worst calamity on earth at the time, but it ended up being a good thing; it saves me a ton of money, and the boys get to spend time with the BF and he’s forced to not work so much. We’ll see.

I feel like the event is relatively under control, but I also know about false “calm before the storm” moments. There is still a ton of work to do, most of which has to wait until the last minute, when it will be hot and I’ll be stressed and may have kids home at 2 every day instead of 6. So...yeah. One bit of good news scheduling is that for the first time in years I will not get my period the day the event starts. What a delight that will be not to be in a murderous hormone-induced rage for several days before the event. 

I’m glad the boys have enjoyed their camp, but I don’t think I’ll be sending them there again. Every time I go there it seems like it’s just a bunch of bored teenagers hanging out - nobody really seems to be in charge, and I feel like the kids are picking up some bad habits/language there. But at the same time I’m very mindful of the fact that, with the exception of our very white, very privileged elementary school, the demographic of our actual neighborhood is very different (working class Latino) and I think it’s important for the boys to be a part of that. I grew up in rough places with rough people and it teaches you a few things - mainly, that it’s not all about you. I like that my kids are often the only white kids in a situation. I think that’s important. And the camp doesn’t feel unsafe particularly, otherwise they wouldn’t be there. But I’d like them to be somewhere that maybe isn’t quite so Lord of the Flies in structure. Thankfully I’ll have a whole year to figure this out.

For now I’m doing my little workouts (have not lost a pound), slowly pecking away at event-related work, making plans for the future, and just taking things day by day.

That time of the year

There are three more weeks of summer camp before school starts on the 20th. Then two weeks before my event. I’m starting to get random waves of nausea, am not sleeping well, and am having anxiety dreams. It’s that time of the year.

Today I had in my calendar to go to the rec center to sign up for the afterschool program for both boys - it’s opening day for registration. I went after lunch and was informed that it was full. Full! Apparently there was a long line into the office at 8 AM and all the spots filled up immediately. This is the same place that two years ago always had availability. Last year they were full by the first day of school...this year it filled up in minutes. I don’t know why I’m surprised; my event is having a similar trajectory. However, I am now screwed. 

I spent the entire afternoon filling out forms and scrounging around for options only to discover the only other option - the crazy expensive STAR program - is also full and has been since school ended. 

I emailed the rec center director and she told me she’ll look at the list and see what she can do, but won’t know anything until next week. I’d like to think she’ll squeeze us in just because we’ve been using all their services for years - camps, preschool, after school - and luckily my kids are easy and well liked by the staff. But I know all of this means nothing if they just don’t have the staff or budget. 

So I’ve been trying to reconcile myself to a very different school year. I’m very fortunate that I don’t need afterschool care - only just for my mental health. I can technically pick them up every day. But the hard times are when I travel, and these first two weeks of school before my event. I remember how hard it was for three months picking up Theo at 2, 1 and occasionally noon after school last year; the idea of having two rambunctious boys running amock for hours every day while I can’t get anything done positively fills me with dread. Also, it’s no joke asking the BF to leave work at noon or one to pick up kids every couple of weeks when I’m out of town. I mean...he can do it. But ugh. 

I’m trying to make an attitude adjustment. It’ll be fun! Our evenings will be more relaxed! I can bake cookies! They can do chores! They’ll be getting older and easier all the time! It’ll be ok! But yeah, trying really hard to fight off despair. What on earth would I do if I had a 9-5 job??? I can’t even think about it. 

It’s funny because I’m on exactly the other end in my work - my whole life right now is dealing with endless desperate emails from people wanting in to my full contests and our full hotel block. The people pleaser in me is not pleased. Maybe that’s what the nausea is about. 

Hawaii

Vacations are a fascinating magnifying glass look into your life. Everything is intensified - the highs are higher and the lows are lower. And yet we insist on doing this to ourselves. Maybe we’re bored? 

We have only two more nights here on Oahu. So far the highlights have been:

Swimming in a waterfall at Waimea valley

Today’s snorkeling at Shark’s Cove

Our magical yurt stay (four nights there, now we’re in a pretty dumpy beach cottage on Oahu’s north shore)

Bobby getting more confident in his swimming and having a blast in the waves

The not so great parts have been:

Both kids, but Theo in particular, being exceptionally whiny, complaining, and ill-behaved. I feel like all we’ve been doing is angrily barking out orders that are completely ignored and then meting out punishments. But then I look around and all I see is mothers  grabbing kids’ arms and leaning down and hissing in kids’ ears full of rage, so apparently everyone is having the same vacation we are.

Theo may in fact be sick. He was running a fever for a couple of nights and appeared to have swollen lymph nodes - we were seconds away from packing him off to an ER one night - but seems to have rallied at this point. It would explain his exceptional crankiness.

We are also having to make Bobby sit on the toilet to poop after every meal and in the morning and at night, all so he doesn’t soil himself, which he’s done a couple of times anyway. It’s fucking exhausting. 

My birthday was a bit of a hot mess. The BF as usual did not plan ahead and spent much of the day wasting time frantically trying to come up with something for us to do - it ended up being a desultory trip to Waikiki involving a glass bottom boat ride (we saw absolutely nothing - but it was fun being on a boat) and a cheesy magic show plus dinner which was all meat and therefore inedible to me. The kids got a kick out of it so it wasn’t a total loss but...yeah. He also had a complete freak out meltdown trying to find the magic show during which I had to say to him, “hey! Don’t you dare say ‘what the fuck’ to me!” and had to confront him for the bajillionth time about his smoking, which has been way out of control on this trip. He agreed to dial it back. On trips like this I see how incredibly high maintenance and helpless he is, and also how badly he handles stress. I’ve had to bail us out and take over much of the time here, which is typical for us. Normally I don’t mind being the leader - I’m comfortable in that role - but I had hoped he could handle some planning for once. Clearly he can’t so I won’t let that happen again. 

So we had a couple of pretty shitty days and I was feeling pretty down about it. And yet he’s done so much right on this trip and been such a help and loving dad to these kids. It makes me feel like an asshole for fixating on that one moment he snapped and wiping out the 1,000 things he did right, forgetting how totally impossible a trip like this would be without another committed parent-figure (trust me - with two barely swimming kids on a beach, you really, really need two adults!).

Much to my (expected) horror, our new beach cottage is full of giant waterbugs. He killed many of them last night. I for sure could not have handled that on my own without completely losing it. I could picture myself throwing sleeping kids in the car and high-tailing it to the nearest Marriott.

I’ve decided relationships are a lot like trips to Hawaii. Beautiful beaches, soft breezes, shave ice, waterfalls, tacos...and waterbugs. You kind of can’t have this beautiful place without the nasty tropical underbelly. Doesn’t mean you have to love the waterbugs...you just have to accept they’re there and try to focus on the good stuff. 

Aging

In a week I’ll be on Oahu in a yurt. There I will ring in my 47th birthday. 

I realize I’m still “young”. But I feel old and out of it. I’m having a hard time with aging at the moment. I think part of it is because culture is moving so quickly right now, it’s impossible to keep up, and that causes a certain panic that I’ve recognized in older people before. Add this to my rapidly diminishing eyesight, my inability to lose weight, and fear of oncoming menopause, and yeah - not feeling the whole aging thing.

Still - I need to think about the positives of being this age, especially on the heels of good choices I made as a younger person. I bought a house when it was still possible in LA, and hopefully that house will be paid off by the time I’m 52. Then I will have lots of options for myself and college for the kids. I started a business in my 20s, toughed it out through the hard times, and am now reaping the benefits of two decades of hard work. I had two children that will hopefully be a comfort to me in my old age. Being older isn’t all terrible. In fact, it’s mostly great. I signed up for more personal training sessions, am going to start running, and will double down on my diet once I get back from our trip. I’m not going to go quietly into that dark night, not yet. 

The boys and I had an enjoyable beach day on our own today. Boy, are beach days less physically demanding now that I have help carrying stuff and don’t have babies strapped to me! They played well together and then we went to the In N Out where you can watch airplanes land at LAX, then home. 

Theo is attempting no pull ups tonight, on his own incentive. Hold the good thought for us! 

R.I.P.

It’s over. My sister and I both didn’t know what to expect or what we were going to do...but as with all things, we got through it. My two cousins, sister, brother-in-law and step aunt got in the same little row boat we’ve used for both aunt and uncle ash spreading, went out on the ocean, spoke a little bit, spread some ashes, I played the song. I said that life with my mother was a wild ride, one that sometimes you didn’t want to be on, but in the end I thanked her for making me possible, and thereby making Bobby and Theo possible. 

I remember when I was caring for newborn Bobby and couldn’t stop thinking about how she had done all these things for me - carried me, birthed me, nursed me, wiped my butt a thousand times, had sleepless nights, endured hormonal shifts and vaginal tearing and all the rest of it. I can be as mad at her as I want, but she did all those things. And for that I am truly thankful. 

After we went back to shore a wicked thunderstorm started up along with gale-force winds that positively soaked my cousin’s small beach cottage. The rain was enough to fill a tall bucket in under a half hour. Then it passed and we had this lovely rainbow. It was very fitting, I thought. 

Grief is inconvenient

I’m in Boston. Tomorrow I get up and bury my mother. Sigh.

I’ve had episodes of grief and near panic about this, and then it passes, and then it comes back. Will I feel better once it’s over, once we have jettisoned her ashes to the Boston Bay along with her sister and brother-in-law? Once I’ve done the last - and only, for a long time - thing I have to do for her? Once I’ve had the last day that gets to be all about her? Does it get to be about me, now? Ah, The Song of the Child of the Narcissist. Sing it louder and we can all dance to it. 

I arrived last night and had lots of crazy dreams, mostly about her, of course. At one point I became very warm and was convinced she was visiting me. I felt her love for me, utterly enveloping. But even in the dream I was fighting it. “That’s all bullshit. It’s a nice fantasy, but no.” Her consciousness is gone, as is her human form. She knows nothing but that she is dead. Selah. 

I carry her genes, her blood, her mannerisms, her attitudes about things (for better or worse). On stage tonight I couldn’t help but think about how much my voice sounds like hers, how I’m doing this entirely because of her influence, how the countless times I watched her perform no doubt seeped into me, affecting every look and movement that I like to think are authentically mine. They’re not. 

Maybe some day my boys will fight my influence - maybe they’ll be proud of it. I feel both, really. Bobby is already so me it’s a little scary. Theo, like all younger siblings, automatically gets the freedom to create his own thing, and does with relish. Oh, let’s hope I don’t alienate them with my selfishness the way she did me.

I don’t want to be sad - sad feels helpless; lost. I feel more comfortable being angry because it feels empowering. I’m angry that she let this happen to her - isolated herself far away, clung to foolish beliefs, let herself die slowly and in a ghastly manner. I feel like you don’t have the right to do things like that if you’re a parent. I would never put my boys through that - having to find me, figure out all my shit with zero roadmap, left with no note or explanation or apology...fuck that. What she did sucks. And we get to carry that forever, and someday I have to explain to her grandchildren what happened to her...the same way she explained to me that her grandmother died in a sanitarium after repeated suicide attempts. Good times! 

I had hoped to write something to say tomorrow but I haven’t been able to do it. I picked a nice Blossom Dearie version of the song Some Other Time to play (I didn’t think I could make it through singing it); beyond that I don’t really know what I’m going to do or say. 

Here I am at this joyful Lindy Hop event full of love and youth and community, and yet I have to go do this dark thing tomorrow. It feels so out of place and fills me with dread, like prying open a coffin. 

I hope I can get through it and feel relief. This is the only thing required of me for her, ever again. I can suck it up for a day and try to remember the good times (there were many) and try to purport myself like a respectful young (?) lady. I owe her at least that. Hold the good thought for me, would you? 

WWJJD

I started with my personal trainer last Wednesday and have worked out independently twice since, as was required. Right now we’re mostly doing a little light weight training, something I’ve never done in my entire life. Like so many women I focus on working my legs and losing weight, not getting strong. But I’d like to try something new. 

And it’s been really interesting, how I feel about lifting weights. It’s all about the story we tell ourselves, isn’t it? Right now I like the idea of being a strong, kickass woman who lifts weights in the gym with a bunch of guys half my age. This appeals to me. In my mind I’m channeling my idol, Joan Jett. “Do ya wanna touch me there? Yeah? Yeah? Yeah!!!”

Will I keep up with it? Who knows. But I do find it very meditative and empowering, much like knitting. Until my event is over the time requirements may be a problem. But I am motivated. So that’s something. 

What Would Joan Jett Do? I think she would lift weights and kick ass. That’s what she’d do.

In other news, my registration system kicked over...and it was a huge mess, because my business partner sent an email to all my attendees telling them about the switchover before I’d really had a chance to check it over, which caused a mass panic when people found contests missing and the wrong event pass on their account. Between Friday and Sunday I was swamped with freaked out emails; we had to do a re-import of all the data, and I had to manually check each of 400 registrations from our opening day to make sure everyone got what they paid for. I believe I’ve found most of the problems...but there’s no escaping that the event weekend is going to be a bit of a cluster-f after all this. I can’t go into my event with any confidence that the information I have is correct, which is terrifying. But...it is what it is. My staff knows to be understanding and just give people what they think they paid for; keep the customers happy. We’ll survive this, and then next year will be so much better.  But yeah. It was a tense few days. 

Had a weekend of birthday parties for the boys’ friends and baby showers. I’m so relieved the boys like their summer camp. We had a nice dip in the hot tub last night in which I watched in amusement while they took turns doing different jumps based on Captain Underpants and told each other, “oooh, that’s cool!” As much as there is often whining, tattling and shadenfreude involved, they do have a really good relationship. I’m very proud of that.

Thursday I leave for Boston for my annual singing gig and also to bury my mother. I’m dreading it, but I suppose I need the closure, since my mother’s death, for me, has been largely theoretical. Is this where I finally freak out and become non-functional? I suppose it’s possible, but not probable. I’ll bring some weights. And my knitting. Hopefully those will get me through. 

Camping, part II

Camping part two is completed. This weekend we went to Lake Cachuma with two other families, for a total of five adults and eight kids. All the new devices I bought, plus the separate tent for the kids, worked out great. Also, it not raining or freezing this time was a big plus.

It was a bit of a game changer - the other two families had invested in pop-up campers, so we were the only ones in tents. I was tempted by the idea of getting one, too, but there are a lot of variables. One, I just put a huge amount of money into all this camping gear that we’ll never use again if we get a camper. Two, we have nowhere to put it, although storage could be an option (for a fee). Three, we don’t know for sure that the BF’s car could safely tow a camper long distances. But. It sure would be fun, and open up a whole world of pulling up by a beach and just hanging out there for a weekend which we couldn’t do with tents (although we could piggyback on our friend’s camper with a tent by the beach). We could also just rent a camper, which is probably more practical. 

This is entirely unchartered territory for me. The world of tow hitches, boats, fishing, campers...these were things I did with other people’s families when I was a kid; my struggling single mother could never have had the wherewithal to do these kinds of things. And the reality is...I probably wouldn’t be doing them with my kids if I were single, either. It reminds me of how the world is your oyster just because you have a partner, and how restricted you are in your movements when you’re single, and that sucks. 

Now, I hit the ground running this week with work stuff. Also, tomorrow I meet with a personal trainer at my Y in yet another attempt to slim down. It’s one thing I’ve never tried - real working out - and I need guidance. Maybe putting toning up and getting strong before weight loss is the ticket for me...? Who knows. La lucha continua.

The boys had a blast playing with the other kids this weekend. It’s pretty special when you think that I met their parents twenty years ago through Swing dancing and now our kids are friends and building memories together. I’m so glad I get to be a part of that. 

It’s complicated

I’m in the airplane about to leave New York to return to LA. I’m having very complicated feelings about it.

To say this visit was magical would be a bit of an understatement. On top of two very special singing gigs, I spent long hours after midnight walking miles around the city with headphones on, taking it all in; and also had a couple of very intense, emotional visits with old friends. 

When it comes to New York, I’m now an outsider looking in - it’s been nearly 27 years since I left; the place is not recognizable to the New York I knew in the 80s, with its ten-pak token baggies, less-than-charming urban blight, and still standing Twin Towers. Dirty old New York is long gone. And yet...every once in a while you catch a soft whisper of it. The smell of a linden tree. The patina of a sidewalk with 200 years of grime on it. The caress of a warm almost-summer night, a phenomenon unknown to the desert I now call home. And it all caused me to be overcome with terrible, crushing longing.

But...longing for what? I have no desire to live there ever again. I love the life I’ve built for myself, and the new culture I’ve adopted. I am not a New Yorker. I don’t want to be young again, with all the misery and uncertainty my young life had. So, why the tears?

In a book I’m reading the writer says our brain thinks of the things we love as ourselves. So to my brain my children are me, as is my boyfriend and my sister and my event and band members. For all the intense devotion and love I poured into that city during my formative years, I suppose my brain thinks that New York in general, and the East Village in particular, is, in fact, me. To re-connect with me after years of absence is bound to be profound. How could it not be?

My oldest friend, a gay man I worked with at a video store after high school, and I had dinner and then found ourselves wandering to the East Village for ice cream. We talked about our toxic mothers, aging, how we were the Throw Away Kids. And how we’ve overcome and thrived. I mentioned half-joking how I was considering getting a tattoo of the “the party’s over” graffiti symbol which was everywhere in that neighborhood in the 80s - it was an anti-corporate, anti-1%, anti-gentrification symbol that so perfectly summed up the rebellion and street sensibility and sheer anarchy of those days. It seems more relevant now than ever. And it is me. He said DO IT. I just might. 

For now I’m going to try to come to terms with the fact that, as much as I tried to push it away - to my brain, anyway, New York is me. Immigrants all over this world know this reality - you are of two places; your heart will be forever split. My boyfriend, and my children, all native Californians, will never know the melancholy pull of the birthplace. The Brazilians sum it up so well with their term saudade - bittersweet longing. It’s terrible and beautiful and sad and lovely all at once. 

I’ve had a profound experience this weekend. It will take some time to fully weed through, and I may not ever entirely understand it. But I’m grateful for it.

Last days and June haze

Ah, June in Southern California. Haze, chill, and general moodiness, a brief respite before we’re plunged into triple-degree hell until Halloween.

I find I’m listening to Morrissey and knitting a lot more.

Monday I returned from my first-ever trip to Germany. We played a large event in the quaint town of Heidelberg. The event was delightfully young and fresh and had a progressive LGBTQ-positive vibe. There were lots of non-binary folx and same sex dance partnerships. So different from our stodgy, “I like to swing dance because I wish it were the good old days” middle-aged US bullshit. God bless those young people and their open minds and gender/orientation fluidity. God bless them, every one. 

Two days at home and then late tonight I leave for NY. It’s a bit stressful and I think most of us band members are kicking ourselves for agreeing to this tight schedule...but it’ll be ok. This morning I dropped Theo at his little neighborhood school for the last time. It’s weird to think I’ll never go to that place, ever again, after being there every day for almost a year. As if to solidify my feelings of sadness/guilt about leaving the school after only one year, as we were walking in an older Latina lady looked at Bobby and asked why he didn’t go there, and I said he goes to a different school. She then asked if Theo was going to stay here and I said no, he’d go to his brother’s school next year...she asked why, didn’t I like this school? It’s a very good school! I tried to explain that when B started his other school we didn’t even know about this one...in the end she seemed satisfied when I said the other school was closer. Someone told me last week that they’re discontinuing the ETK program there due to low enrollment. And despite my best efforts, Measure EE, a parcel tax meant to fund schools (result of the teacher’s strike, no doubt), failed to pass yesterday. Feeling all kinds of sad, weird, guilty feelings right now.

Also, hi, PMS!

Also, about to watch Season 3 of The Handmaid’s Tale. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. 

Also, hot Dutch guy we met for lunch in Germany is private messenging me saying how much he enjoyed meeting me. Ha. I have no intention of going to the party, but it’s nice to be invited, ain’t it?

Camping

We had our first family camping trip over Memorial Day weekend. After several Memorial Days in a row with zero plans or hastily thrown together last minute plans, I had booked this camping spot at Lake Piru last year for us and another family, and I’m so glad I did. 

We had to buy pretty much all of the gear other than a camping stove from scratch and there was a steep learning curve as far as set up/tear down and the basic management of daily activities, but now that we’ve done it once I feel like it’s going to be smooth sailing. The BF said I was the best person he’d ever camped with, for how prepared and organized I was. That was a huge compliment. 

The only downside was the one full day we were there, Sunday, it poured rain and was bitter cold. It made for miserable muddy conditions and a lot of unpleasantness - many of the other campers packed up and left. But I took the opportunity to knit a dish scrubbie, read, drink liberal cups of cocoa filled with marshmallows, and nap. The BF took the boys fishing, and the next day as we left we went on a wonderful boat ride in which we took a baby duck on board who was all alone and kept following us; it was the cutest thing that ever happened to me.

The next day I ran out and bought all of the efficient devices that would have made my life easier - a camping spice container set, a bin to keep bread from being crushed, a collapsible grey water bin, a collapsible dish rack for clean dishes, a multi-compartment foldable sink. I also got the boys their own tent. Having two rambunctious boys treat your tent as a giant bouncy house/wrestling stadium - tracking in mud and crushing your reading glasses with their unbridled enthusiasm - was no bueno. 

We camp again Father’s Day weekend and I’m looking for a spot in August. There is so much to explore in California - especially now that the drought is over and the lakes are no longer depressing dust bowls. My goal going forward is to try to camp five-six times a year over the warm months. I want to make this a regular thing. There’s just something so zen about having your entire existence reduced to a toothbrush and a saucepan. 

My kids’ childhoods are 1000% better than mine, part MCMXVII

I just played the boys “Paint it Black” and Bobby said, “why does he want everything black? I don’t get it,” and I said it was because he was sad. “Haven’t you ever felt that way?” I asked. He said no. It was all I could do not to say, “Jesus, kid, when I was your age I was contemplating suicide on like a daily basis!”

Example number 5,387 why my kids’ childhoods are better than mine was. 

Also, just went in to tuck the boys in and Bobby rambled off, bored, “love you, too” before I’d even said it. My kid is so used to hearing me tell him I love him that he’s bored by it. Let that sink in for a minute. Reason number 5,....

In other news, Mother’s Day was a roaring success. I managed to lob away unwanted depressing thoughts about my mother and my own love-starved inner child like so many machine-thrown tennis balls. We had a delightful hike up Eaton Canyon to a beautiful waterfall. We all got wet in the stream, ruined our shoes, and had a blast. I got to listen to nothing but Beck in the car and got cute cards from the BF & boys. 

After this...I’ve been very, very busy, and as a result have felt pretty frazzled and discombobulated. There is so much work to do for my business that I don’t even know where to start...but I did meet with my new business partner and we went over things with a fine tooth comb so I feel a lot more secure about the success of switching over my registration system (which, much to my chagrin, has still not happened). Went to Portland last weekend to sing; will go on a first camping trip this weekend. Then I have back-to-back trips to Germany and NY as the boys finish up school. I finally got them registered for that summer sports camp today after months of stalking them. So they are set until our return from Hawaii in mid-July. If they like it they’ll continue on until school starts in August. 

It feels good to be rounding out the school year. Bobby did well in first grade - only had (I think?) one note home from the teacher, got 100% on nearly all of his spelling tests, seems to be doing well socially. Theo thrived at his little neighborhood school - what a godsend that place ended up being - and will be that much more ready for kindergarten because of it. I cannot wait until that first day of school when I walk them both down the ramp to their teachers. I feel like I am on the precipice of that sweet spot of childhood - no more toddler craziness and before the sturm und drang of adolescence. It feels good.