Intention

On the Note to Self advice episode from January, Manoush suggested that one way to combat information overload is to set an intention every time you go online, and stick to the intention. She says it’s not finding that recipe or checking your Instagram feed or buying that thing you need (or even want) that creates the feeling of overwhelm, but jumping back and forth between them without recognizing what your trying to get done. I have to agree.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, trying to determine what my intention is when I open my phone. The reality is that most of the time I’m doing it out of habit; it’s a mindless exercise with no intention at all. I suppose I’m trying to distract myself, but even that is hard to determine. When I do think of what my intention might be, and can’t articulate it, I turn the phone off again. It’s a small gesture, and not particularly powerful, but it is getting me thinking about my phone use differently.

The idea is also extended into my blog reading. I’ve noticed a shift in my satisfaction with blog reading over the years. It used to be my favorite past time, but lately I feel… it’s hard to explain, all I know is that doesn’t feel as good as it used to.

As I try to set my blog reading intention (Why am I opening up my reader for the upteenth time today?) I realize that my reason for reading blogs used to be connection. I read the blogs of people I considered friends, commented in those places, and felt a part of community. The vast majority of those people have long since stopped writing–the community is all but gone–and yet I keep coming back looking for that sense of connection.

Instead I find impersonal blogs about productivity and minimalism and personal finance. Not only do I find no meaningful connection in these places, but many of them make me feel bad about myself and my many short comings.

It’s so obvious now that I see it, but for the longest time it was very distressing, my inability to identify and articulate why blog reading was no longer what it used to be. Now that I see the change for what it is, I feel more at peace. I’m deeply sad about it–I realize I lost something important and positive that I’ll likely never get back–but it’s easier to mourn and eventually accept a loss when I can see it for what it is.

Now that I realize my intention for reading blogs is not at all what is happening when I read them I have to make some changes. Either I adjust my intentions to keep reading, or I accept that reading now will never meet my original intention and stop.

What is your intention when you read blogs? Do you believe you meet that intention when you read them?

Scattered on a Saturday

It’s Saturday afternoon.

My son is (trying) to take his nap.

My daughter is playing with her friend (who sneaked in right after I shut my son’s door).

And I am on the elliptical for the first time in four weeks.

I had my second follow up appointment on Thursday. My doctor is pleased with how things are progressing, despite having to cut and burn off some “granulated tissue.” I’m not where she thought I’d be by now, but she does think I will eventually heal and she still thinks I will “love my new vagina.”

I am not so sure. The prolapse continues to be a real issue. While before I never really noticed it (except during my period when it prohibits me from wearing a tampon or cup), now I’m constantly aware of it. Right now, working out, it’s quite uncomfortable.

After a couple of weeks of physical therapy I can see the doctor that specializes in prolapse. I really want to avoid surgery (it’s not supposed to be very successful, or last very long even if it is initially successful), but so far the pessary has been totally useless (it just gets against the same spot my cervix pushes against). Maybe when the Botox wears off it won’t be such an issue, but my current doctor seems to doubt that. I guess we’ll see in the next couple of months.

Of course the final verdict of success will be if it still hurts when we have sex. Evidently I’m allowed to try when my husband comes back from SXSW tomorrow(!!!), but I can’t imagine I’ll feel ready by then. I originally told him 6 weeks and I think I’ll continue with that narrative. I want to feel very ready before we try again.

Still, I do admit that it’s finally starting to feel more normal down there. This past month of recovery has been much more difficult and stressful than I had anticipated. I hope in the end that I’m glad I did it, but right now the jury is definitely still out.

In less vagina-centric news…

We had a great Parents’ Night Out event last night. It was our third one and I think we’re all getting the hang of it because everyone agreed it was much easier to manage. We aren’t planning one in April, so there is only one more scheduled in May. Yay!

Our carnival is exactly three weeks from today. We found out we qualify for a $1,500 grant from an organization that promotes weekend use of school yards, so that is amazing (I probably would have been spending about that much of my own money had we not gotten this grant, so I am especially excited). We don’t have nearly enough volunteers, but otherwise we are in good shape. I hope we can pull it off successfully. We’ll see…

Two days after the carnival I leave for London. When I take the time to think about it I get SO EXCITED. I can’t think of a time when I so needed a break. I am worried to leave my family for so long (I’ll be gone until the following Tuesday!!!), especially after solo parenting for six days. But mostly I’m just so, so excited to get away from my regular life and visit a city I love (and a friend I haven’t seen in years).

Some events recently have left me acutely aware of how important friends are, and how few good ones I have left. The reality is, I don’t have a best friend (or even a good friend) and I am no one’s best or good friend, and while most of the time I accept this, some days it still hurts. Lately I’ve been made to remember that everyone I consider a friend has someone else they confide in more, and they hold a higher tier in my friendship hierarchy than I do in theirs. I have also been reminded of the friends I’ve lost, and the fact that they still have tons more friends, so my absence is probably not even a blip on their radar, while theirs leaves a gaping hole in my life. I wonder what is wrong with me that I can’t get or stay close to people. Am I flawed in some important way? Probably. But overall my life is pretty great, and it could be a lot worse, so I’m trying hard to focus on what I have instead of what I don’t have.

Man, it is uncomfortable to work out like this. I really hope I can get this prolapse issued sorted, because if I had to trade pain-free sex for this feeling, it won’t have been worth it. At all.

Still, so, so happy it’s Saturday.

Marathon

This March is a marathon, and it’s only just begun.

I’m trying hard to pace myself. To stay hydrated. To keep my head in the game. I’m trying hard not to think too far ahead, to stay focused on the mile I’m running.

I’ve run a marathon before. It was an intense experience to be sure, but the really hard part was the training. For weeks and weeks I put in so many miles. Alone, in the cold, sometimes in the rain, with only my carefully curated playlist, I logged hundreds of miles. The training was the hard part. The marathon was a mind game more than a test of strength or stamina.

I’m pretty good at those mind games. I’m pretty good at keeping going. I swam competitively for many years. I was never very good or very fast, but I logged the laps just like everyone else did. Back and forth with nothing but my thoughts and the black line below to keep me company. Swimming was a mind game too. That’s where I learned to play the mind-numbingly boring but muscle burning hard just keep going kind of mind game you need to play to finish any kind of long event. I used what I learned swimming to ride centuries on my road bike and then later to run a marathon. I hope I’m still as good at it as I remember.

But I can’t actually work out. I’m not sure how long it will be until I’m allowed to. The healing is not going well, so I don’t think I’ll be allowed back on the elliptical any time soon. I miss my workouts something fierce. I miss feeling good when I get off. I miss the endorphin rush of making my heart race.

It’s not a good time to not have my weekly opportunities to destress.

I don’t miss trying to find the time though. That would be hard right now, and I try to remind myself of that.

My husband leaves for SXSW on Tuesday morning. The rest of the week I have to get both kids ready and out of the house by 7:30am. If I think about it too much it makes me panic. This is the first time I’ve had to manage school mornings without my husband AND without my in-laws to help.

It doesn’t help that my son is exceedingly difficult these days. Oh my god has 4 been hard. So so so hard. I honestly don’t know if I can make him get ready in time. We’ll all have to wake up by 6am to even attempt it.

One mile at a time.

In the Weeds

I wanted to thank everyone who left such supportive, and insightful, comments on my post last week. You were, of course, right that sending that letter would have been a mistake. And the alternatives you suggested were incredibly helpful.

I wrote that letter in a moment of anger and frustration. I honestly didn’t know how broken SFUSD was when we first decided to send our daughter to a school there. I had heard rumors, and read dozens of articles, about it, but I didn’t really KNOW. Now I do know, and it makes me so angry. I see these kids, who come from such difficult situations, and instead of school being a refuge, it’s just another place where they, and their futures, are disregarded. It’s not right.

But of course it’s never been right, and me and my white privilege was able to avoid experiencing the reality for way too long. I don’t want to sit back and do nothing anymore, but I don’t know what I can actually accomplish.

So I keep crossing thing off my to-do list, trying to get stuff done. It feels mundane and useless, but it’s all I got right now.

And there is so much to do. March is going to be a perfect storm of obligations. I will be drowning in action items. I don’t say that to brag about how busy I am — I consider my packed schedule a personal failing actually — but instead to warn others who contemplate taking on too much.

I keep reminding myself that when I agreed to take on the responsibilities of PTA president I didn’t know I’d be without the in-law help we’d grown so accustomed to, or even that I wouldn’t have my own classroom at school. I couldn’t possibly have known, so it wasn’t totally my fault for over committing.

And now I must finish my grades for the 2nd trimester, and organize this carnival, which is less than a month away, and manage the kids by myself for a week while my husband is away.

I’ve tabled getting the house ready to post on AirBnB and preparing myself for the reality that it might not happen. I still have four rooms to photograph and they are all disaster areas once again. I’m thinking of posting the place with the photos I have and seeing what happens – maybe if I make it a good deal people won’t mind waiting for more photos. I don’t need to make the most I possibly could on the place this 1st summer, I just want to offset the cost of traveling with the kids.

And maybe traveling with the kids won’t happen and that’s okay too. We can’t have everything, and there is always next summer.

Right now I’m just trying to get through this month.

Part of the problem?

I’m thinking of sending this out to the listserv of all the PTA presidents in San Francisco, but I wanted to get your take on it first. My readers always give me such thoughtful and insightful feedback; I know I’d be less nervous sending it if you all had read and responded first.

My name is (Noemi) and I am the PTA president at (daughter’s school) in Bernal Heights. We are a small PTA, with a board of only 6 people. We struggle every year to replace the officers that term out. Only 2-5 general members come to our meetings, and only very rarely are teachers or administrators able to attend.

(Daughter’s school) is a Tier 3 school. 75% of our student population qualifies for free or reduced lunch. The majority of our families speak English as a second language, if at all. Many of our students face generational poverty and/or other trauma at home. Some have significant behavioral challenges. Test scores confirm that our students are struggling significantly to perform at grade level, and that they need increased scaffolding and support to succeed. Teacher retention is also a very real challenge, as some leave because of student behavior issues and a perceived lack of support; there are currently multiple openings for full time teachers at our school. We’ve had three new administrations in the last three years.

As you can imagine, as a PTA we struggle to raise funds to support our teachers and students. While nearby schools with comparable student populations raise $25K or $75K, we haven’t raised $10K in either of the last two years.

I doubt anyone would argue that SFUSD’s public school system is broken. The city espouses equality of access and yet its school system provides the opposite. The affluent, well educated parents who do send their kids to SFUSD cluster at certain high demand schools, where they raise incredible amounts of money to provide enrichment programs that make their schools even more desirable, perpetuating the cycle.

When I was navigating the SFUSD lottery, Spanish Immersion programs were our focus. While I knew which SI schools were most popular, I didn’t know that the amount a school PTA raises every year is public knowledge and that families use that to rank their choices. I also didn’t realize that some schools in this district raise over $350K while others struggle to raise 1/100th of that amount.

I live in the city, but am a public school teacher at a affluent, highly desirable school district on the peninsula. I could have brought my daughter to a school in that district, but diversity is important to us, and we believe that well educated parents need to opt-in at SFUSD for real change to take place. We are being the change that we want to see, but it’s increasingly evident that the system is even more broken that we originally recognized.

The PTA is supposed to advocate for every student, but in San Francisco I can’t help be wonder if it’s actually helping perpetuate the cycle of haves and have not’s, deepening the discrepancies between the most desired schools, where affluent parents cluster, and the least desired schools, where minority students are left to languish. I wonder if it is helping create and maintain a system where those who have the resources to call for change are satisfied by the status quo and do not fight to affect change for those left at the schools where sufficient funds cannot be raised. Of course I recognize it’s not the intention of the PTA to maintain the considerable discrepancies between the most and least desired schools in the district, but if it is doing that, we need to recognize the reality and have some honest conversations about what it means.

I’m not writing this to call anyone out, but instead to start a conversation. It is not PTA’s job to fix the considerable failures of SFUSD, but if the PTA remains the only real way for parents to raise funds to support schools, and the amounts schools raise remain vastly different, we need to talk about what that means for ALL students. I look forward to hearing your perspective.

What do you think readers? Am I totally off here? Am I missing the mark? Obviously I don’t know what the solution is, but have I accurately identified a problem? How do you think other PTA presidents (some of whom are at the very schools I’m mentioning) will react?

Titles are hard

Thank you all for making me feel less alone after yesterday’s post. I found myself nodding my head at each comment, because I have, or still do, feel all those things. I guess I just have to accept that growing up watching my mother lose babies, losing my own sister (even though I was young), having my own loss and then secondary infertility, and probably even dealing with these lingering physical issues after birth, are going to make the arrival of babies, even into the periphery of my life, complicated.

I’m sick right now with a brutal cold. Some years I skate by without getting much and other years I seem to get every major virus that makes the rounds. Unfortunately this year is turning out to the the latter. I just wish I had this awful virus last week when I had time to rest.

Having said that, I clearly didn’t rest enough because my healing is not going as hoped. I saw my doctor on Friday and she was frustrated to see that all my sutures, even the internal ones, had popped. I was not put on Colace quickly enough and, well, I think you can figure it out from there. She still thinks I will eventually heal and will “love my new vagina” but I am not as hopeful.

The Botox shots that were meant to relax my traumatized muscles, seem to have worsened my prolapse, which is now so advanced that my cervix basically rests on my newly forming scar tissues all day. My doctor didn’t realize this because when I lie down (like I do when she examines me) it pulls up an inch or so, and it took me a while to realize that was what was causing the incredible pressure and discomfort, especially after I went back to work and was on my feet more. The problem is that the way to alleviate the problem (putting in a pessary), will definitely hurt my hopefully healing scar tissue. Let’s just say it’s not healing as hoped, and now I may have to get another surgery I hoped to avoid.

Putting my house on AirBnB is, perhaps not surprisingly, a way more complicated process than I expected. We have to register with the city as a business and file special papers with the tax board. I’m not sure if I’m even supposed to list the place before I take these steps, and if I have to wait it may be too late to find someone for the lengths of time we were hoping to rent it. I have gotten pictures of half of the rooms, but the work I have to do to get a decent shot is making me very aware of how much more I need to do for the house to actually be ready for guests. I honestly might not be able to pull this off…

And the stress of trying to do everything is messing with my marriage. Blerg.

Things are not great right now. I know they will get better, but at the moment I’m feeling down and out. I wish I hadn’t gotten this surgery. I wish I weren’t so organizationally challenged. And I wish I weren’t such a complicated, emotional, mess.

I also wish I didn’t have this $#{%€ cold.

Babies

My sister-in-law had her baby this morning. The friend I had to sever ties with did too (our mutual friend let me know). My best friend is being induced tomorrow. Another friend is due next week.

Lots of babies. So very many babies.

I wonder if babies will ever stop conjuring such complicated emotions in me. First and foremost, I am always SO RELIEVED that they have arrived safely. A tangible weight is lifted from my heart every time.

I am also very excited to be a honest-to-god aunt. My sister will not be having kids (her choice) so my SIL’s kid(s) will be my only real niece(s) and nephew(s). Of course I consider my cousins’ kids like nieces and nephews, but there is something special about the real thing. I’m really excited, and feel very grateful, that I get to play the role of aunt to someone.

But there are other feelings too. More complicated and confusing feelings. And this is coming from someone who got the amount of kids she ultimately wanted, and is happy to be past the baby and toddler phase. That’s why I’m always so surprised by how weirdly I react to new babies in my life. Blerg.

Am I the only one who has complicated feelings about new babies? If you have any insights for me, I’m all ears…

 

Too Much

I’m sure it can seem sometimes, like I accomplish a lot. And maybe I do. But it definitely comes at a price, and sometimes that price is high.

This past week was really rough. It turns out I really suck at “taking it easy.” There are so many things that need to happen right now, so that future goals can be met, and I found myself attempting to do them despite orders from my doctor to rest.

In the end it all was too much and everything went off the rails. I ended up losing my temper, twice, with my family in ways that were absolutely unacceptable. My kids were scared, my husband was angry and I was ashamed. I had to have some hard conversations and hear some difficult things. I had to face the fact that I can’t actually do everything I want to do right now, that something, perhaps multiple things, are going to have to give.

I’m reconsidering my priorities right now. Being more honest with myself about what is possible this year. I’m gaining the trust of my family back, after having betrayed it so egregiously.

I’m putting this out there because I read a lot of blogs by women who seem to manage it all, and well. I wonder sometimes if I’m proliferating a similar message when I mention all the stuff I do. Because I can get a shit ton of stuff done. But it takes its toll. The stress eventually becomes too great and the pressure releases, usually in a way that makes me feel guilty and ashamed. It’s not a healthy way to live my life, and it’s certainly not sustainable. It’s absolutely not want I want to be modeling for my kids.

And I want to be honest about that here. Because taking on as much as I do isn’t necessarily the right choice. I may have good intentions, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior when I can’t deal with the stress. I need to be honest with myself about what I can manage, and I need to learn to say no. I don’t want to perpetuate the story that women can manage it all, and with a smile. Because I can’t. And it’s okay if you can’t either.

 

My house is a shithole

It’s interesting how the prospect of renting out my house is making me look at it through new eyes. Sometimes I notice a charming detail here or there, but most of the time I am struck by its faults, which feel… significant… and surprising.

Most of the time I am reminded that we live in, well, a shithole.

I mean, it’s not really a shithole, except it kind of is. We clearly have a high threshold for tolerating crap. We don’t mind much when things don’t look nice, or work very well. We’d much rather just let it go than spend the time or money to improve it. We are lazy. And cheap. And after six years, it’s noticeable.

Except I didn’t really notice it, at least not the breadth and scope of it. I didn’t notice how many things were kind of messed up, and how many spaces looked like shit. Now the stuff I need to fix is all I see.

It doesn’t help that the house, at its foundation, really is a piece of crap. Every expense was spared, as I like to say. If there was a way to spend less — use lower quality materials and less skilled labor — they went with it. Sometimes it feels like the thing is coming apart at the seams.

Obviously we aren’t going to do any big improvement projects just to rent this place out on AirBnB, but I am doing little things, here and there, to make it look nicer. I’m actually excited at the prospect of sprucing the place up a bit. I’ve always wanted to do a lot of these projects, but I never had the impetus until now.

Maybe, by the the time we actually invite people to stay here, it will feel less like  a shithole, and more like a home.

Taking it easy

The procedure went well. At least I think it did. I was super out of it when my doctor debriefed me at the end.

I’ve been trying really hard to take it easy. The point of this procedure was to remove non-healing tissue and I’m supposed to be giving what’s left every opportunity to heal. But it’s hard. I have two young kids and staying in bed all day for a week is absolutely not in the cards for me. I worry I’m overdoing it and the whole procedure will have been for naught.

It doesn’t help that I have so much going on. It seems like all these big projects in my life require immense pushes in effort right now. It was probably a mistake to schedule this thing for this month, but I suppose there is never a convenient time to be convalescing.

My husband came back last night, and that should help. My mom is coming today to help me around the house and that should help as well. Friday I have a follow up appointment with my doctor and I’m anxious to hear what she has to say.

I really hope this worked. Right now I’m fighting the fear that it will all end up being a waste of time, and I’ll be left on the other side with the same chronic pain and no remaining avenues for resolution.