We went for a walk at Land’s End today. The weather was beautiful and it was nice to be outside. The views were icing on the cake.
I don’t know why but I’m exhausted tonight. The time change can’t possibly explain how tired I am, but I want to take advantage of it to go to bed early.
See you tomorrow for Day 8 of NaPoBloMo.
Today my son is testing for the third stripe on his blue belt. We have been working really hard at home to learn the form, and we have been going to extra classes to prepare for other parts of the test. It’s been a lot of work and a lot of time and a fair amount of stress. It has complicated my schedule and made me tired and at times irritable.
When he gets his third stripe today he will be so proud. And so will I. He has really come into his own at the dojo, where he feels capable and confident doing really high level martial arts. The investment of time (and money!) is absolutely worth it. And yet, it also causes stress and makes our schedule busier.
This fall I rediscovered my own martial arts practice, after stepping away for much of the pandemic. I plan to test in early December, which means I have to go to a lot of extra classes in November. It’s not an ideal time to take on extra stress, but two other students at my level are testing in December and I’d rather take on the prep in November than push it back and test by myself. It definitely creates stress and anxiety, and yet I do it because I feel accomplished when I’m done.
There is a lot of talk about saying no to things you don’t have time for, and don’t really want to do. There is a lot of talk about avoiding over scheduled kids and embracing a slower existence, even more so since the pandemic forced us to stop everything for so long.
But what happens when you do want to do it and your life ends up feeling busy and stressful because of it? What happens when your kids want to do two activities each and they care about both and both are ultimately valuable, but the combinations feels untenable? Right now my son is doing martial arts and soccer and my daughter is doing nothing and it feels like so much. When she starts volleyball I don’t know what I’ll do (I think my son will be done with soccer by then… I hope so!)
I struggle with this stuff because I want our lives to feel less hurried and for me to feel less harried. But I also want us to invest in our passions and achieve things that make us a proud. I don’t really understand how to find the balance between the two. Attempting to achieve that balance is a struggle in itself.
No answers at the end of this, just wanted to put it out there. Because today is a stressful Saturday, the culmination of a stressful week, but in the end the stress will feel worth it. And yet, if we’re all doing stressful things that feel worth it, we’re left with a stressful, but meaningful, life. Does meaningful have to equate to stressful? For me the answer feels like yes, but maybe someone will tell me that I’m wrong! Please do!
I’m having a follow up day at school – a day to get some stuff done so it doesn’t languish in their binders and hanging files. We’re finishing up our unit on Day of the Dead, and I have to say, while I LOVE the celebration and all we do to learn about it and celebrate it ourselves, I’m ready to move on.
I’d also like to do a little follow up on yesterday’s post!
First of all thank you to everyone who commented. It was really insightful to learn how other people who are in charge of meal planning and cooking feel about their spouse helping out (or not really helping out). The mental load of “meal planning” is definitely weighing on my husband (he doesn’t plan out the whole week but is always thinking of what he will make and when). I recognize that is a LOT of work, but I hesitate to insert myself into that piece of it because historically we have not been great at sharing mental loads. Any task that requires us to sit down together and plan is usually pushed back and back. I can’t imagine having to do that every week. Having said, I told my husband I’d make tortellini soup next week, to use up the spinach we got in the CSA box. I’m hoping that helps.
Speaking of the CSA box, A few of you mentioned it contributing a significant portion of the weight my husband is shouldering, and I absolutely agree! I think the CSA box is definitely making things harder, but I also don’t think it’s my place to suggest we stop getting it. My husband did mention he might want to order a smaller box (I think we get the medium sized box, but maybe we get the large?) and I enthusiastically agreed that was a good idea. But then he had everything he needed for some cobb salad one day and he was so stoked on that he tabled the decision. (Blerg!) I’m waiting for him to make the decision on his own, but I will definitely NOT be agreeing to shoulder the “use up the CSA box” burden. I for one would prefer not to find kale in pretty much every dish for the next three months.
(I do think that he will be more inclined to let the box go now that he’s going into the office two times a week. That requirement just started and he’s already noticing how much more tired he is after spending the day at the office. My guess is by December he will decide it’s not worth it anymore.)
Not much else to follow up on, and if I think of something later I can always include it in tomorrow’s post! I’m 5/5 on NaPoBloMo! Let’s do this!
A couple weeks ago, my husband admitted that he was really struggling, and asked for support. He said he really unhappy, and that while there were many things contributing to his distress, one thing that was definitely contributing was that he was burnt out on cooking. I immediately tried to be supportive, and suggested that we talk about ways we could take some cooking off his plate. I also blurted out that I would start cooking a couple of times a week.
Immediately after saying this, I regretted it. Even as I was saying it, I knew it was the wrong move, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. My husband was saying he was tired of cooking, and it’s a woman’s job to cook anyway, so I should just step up and do it. Something inside me compelled me to participate in that narrative by saying I would start preparing more meals.
By Monday my husband seemed a lot better, and while I did mention that I would attempt to make dinner one time that week, it never ended up happening. This was the week where I nearly careened off a cliff myself before my son’s birthday weekend, so my husband didn’t really bring it up.
But I raised the topic again this week, saying that I wanted to circle back and revisit ways we could take some cooking off his plate. When we talk again, I’m going to be much more mindful about what I offer to take on.
I have to say though, I don’t really trust my ability to be objective when it comes to this stuff. I feel like, when my husband communicates that he’s overwhelmed, my first instinct it always to take on more stuff. There is a part of me that absolutely still believes I should be able to manage everything, or that I should be able to do when my husband is in crisis. I also know that if I take on too much I start to feel resentment, anger, and envy (did you know resentment is actually a form of envy?! I did not (I thought it was a form of anger) but it makes so much sense!)
I also notice that when my husband does something that was traditionally one of my roles, I experience a lot of conflicting emotions that prevent me from just appreciating that he took something off my plate. For example, last week he made appointments for the kids to get their flu shots with him at a nearby Walgreens (I got mine at a doctor’s appointment in October). He made the appointments, did all the paper work, and got them there on time. All I did was drop them off after he realized the bus was all messed up and they would have been late if they waited for it.
It was probably the first time I was not with my kids when they got a shot, and the first time he managed their medical care so completely. He took over a portion of the “emotional labor” that I wish I didn’t have to bear alone, and yet I felt guilty that he was doing something I usually did, and was immediately considering ways I could take something off his plate. I have been drinking the patriarchy’s Kool-aid for so long, I don’t even know how to be objective anymore.
The cooking stuff is even more complicated for a number of reasons. My hatred of cooking, and my acceptance of reheated prepacked meals, form just the tip of an iceberg that balloons under the surface into my history of eating disorders, and my shame around my “selective” eating. It would be one thing if I could just say I want nothing to do with preparing the veggies we get every week in our CSA box, but adults SHOULD eat fresh fruits and veggies, so my desires don’t even feel valid objectively. There is no area of shared labor where I feel less capable of being objective and standing my ground than cooking.
UPDATE (I started writing this post over the weekend, and am coming back to it mid-week): When I asked if we could talk about alleviating some of his stress in the kitchen, I brought up some of my confusion around his request. Would he like to just not cook some days, and we “scrounge” (as we call it when we each just find something to eat) those days? Or would he like me to make something, anything (no strings attached) a couple days a week? Or is he hoping I will incorporate the weekly CSA box produce when I cook, because otherwise he’ll still have the stress of using all of it before it goes bad? He honestly hadn’t thought about any of those specifics and appreciated me articulating them. I think by asking them, he realized how fraught the issue was for me, and we landed on me doing more dishes (yes! he also does most of the dishes!). But I also asked that we revisit the issue after a couple weeks in case it feels like too much for me. I will also make sure I’m the one making the kids dinners moving forward.
I’m honestly not sure if I’m taking on too much again, or if this is more fair (or if I’m helping my husband in a way he really needs right now). Again, I just don’t trust myself to be objective on this stuff. But at least we are talking about it, and I’m catching myself when I’m spilling the Kool-aid all over my own marriage, and managing to clean up some of the mess.
I have been flirting with the idea of participating in NaPoBloMo. I was going to wait a week to actually say that out loud (you know what I mean), but already I’m struggling to think of what to write. None of this bodes well for my NaPoBloMo attempt, but who cares, you know? This is as low stakes as it gets, and I’m here for it.
My husband just texted me about kid vaccines. Evidently Walgreens had appointments open last night but now they are all filled. But I had heard there was a glitch in the appointment page (it asked for an authorization code that no one had), and when I just tried I hit that glitch (but the supposed “fix” didn’t work for me). I am SO HAPPY that vaccines have been approved for kids 5-11 years old and I am VERY EAGER to get my kids vaccinated. I also hope to avoid the desperation I felt when I was trying to get vaccinated in February.
There was such an atmosphere of scarcity around it when I was trying to get a shot, but in the end it worked out. The news cycle definitely contribute to the feeling of scarcity. And they are doing it again. Almost every article I’ve read about Covid vaccines being approved for kids 5-11 have included the caveat “but they may be hard to get.” It all just feels so unnecessary. My kids will eventually get vaccinated and I will be so happy when that happens. But I refuse to whip myself into a frenzy in the weeks before we get appointments. We aren’t traveling anywhere for the holidays. We don’t have to make hard choices about whether or not to see unvaccinated family, as we have none in the area. Mask mandates aren’t going to be lifted in schools before the new year. Their vaccination won’t change anything for us in the next two months. I am lucky that I don’t have to feel stress about when they get their shots, and I’m going to embrace that.
Instead I’ll celebrate that I’m 3/3 on my NaPoBloMo 2021 attempt. Ha! What a low, low bar. 😀
Are you chasing Covid vaccines for your kids? Or a booster* for yourself?
*I have not pursued my own booster yet, though it has been offered to me as a teacher.
I am convinced that 280 between San Francisco and San Jose is the most beautiful commute in a major metropolitan area in the United States.
Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.
This weekend I checked some big items off my to-do list. I successfully fixed two things on the house that we were going to have our handyman tackle: I secured the hot water pipe to the side of the house where it had pulled away from the old straps, and I rigged a good-enough fix on a board that was pulling away from the front corner of the house, complete with exposed menacing nails sticking out. It feels really good to have those issues fixed (the pipe especially, it was banging around A LOT when we used the hot water, which was loud and annoying, but also was probably going to lead to long term pipe damage). They have been on my to-do list for a long time, and checking them off feels amazing. AMAZING!
We also had some fun this weekend. On Saturday, I took my son to his soccer game, because I wanted to see one and this weekend made sense for me to do it. We also met up with my daughter’s friends at a Halloween carnival where they played some games and won some junky stuff. They had fun and we got out of the house for a few hours, which were my goals for that event. Saturday night we watched The Corpse Bride which was short and seasonal and a perfect way to end the day.
Sunday I got the big house projects done, and finished the weekend laundry (I try not to run big appliances from 4-9pm so I end up doing almost all our laundry on the weekends). I also worked out, before heading out to for a Halloween party which segued into Trick-or-Treat! I actually really like Halloween, especially the costumes, so I am loving the celebrations this year. I didn’t even mind Friday at school – which is always a crazy day when the kids wear their costumes and have a hard time focusing.
Today and tomorrow, which are the Days of the Dead, my classes will be watching Coco – a perfect way to get through the post-Halloween hangover.
I am very ready for November, and Thanksgiving, which is always a welcome respite from school without the insanity of other holidays that the kids get really amped up about. I cannot wait to enjoy relatively normal holidays this year. I remember that last year I was navigating my parents’ expectations and our seemingly incompatible levels of risk-aversions surrounding the pandemic. I am SO RELIEVED that we don’t have to explain why we don’t think it’s okay to eat inside with them, even though they think it would be perfectly fine. This year it is fine! And I’m so thankful for that.
Let’s go November!
In early September I had to go to the OBGYN to get an endometrial biopsy done because I’d been having my period every two weeks for several months. I cramped and spotted for several days after the biopsy, and then I didn’t have a period until… tonight.
I know this is how it goes. Sometimes my cycles will be super short, other times they will stretch interminably. That is what perimenopause is all about – erratic and irregular menstruation. As someone who didn’t cycle regularly for most of her 20s, I thought I’d be pretty well prepared for that part. But it turns out, I’ve cycled pretty regularly since my second pregnancy, and I’d gotten used to that regularity. Or better said, I’d gotten used to the specific emotional roller coaster that my bullshit 21 day cycles required I ride. I knew when I started to go off the rails that my period was about to hit, and that once it was over I’d feel better. But when my cycles shortened to 14 days, my roller coaster got a remake. Now I’m not sure what the fuck I’m riding anymore.
I felt myself going off the rails this weekend. It was a particularly stressful weekend, what with my son’s serial birthday celebrations, but by Sunday afternoon I could tell that something more was messing with me. And then Sunday night I saw that tell tale tinge on the toilet paper and let out a sigh of relief. Except the next day there was nothing, and I felt even worse that I did during the weekend. Then today I felt worse. Finally tonight I saw actual spotting and I’m hoping that tomorrow my period will just come already and I’ll feel better. But maybe it won’t. The truth is, I have no idea what to expect anymore, physically or emotionally, and it’s incredibly destabilizing.
I identified that word last night – destabilizing. Naming the feeling helped; it really does feel like the ground is shifting under my feet, and I’m never quite sure how to regain my footing. I feel a deep need to ground myself… I’m working to identify strategies that might help. It’s hard, and sometimes I feel fairly awful and others I feel okay. I know this too shall pass and that maybe even next week things will feel significantly more settled. But right now I find this all very destabilizing. So I thought I’d come here and write about it.
And now I have.
Good night.
I recently re-read Brené Browm’s The Gifts of Imperfection. I came across her Sisters Strong Summer podcast episodes and decided to buy the 10th anniversary copy of the book (I read it from the library the first time). I re-read it in less than a week.
I can’t remember which was my first Brené Brown title. I think I have a set of much shorter works on Audible but The Gifts of Imperfection must have been one of the earlier books of her that I read because it was one of her earlier books. As anyone who has read me for a while knows, I’m a big fan of Brené Brown. I may sometimes say that she’s my spirit animal. I’ve read all of her books at least twice (I usually listen to them because I love her narration of her own work – I feel like she’s a friend whose confiding in me rather than an author writing to a massive audience). As I was reading The Gifts of Imperfection again, I was realizing that I was in a much better place than I was the first time I read (or probably listened to) it. And I was thinking of all that was better now, I was recognizing that so much of what was better had little to do with me, and more to do with other people/circumstances/situations in my orbit.
Seven years ago, things were really hard. My marriage was in a rough place. My kids were incredibly challenging. I wasn’t satisfied with my job. I was so lonely that I was participating in paid-for friend-making opportunities! And my finances were a disaster.
My marriage is a lot better now because my husband finally contributes to household and parenting responsibilities equally. I like parenting so much more (better said, I no longer very much dislike parenting most of the time) because my kids are developmentally easier and have outgrown their most challenging behavioral issues. I’m no longer crippling lonely because I happened to find women that I genuinely liked in the mothers of my daughter’s friends and they ended up not only having the time, energy and interest in committing to a friendship, but also like me enough to build that friendship with me. My finances are still a mess, but they are no longer in crises because both my husband and I make more at our jobs (only because we stayed where we were and gradually moved up our respective salary schedules). The only aspect of my life that was resolved by my own mental gymnastics was at work, where I finally decided that any possible professional improvements a new position might afford would probably be balanced out by unforeseen challenges.
To be clear, I was “doing my work” during the last seven years. In the early days I was going to therapy. Later, when my therapist became unavailable, I was reading books to better understand myself and others, to analyze reactions and recognize patterns. I don’t believe all the “self-help” I engaged in was for naught. But I struggle to identify how much of the “better” is due to the work I did, and how much is the result of external circumstances improving. Maybe I’ll never know, and that is will be part of “doing my work” moving forward.
And there is still so much work to do. And I’m here to do it. I know I’ve laid a foundation that is helping me with current perimenopause symptoms and I very much appreciate that. I know I’m managing some rough patches in my marriage better than I have in the past. I guess knowing it helps is enough, and I can be grateful for circumstances improving, even if they were largely outside of my control. Because, of course, much (if not all) of life is.
We made it to Friday!
I never got jury duty!
The soccer pizza party was pushed back and then soccer practice itself was cancelled anyway!
I’m watching Dune tonight!
Vaccines will be available for my kids (barring some totally unforeseen complications) next month! Maybe in a couple of weeks!
We’re getting rain, which we (so, so, so, SOOOOOO) desperately need!
It will probably rain tomorrow which will effectively cancel my son’s birthday party but I really don’t care! (This is true, I’m not just being facetious).
I’m working out right now, which I didn’t think I’d have time to do today! (See soccer practice being cancelled).
My son was very happy with his birthday morning balloons and special birthday morning present!
It’s FRIDAY! YAY!