SAD about Winter

So, I never blog anymore.  Apparently.  Not sure what's up with that.

This winter has been a doozy for a lot of people.  Record cold and lots of snow and so on.  I have been fortunate enough to spend maybe 10 days in what most people consider "real" winter weather, but I'm still so over it.  My winters mostly result in me blacking out half the map for travel destinations.  I completely realize that I am the problem, and not everyone else, but the fact remains- I have thin blood and a bad attitude.  I can NEVER get warm!  It's super depressing and I go into hibernation mode.  I have serious and growing problems with Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I'm in New York right now and have a hard time getting motivated to do anything because even though the sun is shining, it's just so dang cold.  Especially when the wind whips between the buildings.  I keep thinking, "Maybe if there were Christmas decorations I'd feel better about it."  But I don't really want it to be Christmas time either.  I'll be back in three weeks and I'm hoping for a dramatic improvement by then.

On top of my lack of excitement for all things not related to summertime, I am coping with the fact that we're in the middle of the most depressing move we've ever had to make.

From Austin, possibly the coolest city in the entire country, to Salt Lake, where they've had an average temperature of 30 degrees this winter.  It's been nearly a year since I've even visited Salt Lake and I don't miss it at all.  I've spent the last thirteen years setting a precarious balance of distance and interaction with family and it's all coming tumbling down.  I think the reason this is the roughest move we've had is because of the drastic change (from love to hate) and the fact that we're making it during the worst time of year.  There are two silver linings:  1) We'll be closer to the nieces and nephews for a bit and 2) I can pull my stuff out of storage and get rid of everything before our next move.

Still, the worst feeling in the world is never ever wanting to go home.  And I feel that way already.

Rest assured, this will not be our resting place.  I am anxiously counting down to our next move to somewhere sunny and warm.  Until then, I'll be hibernating approximately nine months out of the year.

Weighing Me Down

I feel like I've had so many heavy things on my mind lately.

Starting with death.  (Yeah, we're not easing in here).

I went to the doctor for my annual exam, four years later mind you, and she found a giant lump in my right breast.  Not the size of a pea, not the size of a marble, but maybe the size of a grape.  And not a regular size grape, a Costco size grape.  Those big plump ones.  Anyway, when she suggested I get it looked at I was initially calm.  This happened once before and it turned out to be nothing at all.  So I scheduled an appointment for an ultrasound about ten days out (the soonest they could see me).  In the meantime, my calm started fading.  I told a few people close to me and did some light internet searching.  I'm one of those people who prepares for the worst and then no matter what, you get good news.  This was a long time for these thoughts to fester.  I started planning out my last year of life if that's all the time they gave me.

The day had finally come and I headed to a women's health center to get it tested.  The place reeked of life changing news.  Not only that, but it was breast cancer awareness month and the place was slathered in ribbons and anything else pink.  I thought of the irony of being informed in an atmosphere such as this.  Even though I realize that the radiologist surely didn't break the news... or did he/she?

The ultrasound went smooth, but the nurse was a little concerned after feeling the lump and she got the radiologist concerned as well.  Next thing I know I'm sitting in a waiting room, alone and topless (draped), waiting for my first mammogram approximately ten years early.  The mammogram itself was weird, based mainly on the fact that the technician held, molded, squished, and kneaded my breast like it was a piece of meat or something.

After that I was free to go and they said there was no cause for concern.  I fled through the pepto bismal room and met with my doctor the following week.  She said not only is there no cause for concern, but there are literally no red flags.  Thank goodness I covered the topics of a) what to do with my belongings and b) how to pick out your next wife with my husband.  At least we're prepared.

Actually, I'm relieved that it's nothing... except that it's not nothing.  I still have a grape in my boob.  So there's that.  Turns out (surprise, surprise) that the doctor has no clue either and from here we watch and wait.  Oh the joys.

Next up: trauma.  So then there's this hurricane.

The Mr. has school in New York this week and we were set to fly out Tuesday/Wednesday.  I've been looking forward to this trip for months, so I was pretty set on going.  The hurricane didn't worry me much.  I mean, I did live in Florida for a fair amount of time and everyone knows that the aftermath is worse than the storm itself.  But then the airports closed and my husband's flight got changed no less than six times.  I finally cancelled but sent him on ahead because apparently Columbia Business School resumes the day after no tomorrow, or even during.  Acts of God have no place there.

I know he's fine.  The worst part of something like this is getting stuck or losing everything.  He has nothing there to lose and he has plenty of people who would happily take him in.  But then I get all worked up watching the news and feeling helpless and thinking of extreme circumstances in which he might never come home, and it just makes me want to be together.

On a happy note, everyone I know in the greater New York area is alive, safe, and well taken care of.  I do have a friend who lost everything and my heart is breaking for her.  I know a few people who in the past lost their homes to fire and literally had to start over from the ground up.  They say it was the worst, most testing time of their lives, but that looking back it was such a growing experience.  So I know my other friend will be ok too.  Looking at pictures of all the wreckage just tears me up inside though, thinking of how I'd feel if it were me.

Oh and also, my best friend has been in the children's hospital for the past two days with her newborn who needs surgery and her eight year old who had surgery on his broken arm.  Neither one of them is entirely serious, but just extremely stressful.  And her sister lives in New York.  Sheesh.

And last: the passing of time.

Mr. had his birthday last week and mine is right around the corner.  So are the holidays and a brand new year.  I mean, I think about these things a lot, so it's not like this is a new topic or anything.  Sometimes it's a blessing as a new year means my husband is almost half way through grad school.  But sometimes it's harder knowing that we are still right here in many of the same places.  I've been feeling genuinely happy and grateful for how well life is going lately.  Grateful almost to the point of guilt.  I know it's just part of my search to fill my days with not only tasks, but meaning, and I continue to try and do so.

Time is passing, we are forging through trials, and no one is dying yet.  I know somewhere in the grand scheme of things that God has a plan for us.  I have been intently focused on that as I experience things in life and wonder WHY?  I guess all I can do in the moment is live for today.

Election Year

Generally I try to use this blog to voice my opinions without getting overly controversial.  I try to stay away from political or religious heavy topics, and just touch lightly on the subjects from how I view them in the context of personal experiences.  But I think for just a moment, I'm going to make an exception.  It is an election year after all, and it's hard to have much else on your mind with the election itself only two weeks away.

There's a lot to be said about each candidate and honestly, none of it matters to me.  Republican vs. Democrat has become such an embarrassment for us as a country and we hold a very Libertarian household.  What is a Libertarian you might ask?  A friend once said it best, "It means you want the government to get the hell out of your life."  Simple as that and yet not simple at all.

I'm tired of the country handing us two candidates, both owned by the political party they embrace, backed by dirty money that expects their agenda to be followed pending election, and giving us the illusion that any of it is OUR CHOICE.  That's just BS.

We live in a complex world that will never be anywhere near perfect.  Without a doubt, I believe it will continue to get worse before it gets any better, as a whole.  I will be voting and I can guarantee that I will not participate in the process of elected dictatorship.  What has happened to liberty and democracy?

I think I grew up in a Republican household.  I say I think because my dad never said a word about it and my mom never declared it but always planted Republican ideals in my mind.  This was not apparent through her love of Republicans so much as her distaste for Democrats.  I don't know if I have a core rebellious nature or common sense just kicked in early, but even at the most basic level I knew I was just a little bit more Democrat, even though the social ideals of my religion seemed to coordinate with the Republican agenda.  As a grew older I realized I couldn't side with either one completely.  That's when things started to get weird, because Americans seemed so passionate about their party affiliation and I could not find a way in my mind to agree with one side completely.  It just seemed like everyone had something to bring to the table just the same as they had skeletons in their closets.  Imagine my surprise when I learned about more than two parties!

Our system is corrupt even at the most basic level.  Our country is in crisis a every turn, many of which I have felt the effects very personally.  It just seems that if we continue choosing between two forms of poison, or the lesser of two evils as most say, then we are still hurting ourselves.  It's time for real change.  If we don't vote our conscience now, we never will.  Fact: whomever I vote for will not be the next president, but that doesn't change my mind.  America needs to know that we have options, real options, and I will vote for any third party who will help us get to that point.  There will never be any change if we don't demand it.

On the Road Again

I once attended some sort of shark seminar at the Monterey Bay Aquarium with the Mr.  They showed us a tracking map of the sharks they had tagged and followed to learn more about their behavior and patterns.  Today, in one of the three airports I found myself in, I wondered what my map would look like if someone were tracking me.  Or even better, tracking me and the husband.

I imagined someone tagging me with a gps the way Walter White helps Hank track Gus in Breaking Bad.  

I don't mean to seem braggart or ungrateful, but I'd have been happy to stay home this week.  Turns out that our new city is really growing on me.  Husband is overseas at school this week and I needed to squeeze some work in, so here I am in the sunshine state.  Even people with no real jobs have to work sometimes!  And I love the work.  I'm just.... tired.

Maybe it's a combination of too many airport scans, or carrying luggage with a mildly injured back, or the changing weather that brings with it the infections and viruses of the season and causes my arthritis to flare up, or... maybe I'm just getting old.  I feel like there are so many things weighing on my mind lately and I know I could be getting a lot done.

Even with my "over it" attitude, I am very excited to see friends and family this week.  I feel myself growing apart from the things that once meant the world to me and it makes me a bit sad.  That's why I was happy to see this:

It's this old unimpressive sign at the airport and every time I see it I think, "Really Orlando?  Some 50 million visitors a year and you can't update your welcome sign?"  (and trust me when I say it looks much more haggard than when this picture was taken).  But then it occurred to me that when the sign changes I'll also feel sad that this one is gone, if only because I take a mental note of it so frequently.  It has a way of saying that amongst constant change, it's still the place I love and remember so fondly.

It reminds me of a video rental store in the little town I grew up in- Cosmos Video on Main Street.  It's the kind of place where you can still rent VHS tapes after you've chosen the cover from the shelf and exchange it for the actual movie in the brown case.  Last time I was in there they still kept records on file via rolodex.  I check to see if it's still standing every time I drive by and sure enough, a lasting memory from my childhood!  It seems like everything else has changed there.  Numerous video stores have come and gone, the local grocer relocated down the street in a new building, about 15,000 more people have moved in, and I've lost count of the traffic lights they've added (to my recollection there was only the one).  My cousins moved out of their house to make way for Wendy's.  But still stands Cosmos Video, a familiar face amongst a sea of strangers.  

To be completely honest, I don't care much if it goes (Cosmos or the welcome sign), but it's been long enough now that I will remember these things forever, resembling a constant amid so much change.

House Sweet Home

I've just returned from three weeks of vacation.  It was wonderful and interesting and loads of fun.  However, I have returned with a nasty head cold, back pain, and overwhelming exhaustion.  Such is life.  And as a fun addition we have been nicely evicted from the corporate apartment we've been living in for the last six months.  This means that not only did I have to pack my suitcases, but my whole domain before we left and have returned to a place that is entirely new to me.  I don't know where anything is and I am counting my lucky stars that the former resident/landlord left us a bed and some other crucial home necessities.

Which brings me to the house.  HOUSE, people.  Not only is it one of my favorite television dramas, it's also the best kind of place to live.  I'll admit that apartment living can at times be more convenient, and definitely less expensive, but it is never as nearly luxurious.  It has me pining for one of my own again and I thought that would take three times the amount of calendar days that have passed for me to say it out loud again.

The sitch: landlord is in the process of selling this place and subsidizing her losses by letting us pathetic folk live in it on a month to month basis until it sells.  The rent is cheap, the living is large, and I no longer have to cover my ears when I hear the neighbors while wondering, "what the hell is going on up there?!"  Sharing walls is so uncivilized.  Human beings need more space and ample amounts more privacy.

Anyway, the highlight of living here besides grass (grass! We didn't even have this in our own home!) is that the garage is attached to the home.  This means that I can park my car about 30 feet from where I sleep.  That's the dream, people.

Landlord lady (who is actually probably younger and significantly more well adjusted than me) has left little reminders of her presence over the past five years.  A few nails in the wall, a scuff on the door, faded fingerprints on the thermostat, and things of the like.  It's really sweet because I remembered as I packed up my own home after three years of living in it that all of these little imperfections symbolized the life we had had there.  It made me feel really sentimental and although we don't have children and our milestones are not yet that significant, I thought of my neighbor telling me that when she left her last home all she pictured as she walked out was her kids all taking their first steps in the living room in a way that was reminiscent of that scene in You've Got Mail when Meg Ryan closes her book shop and pictures her twirling with her mother.  Landlord lady told me that she was sentimental about selling this place because it was her first house.  For her sake I hope it sells soon, but for our sake I want to stay forever.  I'm in love.

And just maybe I'll get over my bitterness of owning a home and bite the bullet again someday.  I love it here.

Like Sand Through a Sieve

Nine years ago I became a nanny for a short time.  I was temporarily filling in as a relief nanny when, since my sister (the former nanny) left, the family had a hard time replacing her.  My time was numbered in months, but I have so many cherished memories and unexpected emotions from living with such a sweet family (verdict is out on whether I'd have labeled them such at the time).

The kids- E, B, and S- were nine, seven, and four respectively.  I turned 22 while living with them and in a bit of a life rut.  I remember the mother joking about doing some soul searching and said, "I hope that's not what you're trying to do here."  It was never what I had in mind and I didn't plan for it, but I've realized my time there has reaped all it's rewards in long term benefits.

I know that this family would never embrace me the way they did my sister.  She was adored by them in every possible way and I had no intentions of living up to that.  Still, there was a sweetness they conveyed to me through their affection for her.  I also found it valuable in my relationship with my sister, which had always been a little rocky, that they loved her so deeply.

There are many horror stories to be told from the nanny diaries, but I was very lucky in the way they treated me.  Socially I always knew where I stood at any given moment and for 99% of the time, that was as a family friend and not "the help."  I loved those kids and grew so affectionate for them in such a brief time.  I don't think it was merely a matter of circumstances.

I've had the sheer pleasure of keeping in touch with them, sharing weddings, Bar/Bat Mitvahs, birthdays, and casual meals when passing through town (working both ways).  But tonight I find myself in their home, spending ten days with E while the rest of the family is away.  As you surely understand, E is no longer a child in need of care, but a beautiful young woman headed to Harvard in a matter of weeks.  I'm here mainly for the sake of company on both our parts.  We enjoyed a really nice evening together and I'm excited to get to share more of that over the next week or so.  Although it's not the first time it's happened regarding them, I can't help but feel sentimental.

I never enjoyed Mary Poppins as a child, but as an adult I adore it.  It makes me tear up nearly every time I watch it now.  I'm not claiming to be any kind of magic worker like Mary Poppins or anything, but I think I can relate to her in sharing joy from watching a family grow together and succeed.

As a nanny you often feel like a puppet, doing a job by someone else's command.  I'd often lie in bed at night and wonder what kind of relationship my sister and I would have with these kids in the future (if any).  It was hard for me to imagine interacting with them as adults.  As they have become just that, I marvel at the wonderful people they are becoming.  I can't emphasize how miniscule my role was in their lives, but I still feel such great joy thinking that I may have been a part of it.

As the past ten years have literally flown by, they have grown into these amazing people.  I feel like those children are shadows of the greatness they are today, and yet by comparison I feel so unchanged.  I feel a pang of tenderness as I think of all the time that has passed, all while feeling like it's stood still.

I've felt an astute awareness of the passing of time lately, and I can't help but think of Bert's words to Mr. Banks near the conclusion of Mary Poppins:


You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone... Though childhood slips like sand through a sieve... And all too soon they've up and grown, and then they've flown... And it's too late for you to give


It's bittersweet.  Fortunately I've been able to have this feeling before having my own children and I surely don't intend on letting it pass me by.

You don't have to state the obvious.

A while back my friend Melissa moved to a new city and was essentially starting a new life after school and what not.  It was a lot of big changes all at once and she claimed that it was always what she wanted to do.  Still, those close to her could see the tide of uncertainty in her eyes.  I knew she would be just fine.  After all, I've been through many a transition of that nature and there's always an adjustment period.  It was clear to see that Melissa was going through this, but she felt it necessary to "prove" to everyone that she was living her dream by stating "I am so happy.  I am just so happy here!"

Part of this was a good thing- it was obvious that she wanted to be happy there and that it would eventually come.  The bad part was how unconvincing it was- if she were really happy in the moment then she wouldn't have to make the statement over and over again.  Literally, she said it to me and my husband five times during one meal.  When mutual friends had seen her they'd say to me, "Melissa seems good.  She seems happy," and I'd immediately counter with, "Yes, I'm sure she told you just that."

The happily ever after for Melissa is that she has now been living there for about three years.  She never talks about how happy she is anymore because it is so apparent.  She's in a good place and she doesn't feel the need to convince anyone of it.

I can't say I've never had this problem.  The biggest that comes to mind is that I'm famous for being on my death bed and telling every one who sees me, "I'm reeeeaaaaaallly sick."  Duh.

I'm working on it.

Lately my friend Britney has me pondering this idea because she keeps stating things that are so obviously not true, but no doubt she wants them to be.

Examples?

"I'm more secure with myself the longer I'm married."
"I honestly don't care what my mother-in-law thinks."
"I don't really need friends.  I'm just not in that stage of life."

It's not the statements themselves that raise a red flag, but rather her contradictory actions and the repetition.  I mean, if she were so overly confident, would we not see that?  If she were not concerned about her mother-in-law wouldn't we see that?    If she didn't need friends, wouldn't she stop trying so hard?

It just goes to prove that the most obvious statement you can make is through your actions.  These words seem like a desperate plea to be something you're not, and in most cases, the exact opposite of what you are.