Happy Birthday

Emerson is one year old today. I can't believe it!

It has been a strange day -- part of me is actually a bit sad. In the sense that I'm never going to see her as a little baby ever again. It should be exciting - I look at early photos of her when she was floppy and unable to smile or hold her head up or sit, and think Wow, she was so boring then. She's a year closer to being able to feed and toilet herself. A year closer to reading and expressing her needs articulately rather than crying or screaming. So my slight sadness doesn't make sense.

Probably part of what I am interpreting as sadness is probably pride and anticipation. I can't wait to get to know her. There is a wide variety of personalities in our family - so she could be anything, really. Will she be like me - conscientious, snarky, and neurotic? Will she be like her dad - filled with all kinds of practical wisdom, quick wit, and patience? Her big brother Thomas - an artist and an encyclopedia of knowledge? Her big brother Scott - shining on stage and in any political discussion? Her quiet grandma or disc-jockey grandpa? Her back-office worker uncle or marketing pro aunt?

All I really know about her so far is that she recognizes laughter when she hears it and chimes right in. And that she constantly has to know what is going on around her - so much so that she can't sleep if there are new people around because they might be fun and she might miss out. These are great qualities and they make me love being around her so much.

I've been kind of an emotional sap lately -- I got teary at the end of the book Em got for her birthday because the hippo was all alone. I got teary at the curtain call of Scott's musical last night because I know they have been working so hard and they all looked so proud about the amazing job they had just done and to be finally recognized publically for it. I get teary when one of my Youth & Govt kids puts their whole self into a speech to get people to vote for their bill or looks proud when hitting the gavel against the desk to adjourn the session. I'll pull out of it and go back to my usual staid self. I'm saying this because I hope to be back to my regularly scheduled voice of outrage soon enough. Possible topic - Why do nurses make such a big deal about dads bringing their own children to the doctor? They are working women...have they worked all this time plus taken off for every personal errand their child needs and never expected their husbands to do the same or didn't have husbands who WANTED to? We have come so far....

Detached

I'm not really sure what I'm hoping to accomplish with this post other than just whining. I have started to feel distant lately. I am superficially friendly with a lot of people, but I don't feel like I ever connect on a level deeper than that anymore. I can count on one hand the number of people who I feel really know me and that I really know in return.

One way of estimating this is the number of people who I would feel comfortable calling in the middle of the night if I had car trouble and needed to be picked up. Other than my husband, I don't think there's anybody in Tulsa right now who wouldn't say "Amanda who?" if I called them. Thank God for cabs, I guess.

This is largely my fault. I became comfortable with simply going to work and coming home. Home is fun. Home is where my best friend is and where my TV is and now where my baby is. I stopped reaching out to people.

I had a great group of friends in 2002-2003 when I first moved to Tulsa. It was a very comfortable group - we would go to movies, out for drinks and dinners, and other stuff. Several nights a week, something was going on. They would talk about their days and bosses and families and crushes, and I would listen and care and talk about the same things with them. The group pretty much withered away - several of us ended up in relationships (with members of the group of friends) and had our need to belong fulfilled without leaving our houses. Some of the more outgoing members left the state to explore opportunities and the rest of us were less prone to take initiative to plan things.

I am quite happy where I am in life but I have become much less social than I want to be. In the past year, I think there have only been about 3 people at our house that weren't family - not counting the plumber and HVAC guys. And the house looks like it too - stacks of clutter everywhere. The master bed has been in the dining room for months due to a cleaning project in the bedroom. In my apartment in Tulsa and later in the house that I bought, I had people over all the time. I'd have groups over for dinner and potluck lunches and offer to host planning meetings for church groups. I *liked* that people liked to be at my house. And the house never had a chance to get dirty or cluttered because I'd always pick up things before the visitors came.

Now I just feel withdrawn. I don't feel like anybody outside of family really *wants* to be with me and I don't like to stick my neck out and try to get to know anybody because they probably won't like me anyway and it will be like the junior high dance all over again.

But at the same time I'm feeling sorry for myself, I too am very picky about who I spend my time with. There are so few people that I feel I have much in common with. If I'm spending time away from my husband and baby (and, OK, the TV), it better be worth my time and not just a 2 hour discussion on mascara application techniques. For practical scheduling reasons, I have to rule out people who like to do things past 8p.m. on weeknights. I rule out people who are too nice, who don't take themselves seriously enough, who take themselves too seriously, who aren't honest, and who aren't snarky.

Despite my snobby standards, I think there are women out there who I should get to know better than just exchanging a quick wave at church or commenting on their Facebook status. I don't want Emerson to grow up to be a complete tool like I am and I'd like for her to get the impression that there's more to evenings and weekends than sitting in front of the TV or laptop.

A hundred different places

I'm basically using this blog as a journal since I don't keep a separate journal anymore. I'm also imposing the "no backspace" rule again except to correct spelling or grammar errors. I've found that it makes me feel less self-conscious and allows me to write more.

I'm exhausted.

I was away in OKC from Thursday afternoon to Saturday evening for a Youth & Govt conference. It's always a whirlwind weekend but I feel good by doing it - much like exercising makes me feel better afterward. One might feel proud of giving up two days with their 11 month old baby in order to spend some time with other people's kids. One should feel proud. But - the whole drive down on Thursday, I was worried about how missing work was going to look. Are they going to think I'm soft and expendable if I take a day off work to prance around the OK Capitol? I worried about this when I had the chance on Friday as well. I was not prancing, actually, but fielding questions and taking care of some logistical stuff that the youth officers aren't in a position to worry about.

Friday night, I started beating myself up for being away from Emerson. Rod has back problems and was not 100% up to taking care of her. I took care of her when I had a 103 fever just fine and didn't think anything of it except that it was something that I had to do when Rod had other things going on. But I was blaming myself for putting Rod in the position of having to strain himself.

Plus I joined this board at church. It is a working board, which requires some commitment outside of meetings once a month. I thought I would "treat" myself to some required time away from work and baby so that I could spend some time giving back to the church that I love and miss. Now I'm starting to feel guilty that this will take away from other places I "should" be.

I am starting to feel like a stereotype. No matter how much I give, it is not enough. It's not that I don't care, it's just that if I spend time working on the Youth & Govt website, that is time that I won't be able to upload pictures for the grandparents to see of Emerson. If I spend an extra hour or two at work so that I can be an important person there, that's time that I won't be able to feed Emerson and read to her. If I spend a Wednesday night directing traffic at church, that's time that I won't be able to stay late at work, work on the Y&G website, or feed or read to Emerson. And so it goes.

A long time ago, I attended a conference workshop intended for teachers. One of the little mantras was "stop shoulding on yourself". I need to be content with what I do and not feel bad about the opportunity costs of doing it. I need to stay away from people who don't thank me for what I do but instead prod me to do more than I want. And every once in a while, it is okay to say "no".

February again already...

This has been by far the quickest year of my life.

This time last year, we were a few weeks away from having Emerson. I remember it as a very happy time. I was excited. We had 3 baby showers among our friends and workplaces. I was wrapping things up at work to be gone for 6 weeks, so I didn't get stressed out much there. I could eat whatever I wanted. The baby was still safely inside - I knew where she was at all times, and a good kick now and then was enough to let me know everything was going OK.

Despite all the good things that were afoot, I think I also remember that time as happy because of all the free time I had. We saw 3 of the Best Picture nominees in the theater, a place I haven't been in a year. I had a good hour or so every night to do nothing but cross stitch stuff for the baby's room. Lots of time for writing and shopping and cleaning and going to church.

I still enjoy all of these things, but mornings and evenings and weekends are shorter these days. They're much shorter for a good reason - I'm not saying I have any regrets. But I would advise all potential parents to enjoy their free time while they have it.

I'm in the process of trying to reclaim some of the free time that I had before. I'm joining a board at church - not exactly "free" time, but any time that I'm not taking care of the baby seems like free time. Plus it will allow me to reconnect with old friends that I don't see very much. I'm writing right now, thanks to Rod feeding the baby and getting her to sleep.

I hate that time will apparently pass at this rate from now on. I doubt I'll get that much more time to myself later on - with softball games and parent/teacher conferences to go to. But I'm learning to put extra value on the few minutes a day I get of it, as well as high value on the time I get to spend with the awesome little person who is growing up right in front of me.

What a catch....

I saw this live on Hardball the other night. Toward the end, Former House Majority Leader Dick Armey tells Editor-in-chief of Salon.com Joan Walsh that "I'm so damn glad that you could never be my wife, cause I surely wouldn't have to listen to that prattle from you every day."

Not only does he dismiss what she has to say on the basis of her gender, he seems to imply that everything wives in general say is "prattle". Too bad this one is taken, girls.

To me, this "soft" sexism is the scariest thing about gender relations. We can fix things like equal pay and access to contraception, but when a certain portion of the male population doesn't think that women have value beyond nagging their husbands, this is much harder to fix.