avocado8

We Interrupt This Woman

Just a quick post to say that I'm still alive, if not exactly thriving. I actually feel like I'm coming apart at the seams a bit—the demands of work, speaking, motherhood, housework, travel, and my spouse's work have combined to suck me very nearly dry.

There've been some high points over the past few weeks, but there've been some very, very low ones, too. I've been reluctant to talk about it here because (a) it's public, and though I sometimes *seem* like a very public person... well, there's a limit; and (b) I'm still sorting it all out. I hope to have some regular happy/photo-y/rant-y/beaner-y posts up soon, but if I can't manage, I hope you'll bear with me. I'll be bold in your RSS reader again someday.

Steps, Forward and Back

I was saying to a friend today that it feels like for every step forward I take, I take another (bigger?) one backwards. Maybe because I get excited about being happy for a bit, and think it's going to last... and when it doesn't, I'm disappointed in addition to sad. I'm hoping that eventually the steps forward will be bigger than the ones backward. I'm clinging to that.

In the meantime, I've asked for the next two days off from work, partly to get a bit of a break from it, but mostly so I can complete some tasks in my personal life. I want to feel a sense of accomplishment, which will hopefully breed an enthusiasm and confidence that I can bring back with me to work. Of course, the to-do list I have for those two days would fit better in two *weeks*, and I need to be careful about setting myself up for failure. I might just sleep for two days, and call it an accomplishment—because hey, at least I'll be caught up on *something*.

way out for the living

This photo is very compelling to me right now. I need to print it out and hang it on my wall.

I have a post half-written about all the photos I've been uploading to Flickr lately—in my experience, when you upload in ginormous batches, most individual shots get only 1 or 2 views each unless you take the time to add them to various group pools—and that's been the case with almost everything I uploaded since September. I haven't gotten around to finishing that post, mainly because I started to digress into the vagaries of the Vivitar, which required uploading to my site those mis-fires that didn't make it to Flickr. In the interest in just POSTING ALREADY, here are some photos you might have missed:

I've been going bonkers with the Vivitar. I *love* taking it on my morning walks—and everywhere else. I love that it's focus-free, quiet, and light, and that I never know what I'm going to get. See all photos tagged with vivitarIC101 here.

I went to Chicago for Adobe MAX 2007 last week, and I got to go on not one but TWO photowalks with friends. On Monday I met Lori for the first time, and on Tuesday I went out with my friend Winsha, who was also there for MAX.

I've been going nuts with the bicycle shots these days. The more I photograph them, the more I *want* to photograph them.

Un-Pinking

My annual rant against breast cancer in general and the pinking of the disease more particularly is over at Pink For October this year. I wasn't going to bother, since blogging is obviously low on my priority list right now, but when Matthew Oliphant posted this photo in his Flickr stream, I couldn't resist.

As I mentioned at the top of the pink post, I'm going purple for October. As I did last month, I'm doing it as a two step process because I ran out of steam after bleaching. :-) At the moment my hair is mostly white with pink streaks on top. I'm thinking of leaving the white and using the pink streaks as a guide for where to put the purple, but I'll decide for sure later. Oh, and I took the clippers to my head prior to bleaching.

Stage 2

The purple is in.

Also, after a disastrous return to work yesterday (duh, I *knew* I was pushing it with the non-waterproof mascara!), today is a better day. The crisp fall weather is finally here, I woke up with an idea of what was causing the bug I spent hours on yesterday, and, most importantly, Al is becoming incredibly expert at cheering me up. What's more, he enjoys doing it—cheering me cheers him. SO glad I married that guy (5 years ago last Saturday!).

can you feel the wacky?

One thing that cheered me up on day off #2 (prior to the disastrous return to work) was reading through my blog archives. I didn't intend to do it—I was mostly in there fixing all the references to Flickr photos that broke when I made my Beaner photos Private/Friends & Family Only—but I started looking to see which Beaner milestones I'd reported on and which I hadn't, and I got sucked in. I thought to myself, "hey, I'm actually kind of good at this blogging thing. I'm even funny sometimes." Well, I crack myself up, at least, which suits my purposes at the moment.

Speaking of the Beaner, I'm not going to beat myself up about not having written the School post yet. I'll just offer a few bullet points for now:

• He's enjoying it
• I'm starting to think that they tell the kids, "when your parents ask, 'what did you do today,' the answer is "I DON'T KNOW."
• Al drops him off in the morning, and he climbs the stairs to his classroom on his own now.
• I like picking him up. He looks for me between the railings on the stairs and shouts, "Mommy!" and waves. Very sweet.
• He wants a lunchbox like B_____'s, he's friends with A______, and he points out other kids in his class as we leave each day.
• He's sometimes dismayed at the drawings that his teacher sends home in the Friday folder. "I don't like that one. I can do better than that."
• The fall picnic is tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing more kids & parents together (I've met many of the moms/nannies who pick up their kids, but I'm not always sure which kid belongs to whom).

[Pretend there's a transition here.]

Last night I was really struggling to keep it together, and eventually I just stopped trying and sat on the floor in the kitchen with tears streaming down my face. "Are you happy or sad?" the Beaner asked. Then he saw the tears, and I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't really need me to answer, though I did. "Sad." He sat down next to me and tilted his head to look me in the eye. "Why are you sad, Mommy?" I started to explain, but got stuck on where to start. "Well, it's a combination of factors..."

The Beaner interrupted me. "Are you sad because Daddy's not home yet?" I smiled and said, "yes, that's one of the reasons I'm sad."

"Don't worry, Mommy," he said. "Daddy will be home soon."

When did my son become so grown up? So stoic? Lest you think he's like this all the time, I should mention that we are firmly in the "but I don't WANT to!" phase. At bedtime last night he about drove me crazy with the whining about wanting to have a picnic, and he seemed to purposely fail to understand my explanations about choosing one OR the other of two options, not both. As in, you can watch Blues Clues OR have a picnic, but not both. You can have chocolate OR vanilla, but not both. But I want chocolate AND vanilla! OK, kid, let me explain OR again...

He finally conked out under protest—and I mean that literally. As I extracted myself from under his little body, he flopped over and moaned, "but I want to have a PICNIC!"

And then he was silent.

So... I'm In San Francisco

Yeah. Title says it all, really. I didn't explain in my last post that one of the things that cheered me up on Friday was the decision very late Thursday night, after the disastrous work day, to fly out to the SF office for a week. I used frequent flier miles, I was so desperate to get out here and see my colleagues. So far it's helping; I'll have a better idea of where I'm at when I return to Philly and see if I can keep it together.

Today's actually Work @ Home Wednesday on the Dreamweaver team, so aside from two other colleagues who came in because it's quieter than at home, I'm here by myself. Not that different than working at home as I usually do, except that there's more room to roam around, and it's only the Dreamweaver team that works at home on Wednesdays. I can go visit my friends on the Flex team across the hall if I get lonely. Mostly I'm trying to use the quiet time to do some intensive bug-fixing that's hard to do when I'm in face-to-face meetings all day.

Because my body clock is a little messed up and I don't have the regular schedule I do at home, I've been walking/MUNIing to work in lieu of my normal morning walk at home. I've of course been taking photos while I walk, so my morning walk and about town: san francisco sets have been growing. My plan this morning was to finish up the roll of expired 400MAX that was in the Vivitar on my way in, drop it off at the Walgreens on Townsend for processing, continue on to work, and then pick up the CD and negs at lunchtime.

Sadly, however, it was rather dark when I left the hotel at 7:18am (I checked the time when I realized the streetlights were still on), and the low clouds meant that it hadn't brightened much by 8am. I knew I wouldn't get much, as the Vivitar doesn't seem to do well in low light—something I'd mostly chalked up to the expired film, but without really knowing why. Then Bob said something in the comments on this photo about a pack of expired film not even coming CLOSE to its stated speed rating, and I had an "aha, that's the reason" moment. I wouldn't be surprised to find that the expired 400MAX is more like 100 or 200 at best.

So anyway, as predicted, the shots I took with the Vivitar this morning did not come out. Or rather, I can tell in most of them what I was photographing, but they're otherwise unsalvageable. The ones I took on Saturday at the Beaner's school picnic came out relatively fine (with a couple double-exposures), as did the ones I took here yesterday. The only problem was that the photo guy at Walgreens clipped the black mask out of the frame. It never occurred to me that he'd do that, so I didn't think to specify NO CLIPPING.

I'm now trying to decide whether to put the last roll of expired 400MAX (which I brought with me) into the camera, or whether I should buy a fresh roll to shoot with and compare. I could also test-shoot the camera I bought for the Beaner this morning for $8; it's a film camera, and every time you bring the film to Walgreens for processing, they reload the camera with a fresh roll. I think that'll make more sense to him than the disposable camera I gave him when we went apple picking; he keeps asking me, "where's my camera? you gave me a camera, mommy." He doesn't understand that we exchanged the camera for the prints, and now he won't have to.

Oh, and I also brought the Finepix with me. As much as I love the 10-D, it's quite nice to have only pocket-sized cameras to manage.

Test Week

I'm back from San Francisco and eager to see if the trip helps me get through this week. I suspect it will, if for no other reason than I have some small, specific tasks to work on which will be relatively easy to complete. Many small successes are exactly what I need right now.

It was great to see some of my colleagues face-to-face, too. I often say that 90% of the time, working from home is perfect. The other 10% of the time, I miss the random conversations that happen when you're in the office. As great as e-mail, phone, and especially IM are, they're no substitute from gophering—popping up from your cube to say to a neighbor, "hey, do you know how...?" For one thing, you're likely to get an answer faster. For another—and this is the really important part—the person you ask might not be the one who answers. Instead, someone within earshot may say, "oh, I know..." And if nobody within earshot knows, someone will at least make a suggestion about who does.

In addition to gophering, there are also serendipitous conversations that happen, sometimes because someone you haven't seen in a while stops by to say hello, or, more often, because you overhear others talking about something interesting and join in. I so miss those "oh hey, I was just thinking about that, too!" moments... to the extent that when I'm visiting the office, I spend a good portion of my time daydreaming about moving back to the Bay Area. I forget that 90% of the time, working at home is perfect for me.

So anyway, I'm back in Philadelphia, and I'm looking forward to this week. Looking forward to diving back into the code with renewed vigor, to appreciating the benefits of working at home, to wearing non-waterproof mascara with confidence. Oh, and I'm looking forward to turning 39 on Friday.

My motto for the week (which may only be appreciated by my fellow engineers):

with props to Chris Bank for the inspiration

Happy Bean

We are all doing better over here. The Beaner is adjusting to the school routine, I am coping better, and Al isn't having to work such crazy hours anymore. I think we're all feeding off each other; as one of us improves, so do the others. It's a nice trend, spiraling upward rather than downward.

Tonight the Beaner tugged me out of my office chair at exactly 8:30 and announced that it was time for me to put him to bed. He instructed me how to snuggle him properly ("you can put your arm around me now" and "I need to snuggle your neck. Can you open up your neck more? Try turning that way."), told me how much he loved me, and was out by 8:41. That's my kind of bedtime routine!

Al and I have been talking about how the bedtime routine seems to go much more smoothly when the Beaner gets an adequate amount of playtime with us. This is where the connection to the downward vs. upward spiral comes in; when I was falling apart and Al was working all the time, the Beaner didn't get the kind of face/play time that he obviously craved, and it showed up in him being more difficult. Him being difficult made things more difficult for us, which make things more difficult for the Beaner, etc. We've been doing our best to increase the amount of quality time we spend with the Beaner, doing the things *he* wants to do, because it makes life better for all of us.

I can't remember if I mentioned it here or not, but we figured out pretty quickly that having Aura come later so that the Beaner and I could eat lunch, play a bit, and just have some uninterrupted time together after I picked him up from school was a Good Thing. I'd originally wanted her to come from 12:30 to 6:30, but Al thought 6:30 wasn't necessary, and noon would help me out more. As it turns out, it helps me more (on the days that I don't have a noon meeting, at least) to have the time with the Beaner. He feels more secure, more loved, less abandoned. He's much less likely to cling to my leg and say, "I don't like Aura" when I announce that I'm going back upstairs to work if he has my full attention for 30 or 40 minutes before Aura comes.

Today was a noon meeting day, but I felt like we really made the most out of the 15 minutes we had between the time I picked him up from school and the time I had to run upstairs. It was drizzling/sprinkling out, so we each had umbrellas—which meant I couldn't carry him home the way I usually do. Instead we walked side by side, occasionally holding hands.

The Beaner's umbrella was slightly larger than mine, and he found it unwieldy to hold the umbrella and my hand at the same time, so he asked if we could switch. I said yes, and then immediately regretted talking myself out of bringing my camera with me when I left to pick him up (why would I need the camera? I thought, when the idea of bringing it occurred to me). I ended up taking a snap of him with my cell phone, and then asking him to wait outside on the front step while I ran in to get my 10-D. He then proceeded to be a total ham with the umbrella, mostly refusing to lift it so I could get a shot of his face (but in a way that was meant to be funny, not petulant).

above, with the cameraphone; below, with the Canon

When we went inside, he pulled out the Let's Cut Paper! book that Kristin and Donna gave him as a present last night and said he wanted to play with it. (Interestingly, I'd flipped through the very same book at Tony & Maria's house last month, and it was the reason why I bought a pair of kid-sized safety scissors for the flight back from San Francisco on Sunday: It planted the seed in my head that perhaps the Beaner would enjoy cutting things up.) I told him that I had a meeting at noon, and his scissors were all the way upstairs, so we couldn't play with the book until the end of the day. He was a bit sad, but as I was promising him for a second time that we'd play with it at the end of the day, Aura came in and distracted him a bit. He did walk over and put his arm around my leg for a second, but when I didn't make an immediate dash for the stairs, he let go.

[This is getting rather long and will probably be totally boring to the non-parents—and maybe to the parents, too—but now that I've started down this road I want to finish the whole boring thread.]

At the end of the day my biggest priority was getting some food into my stomach; I'd gotten stuck upstairs when the Beaner and Aura started baking muffins in the kitchen at about 3:30 or 4pm. (I don't come down during working hours unless they're out or they're having quiet time.) I remembered on the way downstairs about the scissors, however, and returned to retrieve them.

The Beaner bounded up the stairs from the basement wearing a half crown/half jester hat that Aura had made for him, and I showed him the scissors. He got very excited, and we set about looking for his Let's Cut Paper! book together. I got him set up with a picture of a dog and some directions on how to cut along the gray lines, and then I got out the ingredients for dinner. I was making the low-fat bean and cheese quesadillas that we'd sampled at Trader joe's the other night, and they were pretty easy to assemble and cook, so I had time to help the Beaner with his cutting as I worked. It ended up being the perfect mix of play time and productive time, with me being able to stuff some much-needed nourishment down my gullet, and the Beaner's quesadilla being ready right when he started to get bored with the scissors.

As it happened, Al came home just as the quesadilla was delivered to the Beaner, and his own was ready shortly thereafter. We all went down to the basement to eat and play. After a little bit, Al suggested that we play Guitar Hero, which I haven't had a chance to try at our house yet, despite the fact that we picked up a second guitar a couple weeks ago. The Beaner said he wanted to play, and Al said, "let Mommy play first." He said, "no, I want to play first." I argued the point for a second, then decided it didn't matter that much to me. I wasn't done with my dinner anyway. "You want to go first?" I asked. "YES!" he replied. So I adjusted the strap for him, and set him up.

Al reminded me that in order to do the tutorial, you had to use the wired guitar, not the wireless one. I said, "well, just play a real song, then." Al picked Heart Shaped Box, and the Beaner got the hang of rocking out (if not hitting the notes at the right time) immediately.

When the song was over he graciously handed the guitar to me so I could have a turn (Message in a Bottle), and then I gave it back so he could play again and I could take the dishes upstairs. I could hear them down there playing with the tutorial (Al switched the inputs so the Beaner could use the wireless guitar) while I cleaned up, and that's when I realized it was only 7:15pm. Normally we're rushing to get the Beaner up to the tub at closer to 8pm after going out to eat, running errands, or making dinner. I called downstairs, "hey, why don't you go play with your squid [another gift from Kristin and Donna—I need to post the video of it swimming around the tub last night to Vimeo] in the bathtub now, and then you'll have time to play some more when you get out!"

The Beaner agreed, and he and Al marched upstairs around 7:30 or so... where the Beaner proceeded to remove his clothes and place them on top of the laundry pile all by himself. (The Montessori education is totally paying off!) He also bathed himself (Al washed his hair), got out when he was done, and retrieved his towel by himself.

Which brings us to a little Calliou, a little Overhaulin', and the tug on my sleeve at 8:30. He got his fill of face time with mom and dad, and he went to bed happy. That, and the fact that the Red Sox just won game 2 of the World Series, makes me happy.

Let's Get This Party Started!

Last night when I put the Beaner to bed I told him that tomorrow would be my birthday, so when I came in to wake him up in the morning, I'd say, "good morning, sunshine!", and he could reply, "happy birthday, Mommy!"

I held up my end of the bargain, but he forgot. "Is there something you want to tell me?" I asked. He looked thoughtful, but I could tell he wasn't going to come up with it. "Happy birthday, Mommy!" I whispered in his ear.

"It's your birthday?!" he exclaimed, jumping off my lap. "Where are the hats?? We need Blues Clues hats! And we need to set up the house!"

"Set up the house?" I asked.

"You know, for YOUR BIRTHDAY."

"Do you mean, decorate it with balloons?"

"Yes! And paper!" [I think he meant streamers.]

"OK, well, I'll see if I can find hats and balloons while I'm out on my morning walk."

"Will M___ be coming over with presents?"

"No honey, you're thinking of YOUR birthday. It's *my* birthday, so there probably won't be any presents."

"But you GOT to have presents!"

"Well, when you're 39, there often aren't any presents. Or maybe just one present. It's not such a big deal at this age."

[He repeats that I must have presents.]

"Presents are more of a kid thing..." I started, but I lost heart. Why ruin it for him? Birthdays are supposed to be BIG! IMPORTANT! OCCASIONS! WITH PRESENTS!

I think we'll be stopping at Target on our way down to Virginia tonight to pick up supplies. And maybe even presents.

Happy birthday also to Victor Grigorieff, Hillary Rodham Clinton, and especially to Heather B. Rock on, my fellow October 26 Scorpios!

Who Needs Target?

For those of you wondering what happened at Target on Friday—did we get party hats? did we get presents?—an update. It was not necessary to buy presents at Target because when I came down to the kitchen at the (early) end of my workday, I found a bag from the AT&T store sitting on the counter. I tracked Al down and said, "did you buy me an iPhone?" He smiled and nodded.

AL BOUGHT ME AN iPHONE.

I've been wanting a PDA/PIM/phone for a while now—I've been traveling a lot for work, and trying to keep my schedule straight and my e-mail correspondence up to date has been daunting—but my current Verizon contract doesn't end until March. I figured I'd get one then. Al noticed that the need for an iPhone-like device had reached a critical mass just as my birthday was approaching, however, and viola! The perfect birthday gift. So far, I LOVE IT. There were some minor problems transferring my California cell number over (well, minor is probably kind—I was on hold with various departments of AT&T for over an hour between Friday night and Saturday morning, and I eventually had to report to an AT&T store to get a new SIM card *and* call to cancel service on the 267 number that iTunes had issued me), but everything seems to be working smoothly now.

Back to Target. It was also not necessary to buy party hats, as Aura and the Beaner crafted some of their very own design. They even made enough so that my in-laws each got one.

It's debatable whether it was necessary bring cupcakes with me. My in-laws purchased a cake—a carrot cake, which I love—but this cake apparently was chock full of walnuts, to which I am allergic. (One accidental lick of my fingers after cutting slices for others had me running for the Zyrtec and my inhaler.) I ended up eating a cupcake instead, with a bit of the cream cheese frosting from the carrot cake—the Flying Monkey Patisserie frosting left something to be desired.

So yes, we did still stop at Target, even though we probably didn't really need to. The Beaner lucked out in that he got a $1 miniature Lightning McQueen lunchbox and a $1 set of Radiator Springs pencils out of the trip, we stocked up on soy milk, and I got some carrots and a granola bar for dinner (I was trying to eat light in anticipation of a cupcake). Oh, and I found a $5 bill on my way out of the store.

All in all, a very good birthday, indeed.

The Snuggling Dispute

Oy, we just had a royal meltdown here. Over snuggling.

I've been snuggling the Beaner to sleep since he was a little baby. Part of the reason we moved to the big boy bed when we did is he was getting too heavy for me to snuggle in the chair without putting my back out... and the reason we moved to the chair is he got too heavy for me to snuggle standing up. There's plenty of room in the big boy bed, but lately it's been getting more and more uncomfortable for me to snuggle him to sleep.

For one thing, he's often most hyper right before dozing off, and I'm on the receiving end of kicks and head butts and pokes in the eye, which drives me nuts. For another thing, his neck obsession has intensified over the 18 months, to the point where he has actually stated that he doesn't like Daddy or Grandma—or even love them—because they don't have Mommy's neck. This obsession means that I sometimes get stroked, clawed, and mauled until I'm in full-blown, DON'T-TOUCH-ME windmill state. He's also taken to using my chest as a handhold or a route to my neck, and that raises my hackles faster than anything.

So anyway, my discontent with the snuggling routine has been brewing for some time. Tonight, a kick to the bridge of my nose followed five minutes later—with a discussion about being in control of your body and a fervent apology in between—by a crushing head-butt to the chin sent me over the edge. I flew out of the bed, told him I'd had enough, that I loved him, and that I was going downstairs. He'd have to put himself to bed. (My chin is *still* tingling as I write this, an hour later, fwiw.)

I don't want to go through all the details of the hysteria that followed; suffice to say that it was draining, that it led to a disagreement about how to parent, and the Beaner got his way in the end: I snuggled him to sleep in his bed. I extracted an agreement from him that TOMORROW he will put himself to sleep after a hug, a story, and a kiss goodnight—and I know Al is very proud of me for just giving in (I'm sure he thinks of it as "being reasonable")—but I know that the agreement is meaningless. Tomorrow we will go through the same ordeal, because the Beaner only cares about what he wants RIGHT NOW. He will do anything, say anything, promise anything to get it. Knowing that we'll very likely go through this whole ordeal tomorrow, too, makes *me* want to cry. So does the idea of continuing to snuggle him to sleep, since the part of it that's incredibly sweet is overshadowed more and more by the part that's irritating as hell.

If I'm wrong, and he goes to bed without complaint tomorrow, I will be both incredibly relieved and very proud of him. I will be more than happy to be wrong. But for now, I'm just angry, tired, and sore. And not looking forward to another battle.