Silence

I'm not in a stellar mood today. Just FYI.

It's quiet here. The kids are all in school, full-time. Just me and the dog and cats until 2:30.

I am now unemployed. The last week - particularly the last day - was yucky. Particularly pathetic was when, on that last day, when I'm trying to leave, the dev staff that had been avoiding me and not talking to me for a solid month (fear for their own jobs, I think) decided they wanted to give me a cake and suddenly be friendly. Yeah, right.

Did have this amusing exchange during the lame cake attempt:

New developer whom I had not yet met: "I'm sorry we won't be working together. Where are you going to."

Me: "Nowhere yet."

ND: "So you just decided to take some time off? How nice!"

Me: "Not at all."

He left seconds thereafter and did not have cake.

I didn't either, actually. I was not in the mood for eating grocery store preservative-filled cake. I thanked them, took my card, and left. The card, after a cursory glance at the BS "good luck" comments, went straight to the recycling.

Yesterday I received a L*nked*n invitation from a name I didn't know. I looked at the invite more closely. It's from the new "Talent Acquisition Manager" at the now former company. It said, "I'm looking forward to meeting you and working with you."

Talent Acquisition Manager FAIL!

Idiot.

I did have an interview early last week. The job fit is, dare I say it, ideal. I thought the conversations went well. The part-time factor is a factor, however.

I jumped through hoops while on vacation to set the interview up for my first day back from vacation (kid coverage and all) because the recruiter said they wanted to make a decision quickly. By last Friday I had heard nothing. I emailed the recruiter. She said they were hoping to make a decision this week or next. Great.

So I am pretty sure I didn't get the job. I think I would have heard if I had. I'm a little bummed.

(But also, I do wonder about their decision making skills. During the interview they expressed disappointment in the quality of the contractor that was there last fall. A terrific woman I know interviewed for that contracting position and did not get it. Clearly they should have hired my friend. Clearly they should hire me.)

I had plenty of time to think this week - and plenty more such weeks ahead, I fear - about how so many smart women are underutilized and under appreciated because companies won't think outside the box - even as they tout that they want employees to think outside the box. I know many women who could offer so much, but corporate America is so afraid! Of them, of their brains, of the way they work, of the their (entirely appropriate) priorities. It's sad, really. And I wonder how many opportunities have been lost by this fear.

I also finished reading a book this week. The book is getting some good reviews (including the New York Times), and it's well-written - but I didn't much like it. Bummed me out because I've liked other books by this author. Perhaps it's because part of the subject matter: the dot-com boom and bust of the late 90s/early 2000s is something I actually lived through.

There were characters I knew well, and had no interest in spending more time with. (M*T grad students/grad school dropouts who start Internet companies and play Ultimate Frisbee in their spare time. Euw.) There was a late book addition of distant estranged family in London that I thought should have been a book on its own. No real resolution to that sub-plot. And 9/11 as a plot device. Hasn't that been done enough? (Don't know how to resolve your character? Kill him! In a terrorist attack!) And one minor character came dangerously close to uttering my literary (and life) pet-peeve, "At least you have your health." (I once literally threw a book across a room when the character, in an exciting plot twist, uttered this, then the book jumped to a scene 6 months later with no explanation about how the protagonist got out of that plot twist. Ugh.)

I'm working on cleaning up and cleaning out the house. A summer of stress (not to mention a family of five people, two cats, one dog and a fish) has left much in disarray. It will be good to clear it all out. Hopefully clear out my mind in the process.

So that's where it's all at. Did I mention it's quiet here?

Observation

Sitting around the hotel pool on a Friday late afternoon into early evening, I looked around and thought...

Fake. Fake. Fake. Real. Fake. Real. Fake. Fake. Real. Real. Fake. Fake. Fake...

I'm home from vacation. While most of it was good, the part with my family was a challenge. Currently (again) not on speaking terms with my sister. I'll tell you about that sometime. Sigh.

Snap!

On Friday night, in an effort to cheer me up (the sage continues but can't and don't want to talk about it right now), we went into town for open studios at an artist's building downtown. On the first Friday of every month, (most of) the artists stay late and open up for the public to see and/or purchase. We saw some really cool stuff.

Down one hall on the 3rd floor, there weren't many open studios, but we did wander into one that was pretty quiet. Sitting on the couch, with oils surrounding him on every level on every wall, was a gentleman sitting in for his wife, the artist. Most of the work was fine - not striking in an "oh my goodness this woman is amazing" kind of way - but solid and skilled.

There were two paintings that stood out to me. One had probably more energy than any other painting in the room: it was a painting of a woman struggling with a broken umbrella in high wind. The other was of three female figures on a beach, and I instantly thought of this artist, Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida and the series of paintings at the beach and more specifically, the painting of the Two Sisters.

(The backstory: When I was very young, my mother took my to the J Paul Getty Museum in California. The Sorolla painting The Wounded Foot is there, and I was instantly drawn to it. I was allowed to purchase a postcard of the painting and kept it for many years. I even took it to college with me and, during my sophomore color studio class used that painting as the basis for a final project, a collage using ColorAid paper. Unfortunately, my professor lost my entire portfolio from that class and the postcard was lost with it.)

I hesitated in the studio. We were making small talk with the gentleman. Dare I mention the association I was making? Would I sound pretentious? But I kept looking at it, and the gentleman noticed. He asked me if I liked it.

I told him it reminded me of some of the beach paintings of a Spanish post-Impressionist, Sorolla, and he was silent for a moment. He then told me that the painting was created as part of an exercise in a class. The exercise was to try to generate similar energy and feeling as a specific artist. And in this case, the painting was based on - you guessed it - Sorolla.

Then he told me I was only the second person in three years to make the connection.

Snap.

Every once in a while that Art History degree emerges to fun effect.

Time for Another Leap

When my company hired a VP of Engineering recently, I was hopeful. My previous boss, whom I like very much as a person, is not a very good manager. This new person started and I was pleased. I thought, "Finally! We'll make some forward progress!" The developers were optimistic, I was optimisitc, the QA people were optimistic.

But then I started to get a weird vibe. He didn't seem to get my part-time schedule at all - and kept pushing against it. Why wouldn't I be in on Wednesday? Explain it again.

I just kept at my work, kept up the communication efforts, kept doing what needed to be done and looking for additional ways to contribute. Like usual. But also like usual, my kids and my family came first. There were a couple days I needed to shoot out right at my ending time, and I made no apologies for that.

This VP is rather a youngster. Early 30s. Smart - well, book smart, I guess. Wife stays at home with small children. Email at all hours. Etc. We are clearly at vastly different points in our lives.

This afternoon he called me in before I left (earlier than usual, admittedly, as hubby is on a bad work schedule, but I worked all this out with management over two years ago when I started the job) and told me that I needed to go full-time, every single day in the office during "normal" hours, 8-5:30. Or transition out of the company.

He then handed me a piece of paper with what he thought was the job description. Most of it was what I do already. Under "Qualifications" it read, "Two years previous experience."

Two. 2. Dos.

Um....if he thinks he could get some person with two years of experience in here to do what I do, he is out of his mind. He would lose the better part of a year of productivity for this person to come up to speed on the product, the technology, how the company works, and so on.

So. Looks like I'll be transitioning out of the company. I may mount some kind of a defense when I am next in the office, but I doubt it will do anything. He seems to have made up his mind long since. I'll try to negotiate a real transition and severance. Then I'll be looking to leap elsewhere.

But to where, or what, I don't know.

Suggestions?

In Case You Think I've Been Exaggerating

I've mentioned my sister numerous times in many contexts. She is 13 years older than me chonologically, but otherwise...well, have I mentioned the time she bit me? She had just turned 40.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, on Facebook, she fanned some ultra-conservative politician, or maybe Gl*nn B*ck or some other freak. As usual, I said nothing about this. I never do because, well, my sister just isn't worth the effort. However, one of her college friends made some comment about it, basically expressing dismay. My sister responded that she liked to do that specifically to piss me off. I said nothing, but went back a couple hours later and tried to take a screen shot of it because I was rather stunned at the immaturity of a 55 year old, even this one that I know to be so immature - but she'd deleted the exchange.

Today this came up:



Just so you know I'm not exaggerating when I talk about my sister. She lives a pretty sad life if this is what gets her going. It's hard to be a part of it, and I wouldn't be except for my nephews, whom I love dearly. (And whom does the oldest call when he needs emotional support? Hint: Not his mother.)

I'm totally dreading that drip in August. I'm doing it for my Mom and for my kids, I tell myself. And after 10 days, I will get to leave and come home to my own life, 3000 glorious miles away.

Good Things

This spring in spring soccer, C's team was pretty good. Like last year, they did not have any losses in their regular season (but blew it in the first game of the playoffs). Unlike last year, C did not break his arm. Phew, phew, and phew on that one as sailing season has started and he's trying to position himself for the high school team.

Many of the same kids were on the team this year, but there were some new ones, too, including a boy who has cerebral palsy. T could not run as fast as the other kids, could not pass with the same quickness, but never expected to be treated any differently. He never, ever gave up in any game. He'd get knocked down, and get right back up. No whining, just kept going. I could learn some things from that kid.

In spite of his perseverance and determination, T did not have a goal during the season. He wanted one, and the other boys knew that. The other boys decided it needed to be a team effort. They didn't make a fuss about it, didn't talk about it, just decided to do it. In the last half of the last game of the regular season, up by just one, the rest of the team worked their butts off to try to get T a goal. They covered and passed, and gave up chances to score themselves. The played hard defense on the other end of the field to get it back down to T as quickly and as often as possible. The whole team wanted T to have a goal. By the end of the game as the parents realized what was going on, the whole field wanted T to have that goal - but the other team also seemed to know that the boys *didn't* want them to just give T a goal. Know what I mean? There was some hard play going on out there. Nobody was giving up.

Alas, it was not to be. It was an exciting, heartwarming and heart breaking 30 minutes of adolescent soccer. T did not get a goal in the end - but it felt like the team got so much more than a mark in the win column that day.

Some Things Never Change

We're going out west in August. The kids haven't been out in 3 years, and although I saw my sister and mother in March, it was very brief, and I haven't seen my brother, a couple nephews and my niece in that time.

So...we make an effort to go out when we know they will all be there. We're flying cross country, at rather significant expense, and what's the response?

"I don't know what our schedule is like. Hopefully we'll be able to see you, but I just don't know."

WTF?

And Now for Some Updates

A couple of weeks ago I had jury duty. It was mostly benign, aside from the guy a couple chairs down in the jury room who kept falling asleep and snoring.

(He was overweight and likely suffered from sleep apnea, thus is constantly sleep deprived. I would have mentioned one of my husband's college classmates who was diagnosed with sleep apnea in his early 20s and once started treatment had a complete change of life. Really. Was a kinda weird guy, up at all hours in college, always seemed groggy, barely graduated. Now he's completed several additional degrees and works in patent law, completely different personality, and so on. But I digress.)

At any rate, jury duty got me thinking about when I started this blog. It was jury duty that broke the writing dam I had built up. It was good to get some of that stuff out finally; it really helped me process some things that built up, and some things that have happened since. Now, 3 1/2 years later, I still have much to say, but am not blogging as much - mostly because of lack of time.

Most of the time I feel completely overwhelmed with schedules and commitments. When I do have down time from everything else, my thoughts are muddled. Too muddled, even, for writing them out. Hmmmm.

I thought, however, I'd update you on a few things.

First, the whole church thing. I wrote about it here. And here. And here. And several more places, too.

This spring a couple people were elected to the vestry that have some clue that all is not well. This was a particular coup as the rector tried to stack the vestry with his supporters. While still trying to claim the church is "growing." Uh-huh. The annual pledge drive only reached 40% of goal by deadline - and had started one month earlier. I hear they are still trying to secure adequate pledges.

A "wellness" survey was put out this spring, asking things like, "How often do you go to church now compared to 5 years ago?" and "Would you recommend St. _'s to your friends?" I filled that out. I said "no" to that last question, in case you were wondering.

Then there was a meeting, to which several people I know (who no longer attend) went - meant to be a venue for honesty and hopefully the start of healing. R, the rector, was supposed to be there just as an observer. But when one of those who has fallen away mentioned something specific (that wasn't even specifically about R), apparently he launched into a tirade. Several vestry members did observe this. He continued his lashing out after the meeting was over, and those that went are still shaken.

Several of us - actually, many of us - had hoped he'd realize things weren't going well and he'd leave on his own. We figured the best chance was this summer as his son graduated from high school and he wouldn't necessarily be tied down by schools. Well....the son was accepted to a good out-of-state university, but has told several people that "it has been decided" that he will attend a local community college. R is digging in his heels. Great.

I take the kids a couple towns north to a church every once in a while. Occasionally I miss church, but when our schedule is really busy, it's a relief not to have that on the schedule, too.

Next, the school start time thing, which I wrote about here, here, and here. And other places, too.

Well. I ran my friend's school committee campaign this spring. It was horribly stressful and I found my breaking point - but she was elected.

The candidate against the start time change engaged in some very dirty tricks. She lied. She called my candidate names. She tried to encourage bullet voting - which is not illegal, just ethically questionable. Even with the bullet voting, my friend won. On paper it doesn't look like a big victory - but if you think about how she overcame the bullet voting and dirty tricks, it's significant. If the other candidate had won, the start time would have been reversed at the April school committee meeting. Phew!

At the first start time committee meeting post election, I was floored when one of the antis went on and on about "keeping an open mind." Yeah, you first. Especially since, at the next meeting WHERE NONE OF THEM SHOWED UP we saw data from parent and teacher surveys that show increasing and strong acceptance and approval of the time change! AND decreased tardies at the middle school and high school, decreased disciplinary actions at the middle school and high school, and increased number of students on high honor roll at the middle school and high school. Academic performance at the upper elementary shows a slight increase - yes, it has benefited them, too! Tardies are up at the upper elementary school, it;s true - but when you break down statistics, a small number of students account for the majority of the tardies. While the school department won't release names to non-personnel, I asked one administrator if I could rattle off the surnames with ease. Meaning they are all the vocal antis. She just smiled.

Our superintendent decided to leave after all this - she took a beating. But we appear to have hired a really good new guy who starts August 1. I think he will shake things up, but it will be good for our district long-term.

Finally, the S and the friend's son thing. (Here, and here)

This is still very bothersome to me. S is fine, that's clear. M and P were able to resume their friendship somewhat, though it was fairly clearly being dissuaded by A. We haven't seem P much lately, though I haven't made any effort to deny M calling him, and so on.

I've tried to reach out to A, but aside from coming for a glass of wine in November, she's resisted. I can't blame her, but it's still sad. She's super cheery when she needs something from me - like a cub scout project or whatever.

This has meant that until recently it's been easy to keep D away from S. But when baseball season started, there were overlaps at the ball field. S would want to go to the playground, and D would be there. D is a little old for the playground, I think, but whatever. S would see him - she still thinks of him as a big brother because the families were close for so long - and want to play with him....and that would send my stomach to my throat. I would supervise far more closely in those circumstances (missing many great plays by M), and encourage S to hang with the girls, etc.

Next week is the final cub scout event at a climbing gym we've been to before, and it's for families. S will go ballistic if she doesn't get to go - so the whole family is going. D will be there. I'm pretty convinced this kid still doesn't know appropriate boundaries (I've observed him in other ways, and C has told me some odd things), so it all makes me nervous. I told C what was happening when it happened, and I think I will ask him to help make sure D and S are away from each other, but we have to be careful how we do this so we don't make a scene, so it's totally obvious. Ugh.

I sure hope that kid is getting some help.

Work is muddling along. It is what it is.

We've had some school stuff with C, nothing too terrible but some stuff. It's been his algebra class. For the first time, he's needed to make an effort. Sometimes he made that effort, and sometimes he didn't. Let's just say we were not invited to the middle school awards ceremony this year (which was tonight - and, I admit it, I've felt some stabs as local people on FB have commented on what a lovely evening it was), where kids who have remained on high honor roll get called out. And it's only math that's the issue. But his grade wasn't so bad, really. B+, each term. Not the worst thing in the world at all, I know. I know!

However, this algebra teacher has the power to mess with high school in a big way. The decision is whether C goes into the highest level math in 9th grade or the mid-level is up to her. While both courses count the same for GPA, they do track a kid's science courses. If he's not in the higher level 9th grade math, he can't do chemistry in 10th and physics in 11th - and no chance to get into the really cool electives in 12th (environmental science, for example). We're trying not to be helicopter parents, but it's about options. This is potentially closing doors. And there's no reason that anything he did in 8th grade should have such an impact on high school tracking.

The handbooks say he has to maintain an 85 average to stay the higher level. A B+ average would certainly meet that, right? Well the teacher is trying to push him lower, and playing games with hubster and me as we try to get clear answers on why she's doing this. She's not returning emails, and so on. It's infuriating and frustrating. C used to enjoy math, now he thinks he's bad at it and hates it. Ugh.

Just keep swimming, as Dory would say.

Careers

It's been a long time since I've had as crappy a day at work as I had yesterday. It's not that it's been wonderful until now - it's just been "fine" - and it's a job and it's a recession and I go into the office every day thinking about ways to contribute. And in the scheme of things I've had much worse days at work.

But it was crappy enough to make me wonder what I want to do when I grow up. Do I still want to do this kind of job? Isn't there a saying that "just because it's what you do best doesn't mean you have to do it?"

What else would I do?

A former coworker once called this job the "golden handcuffs." That is, it pays well enough that it's hard to walk away.

Writing books, as I have learned, pays poorly. As does web writing. I've found that the plethora of writers and "writers" available via the inter-tubes has devalued the work somewhat. If you won't go low enough in price, there are plenty of other writers (and "writers") out there who will do it for that lower price. And often the group or person seeking that writing gets what they pay for - of course.

There's no more musing than that today. Yesterday wasn't awful enough to make me cry or immediately start searching the job boards. Mostly it just pissed me off how shortsighted and closed people can be. It just sucked and made me start wondering about other options.

Prayers for Father M

When C was sick, Father M was the rector of the church we attended. He was with us on the day C coded, and was back many times over the subsequent weeks. He was one of our team in those hard days.

Later, Father M baptized S, and Mrs. M was C's 3rd grade teacher - a wonderful woman who did wonders for C, for his self-esteem.

I've also written about Father M in terms of what has happened to the church we attended. I can't find those posts right now. I'll look later.

Suffice it to say that Father M and his family are very dear to us.

Father M is in the hospital right now, and could use some prayers. The prognosis as I understand it this morning is good, but still. Prayers for Father M. Please.

Father M is in the same hospital that treated C. He had a heart attack on Friday at home, went to the regional hospital first (same place we started with C), had stent put in an artery there, but had another heart attack in that hospital and at some point was transferred to the bigger city hospital. Another stent was going in this morning. My husband is checking in with them, offering what help we can.

When they get back to town, troops will rally. But still, prayers for a wonderful man, who still has a lot of love to give to his family and friends - and as as much love due him

UPDATE, 4/26: Father M is home. He came home Saturday and is doing very well. He was given the all-clear by his primary today, and then went to the grocery store (he's a marvelous cook - but allowed a friend to bring them soup for dinner). He's well aware, however, that he must take care not to overdo it! I just spoke with Mrs. M, and she is exhausted but so relieved. Thanks for your prayers!

Light

I think I'm seeing light at the end of the tunnel in the worst of this insane couple of months. I'm feeling a little more settled - some days, anyway.

We've made it through the anniversary of the worst of C's illness. I think we're all okay. Acknowledging it and thinking about it a bit actually helped - not trying to push it down and away in the name of being busy (like I was doing).

We also had the Science Fair. Both M and S participated. M made a Van De Graaff generator and S did a project on the Slender Loris. M won 2nd place in his division, S an honorable mention.

S's birthday party was Saturday and it was a blast. 18 little kids running around a gymnastics place, followed by a concentrated dose of sugar (cupcakes). But my girl was happy.

For her actual birthday yesterday, S got her photo on CNN.com. In a good way.

From the start of the book project, I didn't really understand the level at which the book would be promoted. I wasn't sure if the publisher saw this as a straight to the remainder bin kind of product or what. I've been pleasantly surprised at the publicity efforts.

The publicists are having me write some summary promotional pieces that they submit to prominent websites. I've had to submit a few pictures. They've sent the book around. The CNN thing came about like that - they sent the book to someone there who liked a particular chapter and asked for a piece related to it. I did that a few weeks ago. When the publicist emailed yesterday, I was surprised. It's been very prominently posted on the Living section for almost 24 hours. 300+ comments on the article, too - some with legitimate commentary, some the words of the usual internet trolls.

When the article appeared on CNN, I finally told my office about the book. Hadn't breathed a word of it to them in all this time. I considered it and kept it wholly separate. My coworkers seemed generally happy for me - that was cool.

I have more such articles to write - wonder where they'll turn up!

Taxes are due tomorrow - never fun, but once we get it over with, it will be ignorable for another year. Just wish we didn't wait until the last minute like this, but that's something else entirely.

My candidate's first school committee meeting is tonight. Cool.

Then April break. Even though I'll be working my regular schedule (and, oh, how I like "regular!" Really!), we have fun stuff coming up. Normal, fun stuff. Stuff I feel I can handle okay. Normal stuff is what I am thankful for!

Baseball season, and coffee selling season, and hospital fundraising season...all stuff that, while busy, I feel I can manage. Plus it's spring, and the weather trend is warming (even if it's a little chilly today). I'm looking forward to getting into the yard. There is much cleanup and planting to be done.

So it feels like I'm settling a little. I'm hopeful for time and initiative to get the house organized and cleaned up a bit, and for the impetus to get to the basement and start doing some printing.

Happy spring.

Phew

My sister has left Facebook. The nephews are still on it, and I think the youngest of those nephews (16) could use some parental supervision, but I'm glad she's gone from Facebook. It was kind of like the weirdness when your mom joins Facebook and makes inappropriate comments on your status updates. Yes, my sister did that.

While I was out west, she made a comment that even though she is exceedingly conservative and thinks Ann Coulter is a Goddess (it made me throw up a little in my mouth just to type the name), she only joined all sorts of ultra conservative Facebook groups just to piss me off. I never commented on such behavior, and mostly tried to ignore her presence so it's just screaming for the comment, "How....mature." Yes, she is my *older* sister. I asked why she left and she sent me a rambling email that smacked of right-wing paranoia.

I mentioned a couple days ago that my sister is becoming a caricature. A caricature of what, you might ask....an entitled, wealthy and bored suburban housewife. She's always been that, but it's just getting worse. Her appearance, for one. She's all into using Latisse on her eyelashes and so her eyelashes are cartoon long - but she's too vain to wear eyeglasses or contacts and can't see to put on makeup...it's all smudged and garish. She's thinner than ever - but eats like a horse (I predict a third septic system in current house in the near future - stomach acids wreck the flora of a septic system and consequently wreck the septic system). She's all about her designer labels. Her days revolve around online shopping. She's taking a Spanish class so she can speak better with "service" people. I kid you not.

She has one child left at home, and doesn't seem to do much for or with him - hence he's becoming quite the snot (right, eba?). Absentee parent who lives in the same house. I think my brother in law is an ass, but he's the one that gets the youngest going in the morning (though litte other guidance from what I can tell). My sister sleeps in every day. Every. Day.

After we had lunch with our mother, I noted that my mom finally had handicapped plates on her car (two knee replacements, major back surgery, etc.), and my sister said, "Yeah, but she refuses to get the rearview mirror thingy for me to use. Do you know what a pain it is to walk from the far end of a parking lot when there are all these handicapped spaces empty right in front of the store? She's so insensitive."

Just let all that settle for a sec. You can't make this shit up.

In spite of the email response about her Facebook departure, my sister currently will not return my phone calls. I think it has to do with the book. My mom is currently on a bragging spree about the fact that I wrote the book (only took 43 years for the woman to express pride in me - but that's another post), and my sister is jealous. She's always been wacko about perceptions of favoritism from our parents, and this isn't helping. If she's not getting all the attention, then the parent in question loves my brother or me more, has always treated her terribly, and woe is her life, and can't we see how awful it is to be her?

Um, yeah.

And the family wonders why we don't come visit.

Where to Begin...

It's been quite a while since I have posted anything here. It's not for lack of things to say or a desire to say it; it's more exhaustion and anxiety.

I ran a friend's campaign for school committee here in town during mid February into late March. It was pretty well all consuming. My friend won in the end - and it was a fairly significant victory I think, given the nastiness of the campaign (that's a whole long post itself). But I never want to do such a thing again. I managed to find my breaking point, and it wasn't pretty. But two decent candidates were elected, and that was good.

In the middle of that, I flew out west for a day and a half to do some video stuff for the book. It was probably good to get away and get a break from the campaign stuff, but it was still just a crazy trip. While I was out there, I saw my sister (who is becoming a total caricature), my mom (almost didn't see her - even though it's been 2 1/2 years since I've seen her, she initially said she was too busy), and a friend from high school I reconnected with on Facebook (that part was great).

I think I thought that getting busy with the campaign would distract me from the time of year, it being the time of year that C got sick, and the PTSD symptoms that often well up around this time. I was wrong. It likely made it worse. Add in a very busy husband and clueless inlaws....let's just say things feel pretty sucky. It's not the doldrums I experienced in December; it's different from that, but it's sometimes hard to explain how.

It's been seven years since C was sick. Half his lifetime. He is fine. I know he is. But still I have this fear that he will get sick like that again, that it could happen again, knowing how lucky he is to be alive. I can still see his little body hooked up to those machines and all the tubes going in and out and the alarms. I have flashes of going into his room immediately after the code when there were two of the most experienced nurses working on him and the towels on the floor because all the blood hadn't been cleaned up. A few weeks ago, someone said to me, about C's illness, "Well, just get over it." I wish I could.

Half his lifetime. We've long told him that his life will grow around his illness, that his body will grow around the scars. The scars stay the same size while he grows. That is exactly what is happening, both physically and metaphorically for him. It's a significant milestone for him, I think, this half a lifetime mark - he remembers more of his life since his illness than from before it. But it's not half my lifetime; I'm still trying to sort it out, figure out where it fits in my life experiences. It's still big for me.

C is more prone to lung issues now. A few weeks ago C was sick. A virus went straight to his lungs (as it often does) and he was on steroids and breathing treatments and missed several days of school. A couple times I almost took him to the ER. He didn't want to go (he still has issues around his illness whether he admits it or not) and DH's cooler head prevailed, but it scared me. And I don't think I acknowledged how much it scared me. I expected everything to just stop for a while as we dealt with that, but it didn't. I know, duh.

C is a typical teenager, and for that I am grateful - though I still have moments of anger and irritation with him. He is, as I said, a typical teenager, and all that entails. It all makes for some confusing emotions this time of year.

I really want to curl up under the covers for a while, but that isn't happening. Hubby is on a bad schedule at work, kids have school and sports demands, science fair is coming up for M and S, S's birthday party is Saturday...and on and on. I just keep trying to plug ahead. This time of year it seems to be all I can do.

Yesterday was Easter, and I tried to make it a nice day. There was little cooperation from the kids or others on that, though. I ended up walking three of the five miles home from the beach alone in flip-flops.

On Breaking the Cycle

I've been silent here, but it has not been for lack of things to say. There's been much happening, and much thought, but very little time to be reflective. Many things I've wanted to write down, but not exactly compelled to write down. Until now.

My husband has had this patient for the last few years, a young woman in her early 20s with bad disease, a history of less than stellar life choices, and sketchy family support. SH. When my husband met SH, she had two very young kids but the dad (dads?) was nowhere in sight. The woman's mother (younger than me) - and grandmother - were not exactly pillars of appropriate behavior and choices. There were no fathers or grandfathers around for any of them. Very little stability.

It's been up and down with SH over the last couple of years. My husband is very good about HIPAA and doesn't reveal identifying details to me when he talks about stuff at work - I didn't know SH was "S" until December, and just learned the "H" this morning - and it's rare he talks about patients at all. But sometimes he does need to talk about what he's seeing, what he's treating, and how hard it is. SH was always a challenging case from a patient compliance AND severity of disease standpoint. Still, he fought for her as best he could. There was something about her - the rough around the edges young woman (girl, really) who deserved a chance to break the cycle of the generations before her. Even though she hadn't been particularly successful in that so far.

SH was post BMT and doing okay until November, when she contracted H1N1. It's been a rollercoaster since then, emotionally draining on everyone. In some senses, the staff knew SH wouldn't make it and arranged for her kids to get into the normally strictly controlled ward so they could have Christmas together. But SH hung on.

Before we left on our recent vacation, my husband made sure SH was squared away as best he could. That she was as stable as he could help her be. But the experience with SH has been so draining that he really needed the week away from the hospital. Really, really needed it.

We only left town for a few days. We came home on Wednesday night. On Thursday evening, late, my husband went into the hospital to move some things around in his office so some painters could get in. While there he learned that SH had passed away that morning. Her lungs and her compromised immune system could just never recover from that virus.

It's always sad when a patient doesn't make it. It's always hard. People are always left behind. There's always hurt. But this case feels a little different. Like SH never got that real shot at breaking the cycle, really learning from the past and moving into the light of the future. Will her sons have that chance? I don't know.

There are ways in which I think SH was very attached to my husband, but not in any way that would make me remotely jealous. I think my husband was the first male in her life who didn't stop fighting for her, who didn't walk away even when she was hard to deal with. (And she could be very juvenile and hard to deal with.) I think she needed that as much from him as the chemo and the other treatments. I'm glad he could give it - even though in the end he couldn't save her.

SH's body is still in the hospital morgue. Her family is struggling with finances to have her remains cared for properly. I think about her two little boys needing to say their proper goodbyes, about her mother getting another chance at raising children, about whether they'll be able to break their cycle. I hope they do. For SH.

Just a Thought

For an actor whose breakout role was as Frank-n-Furter in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, Tim Curry has had an alarmingly mainstream career.

Cute Teenager Ways

C, at 13, has a changing body. He's rather self-conscious about it (as many teenagers are), and even though we have tried to be open in conversations since he was little about bodies, he gets embarrassed. Even so, I try to do as much talking at him as I can (before he runs away), so he continues to get certain messages from us. It's such a delicate age.

About six months ago I bought a stick of deordorant for him. I put it in the bathroom, told him what it was and when to use it. His response? "MO-OM!" As expected. I did not monitor its usage.

The other night, when I went to bed, there was a note on my pillow. From C.

The note asked me to please get him some more deodorant. He suggested spray deodorant as he needed some at school for after gym and he had the impression the spray lasts longer. It was sweet.

At Costco yesterday, I could not find spray - but I did find a package of five sticks of clear gel, and figured he could try that and not worry about using it up.

This morning he very sheepishly asked if I could help him with the new deodorant. Seems he couldn't get the gel to rise. We went through this very funny dance, each of us pretending we weren't talking about what we were talking about (because that would be embarassing). Finally the gel was figured out and the subject dropped completely. But I did get a, "Thanks, Mom." And that's more than I usually get these days.

Having a teenager is so funny. He still needs me but doesn't want to admit it. It's sweet. It's hard. I'm so glad he's sitll here - in all contexts.

The Crazies Win a Round

Last night came word from the School Committee meeting that our Superintendent is resigning.

I don't blame her one bit - though this is a real blow to the town.

Ms. S has spend most of her career in our town. She was first a 3rd grade teacher for many years, then did some more graduate work and became Assistant Principal, then Principal of the upper elementary school, then Assistant Superintendent, and, for the last three years, Superintendent. She is not retiring. She's going to take everything she learned here - and another district will get the benefit. She'll be snapped up - at a higher salary - because she's forward-thinking.

She's not perfect, but was pretty good overall and she was a step up from the last Superintendent. She worked to implement programs to improve academics. The change in start time and the high end learner program were just a couple of her efforts. The teachers respected her. A majority of the parents did, too. I worry that some administrators will follow.

Yet a small group of parents and a couple school committee members created an extremely hostile working environment for her. Publicly attacking everything she did - and deriding her personally. I don't blame her for leaving.

This small group of crazies, who do they think will come into this hostile environment? Who will want to work here? There's already a lack of qualified administrators, and 30 (yes, THIRTY!) districts in our state are looking for superintendents. We don't pay particularly well, either. This is going to be a mess.

Also, two school committee members are up for reelection, and neither are seeking reelection. That's going to be a mess, too. Ugh.

The next couple of days/weeks/maybe months, the crazies in town will be gleeful. They think they have won the war. It's going to get uglier, I fear.

And our kids' education will be the casualty.

I Don't Think So

S goes to a Kindergarten extended day program three days a week. She loves it. I love it. M loved it when he went (C never got in - too long a waiting list and we were new to town).

One of the things I love is that the kids are introduced to a wide range of literature (mainly children's literature, of course), artists, and music. Far more than the regular Kindergarten curriculum can provide (I could start again on the half-day Kindergarten issue - but I won't. For now.)

As an art major in college, I particularly enjoy and appreciate the artist introductions. They've studdied Georgia O'Keefe and the Impressionists and others. When we go to museums, S (and the boys) have some sense of what they are looking at, and that's great.

S's monthly extended day calendar came home today and I happily looked for the "Artists of the Month" listing. The artists for January 2010 are:

Jackson Pollack
Thomas Kinkade

I thought to myself, "Oh, cool. Jackson Pollack. Perfect for this age. And who else? Thomas Kinkade?"

It took me a moment to remember the name, then I said, loudly, "Oh, no!" Then, "EUW!!!"

Thomas Kinkade, if you don't know already, is one of the premier purveyors of schlock in our country. It's not art. It's crap. I don't care if he makes a lot of money and has stores in malls across the country and is a good Christian, this is not equivalent talent to Jackson Pollack. If anything, Thomas Kinkade will be a sorry footnote in the art of the late 20th and early 21st centuries, noted more for his business and marketing skill than actual artistic merit.

I want so much to call the teachers and tell them this - or at least ask why they thought he was worthy of inclusion. Maybe I'll just ask in passing when I pick S up tomorrow.

Call me an art snob if you will. I don't mind. While Thomas Kinkade has made "art" accessible to the masses, there is so much out there that is SO. MUCH. BETTER. And accessible and attractive and thought-provoking...all with actual talent behind it.

Time for a visit to the ICA, I think, to counteract the "Painter of Light." (Gag.)

And Now For a Dose of the Post-Holiday Grumpies

I am tired.

I am tired of trying to take care of everything and do everything for everybody and it not being good enough.

Snapping Things Right Back Into Perspective

This morning, after an old high school friend commented on something on my Facebook wall, I thought to myself, "I really should find L. I'm sure she's on Facebook."

For years, L was the only person from high school with whom I kept any contact. It's been pretty much Christmas cards for about six or seven years now, but still. Facebook has changed that a little, and I am in contact with a couple more people there. I last saw L about 10 years ago when C was maybe two and her C was just shy of two - we've talked a couple times since then.

Anyway, I searched this morning on L's married name. Nothing. Hmm. Her C is 13, too, and likely has an account, I thought. I'll try to find her through him. So I put in her C's name.

He died last week. He committed suicide.

I cannot fathom this. I can't.