Digging Out of my Rut

Starting tomorrow, I begin a new (temporary) path.  I’ll be working outside of my home, full-time, for the first time since 2001.  In the past eight years, I’ve finished two college degrees, held two part-time jobs and a few work-from-home and/or volunteer positions, and birthed and cared for a now-almost-two-year-old little boy.  I haven’t worked in any kind of office since my son was born, and I haven’t worked a full 40-hour week since before I (re)started college.

Yes, I’m nervous.  I’m also excited.  Even before we moved to Florida, I had been wanting a change.  I have loved the past two years of being home to care for my son, but I was ready for something different.  Then, the plan had been that I would try to find something part-time back in NY, and put him in a day-care program for those part-days.

Then when everything fell apart on us in July and we made the decision to move down here, we discussed the possibility of me being the bread-winner and my husband being the stay-at-home parent. Of course, it was all just theoretical until one of us actually landed some kind of gainful employment. And that happened officially on Friday. I begin tomorrow on a temporary assignment scheduled to last through mid-January.

So yes, I’m excited for the change, but nervous about starting something new. I’m looking forward to the weekly paycheck, but concerned about how my son and husband will fare without me for ten (!) hours every day. I feel like a schoolgirl again, on an early September evening. I’ve picked out my clothes, packed my bag, and even bought a new purse (because my old one wasn’t big enough to comfortably house any reading material). I’ve had my shower this evening, so I don’t have to be up quite as obnoxiously early in the morning. Everything is ready for my 6:45 a.m. wakeup and 7:30 a.m. departure.

Am I ready? I guess I’ll have to be!

“That’s All Anybody Really Needs”

Monday is my wedding anniversary – 6 years since I married my best friend.  Today is the wedding anniversary of a dear friend of mine – 3 years since she married the man I never had the chance to meet.  A year ago on July 4th, her husband unexpectedly passed away.  Her Facebook status today reads:

Happy anniversary, honey. I hope it’s nicer where you are than where I am, and that cool music is always playing on the radio there.

During our conversation earlier today, I mentioned the similarities in our anniversary dates, and that I didn’t expect we would be doing anything special because money is fairly tight around here.  Her response (paraphrased):  “A night of cuddles and closeness are all anybody really needs.”

Yes.  She was absolutely right.  Times may be tough, but there is still so much for which I am grateful.  Taking a look at the situation from her perspective, I admonished myself for what I had said.  Though I know she did not intend to make me feel guilty, and that she welcomes “normal” conversation that does not tiptoe around her widowhood, I still chided myself not only for my insensitivity, but for taking for granted what I do have.

The Author and Jer Husband in July 2009

In all honesty, I already have those things that most valuable to me.  I have a roof over my head, even if it is not my own roof.  I have food on my table, and enough money to continue to buy that food, even if it means eventually dipping into savings to make ends meet.

But most importantly, I have someone to curl up with on the couch while we watch Veronica Mars or The West Wing, or play Wii games.  I have a Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit opponent, there for the asking.  I have a life partner, a father to my little boy and any future children we may have, and a companion.  I have him, and he has me.  And in the end, that’s all anybody really needs.

We’re Not in Kansas New York Anymore, Toto.

In the chaos of moving all the way down the East Coast, my blogging habits have sort of fallen by the wayside.  Hopefully that will be rectified soon, though possibly not immediately as we’re still trying to get ourselves situated down here.  (And hey – if you’re in the Ft Myers, Tampa, or Gainesville area and have need of an IT professional or Office Assistant/Writer/Editor, drop me a line!)  In the meantime, let me share a few observations I’ve made since mid-August when we arrived.  These are the ways I’ve found (so far!) in which FL differs from upstate NY:

• The differences in the weather pretty much go without saying, but I think if I neglect to mention them, someone will point it out.  So… yeah.  The weather, even at this time of year, is very different.  Hotter, more humid, etc.  And as upstate NY’s temperatures are starting to dip a bit into autumn… we’re still seeing highs around 90 pretty much every day, down here.  I’m going to miss the changing colors (and changing wardrobe options, I admit) of autumn, but I won’t at all miss the chill and treacherous road conditions of winter.

• Wildlife is definitely different down here too.  During our first week here, we found a tiny lizard in the hallway of the condo where we’re staying.  A lizard.  In the house.  In fact, they are everywhere around here!  I’ve gotten used to it now, but it’s still weird to me.
• Even going to the grocery store is a different experience down here.  My loving husband went to buy me some juice a couple of weeks ago because I was sick.  I didn’t want anything citrus because my throat was sore, and the acidity would’ve made matters worse.  But the food and drink choices down here are different too!  Wanting something non-citrus would seem to be something of a cardinal sin in the state of oranges and key limes.  That said, if you like citrus fruit and/or seafood, this is your place!  Also, the flavors of yogurts that we’ve found down here, just in the stores’ own brands… OMG, yum!  Caramel creme, guava, strawberry cheesecake…  Mmm!
• Would you believe that even shopping malls are different?  Here in the Ft Myers area, at least, the majority of the shopping centers are outside.  They aren’t quite what I’d call strip-malls, but they’re also not what I’m used to in NY.  Of course, in NY, such malls would lose a lot of business for a good quarter to half of the year!  And when you’re in a place so full of sunshine, I think it’s assumed that folks want to be outside in it.

I admit, some of it is taking some getting used to. There have been several days where I’ve sulked about how different life is down here. But then, when I moved from Groton, NY to Ithaca, NY – and when I moved from Ithaca to Rochester, I went through the same sets of feelings. This is just a grander scale transition. In time, I will find places and things (and even people) to love here, as well.

Until then, at least the transition gives me blog-fodder!

Nothing to Lose, Much to Gain

My husband received some devastating news on Wednesday – he was let go from his job. The end-result of this is that we are no longer buying our house. We spent several tear-filled hours that afternoon, and spent much of Thursday in a post-stress daze punctuated by many comforting hugs and cuddles before piling into the car on Friday to get away from it all for the weekend (visiting my family). On Monday, we jump headlong into Planning The Future.

We’re very much trying to look at this experience as an opportunity instead of a loss. Back in February, just after returning from a visit with my in-laws in Florida, we were lamenting the northeastern US winters, but we decided to stick around because of O’s job. In today’s economy, one doesn’t just walk away from steady, seemingly stable employment.

However, when that employment instead walks away from you… you become suddenly free to go wherever you want, or wherever the Fates may take you. I don’t necessarily agree with Janis’ definition of “freedom,” but we definitely hope for plenty to gain.

Photo credit

Yes, I AM Proud

My husband, the U.S. citizen

As a high schooler, I really resented having to recite the Pledge of Allegience.  To me, those words we were speaking were a great idea, but they weren’t the reality of the country we actually lived in, in the 1990s.  To be honest, I don’t think my teenaged self really understood what we have as Americans.

We live in a country where we are free to speak, to dress however we like, to marry whatever race (and in five states now, whatever gender) we so choose.  Certainly those freedoms are imperfect – and it was that imperfection on which I used to lay my focus – but we have them.  To think otherwise is to really display one’s ignorance of the world outside our own backyard.

There are places in the world where I could be killed for speaking with any man who is not a relative.  Or for wearing the gym shorts and t-shirt I have on right now.  There are places where even the imperfect tolerance of other religions, races, orientations, etc. we have, simply do not exist.

It’s taken me years to realize what I have.  To understand that yes, I still need to keep fighting for the causes I believe in, but that I at least have the freedom to keep up that fight.  In this country of ours, we have hope.  We can dream, and we can make those dreams a reality.  And that, readers, is why the man up there in that picture is smiling.  He is one of us now.  And look how proud he is!

“Hanging” on to Memories

Laundry seems a strange thing to be nostalgic about.  Yet there I was today, out in my backyard (by which I mean the postage-stamp-sized lot in back of the duplex in which I rent), hanging my first load(s) of laundry for this season, and remembering.

Buggie outside at 4 1/2 months

Last spring and summer when I would go outside, it took numerous trips.  I needed to get the laundry, a blanket, some toys, and then finally the baby.  I would put him on the blanket in the shade with his toys while I hung the laundry, and he would just stay there.  He would sometimes play with the toys, but he was also just content to watch the world go by around him.  He loved the change of scenery.  When the laundry was hung, the whole process was reversed – baby inside, then the blanket and toys.  (The laundry would stay put, obviously.)  In the spring, he was only just rolling over.  By summer, he could sit up, but crawling wouldn’t come for a while yet.

Me at 31 weeks pregnant

Let’s back up by another year, then.  Two summers ago, I was pregnant.  As the weather got warmer and warmer, I got bigger and bigger.  I remember the unique challenges in hanging maternity clothes because the seams don’t line up quite the same way as they do in regular clothes.  I remember the end of summer, when I received my first lot of hand-me-down baby clothes.  I washed them and hung those outside as well.  It made me smile to see those tiny garments on my clothesline.  Burpcloths, receiving blankets, and tiny, tiny little clothes.  We never had any “newborn” sizes, which was just fine.  At 8 pounds and 5 ounces and 21 inches long, Buggie would never have fit into them anyway.

Buggie at 16 months old

This year, I have neither a growing belly, nor a tiny little baby.  Now I have a toddler.  Today, he came outside with me again.  This time, we didn’t have the blanket, but we still had toys.  I didn’t have to carry him out to the backyard; he walked there himself.  I couldn’t just park him in the shade because he’s so very mobile, which meant being sure he was slathered with sunblock and wearing a hat.  Today, he kept me company as I hung up our clothes – his (which keep getting bigger!), his daddy’s, and my own.  He “helped” by taking the clothes out of the basket, and either handing them to me or (more often) dropping them on the ground next to it.  Once or  twice, he started to wander off, but mostly he stayed right nearby, finding his own amusements.

By next summer, I expect even more changes.  By then, we hope to have bought and moved into our own home.  Perhaps I’ll have returned to the workforce and Buggie will be in daycare.  Will we be expecting baby #2 then?  What changes will be shown on 2010’s clotheslines?

Feeling Like a Grown-up

(not our actual car)

In 2004, my husband and I bought our first “real” car. It was actually the third car we owned together – the first we bought from a guy down the street for $600, and the second was given to us by O’s brother. Our current car, a Subaru Outback sedan, was our first experience with going to a dealership, taking test drives, getting financing, and eventually coming home with a shiny new-to-us vehicle.

Throughout the whole experience, I remembered going to car dealerships (and being bored to tears!) with my parents, when I was a child. It’s rather surreal to do things for yourself that you remember your parents doing when you were a child. It really hit me then (at age 28) – I was a grown-up, at least in one way.

one of the houses we looked at

This year, O and I started shopping for houses. That, too, brought back memories of trips with my parents to view homes. Doing it myself, though, was overwhelming and more than a little terrifying. Somehow it was a lot less scary dealing with cars than with houses. Perhaps because instead of the 5-figures of debt that a car purchase brings, we were looking at going for 6. Six-figure sums are pretty intimidating to think about! Besides, we were choosing the place where our son would grow up, thereby reminding me of all the responsibilities in my life. So again, now at 33 years of age, I was becoming a grown-up in a whole new way.

People ask me sometimes what I want to be when I “grow up,” and I jokingly respond that I don’t necessarily plan to grow up at all. Those who know my family well know that we all tend to stay pretty young-at-heart well into our golden years. I’ve gotten married (twice), become a mother, graduated from college. I’ve made life-changing decisions, and moved way from the area that was my home for nearly 26 years. I know what I want my career to be, and I am taking steps in that direction. I’m the one who generally handles our finances, and I am very responsible with our spending.

Somewhere along the line, when I wasn’t looking, I think I actually did become a Grown-up. In all the ways that count.

The Downside to Looking on the Bright Side

The economic troubles facing our nation struck a little too close to home today. We’d known today was the day and were therefore prepared for the worst. I sat by my computer all morning, waiting for each piece of news to filter down to my husband and then to me. In the end, he was spared. But not before a million worst-case scenarios and plan B, C, D, etc. had their chances to play around in my head.

In my imagination, we had endless possibilities. O could go back to school and finish his degree and/or take over as stay-at-home parent while I returned to full-time work outside the home. We could move out of this frozen tundra where we currently live and head further south. It would be a struggle to do any of these things on short notice like this, but there were options out there, if the worst had happened today.

Let me just state for the record, I am beyond relieved that my husband is still employed, and my heart goes out to all those who are not. I am also proud that I was not all doom and gloom about the prospect. However, the flip-side to all this optimism, and looking at the bright side is that you begin to have little fantasies. Looking at a potential loss as an potential opportunity means that when the loss doesn’t occur, the opportunity is lost, instead.

Obviously the safety and security of a steady income is not something I take for granted – especially after today. But still I can’t help but wonder about the “what ifs.”

But maybe I just shouldn’t think so far ahead in the future.

my husband's Xerox hat

Fears

I’ve often joked that I am afraid of pretty much everything. While that is obviously an exaggeration, I certainly have my fair share of phobias, many of which relate to the idea of being trapped somewhere. (Typically this means literally physically trapped, but in some instances it has been known to extend to a more abstract or emotional feeling.)

Anyone who’s known me for any length of time knows that some of the big fears include airplanes, heights, winter travel (whether or not I am the one driving), and abandonment. These, at least, are the ones that actually affect me in any sort of real way. Things like the fear of being buried alive or of drowning or suffocating, etc., obviously have less of an impact on my daily life.

Once Buggie was born, though, a whole new category of fears was opened. I now fear for someone else’s life as much as or more than my own. This was already true to a certain degree with my husband, but it’s simply more profound when you become a parent.

When Bear told me he had to make a business trip later this month, I was suddenly keenly aware of a new brand of fears – becoming a single parent. See, my fear of flying is one that tends to be “projected,” meaning that if someone close to me is flying, I am just as likely to be afraid of their flight as I would be of my own. It suddenly struck me that if something were to happen to him, it was no longer about being “abandoned” or alone – now it is about being solely responsible for another human life!

Wow, I realized, that’s … terrifying. No one would be here to do night-time parenting for me. No one could “rescue” me when I have a Screamy Mommy Day, to take care of Buggie and I if one (or both!) of us is sick. And I remembered that the reason I was willing to have a baby in the first place was because I knew Bear would be an excellent partner in parenting. It never crossed my mind what would happen if I had to do it on my own. I’m sure most parents never think of that until/unless they have to.

Still, the silent prayers of my heart are always for the safety and well-being of my husband and son.