Mid-week slump

There’s really nobody in the office this week. This lawn gnome is keeping me company.

It’s Wednesday, and 5 out of 6 of us are home. My stepsons got out of school early for finals week, FJ is sick, and Martin and I are home because FJ being sick meant we didn’t sleep enough last night.

I’m staring out the window at a tree like it’s going to tell me how to salvage the day.

Look, I do a lot- so I’m not positive why I’m berating myself- except that I should be putting in a solid 8 hours of work-work today and there just isn’t that much to do with most of the office already on Christmas break.

And I have this crawling feeling like something is escaping me, and I’m not actually on top of anything and I shouldn’t relax. Maybe that’s just a testament to how the year has gone.

Things went unhinged (again) with my stepkids’ mom back in April, and we’ve had full custody of them since April. Stepkidsmom is bipolar, but, like my sister, she also has schizophrenic episodes too. She was in a fully manic state throughout most of the early spring, but even after being arrested and placed in a mental health facility, she wouldn’t take medication. Fast forward to July and (after some other brushes with “the law”) she got herself arrested at 3 in the morning.

Her dad had frozen access to the retirement fund he has for her, because she’d blown through so much money in a week. She threatened him with a knife and got herself arrested for second degree aggravated assault (a felony, if you’re counting).

I can still see the faces of my stepkids when my husband broke the news to them. Resignation- a combination of “what now?” and “of course”. She was in Harris County jail from July on.

Mental illness runs in my family too. Manic depression (as Emily Martin prefers to call it) runs in my family. This could easily be any of the 4 kids I take care of- my biological kids, and my stepkids.

Stepkidsmom hasn’t gotten better, as she still is refusing medication (with the exception of melatonin to sleep). She thinks she’s fully rational. Her father finally bailed her out of jail a few days ago, for Christmas, but all that did was introduce chaos into all of our lives- she texts my stepsons, she texts my husband. We have to compartmentalize in order to deal with the situation (them much more than me).

Stepsons don’t want to see her, which is heartbreaking, but understandable.

Meanwhile, we’ve tried to preserve my stepsons’ relationship with their maternal grandfather. He comes over on Mondays to make dinner with them, and he picks them up from school every day (even though I could do so).

Imagine how awkward it would be to have your ex-father-in-law over for dinner weekly. It’s not much less awkward having your husband’s ex-father-in-law over. But he’s a really sweet person, and it is genuinely very important to me that his daughter’s state not rob him of his relationship with the grandsons he so clearly adores.

So.

She has a competency hearing in January. In the meantime, who knows? My anxiety disorder doesn’t like when she’s “on the loose”. I don’t want one of us to be the next to have a knife pulled on us.

My aunt did that to my dad when he was little.

Anyway,
It’s almost Christmas, and I THINK we might be killing it on the “keeping things normal / keeping things merry / giving the kids a good Christmas” front. And I’m whisking everyone off to Pennsylvania for a week after Christmas, where we’ll be safe for a while.

My part of Houston loves gaslighting

The above house is pretty much the template for new expensive Houston houses. In the swamp, we like brick. And we like gas lanterns because… the South. 

Sales pitch: Are you ready? This one’s just going to be introspective hand-wringing and therefore might be the most boring thing you’ll read today. 

Stepson #1 (A.) had a tennis party to go to last night- “Tennisgiving” they called it because… tennis+Thanksgiving. And I should have known that whomever offered to host would have a BFH (big f’ing house). They always do.

But I Google Street viewed it, and was pleasantly surprised to see a wee little ranch house (I call them grandparent houses, because in many neighborhoods, the only ones that haven’t been torn down for a McMansion are owned by the elderly.) When we pulled up, I saw that the grandparent house had VERY recently been leveled and, yep, replaced by a McMansion complete with the flickering gas lanterns beloved by southern bougies.

“I want a rich friend.” C. exclaimed.

In their school district, they probably have several already. There’s certainly money to be had in Houston, albeit much of it is the “live well while the world burns” variety. But our house is not in their school district (where the money is)– they’re zoned from their mom’s house, which made a lot more sense logistically years ago, and still makes sense from a “that’s the better school district” perspective.

So desirable is Memorial/Spring Branch, that it is among the places in Houston where people choose to buy up the tiny lots and build McMansions with no yards.

But I digress.

I liked these people’s house. It was very on-trend. I liked their bougie gas lanterns, though I make fun of EVERYONE needing to have those. I hated that they had Christmas decorations up already, including two gaudy Christmas trees (can’t buy taste!)

Mostly I hate how it made me feel. Like, if I’m playing this game where money is why I do things, I need to win it. Because I always need to win everything. Even though I like my quirky house, and I like that it needs renovation so that I get to do it. And I genuinely love home decorating.

I think part of it is that at age 40 (in 2 days), I feel like I’m just starting out and that I’m horribly behind the curve in life. Never mind the amazing adventures I’ve had- OTHER people are mid-career.

Having two kids ages 14 and 12, and then two who are 2 means that I’m constantly crossing worlds, between established folks and young families just trying to manage the drama of small children.

Who do I want to be as an adult?

I don’t want my uncertainty to keep manifesting as disdain towards these people whom I’ve never met. I don’t really feel disdain. I feel like I’m still finding my way.

I think I need to read this book, just for the title: What if This Were Enough?

***

p.s. Somewhere along the line I signed up for notification of incoming UPS deliveries. Yesterday I got notice that I am going to be receiving two UPS packages from a law firm today.

The problem with being anxious is that I’ve spent the past 24 hours preparing to find out that M or I have done something horribly wrong and been sued. I can’t think of what this horrible thing would be – but the only interaction I’ve had with the legal system in my life has been our current custody filings. Oh, and the time my ex-roommate took me to small claims court for moving out of our apartment early (underscoring why I wanted to move away from her). I go out of my way to avoid trouble.

I think by the time you read this, I’ll know what the stupid packages are.

A literal p00pshow

We spotted 4 alligators during our Sunday walk in Brazos Bend State Park with M’s family

It’s been a strange week and my rhythm is off. Work meetings prevented me from both yoga and barre class, which help me to feel less like a desk-blob. The election. Toddlers. Not sleeping well….

This morning I was changing CW’s diaper when FJ approached me:

“I wanna go on a walk.”

Well actually, first he said he wanted to go Trick or Treating, which thrilled me. He liked it this year! 2.5 marks the beginning of a fun time in our Halloween lives. Anyway, I reminded him that he needed to get dressed for school first.

The next thing I knew, there was a turd on my kitchen floor.

FJ had decided to wriggle out of his pants and diaper- but he’d pooped. And as he’d pulled the diaper down he’d rubbed it all down his legs before “dumping it” on the floor.

“Is that my poo poo on the floor?” he asked me, as he stood there covered in it.

I laughed. M thinks it’s a good sign that I didn’t lose my… shit. Honestly, I was too tired.

I’ve been waking up at about 5am and tossing and turning for a while. I want to be asleep, but I’m not. So today I’m feeling a mix of incompetent, ambivalent, and cranky about everything.

And my 40th birthday is less than a week away, but this year my strategy has been to pretend it isn’t happening, for some reason. M and I are going to California so I can give a presentation (that I haven’t written yet), and I sort of assumed a hasty getaway was all the present I could ask for. Plane tickets to Silicon Valley sure aren’t cheap!

At one point I made a list of things I wanted for my birthday. It included a massage at Dolce Vita, to get our bedroom painted (finally), and new bath towels that I’d picked out. And it included gathering with friends in some way.

Instead, I have been paralyzed on all fronts. I feel like I sit around a lot of the time, telling myself I’m about to spring into action, but instead I just pick off “quick wins” on my to-do list all day.

More soon. Earlier today, I mulled over visiting my stepsons’ mom in jail (she’s still in jail, and has been since early July), but I came to the same conclusion that I always do- it would be weird for everyone. Yeah, I know I can’t just drop that as the last sentence here and run away, but that seems to be my m.o. this week. I’ll tell you about the jail thing some other time.

No, YOU’RE awkward

I don’t often wear skirts, but when I do, I don’t know what to wear under them. Bare legs = no good. Everything indoors in Houston is way too air conditioned, and I have these weird residual feelings from growing up WASPy that skirts without “panty hose” are immodest. Tights are no good- they ride up and down. But they keep me from flashing someone while failing to sit like a lady.

So here I am, post-lunch drowsy despite the irresponsible amount of coffee I’ve downed.

Since I just started blogging again, maybe I should reintroduce myself? Hi, I’m Liz. I started this blog while living in Japan and needing somewhere to get my thoughts out in English. Then I maintained it, mostly to vent/whine while going through my grad-school induced divorce. Then I got re-married and got two stepsons. Then I had twins and, well, damned if I didn’t try to keep this thing updated. But while trying to work a full-time job, teaching part-time on top of that, and wrangling 4 kids, I kinda fell off the bandwagon. When we took over full custody of my stepsons, blogging became more of a pipe dream (so did showering and… makeup?). From 0 to 4 kids in 3 years? Intense.

Anyway.

I decided to blog again because I’ve got a lot of pent up anger. As far as I can tell, this anger comes from two sources:

1. Every time I respond lovingly to the twins when I really want to bang my head into the wall while screaming (they’re 2.5- this happens a lot)
2. Every time I don’t yell at my stepsons for being teenager-y/tween-y when I should, because I am afraid of being the evil stepmom.

M, my husband, is having similar issues with simmering anger. I’m pretty sure 90% of it is #1 for both of us.

FJ (Twin A) is super high maintenance. He’s a stubborn diva (which, I deserve), who won’t stop talking if he’s awake. CW (Twin B) is a semi-verbal snugglebunny. The only time M and I get any peace when they’re awake is when we cave and put on “The Monster Truck show” (Amazon Prime)

I hope you’re having a bearable Thursday. I’m going to go do a Barre workout later because I am apparently a masochist. And I need to punch out some work frustration.

—

Creature Comforts:

(I think I’ll make a little corner for the self-care that allows me to appear semi-functional, because (to cannibalize a quote from that seminal show of our times: UNHhhh), it’s my blog, and not yours.) Nested parentheses will be part of it, obviously.

Show: Poldark – it’s a Masterpiece Theater production, so I feel like I’m about to watch Downton Abbey every time the music starts. There are a lot of crackling fires and dimly lit pubs, which makes it perfect for Fall (even in Texas). I have just told you nothing about the plot. (Amazon Prime)

Why is Poldark so swarthy? He’s English and his cousin isn’t swarthy.

Drink: Four Sigmatic’s Mushroom Coffee Mix (the Achieve blend) – drinking mushrooms mixed with my coffee weirdly makes me feel like a high-function hyoooman.

Rub on ye: Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Body Butter…. As a product junkie, I’m not easily impressed. But good God does this smell amazing. It’s sweet and spicy and I’m sure someone has tried licking it.

(Ed. note: I get no money from linking to these because I don’t have my $hit together like that.)

p.s. I will never be cool:

Boss #2: You should meet [colleague], she’s kind of the opposite of you.
Me: Oh, less introverted?
Boss: Less… awkward.

 

Starting Over

1. I think I might blog again. Just because writing is kind of how I think about things. And it’s almost my 40th birthday, and what the heck.
2. Might actually get this here website a URL.

Corporate FOMO

I’m going to try to write more in here. To what end? I don’t know. But it seemed like a good 2017 goal- either I update this thing, or I delete it and move on.

So.

For the first time recently, I started to see the value in a life coach. My plans have been in such flux for a while now as I wrestled with the challenge of staying in Houston and somehow not wasting the years and years I’ve sunk into academia… getting my PhD and whatnot. You know, training to be a professor.

I’m contracting right now, because adjunct teaching don’t pay the bills. And as I type this, I’m listening to the people at this company laugh from the kitchen. I keep wanting to wander in there and insert myself into the conversations, whatever they may be. I don’t want to miss out on what sounds like fun. And even after only a year, I’m tired of feeling like I’m endlessly scratching on doors, trying to get someone to give me a chance– tenured faculty members, company leadership, editors, etc. I’m always questioning whether I should be shmoozing (I hate shmoozing), chatting up potential bosses if I bump into them in the elevator (I hate unplanned encounters).

I wonder if my sense of humor is too offbeat. I made a joke earlier today about being a cokehead with my supervisor. He gave me an odd look. I get a lot of odd looks. What works for me as a teacher doesn’t seem to work in a corporate setting- and I know better, but I can’t seem to help myself.

Since I’m not full-time here, I didn’t know about an all-company meeting they were having, and walked into the wrong door this morning, right into the path of the CEO’s presentation to the crew. I froze, unsure whether to back out or move forward. I smiled a close-toothed, wincing smile as I stood there.

I actually applied to be a director at this company. Thing is, I’d actually do a great job. But my resume is basically: “School!”, so I need someone to give me a chance (in this case, a massive leap of faith). After 2016, in the short term all I want is financial security- and some serious home repairs. So I hope they will.

Pumpkin Spice Baby Food

Ok, I’m about to get Pinterest-y up in here. Or rather, to get Pinterest-y on behalf of my husband, who invented this recipe.

We’ve been venturing back into making our own baby food, because the twins currently eat 21 cups (!) worth of baby food a week. Oof, my budget. Anyway, it’s a lot of fun to invent recipes for them, and my husband, M, made this one as a poke at me for my love of fall Pumpkin-spice goodness.

Here’s the recipe:

-8 cups cubed pumpkin (go ahead and take out your life frustrations on a pumpkin, or find some frozen, if you can)

-1 tsp vanilla
-1 apple, your choice of variety
-1 tbsp nutmeg
-1 tbsp cinnamon
-1 tbsp ginger

1. Cook the pumpkin – M. boiled it, but he recommends roasting it instead. Either way, cook it until the texture is a bit mushy. (*See roasting instructions below.)
2. If you boil it, reserve the water to thin the mixture later and add back some vitamins!
3. Add filtered water (if roasted) or pumpkin water (if boiled) to thin, and food process/blend.

Optional: You can add a pear or more apple  if it’s not sweet enough for your baby (it won’t be very sweet, but we’re trying to train the babies away from needing sweets at every meal).

*Roasting: preheat oven to 425, then place pumpkin on a baking sheet and roast until they are tender when pierced with a knife tip, 30-45 minutes.

The twins love it. 

Happy Fall, Y’all!

Got my Pumpkins, But not my Life Plan

Every week is different, but they’re all pretty interesting… what makes them so is the combination of different projects I’m working on at the moment. Project one is the babies. Project two is teaching, and trying to maneuver behind the scenes to turn that job into a full-time position so that I can stay in academia without leaving Houston.

More than a year ago, before I came down with a case of “the pregnancy”, I submitted a journal article. I got back the usual “revise and resubmit”, but I actually hadn’t opened the feedback until now, a year later. I was too tired and overwhelmed.

The reviews are hilarious. One recommended immediate acceptance and gave it the highest possible scores. The second went on what sounded like an emotional rant about what a piece of garbage it is, and gave it the lowest possible scores. The editor was like (….) but wrote that if I managed to garner such extreme reactions I must be doing something right. Kinda cool. Anyway, I must revise some bits to address “angry reviewer”‘s gripes.

I am also toying with taking on freelance projects- this happened by accident. A design firm in town got in touch with me out of the clear blue and asked if I’d do a three week project for them. Then, after my hopes skyrocketed, they flaked- said they’d decided they could handle the project in-house after all. But I got a taste of the money, and I must admit, I liked the idea of actually getting to pay down my debt.

Speaking of, my first choice academic publisher wants to talk to me about my book- in person. How do I explain that I don’t have the money at the moment to fly to conferences at which I’m not presenting because their call for papers happened when I was birthin’ the twins? (Plus, I don’t know whether they’re even worth the investment right now!)

Oh, so much life confusion.

Ok, so some random things:

I can hear little C2 babbling upstairs- the little dork has only been “napping” for an hour, but he slept through the night last night (Sweet Jesus yes) so he’s forgiven.

After seeing how much baby food for two growing twins is costing us, I am back on the “making baby food” bandwagon (not an affiliate link- I don’t have my act together enough for that). I may be behind on all other crafting and planning and tidying and exercising, but the baby food thing is happening. You’ll see.

After my friend K got me to go to two in-person classes with her, I tried the online Bar Method classes yesterday. How are they? I have no idea- a minute into it, the twins started fussing and crying, and they didn’t let up until I forlornly turned off the video and gave them my full attention.

Being only the stepparent, I had no idea Monday was a day off for A and C. Made me wonder whether I have the day off from teaching too. But nope, it’s the usual routine. I got a fun primer on the sins of Columbus from C this morning – as we say in Texasland, Happy Fall y’all.

I’m Still Here, Just Overwhelmed

Caveat: I have no idea what it’s like to have one baby (if you’re reading this and you don’t know me, I have 7 month old twins). In my imagination, it’s impossibly easy, and I know that’s not accurate or fair. I also know that anyone with more than one young kid at a time / kids who are close in age experiences some of the same daily challenges that I do.

But I want to explain a few things. Mostly, because I’m terrified that people don’t get where I’m coming from. When someone asks something of me these days, I have an intensely hostile reaction that is a combination of panic (if I say yes, I’ll let them down eventually), guilt (because I want so badly to say yes much of the time), anger (because why doesn’t everyone understand that I -can’t- right now?!), and fear (by the time the twins are one, all of my friends and family and colleagues will be fed up with me). I know that right now I am forgetful, flaky, but above all, well-meaning.

I’m prone to making grand sweeping post-mortem announcements after something has gone wrong: “We’ll never do THAT again.” “This is why we always need to…” and I don’t even mean these things. It just makes me feel better to say them.

I can’t run errands efficiently- this must be true of people with more than one kid, period. I don’t have one of those “double baby wearing” harnesses, so I have to take the twins in either the mammoth stroller, or their heavy car seats. Some days, dealing with either or both seems too daunting to me. We don’t move around easily, so I try to combine my errands into half-day binges. This introduces different problems.

I’m always on edge if I’m by myself, because of a situation that happens often at home- one of the boys is crying, needs something. And just as I am tending to his needs, the other starts wailing too. I have to suffer through a lot of despondent tears while taking care of one baby and then the other. If this happens in public, it can spiral out of control quickly, and I usually wind up super stressed out.

The boys don’t really want to be on the same schedule, or even eat the same way. I find it really difficult to plan around them, because I don’t know what to expect on a daily basis. Even if one naps well, the other might not.

It’s really difficult for me to carry both of them at the same time, particularly if picking them up from their cribs. So, I often have to make two trips up and down the stairs, leaving one crying while I do. This makes me feel terrible.

I can’t competently feed both at the same time, although I do it sometimes anyway. Feeding both solid food takes about 90 minutes these days. That’s an intense 90 minutes, and I don’t usually get a break after. If one starts melting down while I am feeding the other, the whole process gets derailed and takes even longer.

I have a choice to make when someone asks me to meet up with them- if it’s a weekend I can try to get M to watch the twins for me (unless it’s an activity for both of us). But I spend much of the time away from home panicking, because I don’t want anyone to feel the way I do when both babies are sobbing at the same time, and I have to decide which one to soothe first. I can only fully relax, when I know the adult-to-baby ratio is at least 2:2. That said.. my sanity hinges on these breaks.

If it’s a weekday, I have to bring the twins. They will probably fuss, and disrupt the activity/meeting/appointment, but I can’t afford to always pay a babysitter to cover hours beyond my teaching blocks. I’m trying to pretend that I’m doing academic work in addition to all of this babycare, so colleagues sometimes ask me if I can meet them for meetings big and small. I can’t. Not without about a week’s notice.

I am mostly exhausted, so by the time Friday evening rolls around I want to lie face down on my floor for a few hours. Then I feel shitty for not being up to socializing.

When the babies do fall asleep at the same time, I go into panic mode- okay, I MUST work. I must get something done. (Note: not a conducive state to getting work done.) Often it takes me 20-30 minutes just to de-stress enough to focus, and on the bad days someone wakes up by then.

I sacrifice weird things in my attempts to get focus either on work, or on babies. I’ve needed to go to the doctor for months. I skip showers.

What I need from people is not requests for me to do things for them- I want to help, but I can’t. I want to so badly. This stage is temporary, I swear. If you come over and bring food (and drink), so I don’t have to cook or run errands, that’s a lifesaver (I’ll pay you back!) If you invite me over and respect that I’ll have to take a break around 7pm to put the babies down somewhere in your house, that’s also a lifesaver. If you do anything- anything at all to borrow me time to work or for myself- that’s the kind of thing I don’t forget and will file away to pay you back somehow when I am more functional.

In the meantime, don’t give up on me please. My desk is littered with post-it notes reminded me to even return text messages. Anything bigger may actually not get done.

***

Why am I telling you all this? Because someone with one baby was teasing me earlier for “not just strapping the babies to me and getting on with my day!” and it set me off a bit. I imagine it would be a whole other world if I just had one I could baby wear everywhere.

(End Note: to even write this, I put the twins in their bouncers for a few minutes. I haven’t had a break yet today and I needed it. I also just nearly drank from a baby bottle rather than my coffee cup. This whole entry was going to be even longer, but they’ve been fussing the whole time I’ve been typing. Finally, I am covered in baby food squash.)

I Broke the Reasonable Bone in my Body

(Let’s see how easily I can type with a baby on my lap.)

I have two kinds of reactions to annoyance these days: overreactions, and massive overreactions. It doesn’t take much to push me from “anxious, but basically okay” to “why did I just punch the car radio?”

The other day M asked me which is the closest Home Depot to our house- we were already driving up the street, but it wasn’t as though WE WERE ALL GOING TO DIE IF I DIDN’T FIND THE ANSWER IMMEDIATELY.

Siri didn’t cooperate. Google Maps seemed angered by my failure to call it THE Home Depot. I had nothing and we were almost to the stop sign at the end of the street already. I started yelling at the phone, and not in a reasonable “Oh shucks, technology” sort of way.

Yesterday, I had just showered while C2 was crying- he didn’t want to be put down, fed, etc. And he’d just had a nap. Clean diaper and all that stuff you check. I gave up and decided I would jump in the shower anyway. But my nerves were rattled (I forgot to shave one leg… I accidentally put on a dirty, stinky shirt) I got out of the shower to various time-sensitive demands on my attention – I hadn’t sent a package off at the post office last week, the insurance wanted me to resubmit a claim, a copy of my finalized syllabus was due to the university. And little C2 was not having it. Just then I saw it- a half a Nutri-grain bar smooshed into the couch, leaving crumbs and fake fruit filling everywhere. I did not have a reasonable reaction.

I felt like one of those stock photos of “overwhelmed woman”. I think they use the same images for “woman who needs to go on meds” too.

Sigh. I’m teaching again, in an adjunct sort of way- leaving alone that I said I’d never adjunct (again) because it’s slave labor, supporting a system I don’t want to support. Great for retirees who need to “stay active” though!

But, my stress is so high that it’s been… challenging. I’ve had some of my worst anxiety moments of all time trying to teach this week. They’re big classes, for seminars anyway (40 students), so it just feels like a lot of eyes on me.

Finally, our local Toyota dealership is fired. I dropped my car off for repairs on Monday- they said 24 hours. I can’t get anyone on the phone there who won’t 1) Hang up on me 2) Tell me they’ll call me back, and not do so 3) Burp in me ear (okay, that happened once). I’m about to take my overstressed, unreasonable self over there and behave badly ….

Ha, can you imagine, really? I’m so non-confrontational. The worst I get is “mildly stern” in situations like this. Very… mildly.

Ok… I’ll try to work. Just not in much of a state to do so today.