I’m ready

I’m teaching a class called Build your own web page at a local community college. A lunchtime program. It’s a topic I know well. I have a good demo. You know the one, all the graphics are predone, I have the finished file somewhere, so it looks far easier than it would be for someone to do on their own from scratch. Yeah, a good software demo.

I have a good presentation – about 25 minutes of chalk talk, and the rest building the page and Q&A. I’ve left some open topics like CMS and cool extensions just in case we have extra time.

It’s a small group – six people. But that’s quite all right. I’m looking forward to the day.

I like to work out every detail – down to what I’ll wear – I think the purple tunic, yellow boucle jacket and either gray or black pants. Possibly, very maybe my dark denim jeans. Not sure though. I’d really rather be more professional, but there is that designer casual thing.

I’m ready!

Occasionally I venture back

into my past. Which is just a click away on that sidebar! And I’m shocked at how depressed I was, how crazy I was. And then I see a side of me – click – like turning something over – and it’s reflecting back at me that this is me, just the other side of me.

The world is so much happier now. I’m at peace (busy, stressed, but at peace) because life is normal. I have a toddler, she’s 20 months old, she’s in her terrible twos, life is busy, but it is GOOD. I am not a quarter of myself. I am not so far into the blackness I cannot see light. Life is GOOD.

And then, do I want to invite that again?

not consuming, rediscovering

I’m going to grab the two cashmere sweaters I put away. One, a blue one, can be worn over other shirts (even though it’s a cashmere ‘tee’) and the other can just be weekend roomy. Or belted.

In the interim, I remembered I have great suede mocs in lime green. Fun! That’ll be fun to wear tomorrow, I think. I am going to wear a simple top, a denim jacket, my new herringbone trousers, the green shoes and a green satin ‘tie’ belt I bought years ago at Jcrew. That’ll get me through the day of meetings (and evening as well).

Hopefully it won’t rain.

Today as I was driving I was contemplating all of this. And thinking of the designer, who wrote the software that I have for sewing, who is in Italy right now, as part of her ‘teaching’. Yeah, I want that. And I thought, okay, could I do that? Not sure. But it’s part of the life I need to uncover.

I need to ask myself what it is that I *really* want out of this life, and how I might be able to get it. Maybe going back to school to be a professor is unrealistic (after all I ‘d have to work after hubs’ schedule to do that euro tour stuff anyway). But can I discover my talent in teaching – or rather expand upon it – as I’m set to do so officially as a LCC instructor this Friday.

Speaking of Friday, I have much work to do yet on the presentations. That’ll be Thursday (or weds PM too). Busy week, have much to accomplish. But now, it’s time for bed.

peaceful bedtime

Not an early bedtime, but peaceful. We dimmed the lights, turned on Soundscapes and she (and daddy) fell asleep about 10:30. She in my arms, on the couch (where she is now), nursing, and he on the recliner.

It was good. Not early, but peaceful. I’m going to turn in myself, shortly.

this morning I had a breakthrough

I was nursing E. before work, and I realized that it’s this simple. Her favorite thing, favorite place of all is in my lap, at my breast. It’s that simple. Now, in a few years it may be lap simple, not breast simple, but it’s so complete now – I feed and hold her and that’s all that she needs. My body responds to hers. As she quiets down, so do I, and we snuggle together, calm and serene.

I could sense this letting go when I got her after she started crying “mama” when she was having her time out last night (she was originally just screaming, but then as soon as she screamed mama, I went to her). She settled down almost immediately after that. I don’t want to have to give her a time out, but the hititng, biting and screeching isn’t behavior I need to or want to reward.

And after work – she wants the nursies in her nursing chair with the music on. It’s her time – and mine – to reconnect, and we’ve both been enjoying it very much.

parenting class

Listening to parenting class again. Sleep is the topic. It’s about changing one’s mindset – she WILL go to sleep. I can’t force her to do it, but I can influence it – turn down the music (there are many right ways), turn down the lights, turn on a video. It’s not all up to me either – she has her own thing too. That she’ll show us where our buttons are so we can deactivate them.

That she senses my resistance (not being OK with the situation) and that’s the battle we’re having.

Oh yeah, it’s broken

I found some flat mules in my shoe bin that are not too terrible, I’ll be wearing them almost constantly for the next six weeks. Damn. I did also find some lovely red patent ballerinas from goex at Zappos that I’d like to buy (but we’re saving for the house).

The baby is having another screaming session – first she pulled one nipple then she did the bite and yank because she was fighting me on going to bed. So I put her into her crib in one fell swoop and there she sits. Mainly screaming. But I’m at my wits end and I draw the line at mama abuse. I can hear her, though, on the monitor, and I’ll let her sit there for a bit, until she calms down (or not). It’s become a daily battle. I really need those parenting classes, and I have to learn to manage her behavior – or influence it – as we’re learning.

I can’t wait til G. comes home. Hope he knows what he’s in for.

i think i broke my toe

That &^%$$#!! of a flashlight – standing on end in the cabinet – fell on my toe, and it’s the toe I broke before I went to Italy seven years ago! How ironic!

And then I think, damn, there goes the cute shoes this fall! In fact, I’m trying to decide how I might not have to buy birkenstocks to get through THIS one! It was summer, and I had a more casual life.

I’m listening to a parenting conference call as I type this, so I might interject some things. Right now we’re talking about spending the day…with our thoughts, and how our thoughts shape ourselves. That thought patterns are not voluntary – but they can be changed.

damn that’s a lotta parsley

I started processing it. Like basil, when chopped, it makes much ‘less’ – but I still have a giant plastic salad bin full of parsley.

I’m actually standing, waving my hips back and forth. The baby/toddler has her head on my back now, which is a good sign. It’s none to easy to read this page, but hey, we do what we can. I did get almost 2 hours of good tabbouleh-processing and the appliques on the sling done.That’s more than I expected.

Part will be chimichurri/parsley pesto for fish, and part will be tabbouleh. I think I’ll take out some fish for dinner tomorrow. I’m solo, but I can do fish in a foil wrapper.

She’s awake, but quiet, so I’ll go with that. Off to see if I can lay out a cape pattern with a toddler strapped to my back.

the grim reaper, sorry, gardener

In the light of day, hubs says the parsley looks like it met a horror movie – it’s hacked all to bits, but with some valiant troopers still hanging on from my (nearly) midnight gardening last night. What can I say? It was dark out!

I’ll have to clean that up sooner than I’d planned. But tonight we plan to break out the tandem for a family after work ride – hubs is all on the bandwagon for some riding this week (hey, it’s not MY butt on a 90-mile bike ride with Lance this upcoming sunday, but I’m  happy to offer my stoker-seat driving advice). Mainly my stoker (back) seat advice on the tandem involves commentary my husband’s testosterone-fueled darts across traffic with our 27-foot-long bike and trailer combo (okay, maybe not THAT long, but it’s pretty freakin’ long). It usually goes like this:

me: “holy %$#!!, that was close! You’ve got very precious cargo back there, you know”

hubs: “It was not close, he had at least twenty feet to swerve without hitting the trailer with the baby, who is not wearing a helmet, in it”

(okay, I embelished a bit, he’s never actually said that). She hates the helmet, our child, so usually I cave in and spend the ride imagining all sorts of hideous results, all of which I regret thinking about. It’s bad. Hubs has no idea I do this. He would think I’m nuts. Look at that lovely field of fall trees and all I see is the oncoming car swerving and killing my daughter.

I’m up for the ride, need some stress relief, ha ha. The riding does me good though if I can keep a handle on my overactive imagination. And if I nurse afterwards, I get that electric dopamine shock thing that really amazes me.

Today is not a half day as usual (that will be friday since Peanut’s DCP has an afternoon event, so all the kiddies must go home early). But at lunch I have to buy gloves, because hubs can’t find our entire stash of hats, scarves and gloves from last winter. He’s got to organize the attic. He says everything got messed up last winter when he plumbed, but I’m fairly certain we were still USING said warm accessories; they did not go into the attic until much later. Hope he finds them – there’s a very expensive pair of long leather gloves I bought for all my 3/4 sleeve coats that I’ve been wanting to wear!

It’s my pumping twenty minutes. I savor these like you wouldn’t believe. They’re my respite in a day of craziness.