Oh yeah, we gathered together at a communal table; many of us ate a turkey, a ritual which summons the ghosts of Christmas time tables and chants the sun to sleep with a lulling solstice song.
Since 2009 or so we've celebrate Thanksgiving in San Francisco with Andrew's family and this year was no exception. It was a pleasant affair - more intimate than previous years, with about 12 people in attendance. Chaya was the crowning jewel of all table settings of course, but she had some hefty competition from various other charming young folk. Hey, I'm in my mid-thirties now. I can talk about twenty-somethings like they're just "kids." It gives me some minor twinge of levity to do so even if I wonder if they haven't got as much or more figured out than I have. Ok, with my burdensome omphaloskepsis, I haven't figured out much. To quote The Good Place, I have panic attacks during rock paper scissors because there are - and I semi quote - "too many variables." So they've probably got significantly more than me figured out. Touche. But have they seen my navel and it's slightly uncanny metamorphoses in its postpartum form? Double-touche!
But yes, Chaya was the jewel. It's been funny to hear several people proclaim how "pretty" Chaya is. It roils the heckles of my inner feminist, though only a wee bit. Of course to me she is the living embodiment of exquisite snot-covered muddy tangled up gleeful BEAUTY. But to me, she's beautiful like the starry sky from atop a remote mountain or sunset spanning the ocean tide. I kind of hope she holds onto the understanding of her own beauty for as long as she can. It would be disingenuous to pretend looks don't matter. They impact everything. And reveling in the physical attractiveness of another human being who is reveling in yours is an experience I would never with to deny her. Still I hope for a while longer she doesn't place her worth on her cupid's pout and other features that wax and wane with age.
It's complicated I suppose. I'm hesitant to emphasize any intrinsic evaluations of my little teacup-hurricane. Pretty. Smart. We make judgments and projections about people every day, but inevitably it risks a certain diminishing of their greater essence. And it almost seems to set contingencies on that love by the degree to which the observed qualities are conformed to.
Yet, at the same time, to love is to see.
Can one love without treasuring a person's individual attributes. You cannot leave a person's qualities unnoticed, I think. How crushing to be proud of a certain attribute and have it go ignored or minimalized. How life changing to have those little things you hold closest to yourself cast in the light of another's loving eyes!
Could I accept love that didn't value the characteristics in myself I hold most valuable?Short answer: Kinda hafta. With possible exceptions, nobody ever totally will "get" me. But it is harder. There are instincts to reject.
Could I accept love that didn't value the characteristics in myself I hold most valuable?Short answer: Kinda hafta. With possible exceptions, nobody ever totally will "get" me. But it is harder. There are instincts to reject.
I don't know that I could fully seek to be "loved, and not-admired" insofar as admiration comes from a sense of "wonderment" and reveling intrinsic to the quiddity of the person being loved. We can "love" humanity in an abstract way that values the totality of human existence. But in specificity, surely there must actually be specificity - and accurate specificity at that.
Can I feel loved if I don't feel seen? If I am loved but the qualities within me that I value are ignored, discounted or disliked, what happens then? A moment of ego crush? That one is a lot harder for me.
Perhaps holding onto a self-manufactured story of the ego-self isolates us from receiving love. Perhaps it would be a time to reflect and re-value. But it may also be a sign that the love itself is misplaced and misunderstood.
Perhaps holding onto a self-manufactured story of the ego-self isolates us from receiving love. Perhaps it would be a time to reflect and re-value. But it may also be a sign that the love itself is misplaced and misunderstood.
I honestly don't know.
But it is profoundly affirming when I feel seen and accepted, and when people value the things about me that matter to myself. It changes everything. From deep foundational levels.
I suppose the best trick to loving is to listen to the beloved and let them show their joys and stories without expectations. That's always hard. But harder with a three year old whose sense of self is less formed and distanced by language divides.
Perhaps (har har) I overthink. She's adorable. Duh. Inside and outside and the way she so comfortably inhabits her powerful little body is beautiful.
As we return, we settle back in, gradually attempting to recapture our fleeting and exploded sleep cycles before the pending excitement of nonstop ho-ho-holiday magic. And we've got a kid, so you know we haven't mistletoe free moment coming up.
And we wait. For many sparkling crystal balls to drop. Among the uncertainty is the medium-shot application I put in for Court Facilitator at Skagit County. A really decent fit for me in theory, but with the caveats that I may be simultaneously over and under qualified AND that our life circumstances might mean I wouldn't be able to accept it if I did get an offer. But it's certainly something I can't help but ponder with a surprising jolt of hope.
Until now I can't say that I've really wanted to get a job as much as I've felt a sense of obligation as a positive role model yadda yadda yadda to keep open to the idea. Andrew can't conceive my ambivalence about working since Chaya was born, but it's been powerful. Even in the maddest whirlwinds of Chayosity - in the loneliest moments of parental stress and isolation - the idea of missing any of those moments has made my heart break a little.
I'm aware that being a working mom, by many accounts, just means feeling like you aren't doing particularly well at either. It's about trade-offs at any rate, and until recently the trade-offs just didn't seem very worth it.
We don't financially need to share "working parent" status. And in many ways I'm just not the type of person who needs a job to define her, but there are a lot of ways that working is starting to appeal to me. To wit:
1. Zeroing out the mental load equation. Ok so partners/parents share the load, right? Or they should. And if they don't, they need to be having conversations about what messages they're sending their children and whether one parent is standing astride the loony bin trying to manage all the emotional and logistical burden for an entire family while everyone stands around shrugging haplessly and saying "if you'd just asked" because maybe they haven't seen that comic going around about the whole mental load matter. But obviously the non-working (har har, I should said non-compensated) parent took off work to be able to focus on a lot of those load issues a little more. Obviously they're more equipped to take many small things on. And the non-working parent is more familiar with the ins and outs of the household by definition. It's hard to know where that goes too far and when the non-working parent is overburdened. Of course women do tend to do more of the emotional labor even when both parents are working, but it's easier to have a sense of balance I think. And it's easier for both parents to have an equal agency in things like "the kitchen" or "the kids' schoolwork" when one isn't sort of the designated rearer.
2. Making things like "sick time" and "vacation time" a little more overt. Stay at home moms ultimately are entitled to share their partners' sick/personal/holiday time in that this is the time the working parent could use to be at home with the child while the non-working parent gets to do anything other than chaperone the kiddo. It's confusing though and can often feel like stealing or infringing somebody's hard earned money or hours, because our society is kind of built on a "you earn it, you enjoy it" cornerstone without putting any thought into what is earned as a stay-at-home parent.
3. Not being around half-eaten or totally uneaten food all the time. With Chaya I'm constantly sitting there with ten different mini-dishes in front of me and I'm constantly nibbling at them. It's trivial but it's just always there and it's a lot of willpower not to hoover up all those snacks even if I don't love them much and they tend to make me sick!
4. The money to outsource a little. I don't think there'd be a ton of extra money beyond that, but we'd have money to pay for preschool, cleaning service, and some higher quality meal packages each week. And I'd use them, damnit. Probably something to make lunches faster and easier as well. Plus a little extra
5. Sheer relatability. It is impossible to explain the experience of being a stay at home mom, which can make it extremely isolating. But being somebody who's desperately trying to balance life-work-self without enough time for any... I think every parent gets that to some extent.
6. Independence in the what-if. Every year I don't work, our situation feels more vulnerable if something happens to Andrew. The stakes just get a lot higher with a single paycheck. I can't imagine it doesn't add pressure for him.
6. And yeah a chance to be an adult, helps others, thrive etc. Those are nice, though I admit I've almost entirely suppressed such memories. Competency? What? Naw, I've done a few little things in the last few years and gotten quite the buzz out of being able to listen well (believe it or not, I do that), rephrase things accurately, organize, and generally help other people.
Of course, potential downsides still include
1. Not having time for therapy/massage-therapy/exercise/meditation. I squeeze these in pretty precariously as it is, and I suspect I'll be that much more protective of my free and family time if I have almost none of it.
2. Having so much less quality time available with Chaya. I think she'd be thrilled to have more time at school but when I got off work, I'd have to run to pick her up and then we'd run home to get dinner together. She'd be heading to bed shortly after and then we'd be rushing to get out the door in the morning. On the weekends, Andrew and I BOTH would have a ton of catch up to do to maintain the house and the chores that I couldn't get to. She and I share some really amazing little snippets of downtime and play time. We sing together. We dance. We dissect the couch and run amok. And I'm often exhausted but I still treasure those snippets.
3. Seeing more work friends means fewer other friends. I don't get out that terribly much, but we do have activities through the week.
Anyways, it's all quite theoretical. If we move-move, I dunno. It's kind of hard starting over even after this little time. But at least I'm coming to a place where I'm prepared if anything else comes up.
And now to throw all that to the wind, focus on my stone-in-the-sky imagery and hunker down for some mad holiday partying.
Perhaps (har har) I overthink. She's adorable. Duh. Inside and outside and the way she so comfortably inhabits her powerful little body is beautiful.
As we return, we settle back in, gradually attempting to recapture our fleeting and exploded sleep cycles before the pending excitement of nonstop ho-ho-holiday magic. And we've got a kid, so you know we haven't mistletoe free moment coming up.
And we wait. For many sparkling crystal balls to drop. Among the uncertainty is the medium-shot application I put in for Court Facilitator at Skagit County. A really decent fit for me in theory, but with the caveats that I may be simultaneously over and under qualified AND that our life circumstances might mean I wouldn't be able to accept it if I did get an offer. But it's certainly something I can't help but ponder with a surprising jolt of hope.
Until now I can't say that I've really wanted to get a job as much as I've felt a sense of obligation as a positive role model yadda yadda yadda to keep open to the idea. Andrew can't conceive my ambivalence about working since Chaya was born, but it's been powerful. Even in the maddest whirlwinds of Chayosity - in the loneliest moments of parental stress and isolation - the idea of missing any of those moments has made my heart break a little.
I'm aware that being a working mom, by many accounts, just means feeling like you aren't doing particularly well at either. It's about trade-offs at any rate, and until recently the trade-offs just didn't seem very worth it.
We don't financially need to share "working parent" status. And in many ways I'm just not the type of person who needs a job to define her, but there are a lot of ways that working is starting to appeal to me. To wit:
1. Zeroing out the mental load equation. Ok so partners/parents share the load, right? Or they should. And if they don't, they need to be having conversations about what messages they're sending their children and whether one parent is standing astride the loony bin trying to manage all the emotional and logistical burden for an entire family while everyone stands around shrugging haplessly and saying "if you'd just asked" because maybe they haven't seen that comic going around about the whole mental load matter. But obviously the non-working (har har, I should said non-compensated) parent took off work to be able to focus on a lot of those load issues a little more. Obviously they're more equipped to take many small things on. And the non-working parent is more familiar with the ins and outs of the household by definition. It's hard to know where that goes too far and when the non-working parent is overburdened. Of course women do tend to do more of the emotional labor even when both parents are working, but it's easier to have a sense of balance I think. And it's easier for both parents to have an equal agency in things like "the kitchen" or "the kids' schoolwork" when one isn't sort of the designated rearer.
2. Making things like "sick time" and "vacation time" a little more overt. Stay at home moms ultimately are entitled to share their partners' sick/personal/holiday time in that this is the time the working parent could use to be at home with the child while the non-working parent gets to do anything other than chaperone the kiddo. It's confusing though and can often feel like stealing or infringing somebody's hard earned money or hours, because our society is kind of built on a "you earn it, you enjoy it" cornerstone without putting any thought into what is earned as a stay-at-home parent.
3. Not being around half-eaten or totally uneaten food all the time. With Chaya I'm constantly sitting there with ten different mini-dishes in front of me and I'm constantly nibbling at them. It's trivial but it's just always there and it's a lot of willpower not to hoover up all those snacks even if I don't love them much and they tend to make me sick!
4. The money to outsource a little. I don't think there'd be a ton of extra money beyond that, but we'd have money to pay for preschool, cleaning service, and some higher quality meal packages each week. And I'd use them, damnit. Probably something to make lunches faster and easier as well. Plus a little extra
5. Sheer relatability. It is impossible to explain the experience of being a stay at home mom, which can make it extremely isolating. But being somebody who's desperately trying to balance life-work-self without enough time for any... I think every parent gets that to some extent.
6. Independence in the what-if. Every year I don't work, our situation feels more vulnerable if something happens to Andrew. The stakes just get a lot higher with a single paycheck. I can't imagine it doesn't add pressure for him.
6. And yeah a chance to be an adult, helps others, thrive etc. Those are nice, though I admit I've almost entirely suppressed such memories. Competency? What? Naw, I've done a few little things in the last few years and gotten quite the buzz out of being able to listen well (believe it or not, I do that), rephrase things accurately, organize, and generally help other people.
Of course, potential downsides still include
1. Not having time for therapy/massage-therapy/exercise/meditation. I squeeze these in pretty precariously as it is, and I suspect I'll be that much more protective of my free and family time if I have almost none of it.
2. Having so much less quality time available with Chaya. I think she'd be thrilled to have more time at school but when I got off work, I'd have to run to pick her up and then we'd run home to get dinner together. She'd be heading to bed shortly after and then we'd be rushing to get out the door in the morning. On the weekends, Andrew and I BOTH would have a ton of catch up to do to maintain the house and the chores that I couldn't get to. She and I share some really amazing little snippets of downtime and play time. We sing together. We dance. We dissect the couch and run amok. And I'm often exhausted but I still treasure those snippets.
3. Seeing more work friends means fewer other friends. I don't get out that terribly much, but we do have activities through the week.
Anyways, it's all quite theoretical. If we move-move, I dunno. It's kind of hard starting over even after this little time. But at least I'm coming to a place where I'm prepared if anything else comes up.
And now to throw all that to the wind, focus on my stone-in-the-sky imagery and hunker down for some mad holiday partying.
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