Hooks

Today I walked into Fritz's closet and found a bunch of hooks that I had bought at Ikea – and was reserving for my own use – installed in Fritz's closet – with clothes and hats and whatnots hanging on them.

I was quite irritated. I'm not sure, however, if I'm irritated at myself or irritated at Fritz. 

In Fritz's defense, the hooks had been sitting in the garage for a few years, because I just never quite found the perfect time or place to install them. I bought them knowing that 1) they were affordable and 2) they are were cute and 3) I'd find a place for them eventually. I also know that Ikea discontinues items and I'm picky. I've learned over the years that if something at Ikea is affordable and I like it, I should buy it because otherwise I will spend years feeling sad about not buying it when it was available. Examples: the Molger line of bathroom furniture (that was useful for so many things outside the bathroom!) or the Roy Pall (foldable stools from the early 2000s, possibly sold under another name in the States, but I can only find the Swedish name in the old archived catalogs here). 

Anyway. Where was I?

Right! Fritz used my cute hooks in his closet. 

And you might be wondering: what the heck, Ann? How can you buy hooks and then do nothing with them for YEARS.

But I did do something with some of them. I installed three in the kid's bathroom for towels. I was just waiting for the opportunity & time to use the other hooks! 

The thing is, I'm not sure whether to be mad at myself for not acting faster, or jealous that Fritz has time to go about installing hooks in his closet. Often I wonder why I don't "get anything done" and then I remember that I spend A LOT of time doing stuff for other people. I have a hard time putting myself first, even if it is as simple as hanging up some hooks that I think are cute. I mean: notice that the hooks which I did hang were hung in the KIDS bathroom. Stuff does get done around here, I do DO that stuff, I'm just super lousy at prioritizing anything that is about me. 

One of the greatest experiences in putting myself first in the last few years was when I was working full-time outside of the home. For years, I had heard other mothers use full-time jobs as an excuse for why they couldn't do things, "I can't volunteer because I have a full-time job." "We need a housecleaner because I have a full-time job." I never felt like I could use these excuses, even though I'd mentally retort with, "AND I can't volunteer because I already volunteer ALL WEEK LONG." and "I need a housecleaner because we are at home ALL THE TIME." On the one hand, I do believe my retorts are valid. But in everyday life, I was never comfortable using them as justification for anything that would benefit me. However, when I finally had one of those full-time-outside-the-home jobs, I was really comfortable saying "no" in a way that I was never comfortable before and have never been comfortable since. I liked that. And you know what? I was nicer to myself when I was working full-time-outside-the home. In fact, many days I wanted to laugh at how much easier it was to work full-time, and how quick everyone was to be impressed by me, even when life working-outside-the-home was EASIER than life at home. I ate at restaurants, I ran errands on my lunch break, I went to coffee shops by myself. I even got to daydream without interruption on my morning commute!  It was great. HAHA! 

I think about that a lot these days. I'm running two businesses these days - the Etsy business and still doing architecture. But I'm not doing either of them the way that I would work an outside-the-home job. All the work takes place at night, on the weekends, and crammed into tiny corners of the day. The days themselves are filled with the household work, the kid support, the aunt support, and etc. The pandemic changes over the last 15 months are, in many ways, a familiar throwback: I remember those days of super intense parenting when there were toddlers & babies in the house. I know how to work with fractured time and distraction. But that doesn't mean I like it. And I certainly would choose to go back to pre-pandemic life if given the option.

But mostly, what I need to figure out, is how to give ME time and priority. This is not about self-care as it relates to some sort of consumerism. This is about ME,  doing the stuff that I want to do, instead of the stuff that I have to do (for everybody else). I often joke that if Fritz is cleaning the house, he starts by cleaning his closet. Slowly. Meanwhile, I am cleaning all the public areas. In case it's not clear, cleaning ones' own closet - slowly - feels really freakin' indulgent to the person cleaning the kitchen and the bathrooms and moping floors and scrubbing down filthy door handles. This personal closet cleaning by Fritz is not really a joke, it is a fact. It is indicative of the way that we can both be "working" and we are each working in a different way. STILL. I just need to figure out how to work like him. Or I need to ask him to work more like me. Or something. And then, as I chastise myself for not making Fritz work differently/being a poor teacher of my spouse, I feel annoyed at myself that I am always laying the responsibility for change at my own feet, as though all this is my fault. Why can't Fritz take this initiative without ME? Oh wait! He did! That was when I had a job-outside-the-home.

Hm.

Salvage

This week, my aunt and I went to a biopsy appointment (for the suspected cancer found in the mammogram). My aunt's mobility is severely limited by the ALS at this point. Her fine motor skills are mostly gone, her gross motor skills are tenuous and unreliable. We had to transfer between the wheelchair and the car – or gurney – or mammogram stool – about 7 times over the course of 6 hours. And that was about 2 transfers too many. I was pretty livid at the medical staff when they wanted to take "just one more mammogram" after the biopsy "to check the marker."

Nothing is simple when one is essentially wheelchair bound. At the end of the appointment, I used the gait belt to lift her into the passenger seat of my car. She's so tiny and the gait belt, which goes around her waist,  needed so much tightening - and then, still, it slid up her rib cage, heading for her newly created incision... Ack! HORRIBLE! At one point, I glanced up at the car next to us to see an older gentleman transferring much more easily between his wheelchair and the car, and I wondered how long ago that was us. Three months ago were we able to transfer that easily? Or last week? Or just this morning?

It was extraordinarily strenuous and tiring day. 

Without a doubt, I feel that I've been shocked by the way ALS has robbed her of ordinary movement, strength, and balance...but (perhaps more surprisingly) I also feel like I'm really growing a lot in my understanding of disability.

I cringed a bit to write "disability" because I know that advocates like to use the term "differently-abled." But in the case of ALS, which grows progressively worse, it feels important to acknowledge the reductive nature of the disease. 

I'm not quite sure what I will do with my new-disability-enlightened-eyes, but I do hope that I can salvage something from this experience that can help others in the future. Sometimes I find myself surprised by how oblivious society is to disability. Even medical staff can be impressively clueless.  I'm not sure if that reflects a lack of training, a lack of respect, or a lack of exposure...? As far as training goes, I've spent a good amount of time looking at accessibility diagrams and designing "accessibility" into the buildings that I've worked on as an architect, but after having this hands-on experience, I wouldn't pretend that THAT kind of training is the same as exposure and experience. I think as a patient, my aunt often takes other's clueless-ness as a lack of respect, which is understandable, but serves to make her even more frustrated. Among the wisdoms that come out of experience and exposure, is acknowledging there are no easy, simple solutions.

Nonetheless, I wouldn't mind if my future ability to apply these lessons was a little less in the trenches. 

Drone through the Window

A delivery service has been filming a commercial in our neighborhood. There were futuristic alternative fuel vans driving around, as well as delivery drones. The kids were pretty excited, naturally. I will add that the sight of a drone with 3-4 foot wing span, flying toward a front porch, ducking under the porch to deliver/drop a package was NOT exciting in a happy, anticipatory way. 

I thought about the old cliché of the neighborhood kid, hitting a baseball through a window and I wondered if the new cliché will be a delivery drone crashing through a window. 

Maybe we will all need to put drone stickers on our windows to warn them away – sort of like you need to do with birds who sometimes attack their reflections?

Prismatic edges

This week was such a tough week. As usual, I was not admitting it to myself. I was giving myself pep talks, thinking that some people have it really much worse, and taking deep breaths to hold everything together. 

And then, one evening, after I finished downloading to my support system, I started to experience this weird eye problem where I had blurry circles in my vision. They were surrounded by prismatic colored edges. Outside the blurry spots, sight was good. So, I diagnosed myself with dirty glasses - cleaned my glasses - and I went upstairs to make some headway on an architecture project at my computer. And you know what - I couldn't see around those darn blurry spots in my vision! After about 5 minutes, I started to get a little panicked - but then rediagnosed myself with stress related vision problems, laid down (- could still see the prismatic edges of the blurry spots with my eyes closed!-) but within about 20 minutes the blurry spots were gone. 

I have to tell you: it scared me. And it really makes me think. I just need an outlet for everything that is going on lately. I've been so hesitant to blog over the last 5 years! It's good therapy for me, but my life is so entangled with the lives of so many other people! Also, there's this lopsided aspect to blogging where you feel like you talk and talk, and nobody talks back, until one day when someone you never hear from - but who has been reading your blog - suddenly enters your life with all sorts of "wisdom" and you think, wait a minute....I'm not sure how I feel about your expertise on my life based on my blog...also, why am I the only one sharing? 

Another stumbling block: how can I say what I want to say here without upsetting or betraying others?

...Well, after my blurry spots with prismatic edges, I do believe I will go ahead and share for a little while. It will be therapeutic, until it is not. And then I will stop sharing. Also, some of the major players in my life right now are really unlikely to read this blog, so I will take a calculated risk that they don't visit. 

Back to this week. So, this week, as many weeks, the drama seems to revolve around my aunt, who was diagnosed with ALS about 19 months ago. ALS is a progressive, terminal, neuromuscular diagnosis with a typical 2-5 year prognosis. To catch you up, as quickly as possible, I should mention the following facts: she lives within about 30 minutes of us. Her husband passed away about 6 years ago and she has no children. She lives by herself. It is her profound wish to remain living in her house and die at home. This last fact cannot really be overstated. It is so thoroughly embedded in her (professional and) personal identity over the decades that any suggestion of anything else will get the suggestion-maker weeks of cold-shoulder treatment. This fact also drives every decision that gets made, as we all do ludicrous gymnastics to honor and respect this wish. And I would LIKE to say that she is very thankful for all our help. But she is NOT particularly grateful; mostly, she is angry. And she behaves as though we are the bad actors in her losses to ALS.

This week, she had an appointment with a cardiologist. She has had some heart trouble in the past. A few months ago her pulse started racing, as it has before: atypical atrial flutter. Interestingly, with this flutter, she experiences almost none of the symptoms that others would experience, like, say, shortness of breath. And she is constantly seeing doctors for the ALS, so: going to the cardiologist was a mosey-on-down-to-the-cardiologist type affair.  Well. It is actually is not much of a mosey these days; she needs a wheelchair to go anywhere and transferring (between, say, the car and the wheelchair, requires me to lift her feet and place her hand on the hand holds and perhaps lift her a bit by the hips.... You know, really, the moseying was our attitude. And it turned out to be a pretty fake attitude BECAUSE:

On the way to the cardiologist, she informed me that a mammogram and ultrasound scan that had been done last week showed carcinoma with some abnormal lymph nodes. This was not totally unexpected (the ultrasound and mammogram had been done for a reason), BUT if you are on the way to a cardiologist with your neurologically compromised aunt and you find out she has metastasized cancer, it feels like a Bit Of A Thing.

The cardiologist, unsurprisingly, suggested that we do nothing for at the flutter. Any option for treatment would include anesthesia, which is highly risky given her state.

It works this way, right?  For most of us: our bodies fail at the end of life and diseases snow ball. It can feel like a lot to people on the outside (like me); but imagine how it must feel to the person themselves? Well, one really can't imagine. 

Wipe it Away

You know what I miss? 

Disinfectant wipes. 

Truth be told: I've always felt a guilty pleasure about using them. It's sort of ridiculous, right? Premoistened single-use toweletts in a big plastic tub – or plastic wrapping – how wasteful!! How bad for the environment! How toxic! And yet... yet...(they are so convenient!)...I sort of love them. 

The last several months – while they have been challenging to get and expensive to buy, even when one does find them – I have been consciously repeating the refrains about the environmental evilness and unneccesary-ness of single use disinfecting wipes ad nauseam. Meanwhile, the unconscious side of my brain works on why I love them so much. 

Early on in the pandemic, Fritz decided we could make our own disposable disinfectant wipes. We saved our empty containers. Fritz found a place on online to buy towelettes that wouldn't disintegrate when pre-moistened. We mixed up our our own disinfecting solution. Noah named it "Tub of Pool" because after it's pungent aroma. And when it stopped smelling like Pool one week later, we learned all about the shelf life of chlorine. 

These attempts at make-our-own disinfectant wipes have just reinforced the brilliance of the ones I used to buy, pre-made, in the store. The pre-made towelettes have just the right amount of durability. They are the perfect size. They wipe away the hourly-accumulating mysterious brown smudges in the Wyse Household with efficiency and thoroughness. And I know – I know – I'm just foisting extra work and damage on Mother Earth when I say this...but...it's one less piece of laundry for me to do.

sigh.

For six months I've told myself to get over it, find some new methods, grow a spine. But it's just not happening. If only I could wipe away my addiction as easily as the brown smudges in my house. 

Contact, Contacts

This Stay at Home stuff just DRAGS on and on. I mean, I suppose we could start going out more, but, like many people, we don't really feel safe enough yet. Watching other states' infection rates surge, and our own state's infection rate creep back upward, the best strategy seems to be avoid contact with others. We wear masks, we wash hands, we socially distance. And we DO stay (mostly) at home. But it's really getting old. I try to tell myself this is a stamina competition, because, really, the only way I can muster any enthusiasm is by making it a competition.

There are a few reasons I've ventured out lately and most of them have to do with my aunt and her medical needs. That means I've been to the hospital and a few doctor's offices. I have to steel myself a bit before I go; I try to remember that these medical places are the last places that want to be identified as a location having an outbreak. In theory, they should be more cautious and more safe than the grocery store. In practice, I don't know...sometimes, I feel like these medical places are so desperate to resume business that seeing patients is a risk they take merely for the income.

Case in point for useless appointments - the one I had with my ophthalmologist, who refused to issue me a new contact lens prescription. It had been three years since my last contact lens prescription. (I wear my glasses a lot.) But last year, I'd gotten a new eyeglass prescription. You would think that they could have written a new contact lens prescription based on the glasses. But no, they needed me to come in for a contact lens fitting. And to test my vision. AGAIN. And after lots of fogging up of the their eye testing machine (because that happens when you wear a mask), and dilated pupils, and trying on contacts that were the wrong prescription but the right diameter, and yada-yada, they discovered SURPRISE! my eye balls are the same size they were three years ago and SURPRISE! my eyesight is the same as last year. I was pretty furious by the time I left, because it was all such a lot of unnecessary exposure, as much for the people working in the office as for myself.

I would have continued wearing my glasses indefinitely, were it not for the fact that I thought I should start running. I feel determined to keep running, just so I can say I did something worthwhile while avoiding people. Anyways: one day I went running with neither glasses (which are just inconvenient) nor contacts (because I was trying to save the few pairs I had left). Then I tripped and fell while running. Unlike my kids, I discovered it took my two-score-and-three-year-old body WEEKS to heal. I was reminded that I am old enough to be cautious about injury. AND I should probably wear some sort of prescriptive vision correction, lest I trip and make contact with the pavement again.

Random Stuff Happening Under Stay at Home Orders

Using Zoom or FaceTime:

• One kid went on a backyard campout.
• We attended a wedding.
• Fritz presented to his colleagues in Germany.
• One kid had a grill cookout.
• We played Settlers of Catan.

We've been using Costco/Instacart for deliveries. we discovered that Costco is letting Instacart shoppers enter the store and complete their shopping outside of normal business hours – which,  I think, is good. I know it's unlikely, but I do wish grocery stores would close to the general public and convert to parking lot pickup and delivery. Or maybe just half of the grocery stores. It would be so much safer for everyone, and probably a hell of a lot more efficient.

I'm gaining weight. I've decided that now is not the time to fuss over food (or losing weight). So I'm trying to keep focused on simply Eat Mostly Healthy, Get Some Exercise Everyday. The End. (But we are at the point of Needing Bigger Sized Clothing. Ugh.)

Trixie and I have been running together in the morning. Historically, I am miserable running with other people. I like to run ONLY when it is Alone Time. But Trixie, at 6 years old, had proven to be a pretty good running partner for my out-of-shape self. And she's actually into it, which is something I could never ignite in either of her older brothers. 

A funny story - Noah - age 13 - got a smart phone. (Honestly, I don't know how we'd be sane in the current situation without giving the kid his own phone).  When he got the phone, he set up Siri with voice commands. And...in the course of the last 5 weeks, Siri has stopped responding his "Hey Siri!"  Noah's Siri only now responses to Mattias - age 10. Hello, adolescent voice change. Guess AI hasn't figured out that one yet.

Double Hump

One of my confidants told me this weekend that she saw a family in masks walk past her house on the street. And she grew quite annoyed by their masks, until she was pierced by the desire to yell at them to take off their masks and breathe some fresh air!

I thought about this comment for a long time afterwards. It seemed that the comments revealed less about the choice of the family to wear mask and more about her desire for the pandemic to be over, or her frustration with the stay at home orders, or her own weariness of feeling protected to the point of trapped. I believe we are all getting weary of staying at home.

And it doesn't help that so many things don't work right now. If you wanted to be tested for covid-19, you probably couldn't be. If you need some protective equipment or toilet paper, you can't get it. If you thought you were going to get a relief payment from the federal government, you probably didn't. If you applied for a small business loan, you most likely heard nothing. If one of your family members was hospitalized, you may have very little idea of how they are doing. If you want to work, you maybe can't.

Words are meaningless if they are not backed up by action. There are lots of words from the federal government, but no actions.

My brother shrugs his shoulders and says to me over the phone, from thousands of miles away, "It is what it is."

No. I tell him. It is what we've let it become. Stop contributing to this self-fulfilling prophecy of helplessness.

I watched the protests unfold this weekend and I struggled with my own sense of frustration and helplessness. But the scary reality that we are all about to face in the US is how little we have done to really address this virus over the last month of staying at home. Sure, we stayed home. But it wasn't enough. We didn't really do that hard work over the course of the last month to get us out of this mess. That means: we didn't do enough testing, we didn't set up isolation health centers, we didn't figure out how to ramp up our in-country supply production/manufacturing, we didn't make enough plans to phase back into opening society safely, we didn't teach people (apparently) enough about the importance of masks. (And by the way, DOING that type of preparation provides jobs for people and helps the economy a lot more than throwing money at airlines, cruise ships and hotels.) But now, everybody is antsy and angry and the pathetic actions by the federal government have made the situation worse than necessary.

Here's what happened to the death rates in my hometown when we eased restrictions too soon, 101 years ago:

Inventory

Here in the Wyse Home City, in response to the coronavirus, schools have closed. Libraries are closed. Rec Centers are closed. Athletics are canceled. Universities have closed and/or moved to online learning. Churches are closed. Some small businesses have closed. Grocery stores have reduced hours of operations. Concerts, sporting events, performances are canceled. Even at the neighborhood level, we are all giving each other a 6 feet berth on the sidewalk. The changes came very quickly, and it's hard to believe how different it was just a week ago.

We are taking the social distancing seriously, and most of the people around us seem to be doing the same. My biggest concern is not really for my immediate family, but for the risk that my stick-it-in-my-mouth, handwashing-adverse kids pose to older and more vulnerable people. I'd like to tell you that I've managed to make my kids Models of Hygienic Discipline, but the would be An Outright Lie.

When school announced it was closing, there was one last day of school before the break was to begin. Mattais told me he was glad to go to school, because it made it seem like everything was normal. (That's a huge credit to his teachers, who have obviously done an awesome job maintaining a calm environment in the classrooms!) We talked a lot about how canceling school was something that we are doing for other people, not for ourselves. Noah and Mattias seem to find it comforting to know that this is how they can help other people. Trixie is still a little young to really get it; in fact, she keeps forgetting that she won't be back in school tomorrow!

Both Fritz and I are now (indefinitely) working from home. The kiddos are officially on extended spring break until April 7th. I'm mentally preparing myself for the idea that they may be off for the rest of the school year. I'm devouring articles with projections of infection rate. I realize the data is almost impossible to use for prediction because our testing is so spotty, but my take away from what I'm reading is that infection rates will climb for the next 2-3 week – and then, with 2-3 weeks of climbing numbers – will we really be ready to jump back into school? I think not.

Last night, I lost myself in a movie we were watching with the kids. When it was over, I had the strange jolt not that I was returning to normal life, but rather that I was returning to a new reality as foreign to me as the movie.

One thing that is clear after a mere two days at home is that we eat SO MUCH FOOD. I'm thinking a lot about home delivery of groceries. We've never done this; and I guess now is a good time to start. Or maybe it's a horrible time to start because everyone else will be starting, too. I don't know. When I read about grocery stores limiting the number of patrons at one time, and people standing in lines, I think delivery sounds like the way to go, although I know delivery is experiencing its own problems and shortages. I'm thinking Amazon Fresh – their business model is already set up, their product is coming from a warehouse, not a store (less opportunity for contagion). It's not relying on an internet gig economy worker (although I'm thinking Amazon has only a slightly better reputation.) Do you use delivery? Is it working for you? 

Anecdotally

So, on Saturday, we did that thing where we stocked the pantry in preparation for possible quarantines.

The kids are thrilled. They have already managed to eat half the granola bars that I bought as a quarantine treat. Forget stocking the pantry, I need to be locking the pantry.

***

My mother-in-law tells us two stories from Germany. One: The government is bracing for a a large outbreak in the next two weeks as a large number of Germans visited Italy for Carnival. Two: her tenants are heading to Spain on vacation. "Aren't you worried about the coronavirus?" she asked. "Well," they answered, "if we get sick in Germany or get sick in Spain makes no difference. We shouldn't let that keep us from enjoying our vacation."

***

On Democratic primary candidates: comparing Bloomberg's preparedness speech to Warren's preparedness speech from almost the same time on Saturday night is revealing. I'm really tired of how many politician have nothing substantive to say. Why are you talking if your words don't have new information? This is a particular problem among the male population.

Remember those early years of elementary school when some kids would raise their hands to answer questions when THEY HAD NO IDEA WHAT THE ANSWER WAS? It was almost always the boys doing this. Obviously, some still do this. Except at ages 73, 77, 78,  we call them politicians and act like this behavior is not just acceptable, but exemplifies LEADERSHIP. It's bull$hit.

***

I voted for Warren. We need to get serious about moving this country forward in a principled and strategic way.

***

Also: did you know that cognitive flexibility decreases with age? Cognitive flexibility allows us to learn and solve problems. Do you think the average age of our elected government officials might have something to do with our governmental disfunction? What do you think: is there any hope it will get better?

BTW, please update your blog...

I was born in Iowa and the majority of my large extended family still lives in Iowa. When I was 7 years old, my family moved to Massachusetts. My cousins, young and unfiltered, and still in Iowa, kept me updated on how my perceptions of Iowa should have changed.

"You think we are all dumb hicks, chewing on hay and wearing straw hats."

I did? That's what I thought?

"But that's okay," my 11 year old cousin would add. "Because we think you are snobby Mayflower pilgrims."

I have never been ashamed of my Iowa roots. And I have never thought of my cousins as hicks. In fact, I always felt like they were far more stylish and knowledgeable than me. When their 4H projects won awards and they suddenly owned a week's worth of Z. Cavariccis, I was pretty firmly convinced that I was missing out.

I should clarify my earlier statement. I was never ashamed of my Iowa roots until 2016, when Iowa went red in the national election. My uncle said, "You just don't understand how badly people want change."

In December 2016, I was still disappointed enough that I skipped sending out Christmas/New Years cards to my Midwest relatives. I skipped again in 2017 and 2018. In 2019, I sent some cards.

There's a lot of reasons I'm not blogging very much lately, and the political situation is certainly one of them. I'm so discouraged by what I see; I don't like to be political; and yet I'm so horrified  that I can't NOT say something when given access to a public forum. This is not a version of myself that I like, and it's not a place that I'm comfortable to be. I don't want to fight with anybody, actually. But I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW ANYONE'S VALUES HAVE SUNK SO LOW THAT THIS LEADERSHIP AND THEIR ACTIONS ARE ACCEPTABLE. THESE ARE NOT AMERICANS THAT I KNOW. Also: Iowa's caucus debacle is fresh in my mind, adding insult to injury.

Primary season, in general, frequently leaves me disappointed. I look for candidates who clearly articulate a VISION that I agree with. Then I want to know if that candidate can back it up. Its strange how little Vision we get during the primaries. Is that because we only have two parties and the candidates in the primaries are expected to adhere to the generally accepted party's Vision? In 2016, I liked Bernie Sanders because of his Vision. I think he's still got Vision. But after 4 years of watching him, I'm a little less convinced that he's got the support and the roadmaps he'll need to make his Vision happen. I like Elizabeth Warren's plans, but I worry that her Vision is basically to get rid of money in politics. It feels a little reactive, not proactive. I liked Pete Buttigieg a few months ago; lately I'm worried that his positions are more about crowd-pleasing and less about his Vision. I actually have no idea what his Vision is. And I have no idea if he can back it up...although I DO trust him to surround himself with really smart people - who will definitely have experience - but who may or may not support his undefined Vision. Amy Klobuchar got in that really great spiel about FDR and "I know you" at the New Hampshire debate. It was brilliant and Vision defining, we shall see if it continues and develops. One great spiel isn't enough yet for me to vote for her. I can't really take any of the other candidates seriously: not Biden (riding on Obama's coat tails, and otherwise with a track record that I find a little suspect), not Steyer (with no government experience), and not Bloomberg (although I very much appreciate Everytown and his humorous ads.)

After primary season, Visions seem to be more clearly articulated. Two major candidates make for more contrast and an easier decision about who to support. This primary season, which is looking like it will be long, is yet another unresolved and upsetting phase in the already disturbing spectacle of the last four years. I'm trying to be optimistic: the process will yield the best candidate! But I'm not so sure that's a reality that has played out in the past.

Summer Groove

The kids started summer vacation last week. It was a wobbly start, as is often the case. You know, it just takes time for everyone to get into the new groove of summer. The kids are used to a schedule, and without – or at least, with a much looser schedule – they seem a little lost. I have faith that they will figure it out; they always have in the past. In the meantime, the transition is shaky. They are constantly asking me about something or for something. It's pretty much an interruption every 2 minutes. It makes me miss having boring job in a dull, quiet office. Although, I didn't get to watch them do funny things like make this "neighborhood" complete with mailboxes, mullioned windows, and flower boxes when I was at a boing office job all day:

We've had some unseasonably cold temperatures here. Added together the kids' desire to SWIM (because it is summer, after all), several of us have ended up with colds. This week we are taking things very easy. Easy means watching television. But Easy gives me a chance to get caught up on some lingering work projects. I've been hesitant about taking on too many projects this summer, since we no longer have an au pair and there aren't many camps on the schedule. I guess my new reality as self-employed will be this: I will worry about having work, I will be worried about not having work.

We are doing a fair amount of travel this summer. I'm looking forward to being somewhere else for an extended period. I've done a lot of two-and-three days trips in the last couple of years. But it will be nice to be away for longer. We also have some guests coming, including Fritz's mom, who will stay for two weeks.

I'm also forcing myself back into a regular exercise schedule; it's been lacking from my life for essentially 12 years now. I think my 2 year stint as an office worker didn't help at all. As a stay-at-home parent, one spends more time doing physical activity. Sitting in an office was really a radical change. Working at home for the past 3 months has been a welcome blend of intellectual work and physical activity, but I'm still happy to be getting an official hour-long workout each day. I think this change is really possible – finally! – because the kids are old enough that they sleep through the nights and sleep-in in the morning. That only took 12 years... Oh! AND I'm no longer scrambling to make it to an office by 8 am.

Reset

I really miss coming here to blog – lately, there's only, like, 2 people still reading, so even though blogging is cathartic, it is also hard to motivate myself to do it.

The farther behind I get in updating on all of life's blog-worthy events, the more difficult it is to just lightly jump back in.

This month, one of my good friends – a mentor, like-a-big brother – committed suicide. That has been hard. You know all the intellectual stuff where you say that there is nothing you could have done, he was suffering from depression (and had been for a long time), it was a disease, etc. But even if you know this intellectually, you STILL think all those thoughts and wrestle with your own part in the end.

My part in his last two years is that we had become closer than previously. We spent a lot of time talking about work and architecture - and in retrospect, maybe I was just trying to distract him from telling me one more time about how depressed he felt, or how he was thinking about killing himself, or reading the most recent article about the best new depression/bipolar drug/treatment/therapy. All the depression talk: it was a lot. It began to normalize. Yes, yes, you are feeling depressed. How about this house? Do you like it? Good design? Nice detailing? Or ugly? Whattayathink?

I don't have answers. His family wanted answers from me, because we were close in the last few months. What was it? What was the thing that did this? I couldn't answer them, standing in his living room, wearing the stick-on mustache that his five year old son gave me before the funeral. But the thing was something: it was mental illness; it was depression. The thing, actually, felt a lot like 5 years ago when my uncle died of Lymphoma. It marched onward, without regard to all the various interventions. It was relentless. The disease became a part of life so integrated in the everyday that it was hard to know what was the disease and what was the person.

There's no neat, tidy package to wrap up my feelings or the feelings of his other friends and his family or even society's feelings. Life's so messy sometimes – which is all the more reason to step back and really think about how to live our life as thoughtfully as possible.That is where I'm left: Am I doing right by others? Am I the me I should be? How can I appreciate and prioritize who I am and where I am?

Better

We have had some drama lately with our au pair. The basic story is that she's underage and left an open bottle of alcohol in the mudroom next to the car keys (the car keys which she had been using to drive our car). Deep sigh here, because just writing this down it feels so obvious that this is the the type of violation that should not be tolerated for one minute. But then, there are considerations for us that lessen her crime in our eyes: 1) we haven't had a lot of problems with her being irresponsible otherwise, 2) she's almost 20, 3) she's from a country where it is legal to drink at age 18; 4) we, ourselves, do not feel so strongly about 21 being some magically appropriate drinking age - ie, we think the US law is sort of nonsense.

On the other hand, we're talking about an open alcohol bottle that was 95% likely in the car of an underage person driving our car. And she is given responsibility to take care of our children and as much as she claims to be "completely responsible" for the outcomes of her own actions... how can she be? That's one of those fallacies of her youthfulness - she thinks she CAN be responsible for any outcomes, but really, life isn't like that, especially if something horrible like an accident with injuries (or worse) were to result from her actions.

SO, really, how do we feel about THAT? Not good. She's has refused to talk to us about it, and really, the refusal to talk about it was the most upsetting part (for me). We finally called in the area director to act as mediator.

Things have been seriously going downhill since then, we seem unable to get on the same page. One week it's our fault ("our" meaning the parents), the next week the problem is the kids. The week after that, she's just feeling sad/sick for reasons not related to us. This week she told us she wants to rematch with another family. I tried to talk her out of it, because I really feel like there's some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy going on, and if she would just commit. But what do I know? I'm also not going to make her stay with us if she's so miserable.

And this, I do believe, will conclude our experiment in hosting au pairs. Such as shame, because I do feel that the right au pair can be so great. But obviously, there's a lot of flakiness out there among young adults. Our current-almost-gone au pair tells me that she is so nervous about finding a new family that she is waking up at night and throwing up.

Sheesh. We must be a pretty horrible host family for her to endure such a situation. I'm annoyed - we ARE inconvenienced by her leaving, but we ARE NOT desperate for her to stay. We are all making an effort to be NOT vindictive and as helpful as possible to her in this transition period. But I'm not going to lie, I'm doing a bit of wound-licking and eye rolling behind closed doors.

In the end, I don't have anything to prove here. And the most important thing is that people are healthy and happy and safe. My working full-time definitely took some toll on the kids; now that I'm working from home with a more flexible schedule, I'm going to spend more time with the kids. Which is good. Better than an au pair.

Fences are for climbing

This past month, I opened my own architecture firm and said goodbye to being someone else's full-time employee. A number of stars aligned, such that it seemed like the right move to make and the right time. But I won't lie: I'm scared about doing this, scared about bunking conventional wisdom, scared about the amount of risk involved.

One of the things I keep telling myself, in the back of my mind – or right up front and center on my blog – is that for most of life, I've been pretty good about staying in the lines and doing things the way that everyone else says to do them. Sometimes we have to break the rules and defy convention to venture into new territory. So, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that figuratively climbing over the fence was the right thing to do (this time around). It feels exposed. It feels a bit lonely. It's also an exhilarating and hopeful feeling. And, if you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you are probably very tired of reading about me wanting my own firm, but taking no action in that direction.

Well. Here we go. Hold on.

She sighs deeply and plots her departure...

Two months ago, one of my bosses asked me if I would like to become a project manager for the interiors department.

I was very reluctant for a number of reasons:
1. I don't know a lot about interiors.
2. I'm more interested in being an architect, not an interior designer.
3. I feel like I need a lot more experience, generally, before I become a manager. ( I think one needs to be able TO DO the work EFFECTIVELY that one is directing other people to do.)
4. There was a strong vibe that the offer was actually coming under duress. In other words, somebody told my boss to offer me this position, whereas my boss didn't really want me to be a manager.
5. I've noticed there's a trend to give people inflated titles, when they can't really do the job of the title which they are given because they lack experience and knowledge. I don't want to be one of those people. I want to be competent at one job before I move to another.

Rather than straight up rejecting the offer, I promised to think about it overnight.

I went home and told Fritz and he informed me that I was crazy not to take it. His basic premise was that I would do more harm by not taking the job than by taking it and doing poorly.

The very next day, one of the people in the interiors department quit. Which freed up money to hire a project manager from outside the company. Which is what my boss really wanted all along. My offer was immediately forgotten and a job search was started for a project manager.

I was mostly ambivalent. Perhaps I had dodged a bullet and it was all for the best.

So then, a project manager was hired - and she has significantly less experience and less ability and less knowledge than me. She IS the person that my boss wanted to hire, for whatever it's worth. But in the meantime, we are suffering from her lack of knowledge, her inability to actually produce drawings, and her inexperience of ever being a manager before. I'm explaining things to her like the difference between a structural engineer and civil engineer – when, come to find out – what she really need to do is find a plumber to locate the source of a leak in an existing building. I bet some of you reading this – who have no experience in architecture or interior design –ALREADY knew that a plumber fixes leaks, not an engineer. But she didn't: she wanted to know if leaks were the job of a civil or structural engineer. It's painful, PAINFUL, I tell you.

Additionally, I find our personalities are conflicting....which is unusual for me...I get along with most people, but it does happen every now and then. In case you are wondering, the personality that conflicts with me has these trademarks: slow talker, yet very chatty and indirect in their approach. If a woman, then this woman tends to spend a lot of time and money on personal grooming, exercise and clothes. She's likely to speak quite nostalgically about children. For reasons that may or may not be fair, I read all of these characteristics as inauthentic, superficial, intellectually vapid and I have a difficult time not feeling frustrated by them. Yesterday, I started making a list of all the things that are changing in the office because of her influence.

1. Whispering. Not always, but about half the time she goes over to someone's desk and asks a question and instead of asking in a normal voice, she whispers. It may be she's trying to be considerate to those of us working. Or it may be she doesn't want others to hear. I don't know, but it FEELS sneaky and underhanded. Ick.

2. Meetings during meetings. An office wide meeting is occurring and someone - unannounced and unscheduled - shows up at the front door of the office. The new project manager will leave the occurring meeting and go chat with the new arrival. Not just for a minute or two. She'll go have a regular old meeting during the meeting, for 10 to 15 minutes, with whoever just happened to show up at the same time. I don't know: call me crazy, but I think it shows a lack of respect for co-workers.

3. Clothing compliments. We are now, apparently, the type of office where we compliment each other everyday on our wardrobes. Well, not me, because I'm just not into that. But other people are (now). Maybe for some people, this is a bonding exercise. But to me, it feels like distraction from the reason I'm at work. I'm there to work - do architecture. I'm happy to talk with you about a cool building or an awesome new flooring material. But I don't really want to talk about my shoes or my coat or where I got them. (I save that for this blog!) And because the instigator of this new chitchat is my superior, I certainly DO feel like I'm constantly being judged and evaluated on some criteria that has nothing to do with WHY I'm at work.

4. Cuteness and Sweetness. Look, I'm pretty sure this has no business being the criteria for hiring anyone, but these are the types of descriptors being thrown around my office these days after interviewees leave. Argh.

Anyway. Maybe I should have taken her job. As the situation went, I don't think I had the chance to, but whatever. I will say, between the lack of knowledge and the new office dynamic, this project manager is an unwelcome twist on an already strained system.

Seque

This weekend, I'm doing some much needed distraction: that is, I'm obsessing over small things that don't truly matter rather than thinking about bigger issues. I used to joke with people that I needed time to just sit and stare at the wall - (um, kind of like mediation) - but now, I don't really stare at the wall, so much as take photos of stuff with my phone. It is still very zen-like.

This is one of those origami (Moravian) stars sitting on a copper tray that used to belong to Fritz's grandmother. Something about the way the paper and metal were contrasting each other was fascinating. Also - both materials look soft and hard at the same time. Neat.

In contrast to that image - the image below is all the same material. This is a wavy dimensional tile just installed in one of my work projects. It's all white - so the pattern you are seeing below is actually from shadows. There's a chipped bit in there - that's why I was taking the photo. But overall, I was struck by just how graphic and contrast-y it is - considering that the tile is one single color.

These are the one single shoe that I could wear all the time. My parents got this particular pair for me for Christmas. But it is the third time that they have bought (almost the exact) same shoe for me. I started wearing a shoe like this around 2002, and I haven't stopped. Every three years (or so) I stick them my Christmas list. The good news is that I will truly squeeze every penny of value out of these shoes.

At our house, we are hoping to optimize value by expanding upon Noah's cooking repertoire. This is a meal that NOAH made. That's right, the 11 year old made this. Can you believe it? It's a Jamie Oliver chicken recipe. Noah had to stuff herbs and butter under the skin of the chicken (Ew) and when he finished doing that, he still wanted to make the homemade pasta on the left of the photo. AMAZING.

Our refinished dining table is holding up pretty well, but our not-refinished dining chairs were falling apart. Since I can't seem to squeeze refinishing into my schedule (for 6 years now), we sucked it up bought these Ikea chairs. I was very much liking these chairs back in 2013, but couldn't bring myself to buy them (or their even nicer cousin, the Mantis Chair). And guess what? The Ikea ones were discontinued, so then I really couldn't buy them. Until one day I luckily found SIX on Craigslist and could then justify the (second-hand) cost.

Rather than going second-hand, we got a new rug in the living room.  Well, actually, my brother got it for me. (Thank you!) Worried a bit that it was too matchy-matchy with my mother-in-law's artwork hanging on the wall, but I think it's good. Our living room gets a lot of kid-play, so I'm hoping it will hide the kid's dirt as well.

It's probably time for me to stop ignoring the mess and do something a little more productive. Here's to a perfect balance or productivity and distraction on your weekend.

Visions of Success

I've had way too many commitments going on lately: the holiday stuff, the work stuff, the re-new my architectural license stuff, volunteer scout stuff, volunteer in the neighborhood stuff, the household visitor stuff, and the kids-are-not-in-school stuff. I've also been working on some side projects – an architecture project to be more precise – that I hoped would turn into an opportunity to leave my full-time job and venture out on my own.

It didn't pan out.

Better to find out now than later. Still... working on it was about 25 hours of work that I didn't really need on my plate this month.

As a result of this experience, I find myself thinking a lot lately about how I define success in my professional life. I want to be intellectually challenged, but not overrun by hours of work at someone else's whim. (I REALLY don't want to work for a firm that double and triple books my time.) I'd also much rather have flexibility than reliability. I'd prefer a variety of work to redundant work. I'd prefer clever, respectful co-workers over funny, dramatic, or lone wolf-types.

I'd like to choose my own poison, rather than be spoon fed it.

I would like to work on a solid computer system, because there is nothing more annoying (to me) than a slow/under-powered computer backing up to a server over the internet. I would like to work with a solid software packages that are optimally utilized, because lacking software or inadequate utilization of computer software is close second for frustration. When the computer works, when the software is available and appropriately utilized, working on my computer is almost zen-like. I'm in Flow, I'm in the Zone, I'm so happy! Sitting in front of my glowing monitor, all the chaos of my household life and three-kids-two-cats-one-au-pair melts away and I have in my computer a perfect, abstract model of a building under my control. Again: I'm so happy in this state! But when the computer stops working, or the saving takes a long time, or the internet slows down my speed, or the software isn't available: I'm miserable! I'm miserable when I don't have tools that I need to control the work that I am doing.

I'd like to hold myself and those around me to a high moral standard. It's deeply disappointing to see people in power who are manipulative, abusive, rude, or disrespectful. I don't want to support this type of person as an employee, employer, or client. I want the ability to walk away from people like this. I want to vote with my feet.

I've said (over and over and over again) that my goal is to have my own firm. Still is. It needn't be big. It can be just me and just a few projects. What is clearly not my dream, or not my version of success, is to work for a big firm and be a cog in the wheels. Is that anyone's dream? Probably not: but I do think there are a lot of people out there who would choose the security of a corporate type job to risk of being independent. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just not for me.

Additionally: I can't help thinking that the state of comfortably employed as being the truly risky matter. As an architect, I spend time watching the winds of the economy. The construction industry is always the first to fall and the last to rise when the economy tanks. I've been an architect through one recession and one downturn, so I don't take their impact lightly. I wonder if it might be easier to support yourself as a sole proprietor, with little projects, in a recession? I don't know - but I do know that overhead is a significant part of architectural costs. There's also the fact that as an employee, you are ultimately dependent on a very few people's evaluation of you. Do they think you are working hard enough? Are you profitable enough for the company? How are you in comparison to the person sitting next to you? These questions will maintain or end your employment. Where as, if you work for yourself, you are likely to have a much larger pool of opinions to draw upon.

I try to paint this picture of myself – this picture of where I want to be – so that when opportunities arise to be more independent, I can pursue them. I'll get there; I know I will. It just takes time.

Meta

Last week I decided to collect all my blogging back on this blog. There wasn't a lot to be moved, but it's all here now and I feel pretty good about that. I filed the entries under the dates that they originally appeared on my other blog: 10 posts from between March 2018 and October 2018. The lesson learned it that it was not a good period of my life when I felt like I had to segment myself (including my blogging self) into pieces. If I find myself doing that again, it's a warning sign.

Work continues to be pretty intense and stressful, but the arrival of our new au pair has helped greatly to balance things out around the house. She is really doing an amazing job with the kids, and an amazing job keeping the household together. I thought that MAYBE with the kids in school full days, MAYBE it wouldn't be necessary to host an pair. But my new theory is that as long as Fritz and I continue to work full time jobs outside the home; and as long as we continue to have no helping family nearby, we will continue to host an au pair.

Long term, I still have the same goal that I've had for years and years: my own architecture firm. Going back to work after my career break confirmed it. Working in two very different offices since I've returned reaffirms it. I was telling my very good friend and mentor about this the other day: I know I need to have my own architecture firm IN MY BONES. At the same time, I'm cautious, careful, and calculating: because I ALSO know that I need to learn more and prep more before I'm ready.  I'm open to possibilities; but I'm not foolish. I'm also really, really lucky to be at my current job - with all the growth and responsibility and potential that I've been given. It's full of wonderful (albeit stressful) opportunities. I just need to make sure I keep my eye on the long term goal and strategically learn what I need for the next steps.

Dreams

When we said goodbye to our au pair, the kids were sad. The cats were sad. I was sad. The house was sad. (It immediately fell into messy chaos.) Our new au pair arrives next week. In the meantime, Fritz and I are tag teaming the day, with Fritz working very early hours and me working later hours; thus, I drop the kids off in the morning and Fritz picks the kids up after school in the afternoon. There's really nothing else to do – no other way to do it – and the only thing I can say, is that it is better than last year, when we did the same schedule, except Trixie was in school for even fewer hours.

I am so tired, internet. Work is intense; and sadly, there's a fair amount of stress for Fritz at work as well. The kids are okay, considering that they just started a new school year and lost their much loved au pair. Which is really me saying that the kids are not-so-okay. I don't know, I don't know. We might be well on our way to becoming some of those people who decide to make a radical life change: you know, the ones who sell everything and live in a camper? Or join a cult and move to a remote island in the South Pacific? Or quit their jobs and open a coffee shop on their credit cards? Or something. Right. At work, we had an informational session on our 401ks and all I could think about was how far away from here would that money get me?

Short term I cope with the stress by day dreaming on my commute about an alternative life, in a parallel universe. Even this feels a little indulgent. Today, I scolded myself for using my commute in such an irresponsible way. I should be thinking about work! Or Noah's mysterious disappearing homework! Or planning the weekend! Not daydreaming about traveling.

Then I thought maybe I could convince my subconscious to just incorporate my daydreams with my regular night dreams. Have you ever tried to control what dreams you are having? It doesn't really work for me. At least, not yet.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I dated a senior. He eventually went away to college, and, of course, we broke up, and I thought I would never see him again. My life was continuing more or less that way; ie, I never saw him. And I was so determined NOT to make myself a pest, NOT to TRY to see him, even though I really wanted to see him. So finally, months after our break up, I decided that maybe I could see him in my dreams.

I tried to bargain a bit with the universe, hoping that the universe would let me have dreams about him. Then, I started having dreams where I almost saw him... but not quite! He was there, he was close, but as soon as I caught a glimpse of him, he would disappear. Or I would open my mouth to speak to him, but then I couldn’t actually see him. This went on for years, and it was maddening, although it was just a series of dreams! In fact, every now and then - 25 odd years later, thousands of miles away from high school, he still occasionally haunts my dreams as a person present, but unseen. The frustration of dreaming about a person who you want to see, but never can; that was annoying! Continuing to dream about a person who you never really see, even when you no longer want to – I guess now he's just a symbol of unfulfilled wishes – that's just obnoxious. And it was dumb to originally think I could somehow "dream" resolution.

Which brings me back to the present, where I simultaneously feel that 1) I should be not be daydreaming and 2) night dreaming isn't an alternative and 3) maybe I should just stop the dreaming altogether and make it reality.