Tag Archives: me me me

Alone Time

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Jess • 4 Comments

When was the last time you had real alone time? Not just time when the kids are sleeping and you’re grabbing a couple hours to yourself. Not just a solo shopping trip. I’m talking real alone time. Over 24 hours of solitude. 

This weekend is my first in the sublet E and I are splitting during the course of our separation. The kids stay at home and we switch time with them. I have them from Monday morning until Friday evening and then spend my weekend in the sublet. It is small, furnished, with everything I need. (Except a coffee maker.) It’s in one of Boston’s many college neighborhoods, which is actually nice because there’s a decent amount of hustle and bustle on the street and I’m close to the T.

But it’s the alone time that’s so strange. I’ve been wanting it and wishing for it for ages, it seems. Now that it’s here I realize how long it’s been since I was really alone. E and I have lived together for over 6 years. It’s just different when you’re alone in a space you occupy with someone else. 

Now I find myself picking up the same habits I used to have when I lived alone. I’ve forgotten what it’s like and what you do to punctuate the rhythms of the day.

I narrate my life in my head. I forgot I did that. There’s rarely any room for an inner voice in my life now, it’s loud and busy. But here there is so much silence, even in busy shops and restaurants and trains, that I find that internal narration picking back up. I think it’s one of the reasons I always fancied myself a writer, walking by a flower I can’t just think, I am walking by a flower. Instead I think of how I would describe the flower if I was writing an essay or memoir or narrative of my day. It’s now a tulip, just past its peak, with the petals starting to fall outwards and it leads to some kind of meditation on how tulips are all potential, how their value is all before they really bloom, etc. etc. etc.

I people-watch. I wasn’t on Twitter last time I was single, it’s lovely to have some place to point out the girl I see on the T wearing a top with a sheer back who is wearing a rather dingy white bra underneath and surely didn’t have a friend okay her outfit because she looks sad from the back with the hooks of her bra visible. Also the girl in white lace formal shorts this morning. Because those just shouldn’t exist. And you have to admit that in 10 years we will all look back at Toms shoes and wonder why everyone wanted something so ugly.

Because it is Boston, though it is a student-heavy neighborhood it isn’t all students. Grad students and young couples are here. There’s a decent number of old people. And now and then I see moms who look like they’ve come straight out of suburbia, I assume they’re trickling down from the nice houses up the hill.

I wonder what people think when they see me. Do I blend in here? I feel like the shape of my body tells my story, the small but obvious swell of my tummy tells the world I’ve had children recently. There is still a ring on my finger. But I walk alone without any family around me to give me context. Do I still blend in as a student the way I used to when I taught on campuses? I doubt it. At least not the current version of the female student, who seems to look put together even when she’s in her gym clothes. Lululemon yoga pants and skinny jeans everywhere. Sunglasses. Long sleek ponytails. I ventured out this morning in my pajama pants and a hoodie and feel like I stick out like a sore thumb. In my day this was acceptable morning-coffee-run wear, I’m not sure if things have changed or if it’s a Northeastern thing or what. 

At first I wondered how I would squeeze in any relaxation. I still have Graham’s soccer practice on Saturday, which will take up more than a couple hours, including travel time. I have lots of blog work to do. (SELF-PIMP ALERT my new site Crayons & Coupons is now live and I hope to put a lot of my products-that-are-cool-and-stuff-that-is-on-sale info there to keep my blog a little more me.) Sunday I have an afternoon and an evening event. It would be a packed weekend, right?

But it isn’t. The bed is hard and I can’t seem to sleep past 8. This morning (I’m writing this on Sunday) I woke up at 6:30 and just stayed in bed until after 8 because I refused to get up. When there’s no distractions to worry about it takes me a shockingly short amount of time to get ready. When there’s nothing to clean, no laundry to fold, no meals to prepare, the day is just empty. After I got back from soccer I had hours upon hours to fill. 

Time moves more slowly when you’re by yourself. 

There is only so much reading, so much work you can do on your computer, so many jaunts out for a cup of coffee before you find yourself confronted with hours to fill and nothing to fill them with. 

I’m sure I’ll adjust. In a lot of ways I’m happy with the solitude. I don’t necessarily want to fill it with lunches and dinners and drinks and nights out and brunches and shopping and whatever. I want to find a balance and I’ll definitely be working on it. 

The best part of the weekend, though, has been seeing the kids for that hour on Saturday. Why are they so much more beautiful and sweet and pleasant when you get them for a short, specific period of time? Even if you just saw them less than a day ago? 

Tomorrow I go back to my soft bed and my loud life for 4 and a half days. I don’t know how re-entry will feel. I’m just figuring this out as I go.

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Finding Joy on Mother’s Day

Posted on May 12, 2013 by Jess • 6 Comments

It’s hard to write on Mother’s Day. Every year this holiday feels more fraught for me. While I know there are so many people out there enjoying picture perfect days, I can’t help thinking about all the emotions it drags up.

There are people who no longer have their mothers, people who are separated from their mothers by long distances, people who have mothers but have had to cut ties with them because of abuse or neglect or just plain hurtfulness, people who want to be mothers but aren’t, people who were mothers but aren’t anymore, people who are mothers but don’t have a partner to celebrate them. It just seems that every year more and more people I know fall into these categories.

And then there are those of us who feel like maybe we aren’t mother enough.

It’s that last thing I was thinking about when I wrote my essay for Listen To Your Mother. I found that no matter how I tried I couldn’t write a good essay about myself. Instead I came back to my mom, the person who exemplified motherhood for me. I have big shoes to fill, I’ll probably never fill them, but that’s okay.

While I know this can be a tough holiday, I wanted to send something positive into the universe today so I’m posting my essay and I hope you enjoy it. When the video is up I’ll be sure to post that as well.

***************

I am the oldest of four children. When it came time to start my own family, I wanted four children, too.

A year after my son was born, I amended that to three children.

And now that my daughter is here I’m pushing my husband to stop at two.

The fact that I ever wanted four children is a compliment to my Mom. I wanted four because she did it and she made it look easy.

Despite having all of us underfoot, my Mom always had her make-up perfectly done, she was always impeccably dressed, she always had a fantastic dinner prepared, she always had the house clean, and she always had us signed up for activities like ice skating or swim team. That’s right, my Mother is SuperMom.

As for me, I have only two children. One of them is at school five days a week. The other requires about as much supervision as a hamster. And yet I rarely put makeup on, I usually wear pajamas or yoga pants, I consider it a miracle if I have dinner made, the house is basically never clean and my kids are lucky if we get to playgroup once a month.

Because my mom so perfect, it’s not surprising that from a young age she worked hard to nurture my talents and abilities and teach me to work hard, get good grades and find places where I excel. One of those talents was music.

Before I go on, let me tell you a secret about my mom. Now that I’ve told you how great she is, I hope she’ll forgive me for sharing that she does have a flaw: my mom is tonedeaf. She can’t carry a tune. At all.

And yet through the magic of genetics, my siblings and I all inherited our father’s musical gifts. Though she can’t actually tell if we are on pitch, she always had confidence in us and was our #1 supporter and biggest fan. Not that it always worked out in our favor.

Supporting us meant not just the benefits of piano and violin and voice lessons but checking out every single musical and opera in the library’s video collection. It meant I spent hours as a young child listening to tapes telling the life stories of the great composers and playing their music. She was determined to give us a real musical education.

She was also determined to show the world what we could do. That’s where the videos came from. I’m hoping that in my lifetime not one of those suckers gets digitized and uploaded.

Imagine the 4 of us, towheaded and smiling, standing on the stairs, the three girls wearing matching Christmas jumpers and a festive sweater for my only brother, the youngest. The girls have our hair curled from having spent the night with it rolled up in our old baby socks. We sing together, we break into solos and duets. There are plodding but earnest attempts from those of us who play instruments. There are fake smiles and cheesy introductions. It’s the kind of effort only an elderly relative could enjoy.

But outside of these forced performances I loved music. When I was in high school I set my ambitions high. I had my heart set on being the best soprano in the school. I wanted to have the lead role in the school musical. I watched the girls ahead of me and imagined I would someday fill their shoes though I had no idea how I would do it.

Left to my own devices these dreams might have stayed dreams. Sure, I would’ve slowly climbed the ladder and after paying my dues I’d be rewarded my senior year just like everybody else. But what my mother lacks in musical talent she makes up for in showmanship and she saw the same possibilities that I did.

She told me I had a face for the stage. At the time I took this as a high compliment, though it strikes me now that it could be interpreted to mean one looks better far away than one does up close. She wanted me to audition for the role of Mabel in Pirates of Penzance. The role was destined for a senior girl, the current ruling soprano of the school and no one questioned the outcome, including me. A week before auditions I didn’t even know I was capable of singing those cascading high notes. I’d considered nothing more than the chorus. When Mom told me I could be Mabel (which she still adorably pronounces “May-bell”) I doubted her. After all, she had no ear for music. She didn’t know how difficult it was. She couldn’t understand how unqualified I was for one of the most difficult parts to sing in all of musical theater. But my Mom is a force of nature and, after all, I had to sing something.

So I learned the song. I practiced. And since she couldn’t help me with the singing, she helped me do one of the things she does so well: put on a good show.

I didn’t beat out that senior girl for the part. But I did get double-cast with her, surprising everyone, including myself.

There are videos of this, too, my great performance. Frozen in time for all to see: there I am, doing exactly what I wanted to do. How often does that happen? How many of these wishes ever get granted? That video tape is at my parents’ house. In it, I see myself, ringlets and braces and awkwardness and confidence, and it makes me happy to see myself doing what I wanted so badly to do.

My Mom knew I had Mabel in me, she knew it wasn’t a fluke. All my life she’s seen things in me I haven’t been able to see in myself.

I enjoy knowing that even now when we see each other and I have gained weight and wear glasses and look utterly frazzled verging on unkempt, that my Mom still sees May-bell in me. And because of that, I do, too.

 
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Getting My Confidence Back

Posted on May 1, 2013 by Jess • 2 Comments

I find it easy to be confident most of the time. I’m one of those self-aware types who likes to know my strengths and my weaknesses and act accordingly. I know what I’m good at. I tend to have a good idea of where I stand in relation to other people. 

But this isn’t always true. When it came to auditioning for Listen to Your Mother I felt unsure about my piece. I had to send it to other people to read to make sure it was a good enough essay. Once I had positive feedback, though, I fell back into my natural confidence. I can stand in front of people and talk, it is one of my talents. 

So I went to my audition determined to rock it. I left my audition determined I’d rocked it. I got accepted and was pleased at how well I’d rocked it.

Everything changed when I went to the first rehearsal. I only knew one other person there (Lexi) and I knew her piece was amazing. But still. I’d rock it. I was awesome. And I saw that I’d been assigned the last slot in the program so this was surely validation of my awesomeness.

Then the other women started to read. 13 of them went before me. And with each minute that passed, I kept thinking, “What am I doing here?” 

This is not a thought I normally have.

I didn’t sit in class that first day of law school thinking, What am I doing here? I was overwhelmed and kind of lost but mostly excited and enthusiastic to take it all on and learn.

I was nervous before I took cases to trial but the moment I got to stand up and speak and ask questions and argue my case I felt at ease and confident that I’d do my best for my clients.

I’m not sure exactly why I felt so out of my depth, but I did. Surely they would realize I was an impostor, that I didn’t belong. I read… and they all smiled and clapped and gushed and yet I still didn’t feel quite comfortable.

I’ve thought about this a lot. My hypothesis is that personal essays are hard to judge, especially ones about family or motherhood. You have your own emotional response to it, your own connection to the material, your own memories attached to the stories you tell. For your audience it’s all a surprise and has its own connection to their own life and its own discovery of someone else’s experiences. I feel that when each of my fellow cast members tells her story and I can only assume they feel it with mine, too.

So what I’m saying is that Listen To Your Mother is on Saturday in Providence and it is going to be amazing. I’m looking forward to sitting through everyone’s essays again for a 3rd time. It’s amazing enough to make me want to be a better writer and a better mom. (Also: bring tissues. I will not be wearing mascara, after all, I’m last.) 

Please, please come. Here’s all the info. I hope I get to see you there. 

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Definitely Not a Separate Peace

Posted on April 29, 2013 by Jess • 31 Comments

Writing regularly about your life means that you discuss a lot of minutiae.

Today isn’t one of those days.

Today I get to tell you that Eric and I are separating. It’s not something I’m excited to do.

And I apologize to those close friends and family members who will find this out from the blog. I know it sucks. But forgive me for not wanting to get in touch with each of you individually to discuss really awful and sad news.

I could just keep up the fort here and pretend this isn’t happening. But I don’t want to do that. You probably don’t know this but last summer when the kids and I went to Texas, that was also a brief separation. And it was much harder since only a small handful of people were aware. Keeping up a good front was painful. 

So this time we have an agreement that I can write about it.

As you would probably guess, it sucks. It sucks especially because I don’t want it but this isn’t the kind of situation where I get to veto it.

It’s not like things have been hunky dory around here. I like to think that even the strongest couple would really struggle with what we’ve been hit with the past few years. We’ve had a good 4 years or so of one thing after another. Long hours, stress, depression, kids, lack of sleep, anxiety, autism, the works. It hasn’t been easy for a long time. But I actually thought things were better lately only to find out that I was wrong.

It’s been a really long time to live with someone but still feel alone. It’s been a lot to go through without feeling like you’re both on the same team. It’s taken everything I have to go for so long without affection and connection and love. I’ve been trying to just push through the best I can. Both of us have. And with so much on both of our shoulders we have different priorities and different ideas of how our lives should work. Sometimes it’s tiny stupid things and sometimes it’s this enormous chasm. 

Sometimes I just take this new change a day at a time and try to just live my life as best I can and be there for the kids. And sometimes I feel like my whole life is just crashing around me and I question every choice I’ve ever made since I met E.

Right now we have lots of things figured out. I stay with the kids from Sunday evening to Friday evening then pass the baton to Eric for the weekend. I found a very small (but still sadly expensive) sublet for a couple months. We’ve talked about counseling and I’m hoping we can start soon. 

I am trying to look on the bright side. Weekends without the kids. (Though there will still be Saturday morning soccer.) A bed to myself. Weekdays won’t be much change since I almost always do dinner and bedtime by myself anyway. 

But despite a few perks it’s hard to have everything up in the air. I worry that anything good that happens over the next few months will just be a sign to him that we’re better off apart. I wonder how we can make progress when we hardly see each other. And then there’s all the things to worry about if it doesn’t work.

My biggest concern, though, is about being able to reach out. I am fortunate to have an incredible, supportive community. I know people from many different walks of life. I know people on their 2nd marriages. I know people who have worked their way through terrible times in their marriages only to find themselves even stronger than before. I have these people for help and advice. But I don’t know that E has any of that. 

I won’t be able to tell his story here, obviously. But at least I can tell mine. Hopefully there are other people out there who understand or take a little comfort knowing they’re not alone. I feel a little better writing it, even if I still have trouble talking about it. 

The blog is not going to turn into all-separation-all-the-time because that’s not how life works. I have to find my footing. I have to figure out where things are heading for me. I have to keep myself going and keep the kids playing and keep everyone fed and tucked in at night. 

If you don’t know what to say to me, don’t worry. I don’t know what to say to you, either. It’s a lot easier talking to a disembodied group of readers than it is talking to a person who’s looking right at me when it comes to this stuff. 

I’m just going to try and do the best I can here and everywhere else. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know what I want to happen. I am scared of being alone and starting over. I am scared of staying in a relationship that makes my life worse instead of better. I am scared that I’m going to try everything and it won’t be enough. 

All I know right now is that he stopped calling me “Baby.” He’s calling me by my name, which he hasn’t done in nearly 7 years. It makes my stomach turn every time. 

It wasn’t until these last few years that I wanted to just run away from my life. Not forever, just to find space to breathe and close my eyes and just float away for a while. But unless someone can find me a long-term stand-in and a free sensory deprivation tank I’ll still just be right here. Trying to find me way in a strange life.

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What I Did Last Weekend

Posted on April 22, 2013 by Jess • 5 Comments

1. Survived Lockdown

Yes, we are actually IN Boston. Like Boston Boston. Not 30 minutes northeast of Boston. In the city limits. So yes, we were on lockdown. Also technically it wasn’t really lockdown, it wasn’t martial law being declared, it was a shelter-in-place request from the governor and the mayor. 

Oh, and it was the 7th day of spring break and I wasn’t allowed to take the kids outside. How did we survive? Snacks. Lots and lots of snacks. I *might* have given Tessa 4 packs of fruit snacks (all-natural very small packs of fruit snacks!) because Twitter told me it was okay. Also: Graham watched the entire series Justin Time on Netflix. 

No, we did not have any SWAT teams at our house because the action was all on the other end of town. 

In all seriousness, we were safe and relatively clam the whole day even if I was wound tighter than… something wound very tightly. It was one of those times when it’s a blessing that your kids are young and not really picking up on what’s happening around them. 

2. Made my International Media Debut

Through Twitter I was approached by the BBC to talk about being on lockdown. I was happy to chat with them though I made it clear that I was not too close to the action and that I had two small children in the house who were constantly demanding snacks. They were, oddly, okay with this. (They told me they like interviewing people “on the ground.” So there you have it, the BBC says having small children in your house is like living in a warzone.)

The show was World Have Your Say and we conducted all of it on my cell phone. No, I don’t have a clip. And honestly, I don’t think I was particularly interesting or awesome. It was notable that my interview was concluded because Graham started requesting hot dogs for dinner at the top of his lungs. 

If you are wondering if being interviewed by the BBC means I am now internationally famous, the answer is yes. I totally am.

3. Escaped Lockdown

So the hitch was that I was supposed to leave for Philadelphia midday on Friday with Charlene. And Kathy was supposed to come watch the kiddos. It became pretty apparent that neither of those things would be happening since Kathy had been up all night and had SWAT teams going through her house and her neighborhood. 

I spent the day trying to figure out what we would do and how the kids would be taken care of. We received many kind offers. But ultimately things worked out well when they told people to go home from work and Eric returned home. There was still some concern about leaving, but since people were going home from work and it was still light out I thought it was best to just go. So we did.

We’ve been fortunate this week to be test driving a RAV4 from Toyota and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I hopped in, picked up Charlene and we made a break for it.

What I Did Last Weekend

Pit stop in Connecticut

The drive was oddly peaceful. It was the least amount of traffic I’ve ever seen on the drive down the Eastern Seaboard. We didn’t listen to the radio or obsessively check the news. We just drove and chatted and enjoyed the calm.

Finally we heard the siege was over not long before we reached our destination and we all breathed a sigh of relief for our families, our friends and our city.

4. Acted Like I Knew What I Was Doing In Front of a Crowd of Awesome People

We were so anxious to get to Philly because we were speaking at Type A Advanced about setting up a business. This was my first time as a speaker at a conference. It said “Speaker” on my nametag, which meant that when people saw me they assumed I was important and ran in influential circles and that was why they’d never heard of me before. It also meant that people let me go ahead of them in the coffee line. (Well, not everyone. Just Kelly.) 

It was a huge honor to be there and all the intensity of the previous week meant that I wasn’t nervous about our session. Still, to be safe, I wore my lucky kraken. (And the same outfit I wore to Blissdom, hoping no one would notice.)

What I Did Last Weekend

If you ever find yourself speaking at a conference, I recommend the first session. Everyone is awake and you can kick your feet up for the rest of the day. (Actually I took crazy amounts of notes, but it was much more relaxing.)

I think it went pretty well and I really really hope that Charlene and I get to go back to Type A Parent Conference in Atlanta. (If you want to come, too, you totally should! I’m an affiliate with them and you can sign up for Type A in September here.)

5. Had a Basically Perfect Kid-Free Evening

After the sessions ended I headed out with some buddies to Talula’s Garden for dinner. It was, simply, magical. We were seated out on the patio and while it was chilly there were heat lamps that made it super cozy. The little garden-in-the-city setting was delightful. They served fantastic food and fantastic wine and this bunch of moms enjoyed themselves like only moms away from their kids without a care in the world can.

We shamelessly instagrammed our food (except for me, as soon as they put it down I just started eating, no time for pictures). We relaxed. We talked. We gushed over the deliciousness of our meal. I ordered a second glass of wine. 

You have to enjoy these moments when they come because they don’t come often.

6. Talked Books Like Only a True Obsessive Can

Bloggers may love to read but a lot of them don’t really “get” book reviewing that some of us do. We’re a small group and we live in a very different place website-wise. When you tell a blogger that you get books to review they wonder what’s in it for you. It’s just a book. You’re not getting paid. Advance copies have no value so you don’t get any income. It’s a foreign idea to many of them. But those of us who live that life get it. The books are the reward, the pay, the everything.

I was super lucky to run into some other book people at the Type A evening reception and it made my already-perfect night even better. After getting to talk to people like Rachée and Thien-Kim was awesome. People talk about going to blog conferences and being able to talk to people that get you, but this was like my little tiny niche that get me even more. 

I hope none of those ladies thought I was too crazy because I can give off a whiff of insanity when I talk books.

7. Talked Baby Gear in NYC

On our trip home on Sunday we made a stop in Manhattan for the Babypalooza put on by The Big Toy Book. We bloggers get a lot of event invites and it seems like whenever there are toys involved those of us with little kids have nothing to look at since everything’s geared at the 7-9 year old set. It was great to see actual baby and young child brands there and see some sweet products. There will be more to come this week, so I won’t go on at length. 

A highlight: meeting NYCJenny, a fellow Twitter-er and #zombiemom.

8. Returned home to a Clean House

If you’d seen the state of our house before I left you’d realize just how massive an undertaking this was. While I was home all day on Friday I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew I could’ve cleaned house but it didn’t calm me, it just made me more anxious. Things have been worse than usual since I left for Blissdom and I’ve been in a funk since then so I haven’t taken any major steps.

So some super big props to Eric for doing the impossible and showing me up as clearly the superior adult in our house. I am hoping it takes me at least a month before it all goes to hell again.

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Mother-funker

Posted on April 18, 2013 by Jess • 1 Comment

I am stuck. 

There are reasons for it. Some are obvious: it’s spring break, business keeps me busy, E is working a lot, blah blah blah. Maybe I should blame the fact that my only source of inspiration this week has been episodes of Thomas the Tank Engine. But there are other reasons, stuff I’m not quite ready to write about yet. At least, I assume these are all reasons. It could just be something that happens. I don’t know.

But I have several posts working with sponsors and reviewing stuff that need to go up soon but haven’t yet because I want to do my work well and I haven’t been able to. 

So instead of trying to craft a post around some kind of theme or event I’m just going to write about random stuff.

Deal with it.

Tessa has started sleeping through the night. FINALLY. After 14 months of her insanity and several months of pregnancy insomnia, my body doesn’t know what to do with itself. A couple nights this week she woke up for a drink in the middle of the night and I could not get back to sleep afterwards even though I used to do it multiple times a night just a few weeks ago. 

I have totally cheated when it comes to spring break. My last day is today. Tomorrow I’m going down to Philly with Charlene for Type A Advanced. I won’t get back until Sunday afternoon and Graham goes back to school on Monday. BAM. Killed it.

As today is my last day of spring break, we’re sitting around the house doing nothing. Graham is still in his pajamas. But hey, laundry is getting done. Dishes are getting washed. I got a shower. These are not guarantees, so I’m feeling okay.

I am the lamest cast member of Listen To Your Mother ever. I haven’t submitted anything that I’m supposed to. I haven’t made my final edit on my piece. I blame the funk. I took it upon myself to give myself some inspirational memes to help me get it together.

hey girl Mother funker

 

hey girl 2 Mother funker

 

But I have to admit, I prefer this one:

hey girl 3 Mother funker hey girl 3 Mother funker

 

That’s right. Instead of doing stuff, I make memes about how I’m not doing stuff. I have a problem.

Man, I could go for a nap.

Tonight I’m going to Taste of the Nation in cocktail party clothes to eat fantastic food and sample a wide variety of adult beverages. Hoping that and the Philly trip will be funk-breaking. 

 

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