The Other Voices...

When you live with someone, it doesn't take long, sometimes, to realize you now live your life under the microscope.  There is someone there to hear you (and, er, smell you) when you toot.  Someone who realizes that all you eat is cookies.  Someone who discovers that you have no idea how to use ______.  That you never ______.  That you always ______.  Things about yourself that you manage to hide from the world when you live alone. 

In really "fun" relationships, the other person will often share their observations... usually with a little derision.  And those observations stick with you.  If you're really lucky, you'll hear those voices long after you no longer share space with that person.  (Yes, that *was* sarcasm....)

Sometimes, even, these things end up being buttons.  Things that gnaw at your self esteem, things that are buttons that others might inadvertently trip over, things that create secretive behavior.

....

And this is the fun awkward point of the blog entry.  The point of the post where I know that if I don't admit it here that later I'm sure I'll be asked as to what prompted the post.  Well.. uh... there is a bag of cookies sitting beside me.  A half empty bag of cookies.  And well, to admit, that last week I actually put an empty bag of cookies back into the cupboard to make it seem as if I took an extra day to finish them off. 

....

It is funny, though, how those other voices stay in your head.  So that when your significant other comes home and asks, "__________" you suddenly hear a completely different question.  Suddenly that question is loaded.  And you find yourself already being defensive about a question that hasn't even been asked. 

It is important and yet impossible when you start a new relationship to leave the baggage at the door.  To give the person that you are with an opportunity to just be themselves.  To see them for them, and not for all the other people who might have come before them.  To enjoy the moment.  To not read more into "________" than a polite enquiry by someone who cares about you. 

And as I secretively nosh on a few more cookies before she comes home, I know that the voices I hear chastising me for eating so much sugar aren't hers.  They are the voices of others. 

Life..

So, as we wind up the third month of the year, I have come to realize I have written less posts this YEAR so far than an average month last year. 

Kait takes the blame. 

But I don't know that I would blame her, although certainly, her presence in my life has filled up some of the holes that I used the blog to fill.  (Don't over-analyze that too much, I don't want to...)

Some of it, I will admit, is when I am inspired, I may be spending time with her, and it's not the same as spending time with oneself to pull away and write.  Like before I wrote that last sentence, which I had composed in my head, she put her head on my computer and smiled at me and suddenly all I wanted to do was close this window and kiss her.  Except she's been sick.  Or last night, when I was having this wonderful inspiration, but I didn't want to get out of bed to write it.  Not only didn't I want to wake myself, but I didn't want to risk waking her.

But frankly, that's as much an excuse as anything (except these last few days she's been home sick) because frankly I have five days - ALL DAY - when she isn't here.  When I would have plenty of time, to say, have a full-time job, let alone write a silly little blog like this. 

It's been two weeks, and I feel fairly at home here.  Kind of surprising but really kind of nice. 

Canada is still a foreign country, but I have lost track of how many hockey games I have watched - either in full or even partial while flipping (kindly) from some place else.  I am learning how to translate Celsius to get an idea - 10 degrees is now warm.  Still trying not to pay attention to the fact that there are 3.78 liters litres to the gallon and at $1.39 per litre, gas is OVER $5/gallon.  I have made it to the library.  Twice.  Getting a refresher in French by reading labels at the grocery. 

(Yes, by the way, there IS a Canuck's game on, so Kait is not paying as close attention to me as she might otherwise... Given the consolidated hockey schedule, I probably have EVEN more time to write, and there is even less reason to blame Kait).

But when I think about where I was a year ago... it is such a different place from where I am now.  I had no idea my life would change so much in such a short amount of time, but really, I give myself a break and recognize that this change was a long time coming.

I miss some parts of my old life.  Some people, mostly.  But I am happy here.  I am getting into routines (see my last post). 

Tomorrow - if she's feeling better and goes to work - I will try to reinsert this whole blog-writing thing back into my routines.  Because I still have things to say and share. 

Even if life (or Kait) gets in the way.... ;)

Domesticated....

Hmm... as my hands dry from the third .. or is it fourth?.. time washing dishes today, I can't help but wonder how I became domesticated so quickly. 

Think of me - generally - as having more the habits of a guy (I know, guys, you're probably better than me, so forgive me the insult).  For the last three years, I've lived alone.  Answered to no-one, had few guests, and so chores were, well, optional.  Except laundry.  Don't worry, I did laundry.  Although I did learn how to make certain items of clothing last longer.... (I also own many, many, many pairs of underwear.. oops TMI)

Make my bed? Why? I was gonna be back in it later that night.. Aw hell, who am I kidding? If I was at home, I'd be back in it within a few minutes, getting out usually just to go to the fridge or the bathroom or something.  I was the only one using my toilet, and I had no pets (for the most part), so there was no reason to put the lid down.  My bathroom was spacious enough it wasn't as if I had things above the toilet waiting to fall in.  As long as I could get back and forth to the fridge and the bathroom and the front door, who really cared if there were clothes, or books or other things on other parts of the floor?  If I had plenty of clean dishes (and I had plenty of sets of dishes) what was the rush in washing the dishes?

Well, I wasn't necessarily that bad...

Oh, wait, that's right, my girl reads this, I can't get away with that...

But it's been just under two weeks here, and I have been quite domesticated.  If I'm still in bed when she leaves in the morning, I make the bed.  (Usually not until about 3 PM or so, but still...).  And if she's here, I often help her make it.  I've learned to put the lid down on the toilet because the bathroom is, shall we say, cozy.  I don't always get it right.  I've learned to pull the shower curtain shut before drying my towel, so that it won't get mildewy on the bottom.  And, I've learned how to wash dishes after every meal (or right before she comes home, whichever works...), and put the dishes away, even. 

I have been domesticated. 

It's not necessarily a bad thing.  I'm not sure if I ended up living on my own again any time soon (and I'm not hoping for this, understand) I'd probably quickly revert to my slovenly ways.  Because I understand very well what the motivation is for doing them now.  (Hopefully you haven't eaten any time soon, because I might make you gag....)  The motivation is "Love". 

Now, it would *PROBABLY* be more loving if I didn't point it out every time she came home, "Hey, babe? Look, I made the bed!  You know what this says?" She's started to roll her eyes at this point, and frankly, I can't blame her... "It says, 'I love you!'" 

I do these things because it makes HER happy.  And that's reason enough.  And that, my friends, is how I have become domesticated. 

P.S.  I'm sure I still have quite a ways to go... but I am a work in progress at least... ;)

Risky Business....

... and yes, you do show your age, if what you just thought about was a 16 year old Tom Cruise sliding along in his whitey-tighties...

The whole relationship business is a risky business.  I have just spent the last week with my family working on condensing some of my belongings that were in storage to a smaller amount.  Getting rid of some of the vestiges of my last long-term committed relationship.  And if that weren't enough impetus to send me down memory lane and throw up some red flags regarding the risk of relationships, the ex whom I hadn't heard from in two years decided to rear her ugly head. 

My family is concerned about this move to Vancouver - rightly so, in theory - because of the risk it may not work out. 

It may not work out. 

That's true.

A crappy possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. 

And here's the thing.  If it doesn't work out, the folks here in this small town have made quite clear to me that I am welcome back.  And Robin Sparkles, who also lives on the West Coast, could probably tolerate me as a short-term room-mate if it didn't work out. 

If it didn't work out, what I have learned from the last relationship, is that it isn't the end of the world.

Now, for awhile there, that wasn't clear.  My ex was a frightening mentally ill woman who made the last few months I was living in the same state with her, let alone home, hell.  Actually, she made hell look good...

Needless to say, I haven't really missed her.  I'd like to.  I'd like to have fond memories of the time we've spent together.  I'd like to remember the woman I did fall in love with fondly, and just think it was a shame that it didn't work out.

But it REALLY didn't work out in the end. 

I've spent a lot of time the last three and a half - nearly four now - years trying to figure out what I could have done differently.  IF I could have done anything differently.  IF I should have left earlier than I did.  Trying to solve the "problem" so that I could avoid repeating the mistakes.

I've been looking at that a lot more intensely these last six months as I've embarked upon this new relationship.

Because even though it may not work out, I know you'll be surprised to discover that isn't my preference. 

It is easy - perhaps even preferable - to blame it all on the ex's mental illness.  It's simpler that way, right?  But I'm not a person who can make things simple, sometimes. And, I am a person who tries to accept responsibility for my own actions. 

So what words of advice after all this reflection would I give my new love about living with me?  What can I do to prepare us for a good life?  And how can I enter this new life without the insecurities planted by the old one?

I think I've healed.  I'd like to think I've healed.  I hope I've healed.

But then she comes back, two years after the last contact, the last thrashing of me, and rears her ugly head.  Her e-mails start off sounding reasonable, normal, even pleasant.  Well-wishing, peaceful, still loves me and forgives me.  But it doesn't take long before the anger bursts forth. 

That's always fun...

Particularly fun to have dumped on you when you're excited and happy for new changes and new possibilities in your life... and trying to get a lot of stuff done so you can take that next step...

Particularly when you wonder when the next shoe will drop... what is coming next... if it will ever be over.  If she will ever just let go. 

It makes a girl pause about entering into ANOTHER relationship. 

I mean apparently I've ruined the ex's life.  Is it fair for me to do that to someone else? Will I do that to someone else?

And how can I make promises of "forever" again knowing that it didn't work out the last time...?

There are no guarantees.  There simply aren't.  Relationships are a risky business...

But if we're lucky.. more time will be spent sliding across floors in our underwear together, then worrying about replacing the precious crystal egg. 

Flip a Coin...

Sometimes it would be nice if you could make the hard decisions easier by just flipping a coin. 

Heads, I end the blog post here with that one line.  Tails, I write more...

Tails.. Damnit.

;)

As many of you know, I've not been happy with the work I've been doing - my contract - for some time now.  I thought when one aspect of the project came to an end at the end of September that it would be it, they would thank me for my time, and I'd be moving on.  I stockpiled at Sam's club.  (That reminds me, I should have spaghetti for dinner tonight...).  I prepared for a period of unemployment and was gently surprised when the end didn't come.

I briefly got excited about a full-time opportunity with them, with benefits, but that didn't come either.  And so for the last four or five months I've been biding my time trying to figure out what I'm doing, and whether or not it was time to start looking for other opportunities.  But at some level, I am committed to them. 

Except I wasn't supposed to be.  Originally, when we approached this local business run by someone who my partner and I both knew from church, this was supposed to be a gap-filler for me while we looked for the work we supposedly wanted to do.  Initially, we hadn't exactly made any promises to be there long-term, and the point was that we wanted this job to provide some flexibility, so that if I got another project in the area where were hoping to build our business, we could put this one on the back burner and bring it back up to full boil when each other project ended.  It was intended to supplement our other business development.

But they were happy with the work, and it was providing steady pay, and it was 30 hours a week, so there wasn't a lot of room to fill in around it.  And the opportunities weren't there immediately, and by the time they might have been, I seemed to have settled comfortably into this, and we didn't want to rock the boat. 

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  ;)

But seriously, one of the things we were hoping for and expecting with this assignment was some flexibility.  And slowly, but surely, as time has gone on that flexibility has eroded.  So much so that shortly, after they finish installing software onto a computer that I can use, it would be hard pressed to make the legal distinctions between me as a contractor and me as an employee.  Now it has come all down to the hours I work, and that the hours I work are on-site.  Certainly no longer encouraging me to work on the project when I want to, nor making me want to work on the project much at all.

If I were not planning on moving from here, this would be an even more delicate situation than it is.  I'm ready to be done with this.  I need something different, something that doesn't keep holding the potential end of the contract over my head like the blade of a guillotine, and something that brought me more security and ideally an opportunity, perhaps, for benefits.  They have had an opportunity to hire me for awhile, but seem deliberately to have chosen not to.  And I don't know, had they made me a job offer, it would necessarily have been better than what I have - it may not have been.  But, it would have been nice to have had the chance to decide.

There's that annoying song by Beyonce about "put a ring on it" - and it's only annoying, of course, because it gets stuck in your head and at random times, you'll find yourself singing "uh, uh, oh.. oh,oh, oh oh...." (you'll have to know what I'm singing to know what I'm singing, but I think you know! You're welcome!).   And a part of me thinks that he has had plenty of opportunity to make me a more permanent employee and secure my loyalty, and that he hasn't done so should give me some freedom, some freedom without GUILT, to not feel so loyal to him.  To move on. 

Instead, there's been a bit of an arrogant boyfriend chipping away at your self-esteem kind of pattern going on.  And if this were a romantic relationship, not being happy, not getting what you need out of the relationship, well, it might seem like a no-brainer.  Particularly if he hadn't put a ring on it! ;)

So why am I agonizing over this? I have a new opportunity in front of me.  And while it might not have been the one I thought I was looking for professionally, I am prepared to make a change and a positive one for my future.  Why am I allowing this outstanding string to act as a yoke?

As I was telling someone else earlier today by chat, it isn't as if I am relying upon him for a good recommendation....

Oh, wait... it's that whole burning bridges thing.  That wherever you can prevent burning a bridge, you should try to avoid doing so.  That's generally a good plan, I admit.  And I have been fortunate the one time I napalmed a bridge on my way out of a job, it actually got rebuilt, and I was rehired nonetheless.  I did feel a bit of regret at having napalmed it, but, overall, things worked out fine in the end.

And where does this bridge I'm afraid to burn leave me anyway?

Is this really a Kobayashi Maru scenario? (and yes, I did have to google to remember the name of the unwinnable scenario from Star Trek - despite the Borg name, I am NOT that geeky (or so I pretend)).  In which case, why am I so worried? Or what am I so worried about? 

I don't know. 

Flip a coin.. Heads I leave tomorrow (okay,well, maybe not THAT quickly).. tails I get stuck here, forever (definitely NOT!).  Maybe I need one of those D&D dice so I can have a few more options...

Wait.. who just turned into a geek?

What AM I waiting for?

Waking this morning to find heart-breaking tweets from my love, I can't help but be asking this question.  It isn't like it's the first time in the last week that I've asked the question.  Ever since my passport arrived last Saturday while she was still here, we've been - or I've been - asking the question.

There are three or four "hooks", I guess, that keep me from taking off immediately, and even then, their ability to hold me here keeps loosening.

The first hook we talked about when we first became romantic was the one that provided us the structure of the laughable idea of a two-year plan.  My commitment to my church.  But I have quickly grown to realize that these people truly care for me, and what they would want most for me is to be happy.  And the new guy we have in as priest is doing a good job getting himself settled in and taking ownership.  They don't need me like they might have needed me if he hadn't done this as he should.  When we were dealing with supply priests - a priest who was just filling in as a supply for our need - then we were the ones still responsible for running the church.  That just doesn't apply any more.  Thank goodness!

So while I will feel some guilt and some loss at letting go of this fine community that helped me sail through my healing and recovery process, I know, nonetheless, that when I'm ready to say "goodbye", they'll be okay.  That is a hook that I can gently release.

The second hook is actually two fold - just cleaning up and packing to go and leaving nothing behind.  I have accumulated some junk - none of which I am attached to to keep other than if I am living here.  Furniture, basically.  And I've just accumulated a lot of paperwork that is unnecessary to keep - stuff that I couldn't throw out because I *MIGHT* need it.  As well as the general paraphernalia for running a household.  Like a fridge.  Or lawnmower.  I need to clean these out of the house, apparently, before I were to move.  And to pack up what remains reasonably enough to fit in my car.  This is somewhat easy, although, I don't want to call Salvation Army to pick up my bed until the car itself is packed and ready to go...  I kinda enjoy having some place to sleep other than the floor...

The second "fold" of this is that I did manage to rescue some stuff from California when I left.  And it has all been sitting in a storage unit about 300-400 miles away near where my folks' live.  Surprisingly it is not worth continuing to pay $200+ a month to keep.  They have been kind to help me do so, as I have been unable to face the overwhelming monstrosity that is the storage unit, but it is time for it to be cleaned out and stuff to be tossed and sold and given away.  I have been ignoring it for three and a half years now, it is time to face it and deal with it - before I move on.

The last hook is an awkward one, frankly.  I finally return to work this week after having been gone for nearly three weeks, really, even though she was only here for one of them.  I had a parishioner who was dying, and I stayed with him and his family for the last two days of his life, and I had a few of my "old ladies" go in and out of the hospital, and I did have a funeral to help prepare for.  The two weeks before my love visited were full, to say the least.  So, I get a bit of understandable guff from the guy who owns the place and who was kind enough to hire me over whether I'm still working here or not.  On more than one occasion.  And so I have to pretend like it's business as usual because it isn't as if I have any clue exactly when I will get everything together to go, and money - particularly for making a move - is a good thing.  And I'm a writer for him.. I have several outstanding things I've been working on.  Some of which - yes - could be written remotely, but he'd prefer to see my face to know I'm working on it and making progress.  I can't exactly leave entirely without finishing what he's been paying me to write.  And I'm not exactly sure how and when that will happen.

But I want to pack up my car and go now.  Call a friend and ask her to deal with the Salvation Army for the furniture - tell her she has until the end of the month since the rent is paid up.  Offer the appliances to the landlord.  And go.  That's what I want to do now. 

But there's an annual meeting for church that I'm running...  and then there's those pesky projects that need to be finished and the outstanding storage unit to be dealt with... 

I have the passport burning the metaphorical hole in my pocket...

Blah! 

Darwin...

Every once in awhile I listen to what "they" say, but I do so with a grain of salt.  Because it makes "they" taste better.  No, wait, that's not it...

There are a lot of theories out there about what makes people healthy and happy and prosperous and successful and whatever other good and positive adjective you might come up with.

But really, that's often all that they are - theories.  Hypotheses to be tested.

As I have entered into a new relationship - ready or not - I contemplate a lot about what "they" say, and whether, actually, I am ready or not, and if it makes a difference.

Because I'll tell you something.  My lady-friend (I actually hate that term, but for some reason, it seems to fit literally (as in style, not actually) in this next sentence...)  My lady friend would tell you it doesn't make a difference because we belong together, and that is just that.  And I'd agree with her.

So, it doesn't make a difference.

BUT... that doesn't mean it isn't fun to ponder, does it?  (And yes, my lady friend might chirp in here that I need to be careful not to borrow trouble.. even if I intend to give it back)

So these "theories"...

Things like being able to be self-sustaining.  About it being wrong to "need" someone else.  About being a perfectly healthy complete individual before EVER contemplating a relationship. 

Yeah, that kinda of bull-hockey (to quote Colonel Potter). 

My lady-friend has actually read a considerable amount of my blog, including some of my particularly vulnerable posts.  So, she has a pretty good idea of what she's getting into here with me.  She's seen some of the baggage that I carry and that I've spent a good deal of this past year and the past three and a half years trying to unload.  She knows that my ADD can cripple me at times.  She knows that in some objective (ha) standard that I am not "perfect", and yet, she believes that I am perfect for her. 

So what do I care what "they" say? 

Frankly, for the most part, I don't. 

I was thinking, though, while eating my fried eggs for "breakfast" (at 3:30ish PM) about Darwin. And I think one of the reasons that our species has managed to survive, frankly, is that we DO work together.  That we are not simply out there as lone wolves trying to do everything ourselves.  That the division of labor - whether it was sexist or not - was so that we could do what we needed TOGETHER to thrive and move forward.  That it's a lot for each of us to go out, kill the meal, gather the fruits and grains, prepare the meal AND clean up afterwards.  That it is easier for us to thrive and to have time to do more than just survive if we do it together.

Because if you'll recall from my past posts, one of my goals this past year is to move beyond just surviving, and move into thriving.  And I just don't think it's easy for us to do that alone.  Perhaps it is possible.  But that's a lot of work for a single person to do all by themselves. 

So, even if you don't believe in all the religious crap that God intended us to be in pairs, and such, even just the basic theory of survival suggests, nay, seems to require, that we work together.  That we be together.

So, .. if I were to listen, closely, to what "they" say, it seems quite clear that "they" say we should be together.  Because it is much easier to do this together, than to do this alone.  And I feel blessed to have found someone who wants to do this with me. 

Happy New Year, folks!  May 2013 be full of blessings and happiness!  Let's work together.  After all, we are a collective.  Resistance is futile.  ;)  If you've learned nothing this year, as loyal readers, you should have learned that.. ;)

Requirements

So a little over a year ago, I began composing a list of "requirements" for a potential romantic partner.  A reminder, before putting on the hormone-goggles, of what is important to me in a relationship and in a person I want to share even just a part of my life with.

The good news - and not the subject of this blog post - is that my new love not only meets, but she exceeds these requirements.  By far!  In fact, every once in awhile she'll do something surprising that makes me say, "Y'know, that should have been on my list, too..."

But she is not what this post is about.

The list was a combination of practical matters, values, and attitudes towards life.  In hindsight some of the "practical matters" were really just examples of a larger quality - an ability to be flexible, for example, rather than rigid specific requirements in and of themselves. 

But one of the qualities I am beginning to realize I need from more than just my romantic partner. 

I recognize we all feel blue sometimes - I felt depressed for a considerable amount of the last three and a half years - and we all have things that don't go the way that we'd like.  We all have room for complaint.  But what I need in my life, and need to surround myself, are people who have room for happiness.  This doesn't mean someone who is bubbly and happy all the time - because let's face it, often those people we want to shoot* - but someone who despite everything that might seem to go wrong, will still allow themselves to be happy. To recognize life's blessings and be grateful for what he or she has and not simply what might seem to be missing.

I want the people I care about to experience happiness - I want them to just be happy - but I recognize that while I can make someone happy (for a moment), as a general rule, I can't if they won't allow themselves to be.  I spent too much time and energy trying to create an environment in which the ex-wife could feel happy and secure, but it never worked because she wouldn't allow herself to be happy.

The great news is that my new love allows herself to be happy.  In fact she's currently one of those bubbly people who is happy all the time! And I love that about her.  It isn't that her life is perfect - from an objective standpoint, it's not, she has challenges - but she is happy with what she has, and that makes it perfect.  I am very blessed.  Having someone to share my life with who can allow themselves to be happy is essential for me. 

And now, I have come to realize, it is essential to me for more than just my romantic partner.  It is also important for me to see and have in the people with whom I surround myself.  You can whine, you can cry on my shoulder, you can be having a crappy time of it in life and tell me about it.  But if you can't also accept the inverse, the possibility of being happy, the possibility of being blessed, of noticing that the cup isn't JUST half empty, then I am going to start to keep my distance from you.  I don't need you to be happy all the time.  I don't need you to be happy. But I need you to recognize the possibility of happy - and if you can't, you have my compassion, you can have my time during crisis, but you can't have my continued presence on a regular basis in your life.  I need more from you.  You should want more for you.  And until then... I wish you only the best. 

If I were to have a resolution, I guess, for the New Year, this would be it.. to surround myself with people who allow for the possibility of being happy. 



* I admit in light of current events, this is perhaps not the most sensitive expression, and yet... I mean it is as an expression, not as any literal desire or interest in TRULY ...

Blog-Post-On-Demand

Not quite as sexy as an on-demand pay-per-view channel, but, it'll have to do.

Alt title: Oh, yeah, so that's what this feels like...

My paternal grandmother was bipolar - except then, we called it manic-depressive.  And so there's always been this underlying awareness that it can run in families, and, well... whenever I have gone into see someone who shrink-wraps, I always am sure to mention this.  I've never really thought I was, but I'm not the professional, now am I?

I never really thought I was because while I had the "mania" - attributable also to my ADD - I was never really depressed.  I can't say I was always "happy", but for the most part, I think I was relatively well balanced.  Until, oh, about, three and a half years ago. 

And even then, my depression was understandable.  I described it as situational.  A certainly understandably depressing situation had most certainly been at the root of it.  And that explained the first year.  And being alone in a new town.. Well, maybe that explained the second year.  But really, by the third year, shouldn't I be freaking done with this depression thing?  Yes, I could see subtle improvements.  I could look back at the year before and say I was better than I had been.  But damn, if this wasn't taking forever.

And I can't say I'm out of the woods yet.  I still see lots of trees blocking the sun around me.  But I can say in the last month and a half, there has been significant, noticeable, improvement.  Periods of excitement and energy and - dare I say it - happiness have been more than just fleeting.

A lot of it, I recognize, centers around the new position at the church. I forget, sometimes, how much I like people.  How much I truly enjoy them.  And as a result of this new position, I have taken it upon myself to sit down with as many of our members as I can.  And I'm loving it.  Just loving it.  Finding things that people are getting excited about.  Pulling out areas where they may thrive within the community.  Finding people to support others who took a particular ministry on their own. 

My theme, by the way, (even though I don't *need* a theme) is sharing the ministry.  And I feel strongly about this, and could get on a roll, and bore you all to death, although keep you mildly entertained by the energy and excitement *I* feel about it.  But I'm loving what I'm doing.  I'm enjoying seeing seeds I have planted begin to take root.  I am excited about the possibilities.  I feel like I have found my calling.  Maybe not my long-term calling, but a short-term one and I am enjoying it.

Which I haven't done in a long while. 

Oh.  Yeah.. So this is what happiness feels like.  So this is what it's like to enjoy my life, again.  There is a light at the end of that tunnel - there is sun beyond those trees.  I will emerge.  I am emerging.  Damn, that sunshine on my face feels good. 

P.S.  The problem with blog posts on demand is that there is the possibility that I might end up taking your request and using it to write about something only remotely related.  I can't help where the spirit takes me... ;)  So, my friend, I know I barely touched on what you wanted me to write about.  But maybe in another post... ;)

The next post...

.. so after I wrote the short post on Answers, I started another post called "I'm a bitch".  It is true.  Sometimes I can be...

It was a post, apparently, though in gestation, not quite ready yet to be born.

I'm not sure it is, yet, but I'll let my fingers give it a try, and if you're reading this, well, then, I guess I thought it was "good enough".  Hee hee...

Ever have a disagreement or a grumble with someone close to you - in this case, more generally, a friend - and just want to say "Fuck 'em... I'm done"?  Or more accurately and comprehensively, "I'm done with people..."?

Yeah. That.

Or, more fun, and probably more accurate, a series of grumbles with a series of people...

... and, that, unfortunately, is when you have to look in the mirror and ask / wonder if it is yourself.  If you are, indeed, a bitch. 

But let's face it.  None of us is perfect. We all have our bitchy moments.  And ideally, in our non-bitchy moments, we have shown something to others to suggest that our value is worth overlooking those moments of bitchiness.

There is a fine line between expecting everyone to accept you the way you are, and love you the way you are without having to change and bend yourself into being a pretzel to be accepted and loved, and then using that "People should love me the way I am" as a hammer or a bludgeon to entitle you to act like a bitch. 

There was someone I've met in the last six months - virtually - who very much had a huge chip on her shoulder, and basically felt that if someone else was worthy, they'd love them just the way that they were.  On the very first day she and I interacted, though, she went postal on me.  Then, later, apologized if she offended, and gosh, gees, she was getting her period, and by the way, why are you so sensitive?

I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and didn't block her after that, although I was tempted and every warning in me said to run.  And sure enough, it happened again.  I wasn't as invested, and it didn't take me by surprise, and I was better able to stand my own ground and call her on her behavior.  "Gees, why are you so sensitive?" and "You attacked me".  Um, no, I merely disagreed with what you said.  I can do that, ideally, and you should be strong enough? secure enough? to understand that simply because I don't agree with everything you believe doesn't mean I am attacking you....

She was tiring, after a while... (Heck, who am I kidding? She was tiring immediately), and eventually, I moved on and blocked her. 

Next.

It is Twitter, after all.  There are definitely plenty of fish in the sea. 

This was several months ago, and it is easier and safer to talk about her and her behavior to illustrate these general principles than to look inward to see if I, now, am being the bitch.

And I probably am.  Now, before you get all supportive and wonderful and tell me how sweet I am below (which, well, go ahead, and do... I won't mind, I guess! ;) ).. you don't have to live with me day-to-day.  You don't have to deal with my irrational moments, which feel pretty damn rational to me, damnit.  You may see me stick my head in the sand, but as virtual strangers / friends you can just keep on walking and ignore me.  Those whom I have lured into the trap of friendship are not as easily able to ignore me. 

'Cuz I can whine. 

I can be grumpy.

I can be childish.

I can throw a damn good tantrum. 

I can get snippish, snappish, snarky, and sarcastic. 

I can be mean.

And, when I step back, I know that some of this behavior is no different than when done by a child.  I am seeking attention by any means necessary, and since the good attention may not seem to be flowing at the moment, I guess I seek bad attention, too. 

Great. 

No, I don't take crayons to walls.  I haven't done that since I was ten.  Besides, none of you have to live within my walls, anyway, so none of you would notice, and it wouldn't get any of that attention. 

But I do crave attention.  Oh, so much.

Okay.  So that isn't news.  And I'm not alone.  And wait, you want attention, too?

Oh, us humans. We can be so much fun, can't we?

All I want is for you to love me, notice me, care for me, nurture me... be with me... If you must, you can even call me George..

Is that so much to ask?

Yeah, that's what I was afraid of....

... apparently, that might be why I can be a bitch. 

P.S.  If you're here from the Bloggess, check out my post Welcome Lawsbians to learn a little about my tenuous connection to Jenny! ;)

Good enough...

Okay, so an hour ago I found out I have 48 hours until my "handoff" meeting. 

That seemed do-able.  Still does - don't know why I wrote in the past tense!

Put together a macro-punch list of what still needs to be done, and put together a schedule to try and get it done.  (Yoda on my shoulder (he's heavy, by the way) : NO! Try not! Do or do not! There is no try!)

And try and be reasonable and realistic and plan in breaks and other life events.  I cannot - and will not - spend the next forty-eight hours on this project.  (Forty-six now...)

I realize my biggest issue with this project is letting go, and recognizing when it is "good enough". 

"Good enough" is a really hard concept to accept.  There's always a tweak that can make it better.  Letting go, though, and recognizing that something or someone or some event or some whatever is good enough is really tough.  I want to be able to say I did my best, but "good enough" is rarely one's best.  So, I qualify and instead will say, "I did the best I could given the... " whatever comes next refers to limitations.  And even that, sometimes, is not true.  But I have to believe it, and I have to let go.

It is hard for me to realize, and easier for others to see for me, that sometimes my "good enough" is still much better than many people's "best"s and that is even more reason why I should be able to accept "good enough". 

You can see that I am still trying to convince myself. 

But this is an ongoing struggle on a much larger level.  It is a circular fight.  At some level, we have to give ourselves permission to be human, and to not be perfect, and to accept that we do, generally, do the best that we can given the circumstances.  We do this in parenting, we do this in our relationships with others, we do this at work, we do this in keeping commitments.  But sometimes we give ourselves too much permission to not bring our best to the table.  To not give our best.  To instead spread ourselves so thin, to create circumstances, where we have to accept "good enough". 

It is a double-edged sword "good enough".

I brought in Yoda above partly as a joke, but I think his comment addresses a broader issue.  Sometimes we need to just do.  There is no trying.  And sometimes, we need to change the circumstances that prevent us from doing.  In wanting to get the correct exact line, I googled it, and re-watched 44 seconds of the scene from which it comes.  In the scene from Empire Strikes Back where Yoda is instructing the young Jedi that he is what prevents himself from raising the X-wing fighter that has sunk into the morass,

"So certain are you? *sigh* Always with you what cannot be done.  Do you nothing that I say?" Luke tells him that moving stones around is one thing, that this huge thing is totally different. 

Yoda says, "No.  No different.  Only different in your mind. You must unlearn what you have learned."

And that's when Luke says he'll give it a try. 

What often keeps us from getting things done is ourselves.  Whether it is accepting actually good work as "good enough" or believing that the circumstances around us really prevent us from doing something the way we think it should or could be done. 

This is a rambling post, with some real potential in it for great thoughts.  But the current circumstance is that the time I allotted for a break is over.  So this will have to be "good enough" to provoke some thought from you and from me about how we approach getting done what we need to get done.  And how we let go of the things we have done. 

It's one big circle, and I am already dizzy thinking about it... ;)

 P.S.  Hit 5,000 hits last night.  Thanks all!  Keep reading! 

A Plan?

A friend of mine asked me yesterday if I had a "plan" set for what I am going to do with myself after the contract ends.  A plan? I facetiously asked...? What? Doesn't she read this blog religiously?  I'm going to make sure my sink is clean before I go to bed at night.  Other than that, what kind of plan do I need?

Later, by Twitter, I mentioned how I felt like I was sitting around waiting for something great to happen.  And she chimed in how I shouldn't wait, I needed to out there and make it happen.  To which I gave a harvesting analogy and insisted I had planted seeds.  She believed me.

And I have... Don't get me wrong.

But she is poking at the bear issues I have concerns about myself.  Gently - or perhaps not so gently - making sure I won't devolve into a glob of blubber when the contract ends.  I think she's afraid I will sit at home all day in my bed watching re-runs of Love Boat that I recently discovered on You Tube (that song is IMPOSSIBLE to get out of your head, so I don't recommend it... But, oh, that Doc, he is so funny (NOT!)).  And her fears aren't entirely unjustified.  Although I'll probably also catch up on some of the bloggers I'm friends with on Twitter and now here.  And maybe find creative ways to enhance and improve my blog.  And maybe I'll start a doll head collection.  Okay, NOT to the last one.

And I won't be starting a Vision Board or likely a Pinterest account either, although I'm a little wary to say the last one because that pretty much is what I said about Twitter all this time, and we see what happened THERE!

But she's right.  I know she's right.  (Is there a way to block one single person from reading a single post?  I mean I don't need her to spend the rest of today, this week, lording it over me that I said that she was right, do I? No... I mean, she'd favorite the shit out of this post, and return to it every day just to see that I said she was right... Wait... that might help my statistics, though.... If you found this post from the right hand side, well.... you'll know that I already regret it! Kidding!)

I do need a plan to make sure I don't just burrow deeply into my bed and never emerge except for soccer and to get the church bulletin done.  Particularly because there's only another month to soccer, so that won't last too long. 

Do I have one? No.  Not entirely.  Not much at all.  Except a recognition that I want there to be some structure to my days.  Something in particular I accomplish each day.  Incremental work on other things.  I don't want to simply burrow into my bed (although it is nice and comfortable) and get lost.  That's the start of a plan, right?

In the meantime, though, it's early-ish in the morning and I need to hit the shower and get this project done first.  Right now, THAT's my plan.  Once that's done, I can concentrate on the other.  For now, that's my plan.  Okay?  Okay.

Today is the first day...

Blah, blah, blah...

Although it's fricking true.  Still, blah, blah, blah.

I am at another, shall we say, "transition point" in my life.  The part-time contract that was supposed to be somewhat short-term and that I managed to actually stretch out for a full year - much past it's expiration date - is not-so-surprisingly coming to an end.

In the bigger picture, I know this is a good thing. 

And I know my friends are stuck providing me all the good trite sayings I would say to them in the same situation.  "Today is the first day of the rest of your life", etc., etc.

And I feel their pain.  I know that there is NOTHING they could say to me - trite or otherwise - that would necessarily penetrate this bubble of concern that is surrounding me.

Now, I'm not on full blown panic or distress (yet).  But I'm not exactly happy, either.

I have several months before full blown panic or distress comes in (not that I won't have my moments, mind you). 

One of the problems I have is that some of my contracts are open ended, so it's not always possible to prepare ahead of time for another one, because it's not always clear with the first one is going to end.  It took me eight months between the last one and this one to have more than a two or three week gig, and those were eight long months.  I made a small amount of savings stretch quite far.  I was quite impressed with myself, frankly.

But my savings going into this round, though, are a little less impressive because I had some serious dental bills at the beginning of the year.  So I'm nervous.

I try to have faith.  God and I are having quite a few conversations lately.  He's the strong silent type.  He knows anything he might say I'd probably respond "blah, blah, blah" to, much as I have been doing to my friends. But I am trying to have faith that when this door closes, another one will open.  Or a window (although it's starting to get chillier...).

I also know job hunting before Christmas is not always easy.  I've got an extra month or so jump from prior years when I've found myself in this situation, but I know once mid-November hits, I just have to hold on until January.  And I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. 

The problem with these transition points, as I so politely call them, is that it also calls into question other "life choices".  Now this can be a good examination, or a not-so-good examination.  It is good and healthy, as a general rule, to make sure you stop and examine if you are in the place (literally, figuratively, metaphysically) that you want to be in your life, and when certain obligations that have been keeping you in those positions release, to confirm you are where you want to be.  Those are good examinations, because if you're going to make big changes in your life, these are good moments to make them.

The trouble is that the flip side of that can be a little bit like Alice's rabbit-hole.  And it doesn't take much to slip into full-on crisis and doubt that everything you've done to get yourself to this place and everything that you're doing is wrong.  And that you aren't supposed to be here, and .. well... you can already see how the cycle can swirl out of control quite quickly.

And I have spent a considerable amount of this summer beginning to wonder if this is the place I should be.  Wondering if despite how much I *do* like small town life, if this isn't still a bit too small for me - or perhaps, at least, not as diverse for me as I might want.  Surely there are small towns in the world with larger lesbian populations <*cough* Oregon *cough*>.   Of course even those that are nearby seem a little too political for my taste... (picky, picky, picky).  But in late June when my landlord told me I might have been better off if the Poltergeist tree had taken out my house, I have been wondering what I would do if it had.  Where would I go?  Would I stay here?

The problem, then, with grand sayings like "Today is the first day..." is that while it's meant to be optimistic and full of possibilities, is that it is just full of possibilities. And they swirl in front of someone with no direction like a tornado.  (And tornadoes are not good around here, because they bring down the BIG ASS TREE onto my house, and well...)

My friends are stuck in a hopeless situation.  I want feedback, I want *something* from them in response to my growing fear, and yet, I know, my response to anything they might offer me is "Blah, blah, blah..."  I'll have answers to refute any of their good suggestions (not that they won't stick in my craw and gestate even after I refute them) and that I will be quite stubborn and frustrating.  Which is why God stays silent.  He knows that actions speak louder than words.  Right, big guy? *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

"Do not cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago.  Watch for the new thing I am going to do.  It is happening already - you can see it now!  I will make a road through the wilderness and give you streams of water there."  (Isaiah 43)

I have carried this in my wallet for three years. 

Today is the first day....

Today's Dalai Lama Post

The following seems quite fitting in light of my last two blog posts.  It was in my morning Facebook News feed (*gasp* she still looks at Facebook even though she's now in love with Twitter... ? It's like she's cheating....)

In particular, discussing my post on Practicing Patience recently with a friend, I like the acknowledgment that we sometimes create our own problems, too.  Frankly, I think that is hard for many of us to recognize that the problems we have are ones we created, and perhaps, things might be just a wee bit easier for ourselves if we would stop creating so many for ourselves! ;)

Yeah, that was a long run-on sentence.  Hope the grammar police don't come back.  ;)

Glass Houses... Lessons Learned...

So I just typed this long-ish rambling-ish post about Dog Sitting, that was really more about boundaries, but might have come off as some sort of sermon to parents to avoid creating Holy Terrors.

After writing it, I decided it was time to take a shower and get going for the day, so this technically becomes another shower post.  [Borg properly pauses typing, moves over to the right, and applies Label, since Borg is often so forgetful about these tools]

As I lathered up and thought about what I wrote, I realized that last potential way in which my last post could be viewed.  Is that what I intended? No, not really, but perhaps so since in some ways that's where I went with it.  It wasn't what I intended when I wrote the words "Dog Sitting" in the Post title.

[A brief aside into the process of blogging for ME.  Every time I start a post, I start with the title.  I don't do this in other areas of writing, but I do here.  Every once in awhile, while typing, I recognize my post is going some different direction, and that another title might be appropriate and change it, but it is rare.  I use the title as my sign post, and before I finish the entry, I stop and re-read it to make sure that as I draw my conclusion that I tie it back up to that originating idea.  I mean the title to be catchy, but I also use it (or try to use it) as a tool to keep my blog entries somewhat focused - I do have ADD, you'll recall, and I'm sure there is more than one post not specifically related to ADD where that has been made perfectly clear!)  When I hit "New Post" I have a kernel of thoughts about where I'm going and what I want to express, but a LOT develops as I'm writing, and sometimes I go in directions I didn't originally plan for.  I trust my fingers to go where they need to most times... even if they stray from the "plan"]

I want to be very clear that I am not trying to throw stones.  Because I know that I live in a glass house.  It is with a conscious effort, frankly, that I most often use "please" and "thank you".  I've gotten much better now, and I probably throw it out unconsciously a bit, but I often am thinking about how important it is to make sure whoever I'm speaking to knows how much I appreciate what they are doing for me and recognizes that I am asking them to do something they really have no obligation, necessarily, to do.  That if they do what I ask of them, ideally it is out of the kindness of their heart. 

The reality is, of course, we have become programmed, sometimes, to simply respond to demands without thinking whether this is something we want to do for the other person or should do for the other person. Often we do things for others not necessarily as a gift, but as a thoughtless response or with a lack of understanding / back-bone that we don't *need* to do something just because someone told us to.  (Now it is helpful for keeping jobs, steady pay-checks and food on the table, but STILL it is a choice as to whether we are going to do something for someone else, even if the choice is easy by other rewards (job, steady pay-check food) provided...)

I have learned this lesson - am still learning this lesson - the hard way.  When I get in a pressured situation working with others, my ADD becomes so hyperfocused on what needs to be done, that I have been told I am REALLY good at barking orders.  Apparently, others kinda feel resentful towards me for that.  Some have even called me "bossy" and many, then, don't really want to work with me, again.  Fortunately I left most of those losers behind in California years ago. ;)

I am still horrible at thank you notes, but I do try to go out of my way to make sure the person knows that I'm grateful.  And I try to recognize that part of what is wanted behind a "thank you" note is not only an acknowledgment that you got it from you, but a confirmation that what they sent actually arrived.   It is a kindness we give to the giver to let them know it was received. 

I cringe whenever I read Dear Abby and hear about thank you notes not received, or gifts not received where protocol would expect them.  A recent letter (and I can't find it to link here) was from a couple who had a sibling who had not given them a wedding gift, but now, a few years later, gave a lavish gift to another sibling.  I cringed reading it thinking said sibling may very well have given them a gift, but it could have been lost or otherwise waylaid on its way to them.  I don't know the circumstances, and they're probably as the letter writer wrote them, but it made me think of that possibility and how religious thank you notes sent and expected (and then not received for a non-gift) could have lead the sibling to politely enquire as to whether they got his or her gift.  (My ADD brain goes wild sometimes!  I think you may have realized that!)

But I have spent many years, now, listening to the Dalai Lama, and studying the "art of compassion" which he says underlies the "art of happiness" and it has made it easier to understand and hear the effect of what happens when we demand without thought to others.  It has caused me to listen to others as they interact.  To see the fallen faces when someone they love just demands something of them, and I see it underlying SOME of people's complaints and observations of emotional abuse, including my own observations. 

And I'm still not good at it.  But I try hard to be aware of it. 

And I know you can't teach a 30 month old that the reason she should speak politely and calmly is out of kindness towards the other person.  And I know many adults may not even realize that the reason we are kind and polite is NOT because it is more likely to get us what we want (although that is many folks' motivations) but we do it out of kindness to the other person.  To say to the other person, I respect you.  I care about you.  I appreciate you.  To acknowledge they don't HAVE to do what they are doing for you, and yet, nonetheless they have.  To recognize that as a gift. 

I was about to write to recognize they have no "duty" but I know that's a loaded word, and many of us would argue that there are many situations in which there is a *duty*.  However, I think we can also describe many situations where even though there is a clear duty, it doesn't mean a person will do what they should.  (Otherwise, for example, we wouldn't need the department of child and family services, or at least such a large one)  Reinforcing, ultimately, that anything someone does for us is something they didn't have to do. (Obviously Hollywood scenarios where guns are drawn to head negate this, but even then, frankly, we have a choice, because we could allow ourselves to be shot!)

I am distressed by how much in this already demanding world, we respond by "demanding" more from others.  And I do think these are hard lessons to learn and hard lessons to teach, and they are easier to teach at a younger age than at an older one.  Part of my learning process was watching the expressions on someone else's face - someone I cared about - when I "barked" once rather than "asked". 

As human beings we seek to be accepted and loved.  We should express ourselves to each other in a way that acknowledges those basic simple universal desires.  We should treat each other in a way we would like to be treated, and appreciate each other for all that we do for each other.  We have seen quite clearly every day what happens when we forget this, or when others forget this.  We've seen the destruction the damage, whether it be minor annoyance or great anger, to the hung head, the dropped face.  My friend spoils her son because she loves him.  She will gladly make him dinner every night whether he asks for it or not.  But I see her face fall, her head drop, when he responds with demands and not requests.  It isn't because she doesn't want to do those things for him, but because she is hurt - whether she'll admit it or not - that he doesn't seem to appreciate her and love her for doing them.  His words are not kind.  They aren't mean, but they aren't kind.  This accumulates. 

Let's accumulate love and kindness that can then more easily forgive and understand an occasional harsh, rush or hurried word or demand.  No, what you've said may not be unkind, but wouldn't it be nicer if it were kind? 

So as I continue to think on these things and I continue in my glass house to try and learn these lessons, I invite you to reflect on how you treat those you care about and how you show them through all your actions and all your words how much you love them.   And if you're not, what might happen if you changed that? What if you didn't just assume that they knew you loved them? What would it hurt you to treat your loved ones as though you actually loved them? 

It wouldn't hurt at all...

Dog Sitting

Many of you may have noticed in the last 10 days or so a certain "dog" like theme entering my posts and tweets.  Some have boldly wondered and directly enquired whether I was dog sitting or not. 

Yes, I am.  But because I over-analyze and over-think things sometimes, I also became very amused that *this* was the question (more than once) asked in response to the sudden influx of canine characterizations. 

I do amuse easily.

But I am amused because it has become clear that in 160ish posts or so, and 4,300+ 140 character tweets or so that YOU KNOW that if a dog were to suddenly enter my life, it probably would not be mine.  That you all have gotten to know me so well to know that as much as I may love pups, I am not prepared for one of my own, and that I *KNOW* I'm not prepared for one of my own.

To be clear, I've had pets before.  I've even had two dogs and two cats at the same time - and frankly, I do miss them dearly.  But I was not raising them as a single parent, and while one day I hope to have the life and the patience that I could be a single parent (to someone of the feline or canine persuasion), I do know that right now that I do not have it in me.  (Clearly, though I would prefer NOT to be a *single* parent, but I won't avoid the joy and companionship of an animal simply because I may be lacking human companionship, too)

While at some level joking (and being serious, too) about "parenting" animals, some of the same reasons I know better than to have a pet also led to my choice not to have real kidlings (the human variety).  I have a lot of Mommy bloggers as readers and followers and I admire how hard it is to raise a child today.  How easy, for example, it is to give into their every whine and demand.  How hard it is to avoid raising holy terrors (wait, this isn't sounding as complimentary as I intended it to.. maybe my fingers are still tied in knots?  Told you the Borg isn't always graceful....)

Well, gees, how do I get myself out of this hole?  By admitting it wasn't entirely unrelated.

Yesterday I stumbled across another Mommy blog (there *DO* seem to be a lot of you out there!) reading Kit's latest post about Blogher, and how one of her valuable take-aways was meeting Babe_Chilla and how if she'd just rented a beach house she would have missed such a wonderful time. 

I'll be honest, if Kit likes someone, I'm interested in learning more.  And not just because she likes me... ;) 

But, frankly, partly because she reminds me of my best friend and so she seems familiar to me, seems to have good taste, and because of her #wineparty, I met many of you.  So, if Kit devotes a whole blog post to someone else, I'm gonna check her out. So I did.

Babe_Chilla's post yesterday was about Pushing Boundaries.  And how much fun it is trying to train, er, teach young ones about boundaries.  How to train, er, teach a young one how to behave well by showing that bad behavior will not be rewarded.

And I loved the blog entry and felt her pain, and I think that's why what started out very sweet and wonderful and supporting towards Mommies above started to appear to (although not intending to) venture into "snarky" control your holy terrors.  Wait, I didn't actually say that above...  *phew*

But I have often felt (as a non-parent, favorite aunt, soccer coach, girl scout leader, someone-who-always-gets-to-send-the-kids-back-kind-of-person) that this is really the keystone to good parenting (well, up there with feeding and clothing and changing diapers).  Setting and maintaining boundaries.  And I think it is also the keystone to managing relationships at any age. 

BORG BLOG ASIDE: [And I hate writing that all at the same time because I hate the idea of setting "boundaries" with someone who I am close to, or someone I am intimate with or someone I trust.  A part of me rebels at the idea that someone I would trust would need boundaries, and that is because, I guess, in an ideal world they wouldn't.  They would know what is safe and what is not safe, what is appropriate and what is not appropriate.  And frankly, that is a post for another day, perhaps, because I feel that one of the reasons my marriage failed was because I was not good at setting appropriate boundaries.  (And while my fingers are itching to type more, my brain reminds them that this post is titled "DOG SITTING" - boundaries, dear fingers, boundaries!)]

As a non-parent, I have gently tread, but nonetheless frequently have made analogies and comparisons to dog training.  Reward good behavior, ignore, discourage don't tolerate bad behavior.  And that if you want a dog that doesn't get on the couch or bed or counter, then NEVER let them on the couch, bed or counter.  Cesar Milan will tell you that dogs need structure, need boundaries.  And they are constantly, like children, exploring to find out where they are.  (They also need lots of exercise and activity to keep from getting bored, but, again, that's another aside).  And if you allow them to get on the couch once and don't push them down because you're tired of doing it, they'll learn that there are certain times when it's okay to get on the couch, and they'll keep trying and testing to see "Now? is Now? a good time? Now? Now?"

A friend of mine has an adult son who has come home after a year of college and is taking a break.  He's a good guy, from what I can see - I've just gotten to know him this spring and haven't had a lot of time to spend with him.  He is working and not spending all his days playing video games (like I did in early 2011 when I wasn't working...).  And she spoils him.  He's her kid, and at the moment, she has to live with him, so it's completely her choice, decision, etc., how she wants to treat him and what expectations she wants to create in him - I'm not judging her here on these choices / decisions, or at least I am trying not to. 

I do believe that he loves her, but it is hard for a third person to hear that in the way he speaks to her and the way that he demands certain things from her.  None of them is unreasonable.  And probably all of them are tasks she wants to do for him.  And I support that.  But it breaks my heart, I will admit, to hear, nonetheless, how this nineteen year old young man seems to expect these things, and seems to demand these things, without some exhibition of or expression of (that I can see) appreciation for what she does for him.

Before you "jump" on me (and really I put that it in quotes, because so far, dear readers, you have not shown yourselves to be the jumping kind - you have been good listeners and kind and supportive), I recognize whole-heartedly that I see just a slice of their interaction.  And I do sincerely hope that there is something in his behavior in response that makes it worth her while to provide so much for him - more than simply a love of a mother for her child.  (Although maybe that should be enough?)  I recognize that there is (or hope that there is) more to the story than I see and that I relate above.

But I admit, lately, I have been much more aware, much more sensitive in listening to others interactions with each other.  Hearing when someone demands something of another and whether there is kindness or underlying understanding or appreciation for the other person's compliance.  (Wow, fingers, DOG SITTING!!!! Where are you going? Bad fingers...No, wait, there is a circular point...). 

Babe_Chilla writes in her blog entry about a whining 30-month old girl.  Each time her daughter demands in a way that is not appropriate, she responds to her as such.  She illustrates with a demand her daughter made for water (all in CAPS). At the first demand, Chilla patiently responds: “OK my darling, how do we ask properly?”  Baby girl tries again.  Repeats what she's just said, and adds "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" to the end of it.  A good start, but not what Chilla was looking for, so she goes another few rounds with her until her daughter finally gets it right. 

Painful even reading it, I can't even imagine how much fun it is to do.  But I really praise Babe_Chilla for her persistence.  As I started to write two paragraphs above before I told my fingers they were wandering off topic, I really hear how we, as adults, often communicate with each other in the form of demands.  So often without a please or a thank you, or even some acknowledgment that we are requesting another human being to do something that they don't actually need to do for us.  And I think that's because as adults we often forget or don't even realize that the other person doesn't need to do ANYTHING for us and that each thing they do - even if they *are* being paid for it or otherwise rewarded - is a gift of their time, actions, kindness, etc., towards us or others. 

Babe_Chilla could just give in when she hears the word "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" added in - Lord knows that is more than I often hear in daily interactions between folks - but she hasn't.  Yes, daughter has made progress, but Babe_Chilla recognizes that this is still NOT the manner in which she wants her daughter asking for something, and she does her best to remain strong until she teaches her daughter exactly how it should be done.  I think that she does this for her daughter, for herself, and for all of us.  And I appreciate her for doing so.

Each night this puppy has a bed time routine that clearly I never concocted.  We are establishing our own routines in this three week period, but this is one that she has ingrained and I was given clear instruction regarding.  It has taken me awhile to recognize, at night, when she comes to me and tries to get my attention that it isn't because she needs to pee, but because she is afraid I will forget her night-time treat routine.  (She trained me on this by several experiences where I took her out and she didn't pee)  She doesn't care if I'm late with her morning chew, and often won't even whine if I'm late for dinner, but her bed-time routine she is pretty adamant about. 

And frankly, I don't mind giving into her to do this routine because I think it's a wonderful exercise in rewarding good behavior.  There are two kinds of treats that are given in some quantity each night.  But each part of the treat is given in response to some pre-trained behavior she is supposed to do.  The first half of the Beggin Strips goes to her after she properly shakes, for example.  The second when she does the next trick.  Etc., etc.  So I appreciate this nightly exercise in reinforcing good behavior and I am trying really hard not to untrain this well behaved dog.

I admit I am not as good on our walks.  She has been trained to stop at every corner and sit.  And when I've walked her in the past with her owner, this is what we've done.  This is a good exercise, and good reinforcement to sit and stop on command particularly in light of a potentially dangerous situation.  I support the exercise in theory.  But frankly, usually on our walks, I'm just not thinking about it, and she doesn't feel the need to remind me.   Fortunately we often walk in circles and don't cross the street, or walk on long bike paths without such intersections.  I hope my lack of discipline in these areas will simply affect her like that of a grandmother where the rules might be slightly different and that I don't undo all of her good training!

Alrighty, then, I think we're near the point where I'm supposed to neatly wrap this all into a ball and into some sort of conclusion.  I began this post partly to express my amusement how in such a short period of time we've both been so successful in you getting to know me.  That you recognize - what I'd like to think - is my ability to be responsible and not to take on a commitment that I am not prepared to do, so that if there were suddenly a canine in my life, it must be temporary.  Talking about responsible pet ownership or choosing ownership responsibly, I made a connection to my choice not to be a parent.  This led me to discuss the connections I do see between owner (or caretaker in this case) and dog and parent and child, and I wanted to tie the two together particularly with Babe_Chilla's post still fresh in my mind. 

And, lastly, then I wanted to encourage and support all of the parents out there in the efforts you make and the hard work it takes to produce good, responsible, respectful and caring children.  Particularly understanding that these children will become adults and the lessons you teach them painfully at 30-months will be more than amply rewarded by the wonderful human beings you create to go out and interact with the rest of the world.  And as part of the rest of the world, I thank you.