The fill-in update

A week into school now, we've settled into the routine more easily and faithfully than I would have ever thought. Anna's 8:00 pm bedtime (and its accompanying prerequisite of an earlier dinner) are a welcome change requirement to our days, and the alarm going off at 6:30 hasn't been quite as painful as I expected. Somehow we've settled into a groove in the mornings that Anna doesn't fight and, more importantly, where I don't have to nag her as incessantly to hurry up like I did last year. And we're making it to school with plenty of time...early, even! I'm about to die of shock.

I'm doing a slightly better job of going to bed earlier than my norm the past five years. It's not as early as it should be and between my occasional pronounced crankiness, lack of a zen patience at times, and general wooziness in the afternoon, I can tell that I'm definitely not getting as much sleep as I should for the earlier wakeup time. But hey, 1:00 to 1:30 am is still a radical improvement over the 3:00 to 4:00 am it often was during preschool.

I went to the gym one morning last week after dropping Anna off at school, for only the second time since I got the stupid membership over fifteen months ago. I was super-sore the next day, but I enjoyed the time while at the gym and the feeling that I was doing something physical and healthy for the first time in a long, long while. I relished the soreness, was reminded of the glory days when I regularly was sore from hard workouts at dance practices, classes, or camps waaaaaay back in the day. I thought of Charley a lot while I was at the gym, remembering his notepads with his stats--date, weight, number of reps and weights lifted--that he'd keep after visiting the gym, always hoping to increase his strength for cycling, and I smiled happily at the thought that at least this was something that I know he'd be happy about me doing, that he'd be proud of me for. The few not-really-fights we had (translation: the times that I got most upset or had my feelings hurt the most by him) were about going to the gym and staying healthy, and it was nice to be able to see, acknowledge, and appreciate it in real time that I knew he'd approve of it so heartily. I know he'd likely be proud of me for many things in the last five years since he died, but "proud" wasn't exactly a vocabulary word he used for me or our relationship--it simply wasn't a word or description he used for things with me, even though I know (I assume?) he felt the underlying emotion--so I've had a hard time being able to console myself with things that Charley would be "proud of me" for these past five years. And for better or worse, I've been more aware of my shortcomings these past five years--the slovenly house, my laziness, my inactivity, my weight gain--that I know drove him nuts when he was alive and I've beat myself up way too much for my supposed lack.

I haven't made it back to the gym yet, but I fully intend to for as long as I'm able before going back to work might interfere. (In fact, I'm planning to go as soon as I finish writing, so I can pick Anna up at kindergarten right after the gym.)

Anna started gymnastics for the first time ever this past Monday and she loves it, even though she doesn't really have any innate ability at it. She adores kindergarten, and as she exclaimed this morning at breakfast, she "can't wait for first grade!" She loves being six years old and being big enough now to do all sorts of things--go to school, take gymnastics, walk herself into her classroom in the morning.

The daily time off from her during school is lovely, but three hours is such a tease. I have to pay way too much attention to the clock so I don't accidentally lose track of time and miss picking her up at her classroom door at 10:55.

But tears have been welling up in my eyes too as I typed much of this, and I couldn't even begin to tell you why. Probably it's because I'm tired and I'm starting to stress and worry. I was "lucky" for the last five years in that I didn't have to work and didn't have to worry too much about money. (I still have problems using the term lucky to describe that I was able to not work for five years solely because of life insurance that came from my 28-year-old husband fucking dying.) But those glory days are at an end and I need to get my @$$ back to work and soon. Fortunately I've seen many more emails from Monster.com coming into my inbox these past few weeks, notifying me of technical writing jobs in the area...which is good, but it somewhat depresses me too. I don't totally know why. Maybe it's the fear of another transition, the same old sadness that I won't get to spend as much time with my child as I'd like and as I'm used to, worry that going back to work won't be a magic fix-all pill either. And with our health insurance premiums climbing higher every year (all paid 100 percent out of pocket each month), finding out yesterday I need over $2000 of dental work done in the next six months (and I have zero dental insurance), and all the other normal big bills of life--new tires, routine dental appointments, and on and on--to deal with, I'm simply worrying and stressing more. I need the job now, not several months from now. They're not unique worries and I'm certainly not throwing a my-life-is-worse-than-yours pity party...but it's a still hard to deal with on my own too.

Perhaps it's just the letdown that would naturally come after passing the milestones last week and this past summer. One part tears of relief that I survived the past five years of widowhood, single parenting, and watching my child grow up and amaze me daily yet her father being able to see none of it...other parts tears of exhaustion from surviving the past five years; tears of sadness, of missing Charley; tears of fear and wanting to call, "Uncle! No more for a while!" (or maybe, "Come on, Fairy Godmother! Where did you disappear to? I haven't seen you in five years, two months, and three days. Help! Please!").

Maybe it's just the tiredness tinging my emotions too, but I'm back to feeling more isolated again, more than I did during the summer. I drop Anna off at school, I come home for the 3 hours and do stuff that I need to get done, pick her up, and we're generally at home the rest of the day until bedtime unless we have plans or appointments. I gotta change that routine, because I know I don't react well under it. I need to figure out child care arrangements so I can start going to dance team practices again once a week (I can't take Anna with me anymore because she needs to be in bed 1.5-2 hours before we used to get home from the practices last year). I'm planning to put Anna in the day care at her school two days a week so I get a larger chunk of time where I can get things done, but I need to wait a few weeks til I can afford it better. I need to make sure to make more plans with friends.

All the while there's a little voice in my head, tapping me on the shoulder and shaking its head at me. Give yourself a little credit, you moron, it says. School only started a week ago. You don't need to have everything set up and smoothly flying in only a week. Cut yourself some slack, stupid. And remember? You originally gave yourself through September to get used to the transition before attacking all those job/income/changes things. You're not overdue yet.


Right. I gotta remember that voice a bit better. Just because I used to be someone who got things done promptly and efficiently before Charley died--when I was WORKING full-time, had full-time daycare, a co-parent to help, a comfortable income, an easy baby (and not an older child who requires more time, care, and attention), and didn't have to shoulder absolutely everything every hour of every day--doesn't mean that I should expect that to be my "normal" and benchmark now. Argh. Right.

One very happy surprise these past few weeks is that I've had a lot of interest and initial contact from people on Facebook--friends I haven't seen in years, mostly--asking if they can hire me for photo shoots. After getting back from vacation just under a month ago, I'd posted a number of pictures that I'd taken of Anna over the summer...and without me saying anything, advertising myself, or doing anything official, people wanted to hire me...and more importantly for right now, pay me to do it.

I've been doing a lot of research, homework, and preparation these past four months about setting up a photography business, ever since I finally hatched the idea to try to start earning some money from it in late April. At the time, I was aware that the eventual success or fruition of my dream didn't matter nearly as much as simply having it as a distraction to help me make it through the summer and not totally freak out over the fact that I had no idea what I was going to do about work and getting an income again. I was super excited about the venture at the outset, but I quickly realized the wisdom in taking it slower and giving myself a hall pass throughout the summer. I certainly didn't need any potential craziness or mind games from a new business venture muddying up any potential grief this summer, and vice versa.

But the wedding I photographed over Labor Day went great and I did two family photo sessions with a few friends that same weekend too. The photos turned out well and it was a great confidence boost. (Maybe I really can do this professionally, I'm admitting to myself; it's not just that Anna's easy and I have a nice camera. ;o)) I have another photo shoot with an old friend/acquaintance from Intel this coming weekend, and a few other sessions coming up in the next month or two. And considering that I don't actually have everything 100 percent set up and ready yet and these weren't people who already knew I was planning to open up the photography doors professionally, I'm thrilled. I don't see how photography could ever viably support our single-parent and single-income family, but even doing it as a small side gig a few times a month excites me far more than going back to a traditional, full-time tech writing job. (Perhaps another reason why the thought of going back to work depresses me a little?)

I created a first blog to go along with the new professional venture. If you want to check it out or follow it, it's at http://ccphotopdx.com/. (Yes, I was a bit of a traitor and defected to Wordpress for it. ;o)) There's a link to it on my left sidebar too.

So a week into our New Life 3.0 (or is it more like 5.0? I've lost track), I'm a mixed bag. Some of it's great, some of it's less straightforward. But that's where we're at for now.

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P.S....Oh, and I almost forgot! Anna's birthday was remarkably nice and uneventful this year. Having the wedding the day of her birthday was a fabulous distraction, it turns out. I had a ton of stuff to do before the weekend to prepare for the wedding, so I didn't have the time to start self-imploding like in years past about her birthday, and then I spent the entire weekend of her birthday busy, busy, busy and surrounded by people. We had a lovely weekend at Charley's parents' house, too.

Then we had her family birthday party at home last Saturday too. (I still have to shake my head at how a "small," nonfancy family party still equates to 22 people, minimum.) We just had it at home, with only cake, presents, some easy snacks, and lots of visiting and cousins playing. My side of the family ended up staying until ridiculously late (as in 11:30 pm for some of them) and we got pizza to bring home for dinner, like we usually do. I actually cleaned my house for the party--don't drop dead, anyone (I'd feel bad!)--which is something I haven't bothered to do for family functions in ages. And funny thing. It was nice to see my house cleaned up and sparkly. [Giggle. =)] Okay, so I was leaving the house to pick up the cake and buy the snacks at the time when the party was supposed to be starting, and I got back to my house about 20 minutes after people finally started arriving, but hey. It's family. Many of them have a key and most of them run really late anyway.

Sometimes I wonder if I subconsciously and intentionally don't have the party all set up to go early. Having people help me set up stuff when they arrive is more enjoyable and easier for me, and it usually means that I don't have time to unravel, miss Charley, get wonky, etc. ahead of time, as I'm preparing for a celebration alone.

Regardless of whether it's by design, though, I ended up having a wonderful time and Anna did too.

Hooray. We survived birthday #6 without her dad. Again. And even had a nice time this year too, with no self-implosion or crankiness on or in the week leading up to the day or party.

Woohoo!