Privacy

Several months ago I decided to put restrictions on who could see my kids' photos on flickr. Through time I became somewhat lax with this, but I've decided I needed to be more diligent about it again. So that means that you will probably not be able to see these photos in the thumbnails up above unless you have a flickr account and I've given you permission to view these particular photos. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's best to be safe than sorry. Of course, there are some photos that go beyond just merely recording day-to-day happenings, such as this recent one of the Baby:


To me, anyway, the tones came out wonderfully, as did the catchlights in her eyes. And she really was deep in thought about something... I wonder what?

Anyway, I guess this is just a heads up to those of you who might look at the photos every so often, in case you wonder why I stopped posting photos of the kids. They're there, just under lock and key. :)

On a happy note, I have a wedding booked this August... someone who actually found me on flickr! I am meeting with her and her fiance next week and hoping to book an engagement session. Why anyone would want to get married in August is beyond me, but perhaps by then (and after a few trips to Florida) I will have re-acclimated to the heat and humidity.

As far as my future goes, I think it would be downright stupid to do anything other than photography. I have the passion (and the gear!) for it, so why not? So perhaps this latest client coming along is a sign that I need to get off my bum and start promoting myself, something which I never fully pursued.

Of course, now I have this aching desire to redesign my website, complete with a new logo and watermark. *sigh*

Repose.

Right now the only thing I hear is the hum of the small fan in my laptop. The kids are away with their dad. Finally, some peace and quiet. Though last night the stillness was almost deafening, only broken by the sizzling sounds of garlic and onions on the stove, followed by tofu, yellow squash, broccoli, carrots. Finally contentment. There's nothing like being hungry in an empty house.

I rarely go to the gym on Friday, but last night I made an effort to be there so that I could attend the yoga class. I'm not the yoga type. I think I grow too antsy sitting still, for it's an unnatural state for a mom. But the class was wonderful. Relaxing and fulfilling. The instructor mentioned that she just had a baby 4 weeks prior and that he will be her only baby since she is already 37 years old. She didn't look the least bit post partum. Or 37 for that matter. And she credits yoga and water. Sounds easy enough for me.

Today I commited to a whole morning at the gym. This is something I never try to do because I would much rather sleep in. And if the kids are with me I'd still much rather sleep in and then sit around lazily sipping a cup of coffee. But I decided days ago this is what I was going to do, so there I was at the 8:45 a.m. step aerobics class, yawning, and yawning, and yawning. Followed by weight training, yawning between sets. Followed by yoga, which involved too many inhales and exhales to allow for any yawning. I felt such a sense of accomplishment, but now that the clock reads 7:23 p.m., I'm ready for bed.

But the night is young and I'm in the mood for sushi.

I forgot to mention, I did a bit of shopping last night, having broken my umpteenth pair of sunglasses. I found a new pair for $9.99. And a wonderful summer dress for $11.

So a weekend of exercise, naps, shopping... with sushi and a martini in the near future. I'd say this was a perfect weekend indeed.

Now back to vacuuming -- with the iPod fired up, of course.

And there you have the most relaxed blog entry I've ever written. Ever.

Staying positive.

I'm trying to keep the tone of this blog upbeat and positive. Though I refuse to delete anything I write that might be negative (because then how "honest" is that as far as documenting my day-to-day), it's probably a good idea to spread some sunshine every so often.

Yesterday. It was actually a really good day. To be honest, it was the first good day in a while. There were the usual mishaps and hiccups but I just rolled with it all. I took the younger two with me to the gym, then hit Target, then made macaroni and cheese for lunch. So imagine the miles of smiles with those small but effective treats.

In the evening I decided to bite the bullet and take a dance class at the gym, which is completely out of my comfort zone. It's one thing to lift weights or do step aerobics or jump around in an athletic conditioning class - all set to music though what we do in those classes hardly counts as dancing. But last night was an all out hip-hop groovy show-some-attitude dance class. Thank goodness it was held in the room without wall to wall mirrors, otherwise I would have gotten too self conscious.

At that point - the late afternoon - I was starting to feel that bit of achy stress in my stomach, which tends to be the norm when dealing with certain people. But the dance class put me in a better mood. Which comes to show that cranking up the music at home and bouncing around to your heart's content can probably put a happy spin on anyone's day.

And a positive blog entry every so often helps too.

Just so I know.

The kids are doing wonderfully. Sure they bicker and fight. The youngest has tantrums. But this is no different than other children. They're thriving. They're normal.

The Bruiser is going to be starting pre-K in the fall. I still have to find a school to enroll him in since there is no pre-kindergarten program at the school his older sister attends. There has always been this weird concern regarding his development, and it's no wonder, having to follow someone like his sister. She always seemed mature beyond her years, especially as a toddler. Yet time and time again, every pediatrician has told me that the Bruiser is totally normal. The behaviors he exhibited - delayed speech being the biggest concern - is typical of the second child, I was told, especially if the older sibling is talkative and is constantly answering for him. Such is the case with the Princess and the Bruiser.

Well, now I feel like I'm pleading my case. That I have to write all of this out in order to prove to whoever (whomever?) that I'm doing a good enough job with my son. I see how he is, the way he interacts with his sisters and with other children, and he is a totally normal kid.

He is interested in cars and superheroes. Loves the color black. He doesn't like to sit and draw or color, but would sit in a pile of Legos and build space ships, all perfectly symmetrical. He has proven himself to be the type of kid who won't answer questions on cue like his big sister would, even though he knows the answer.

He's a smart kid, and I'm not just saying this because I'm his mother. If I thought otherwise, I would have gone through extra measures to make sure he had everything he needed to catch up to other kids his age. Just because he isn't just like his older sibling doesn't mean he's stupid or slow. It's so important to recognize his differences - and with that his strengths.

I'm not going to let anyone tell me otherwise. Reason being, I had people telling me the same thing when the Princess was 3-4 years old. Oh, she needs to be enrolled in this or that. Blah blah blah. So I went with it, and I honestly don't think any of it made a huge difference other than giving her something fun to do that required less effort on my part.

Anyway, I feel like I am repeating myself. I just felt the need to document this here. I'm not concerned about my son because I know he's just fine. As are his sisters. Anyone else wouldn't know any better unless they spent more time with them.

It's probably a natural inclination for certain people to question everything about me, including my ability to raise my children. In this instance I can say with confidence that these people are wrong.

Where to begin.

Well, I'm supposed to be jobhunting now. Actually I should have been doing this all along, given the particular path I chose to take. Not that I am just making excuses because I don't feel like getting off my ass, but I don't even know where to begin. I know I probably should have had this figured out long ago, just like most people have their lives mapped out properly.

I'll tell you one thing. If I could do it all again, I would have never left the workforce to be a full time parent. I know people will probably chastise me for saying this, and it's pointless anyway since the present is the way it is and there is nothing I can do to change whatever decisions I've made in the past. But at this phase in my life I don't see how being a sahm benefits anyone.

People have told me it is a big sacrifice. And it is, no doubt, even though there are some people who are quick to say that I've chosen the easier option by being a stay at home mom. Geez, if they only knew. Imagine having a full time job that you don't leave at the end of the day. One that you are tied to physically, mentally, and emotionally. And one that you can never quit, yet one that may leave you constantly second guessing yourself, especially in the early years. On the most frustrating of days, you have to do everything you can to hold it together. There are no siestas or lunch breaks, unless you can somehow swing simulataneous naptimes. And there are no sick days.

But now I have to switch gears. Or rather, stay on the same track but somehow eke out a little bit more time and energy to do something that will keep us financially afloat. I have a degree. Some work experience. So this should be a no brainer. Or so I'm told. Perhaps I just don't have enough faith in myself, for the last time I went job hunting, it became more of a full time struggle to just find something, because I moved to Chicago with no job, no money, and had to jump from one relative's house to another in order to have a roof over my head.

And now. More than ten years later, I am pretty much back to square one, but with more responsibilities to juggle. Well, I know what I will be telling my children when they head off to college. It is sad to say that they need to prepare themselves for the inevitable based on statistics. But aside from that, having financial independence is empowering, especially for a woman. And if that is what my children end up with when they are my age so that they never have to worry about how they will pay their bills and at the same time have the freedom to make their own decisions, then at least I know I've done something right.

I would hate to think that they will ever have to go through any of this bullshit.

Mom

At this moment I'm in Florida, having enjoyed a week and a half sans kids. There was a time long ago when I would have scoffed at the idea of going on vacation without my kids but I am now realizing how important it is to have this time to think, relax, and have real life conversations with adults, completely uninterrupted. It's an odd feeling, not having my days revolve around my kids' days. But I'm ready to head back to the swing of things.

As with every time away (with or without kids), I always start off with the best of intentions. I'll eat well. Exercise every day. Wake with the sunrise and go to bed at a reasonable hour. Yeah right, she typed... as the clock strikes 2 a.m.

I'm a bit askew, physically and mentally.

But this was the first time in YEARS that I've been able to spend time with my parents. We went to Target. We went out to eat. We sat around and watched all the political shtuff on the tv. All amid peace and quiet.

Granted the time away started off waaaaay in Southern California, packing up an ABF trailer in preparation for the long haul cross country to Florida. Fortunately, in the 11th hour my parents decided to hire someone else to drive the stuff to its final destination... which of course meant some R&R with some flickr folks before my departure. :)

It just figures, however, that my mom won't stop telling me, "I look at you and all I can think about are your kids. Oh how I miss them!"

Okay, so I guess that means I won't be welcome back here unless I have at least one child with me. I've already been invited to spend the whole entire summer here. And I would probably do it if not for my undying love for the gym I go to back in NC. And who am I kidding, no amount of exercise can possibly balance out the foodfest that goes on whenever I'm here.

But we'll see. It's tempting.

A big purge

Actually, I probably let go of this a long time ago, but after piecing together some things, I realized I should have listened to reason and let go in the beginning. A real friend is not supposed to make you feel like scum just because he or she doesn't agree with you. A real friend doesn't gossip about you to people you don't know. A real friend will be around through thick or thin, and will always take the high road when dealing with issues.

This person hasn't been a real friend for a long time. And I just came to realize that this person was going through pretty much the same exact issues I was facing nearly two years ago, yet she kept it all to herself, at times making me feel like dirt because of my decisions, causing me to second guess myself time and time again.

What I wonder is: if this person were a true friend, how could she keep all of her own issues to herself when I was always honest and open with her?

She was always that type who talked about people. Who would make herself invisible in IM so that she didn't have to be friendly to people who annoyed her. She seemed friendly enough when interacting, only to turn and roll her eyes in digust. Yet, she would continue these sorts of relationships with people, though I have no idea why. Doesn't it take more energy to be so negative and poisonous?

Perhaps I was the idiot here. For when she was friends with me, I never thought twice about her behavior. I couldn't understand why she had to tell me personal bits of information about people. About so-and-so's odd sex life, or so-and-so's vacectomy, or so-and-so's relationship woes. These are people I knew of but didn't speak to, so perhaps she thought it was harmless to gossip about them to me.

But who would have thought that I would be that person. The one who she hid from in IM. Or worst yet, the one she'd talk about to other people. And what did I ever do to deserve that sort of treatment? I never told her secrets to anyone. I always tried to be there as a friend, and when I couldn't it was because I had my own problems to deal with. A real friend would understand that. Or at least that's what I would do.

Most people don't behave with malicious intent. I'd like to believe that things just happen to them with every day life and they'll be back when they're ready. I never thought anyone I know would purposely avoid talking to me, or worst yet, talk about me behind my back.

But I guess there are some people out there who are just plain jaded. They are miserable and expect the world to revolve around them. Why? Perhaps they don't get the attention they need from their own immediate family. I can easily feel sorry for someone who must be that lonely. But I don't understand the bitchiness that emerges from this. I don't understand how someone can be cruel. And really, just plain rude.

The end result is a clear indication of who is wrong, in my opinion. The person who has no friends, noone to turn to in times of need, is the one who should be questioned.

I'd like to think I'm just a normal gal who went through a rough spot at one time. Despite this, I never treated people differently. I don't try to be someone I'm not. I doubt this person will ever admit she has hurt anyone. But sadly, that sort of poison is left for other people who can stomach it. Life is too short to waste one's time on such misery.