Friday, April 29, 2011

You don't do it because you like it, do you?

Hey, Mr. Yeah, you with the yellow and black color coordinated running shirt, shoes and shorts. You know how you just appeared out of nowhere on my foggy morning walk with the dog? And the pupper was off-leash in a part of the walk where that is completely ok, even with you Swiss? And she came up to you and wagged her tail and was all excited because, um hello, you just ran towards her out of nowhere! Poof! Of course she's going to get excited and maybe just a bit cautious.

And you had that pissed-off look on your face as I tried to calmly call her back, so you would know from the tone of my voice that she's totally harmless?

I realized, as I tried to quell all the shame I feel whenever something like this happens to me, even though it isn't my fault or responsibility, that you probably hate either dogs or running. I mean, I didn't do anything even close to wrong. And that look on your face tells me that even though M hates whenever he sees you and all your running buddies that are out early New Year's Day, and other inappropriate, inhuman moments, tells me that you do this as some sort of self-punishment. Or, you hate dogs and hate that I saw your reaction. Or both.

Anyway, I've decided to just let it go, because I had a lovely walk through a foggy morning and, apart from a grumpy runner who I had every reason to scream at the sudden appearance of, I did nothing wrong. Chalk up another one on the "things that are not my fault list."

Oh yes, the hats at the royal wedding are pretty sweet.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Not taking a photo is the whole point

I just finished reading "Cinderella Ate My Daughter", a book by Peggy Orenstein. Fast read, about the Disney princess culture and its effect on girls. Not the best book I've read, but she makes some interesting points. About how Disney tapped into the developmental stage where kids are worried that their sex (boy or girl) might be fluid, changeable, and try to assure they stay who they are by being as masculine or feminine as possible. For girls, enter the pink princess stage. Orenstein also talks about the Disney live princesses, like Miley Cyrus or Brittney Spears, who all seem to follow the innocent/virginal to skanky/centerfold route.

In the end, the author doesn't do much in the way of suggestions for boosting girls' self-esteem and helping them value themselves separate from their looks. She gives a few suggestions, like telling your daughter she's beautiful when she's covered in dirt and in her soccer uniform, and not talking about looks too much. And not obsessing about your own looks in front of her - although, I'd say even in private, learn to like who you see in the mirror, because kids pick up on everything. They do as we do, not as we say. If you don't feel worthy deep down inside, your kid is going to learn that - they are learning machines, these little humans.

Anyway, the bit from the book that is in my mind this morning is the part where the author talks about virtual identities and presence. And almost as a side note, she mentions how people (herself, she has noticed) have started to delay experiences of the real world, instead thinking how they (she) will blog, tweet or update their status about them. So on the foggy dog walk this morning, I left my phone in my pocket and tried my best to just see the trees, feel the soaked grasses against my fingers, and be there while I was physically there.

It was nice. I don't do that very often. With baby A, I've noticed that I tend to only relax and muse on her photos after she's asleep, and I'm not actively responsible for her well-being. I can look at her, notice things, dwell. But I also do that with situations. For me there is a part of the behavior that I think has to do with the fear of being overwhelmed by being in the moment itself. If I let it take me over, within seconds, I will start to fear its end. If I get too caught up in rapture, the next thought on my mind will be to mourn its impending loss. So it is a safety mechanism for me.

Sure, I'd love to be in the moment. But I'm terrified it will sweep me away.

Friday, April 22, 2011

I highly doubt that

What makes for sleepless nights? I'm still coughing from my cold, so falling asleep is hard, but even so, actual sleepiness is hard to find tonight. Baby A also only found her sleep after 9:30pm. No weariness for M, either. We stayed up way way past our normal bedtime, until 11:30pm, watching half of Chocolat.

I remember last time I saw the movie how I suddenly wanted good chocolate. Really good chocolate. I think I went to the Godiva store at Park Mall in Tucson. I think I was disappointed. Or maybe it was just late at night and nothing but Walgreens was open. I just remember wanting chocolate like Vienne made in the movie. That would touch your soul through your senses. And then wanting to make chocolate like that.

Leave it to me to live in Switzerland now and see that film again on Good Friday. I don't celebrate Catholic holidays the same way anymore, but this country sure does close down all its stores for weekends like this. Except, tomorrow. Many stores will probably be closed, but I think that the chocolate shops might just be open. One last shopping day to Easter baskets.

The movie got me thinking about religion, as well. About doubting. About why it was such a horrible thing that Thomas doubted Jesus was going to rise from the dead. Like no man had ever done before, since people don't do that. In some way, wasn't the rising from the dead one of the first ways you could actually tell Jesus wasn't just human? So here's poor Thomas, just being rational, and he gets this horrible reputation. And the man even lays out his conditions for believing Jesus has risen, like a good scientific thinker would ("here's what would make me change my mind - fingers in wounds"), and somehow every sermon I've heard about him faults him for these things. Oh ha ha, that silly Thomas. Had to go and open his mouth and be all cocky. Anyway, whatever I do or don't think about Jesus, I still think Thomas sounds like a pretty good guy.

And tomorrow, I might just go in search of some soul-hugging chocolate. For now, I'll just try to forget about the chocolate and stop rethinking where else in this apartment I might have lost my phone. Maybe I'll finally fall asleep. Right after I sneak off to the fridge to have a go at those crispy M&Ms I bought a few days ago. Because, let's face it, chocolate that feeds your soul and chocolate that stops hunger so you can fall asleep...two completely different creatures.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Pass the Kleenex

I probably shouldn't be writing this right now. I'm sick, just a spring head cold, but my ears are plugged, my head is plugged, and doing anything more intellectually challenging than drinking from a cup is a struggle. But, I'm one of those women who feels like she isn't holding her own when she isn't actively doing something. I've written about this before, the not feeling like "enough," but it continues to amaze me how primal that urge is, to gain worth by what I do.

The dog has been napping with me all day, and apart from having free reign of the balcony, she has only gotten to go to the corner potty spot. I'll sit with her there for a while, let her smell the sights, but going up any hills is just not in the cards for me today.

And the babysitter picked up baby A from daycare and is with her now.

I've got a cup of tea in hopes that a theraflu drink with an English Breakfast chaser will help me at least get something done. Because I have to, right? Otherwise, my stock starts dropping. So I've made myself send a form to finish up to M, and I made some rhubarb, apple, pear, raisin, prune compote for the baby for her afternoon snack (actually, came out sweet enough with no added sugar), and watched her try to stuff both hands full of it into her mouth at once. And I'm back in bed, resting my slightly spinning head.

I'm not so sick that I couldn't do most daily things, but it would take it out of me. And right now my husband's job is enough. And all the other days I do a lot. So why does this make me so nervous?

Oh, and I've managed to lose my phone again. This time, I really hope, in the house. But the batteries are drained so even the "find my iPhone" app has let me down. I guess it is okay, because I can't spend so much time lamenting that I don't have the energy to go take a photo of all the shoes we came back from the US with and write something riveting about shoes and feet and all of that.

There is one thing that has made me feel like today's rest and extra help is okay. The babysitter relayed the message from the daycare that they think baby A might be into what they call the terrible three's stage. Well, I may be just able to keep a kid and dog alive and clean by myself right now, but a full blown tantrum from the little one today would have ended in her in a crib, the dog (and perhaps me, too) in a crate, and a lot of rocking back and forth until M came home. Thankfully, we have our babysitter, and that scene didn't have to play out today.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The bounty of American magazines

I love Utne Reader. And WIRED magazine, and BITCH magazine (big surprise, huh?). And I intend to enjoy every minute of Black & White Photography magazine, American Scholar magazine, and Philosophy Now magazine. And whatever other things I scooped off the rack at the Border's in Tucson last week. It was glorious, to have that much choice. And to imagine myself taking one of these periodicals with me on a tram or to the dining room window seat.

Ahhhh, a little slice of familiar. But also new.

So on my way into town yesterday I has Utne reader with me. I only read a few articles, hoping to save it for a few more trips. And one of them was about a study on increased depression and low-self esteem in kids who see more advertising. You see what you don't have, what appears to make all those glossy happy people so happy, and want it. You find yourself lacking.

And as I sit here checking out how my blonde highlights spray is working, wondering if I should have bought the red flip flops at Target, too, I think "how dumb." It isn't just kids - it is all of us. Okay, it is me. And I didn't really think how dumb.



I looked at all my catalogs. Did you even realized J. Peterman still existed?! I haven't gotten a catalog from them in over 15 years! And they are the worst. Not even photos in that catalog, but watercolor drawings, and stories about each piece. It will help you marry Prince William's brother, it will make you like that Out of Africa Movie, it will make you....a Mistress of Milan.

So I've decided that since I'd rather not need the anti-depressants for more than the essential life conditions, it is out with the catalogs, unsubscribe from all the Gap and Old Navy email lists, and I'm going on a shopping fast. Because according to CB2, even my balcony is hopelessly insufficient for the fun I'd like to have this summer. Think of it as a late lent, and I still get to eat chocolate whenever and meat on Fridays.

I've marked 40 days on my iPhone calendar, and no purchases for home or body decoration in that time. Just to take a break from all that encouragement to want to be more, better, different. I will stop shopping or even browsing.

Right after my trip to IKEA this afternoon. Hey, even dieters "start tomorrow."

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

I should probably check out that podcast

There is a new free podcast up from The Moth (a great series of storytelling, in short, 15-min segments that my cousin got me hooked on) from Salman Rushdie about writer's block. I should listen to it. I've been avoiding writing the last few days. The earlier two weeks, we were in the US, visiting family, having a naming ceremony for Baby A (non-religious, like we are), going back to Arizona for the first time in 2 years, and doing some shopping in Chicago.

At first, I told M that I couldn't go see our old house in AZ. I was afraid it would be too emotional, that I'd tear up just seeing it, thinking how much easier it would have been to spend Baby A's first years there. But I think we went at the right time, now that we're all feeling a lot better. We drove past the house, and I felt nothing. My things weren't in there, my car wasn't parked outside, my husband, baby and dog weren't there. I didn't even have that "what a great house that was!" reaction. We've moved, and I haven't had to worry about faulty electricals or a leaky roof for two years. That counts for something. Or a mold infestation under the kitchen floor. That really counts for something.

On the other hand, seeing friends play with, babysit, and make Baby A smile warmed my heart. And on a quieter level, made me a bit sad for not having realized what a huge help that community would have been these last few years. Not that I knew I'd need that much help when we decided to move. I guess that is the point. But until the visit I didn't realize what I'd really missed out on, how essential that support could have been. So thank you, Arizona people, for being so loving to my daughter for the short time we were there. I think she grew a few months' worth with all the smiles and hugs and attention.

I also did a bit more American shopping this trip. I'm finally realizing there are many things I like about the US and being American. And when I was replacing my Freitag bag (which has gone over to M to replace his stolen one), I went with Vy&Ellie and their billboard bag with the GM seatbelt clasp. Oh, yeah. And bought a new cheap cowboy hat at Target. Cause I'm American, dang it, and I might as well be my American self, living abroad. I'll get to smile more, say "hi" more often, and worry a lot less about how I look.

Phew. Finally started posting again.