Ugly boots

 They're kind of like moon boots, but with less structure if that is possible. They're my "no one is out" dog-walking boots, for early mornings or late nights. I usually wear them barefoot, which is part of the whole problem of having to wear them at all during daylight hours.

Not much choice for the rest of the outfit when the footwear has already given up.

We're sort of at our limit, again, it seems. M is going for knee surgery soon because, remember that last post about the skiing? Well, he did, and then suddenly didn't and now blood thinner injections, crutches, braces, surgery, and 3 more months of recovery. Probably at least 2 months until he can walk around holding the little one. So, I'm tired right now. And that isn't going to stop anytime soon.

I go to sleep within 30 min. of the kids. the days of wanton TV watching until 10pm are gone. I have baby J every night now and he's got some illness or another every night now, so he's waking up a lot. If i get to bed when he does, I have a chance of getting the sleep I need. My husband and I don't see each other so very much these days.

And the times I try to do one thing for fun (or for moving), don't go all that well either. I went down to the basement a few days ago. Oh, yesterday. Whatever. Anyway, I went barefoot. Because I don't like socks on my feet at home and I didn't want to put them on. I went to get all the old kids' clothing that it is time to sell or donate. Lots of bags and boxes. Some baby bathtubs, some other stuff. And on my way back to the elevator, dragging various boxes through the firedoor way, guess what up and tried its best to close, over my pinky toe?

So, I'm wearing the ugliest footwear I own and pretending that I didn't break my toe even though it hurts like a swamprat. But I sort of don't have time for a broken toe this week. And it hurts only about half as much as the last time, 8 years ago, when I went to the emergency room to be told that I hadn't actually broken this same pinky toe. So I think my chances are pretty good. And if the weather can get a bit warmer, I can just switch to wearing flipflops in the cold spring days instead of these things.

Here's hoping!

I'm tired now. I'm going to go and stare at my computer screen some more.

That funky ski-boots walk.

I'm jealous.

I'm surrounded by mountains and quaint chalets, huge flakes of snow falling on already fallen feet of snow, quiet, pine trees, and whisper-loud gondolas cross my field of view, one every 10 seconds, a few skiers in each. Skiers ski down to just where my son and I have stopped, to play with the holiday village's vast array of tractors and trucks, and do that funky ski boots walk past us. Or below us to store their skis in the garage under the building. Or fly up the mountain, ready to fly down it.

And I'm jealous. I'm sad that we arrived 6 years ago in Switzerland with my husband's bum knee and my just-about-to-herniate disk. That one of the best things about this country - the fact that even my 6 year old is excited and happy about skiing, confident, already wondering where we'll ski when we move back to America - is the ubiquitous downhill skiing, and we're ill-equipped to take part.

I've been skiing many times in my life, but I was younger then and had never had to lie in a bed for the better part of 2 months with nerve and muscle pain filling my days should I move from my one safe position. I could try to strengthen my core enough to try skiing but if it isn't enough, the risk is too great. Two small kids, a dog, a job. I can't risk more time off than I already have to take for daycare flu and cold season. My body just can't handle skiing anymore. And that makes me jealous of all those couples, singles, families funky-walking past me. The college students that leave my apartment building in the city with their ski boots on and go the 5 min. to the train station and up to a slope for the day. The sales on boots, skis, gloves, helmets, jackets. It makes me sad. I can't go down a slope with my daughter who has just learned to fall in love with doing so.

So while school ski holidays this year (two weeks for going off skiing with your kids, of course) found me in a mountain village, watching snow fall, it also found me longing to be having the argument with my spouse about who could go skiing that day with my daughter. Even he shouldn't have (he busted his bad knee again), but it was probably less of a risk for him than for me.

I wish I was younger and stronger and my daughter and I could enjoy this together. But we can't. I'm going to have to deal with that.

And hope for one day of good enough weather and snow that I can go cross-country. For an hour or two, just to be able to say I went skiing while I lived here.

I suck at my job

I really do.

Sure, I have the gender equity and science education background to do my job. But I'm not an organizer, and I'm supposed to be. I work alone a lot. And although I'm an introvert, I get my energy and focus from interactions with a few key people in a job.

When I sew, I do it at the 75% level - all the seams inside are left raw. Sometimes the edges that you don't see aren't matched. If I can wear it out of the house (the house that is also done at about the 75% level), I consider it done.

And so, I make a kind of crap coordinator. I make a great ideas person. But please don't trust me with your budget or your meeting schedule. I'm easily distracted.

So I feel kind of bad about my job, too. And I wonder what kind of job I should look for next time, so that I don't spend so much of my time being bad at it.

Maybe I can take a quiz for that.

I get that I can't have a job I love all the hours I work it, but honestly, I'd probably pitch myself more at filing or delivering mail (closed ended tasks that don't involve phone calls) for that part. It is boring but I can do it. And now that I have small kids, I'd probably actually find it meditative - like I do with dishes (I get it now...a break from thinking and a feeling of completion without having to send the dishes into time-out).

Still, I have good ideas for the ideas part of my job. So for now I'll stay doing it, and do my best to swallow my pride every time I'm failing at all the little organizational stuff. And send off my missives about power and abuse of power. And forget to file my travel receipts. And what this week's meeting was supposed to be about.

My dog on the other hand, does not suck at her job. Actually she more licks at it. Ahem.