Conundrum

I haven't written about it because I don't really know what to say, but we're in a bit of flux around here, with J's career change and return to school and my return to work and the kids at school (yes, since September - none of this is news at this point, I know). I would have thought the flux would have subsided by now, but we have yet to fully settle into a routine (a side effect of 2.5 year olds and changing semester schedules, I think) and we're already caught up in the flux about next year -- J is applying to schools (he's doing some general stuff now, but will need to transfer to finish up this degree change) and one possibility involves a move 3 hours away to City Where I Grew Up, but meanwhile, and this is what I'm on about today, we have to make decisions about the kids and preschool and somehow some of this ties in to decisions about Kindergarten and I know they're getting older but still, they're just 2 and a half. And then I spin myself into a tizzy and have to catch my breath. So, some points:

1. We're taking the kids for developmental evals at the end of the month, because they're free and because B is a bit, um, atypical in some of his social development. The guest speakers at my moms of twins club meeting this month were a language specialist and an occupational therapist, and based on some things they said and the experiences of another mom in the club, it sounds like B might have some sensory integration issues and we could be doing more to help him manage them. So that's thing #1.

2. I mentioned the above to the preschool teacher, who has noted B's behavior in the past, and she was thrilled that we were getting him evaluated and went on about her own son's experiences with OT and how it helped. I knew there were some similarities, but I think she's also seeing B through the lens of her experience with her son, which is both useful and not.

3. It's summer enrollment time at the school, and we may try separating the kids - just for the summer - to see how that works. B would remain with the younger 2s in their current class, and M would move to the next oldest class. They'd each still have some kids they already know in the class, and some new. They'd also still have a lot of together time since the two classes overlap on their outdoor time. Not sure yet what we'd do for fall - this is a whole huge issue that has a bit to do with whether we're expecting them to start kindergarten (which I keep starting to type as preschool because I'm not even familiar with the K word!) at a young age 5 (they have a late-July birthday) or at a young age 6. The preschool has 4 classes, and the last functions as a pre-K, so there's a desire to make sure they get that experience at the right point. Because it's a small school, our only option for keeping them separated in the Fall would be for B to move to M's summer class and M to move to the next class (the 3rd "level", though not a full year's leap in age) - legitimate from an age perspective, but potentially setting them up to be in different grades, which is not something I want to consider. Or they spend the summer separate but then end up in the same class again come Fall.

I can't believe that I have to start thinking about their Kindergarten readiness at this point, and I can't even do that obsessive thing where I start researching the local schools because even if we stay where we are for J's next round of schooling, chances are VERY high that we'd be moving before Kindergarten anyway. And if we're going to keep the kids together, which way do we go -- do we start them early because M would likely be ready at 5 or wait to be sure B is ready at 6? (Probably the latter, but both are strong cognitively and I don't want them to be bored or not sufficiently challenged because we're judging their 5 year old selves at age 2. If that makes sense.)

And of course, the school needs to know - probably today - how we want to handle summer enrollments.

Gah. Once I start writing it out, it seems to get more complicated. And while my local moms of twins club is nice, we seem to lose members as their kids reach school age, so I don't have a lot of any personal reference points on things like separating twins or navigating gender-related developmental differences. Our details are specific, but the general questions shouldn't be unique. And yet, I'm feeling like I don't have any models for this. Anyone?

Comments and community

Thalia's recent post about keeping up with blogs has me thinking, so rather than hijack her comments, I thought I'd move this here.

I've been reading without commenting for months now, because it's all I can do to keep up through Bloglines (and even then, I have over 500 unread posts in my queue right now - though some are from review sites and the like), but it takes more time and energy and focus than I usually feel I can muster to actually click through and come up with something useful to say in response. And then I think how that makes blogs one directional, and how one of the things I value about the blogworld is the conversation and support and communication... which is to say I think I need to break out of my bubble and get back to commenting rather than lurking. By the same token, I've slowly been unsubbing from some of the (bigger) blogs where I never really felt like part of a community so much as a flock - where I never really commented much anyway. (And by *some* blogs I mean one or two so far - it's hard to stop following someone's story.)

I haven't been posting either, obviously. We've had a whole confluence of circumstances combined with what is probably a bit of low-level depression and a ton of projects and huge life changes and I've barely managed to keep my head above water. But I'm hoping the tide is changing, and one of the things I really WANT to do is get back to blogging and participating in a bit of a blogging community - for fun and for sanity. I make no sweeping claims, since I hate setting myself up like that (see how well I did with the Moxie challenge?) but for myself, I think I'm going to try. It might mean reinventing my blog identity, or changing how I think about blogging, or commenting, or something. It's a process, and I'm only beginning.

Take yourself seriously

Moxie is running a 60-day Take Yourself Seriously Challenge, and I'm trying my best to join. The premise is to choose three things you want to work on and commit to them for 60 days. I didn't read all of the comments, but it looked like a lot of people were (1) reducing their intake of high fructose corn syrup, (2) drinking more water, and (3) trying to have more sex. Yes, really. I'm sure J would like it if I added that last one to the list, but for now it's a much lower priority. Although, what does that say about the state of our marriage? I'll have to think about that. Anyway...

There are so many things I think I want to tackle, and then I get overwhelmed at the enormity of it all and accomplish nothing. So I'm trying to make these goals do-able to have a taste of success (I hope) and then add in additional goals in the NEXT 60 days (or whenever).

1. Start T-Tapp and do it regularly. I think that means a 4 day bootcamp and then every other day, but since I haven't started yet I'm not sure what schedule will end up working. But STARTING is the big thing.

2. Be more present with my kids more often. It's so easy for me to get caught up on the computer and just watch over them, rather than sitting down and being fully present. They're at a fabulous age and I don't want to miss it.

3. Get to bed earlier. Work on this bit by bit - I don't think we'll be able to change the habits we've slipped into overnight (ha ha), but bit by bit, work back to getting to bed by 10:30.

For future (so I don't forget):
- more veggies. Husband and kids are not so keen on them, so it's easy to let it slip by.
- focus on dissertation writing. Advisor is somewhat too relaxed, so motivation must all come from self. Motivation seems to have disappeared with arrival (19 months ago) of babies.
- reclaim my office. Which might help with the dissertation writing.
- get off the computer. Hey, wait, I think I'll try that now.

Progress on the self-front (pathetic navel-gazing below)

I got my hair cut and colored. Make it funky, I told the stylist. I feel frumpy. So far so good, though I have yet to really test the wash and wear-ability, and since that’s what I have time for most days, that’s the ultimate test. But the color is purrrty. And the time spent reading People magazine at the salon was decadent, too.

Not so sure about clothing or body changes, yet. I have the T-Tapp book, but am waiting on the video because the descriptions are so complex I can’t get through the workout. I’m trying not to be daunted by this. Clothing-wise, I went and bought a new pair of jeans, since my one remaining pair that fits now sports a very trashy rip in the crotch. So sexy. So put together. So not. The new jeans were not the size I’d hoped, but it seemed worth the temporary investment in clothing that fit. Except that the first time I wore them they stretched out so far that they were falling down. Which should have made me feel thinner, but mostly just made me feel like buying cheap jeans was a big waste of time. So I’m back to having no jeans that fit. Speaking of which, in response to the comments on the last such navel-gazing post, I’d love to wear some of my formerly cute clothes except that (a) I wasn’t all that cute or trendy before, either, and (b) they don’t really fit. The “THIS is what a feminist looks like” shirt, for example, was skin tight 4 years ago, and if I knew where it was I still couldn’t wear it. Sad, no?

The kids are sick again. So am I. Just what we needed on a rainy week. My MIL seems to think that if we were sleeping better we wouldn’t be getting sick. I had to bite my tongue a little bit to keep from snapping at her. She means well, but really her commentary on our sleeping situation is not remotely needed. And actually, in the brief lull between the last cold and this one, I thought our sleep was working pretty well. M made it all night, or almost all night, in her crib - coming to bed with us at 5 or 6 am to nurse. B was waking between 11 and 2, coming to bed, nursing, and then sleeping peacefully. It was only a struggle when they were both in bed, struggling for the apparently prime real estate near my right armpit. Or, in M’s case some of the time, staying latched for hours. Ow. But otherwise, our sleep was fine. Really. Bizarrely, even in the midst of this nasty bug, we’re sleeping relatively okay. Bringing them to bed means I get more rest than I would if I was trying to get them settled in their cribs a million times. Not right for everyone, but for now it’s working.

I have no idea where they got this latest cold. I would have blamed the very cute but totally germ-ridden kids play area at the local coffee/play place (a very cool thing, germs notwithstanding) but the timing doesn’t seem right. They might have picked it up at the preschool we took them to visit last week (they played on the playground with the grandparents while we toured classrooms). Everyone knows preschools are hotbeds of infection. Right? So why am I thinking about putting them in school next year? More on that soon.

It’s taken me a week to write this, so clearly I need to devote a little bit more time to me, and to the cheap therapy of blogging. And I should just hit publish - editing be damned.

Identity Crisis

Once upon a time, I had an identity other than mother. And it showed. Once upon a time, you could tell by looking at me, that I had opinions, that I was not “mainstream.” Once upon a time, I was funky, cool, interesting. And it showed.*

And now? I have a politically liberal bumpersticker on my suburban-mom-mobile. But otherwise? I look like a mom. Which is not to say that I’m not hugely tremendously earth shatteringly thrilled to be a mom. But. I am more than a mom.

I am working in a new neighborhood bakery/cafe. I am sitting near a guy wearing a political shirt, with a folder covered in stickers, and more on his computer. And I show no outward signs that I agree, that my politics align, that I am more like him than he probably suspects.

When I used to mentor the undergraduate feminist group at the university, they made T-shirts that said “THIS is what a feminist looks like” - and some of them wore them skin tight, cropped, over snug fitting low rise jeans. Broadcasting. Challenging.

I don’t know if what I’m wishing is to change how I look - I feel dowdy, and old, and while I love being a mom, I think maybe I wish I didn’t look like one all the time, even when I’m sitting in a coffeeshop working. I suppose I should instead think about how to challenge the notion that how people look has any bearing on who they are or how they think. That would be the noble thing, right?

But still. I think I need a funky makeover. I want to broadcast that I am a mom, and I am a feminist, and I am still funky inside.

How about you? Do you think your outisde reflects your inside? Am I being totally trivial? Is it lame that I’m asking questions here? Fess up.

* Okay, no, having red or purple hair or an eyebrow piercing does not inherently mean anything about one’s personality or politics. But still.

This thing we do, here

Mommyblogging, or whatever it is I do now, is hard. When I was writing about infertility, it seemed more like a story, with at least some semblance of a beginning, a middle, and an end. I didn't start writing until the middle, but I backed up to tell the beginning, and clearly I ended up with a happy ending. But writing about mothering, or within mothering, somehow seems harder. Maybe in the beginning of a story you don't yet recognize it as a story and so you can't really think about it as such until at least the middle, if not the end? Or maybe day to day life is a series of small stories, not a big one. Or maybe I'm so caught up in the tremendous importance of the story, and in feeling like I have the power to control it (as delusional as that may be) that I can't even start. Whatever it is, I've been blogging a lot less than I'd like. I feel like either I need to give it up or I need to give it more. So I'm going to try more.

I've also been teetering on the edge of a rather unpleasant fog of depression, which probably has something to do with my inability to focus, or to put words to paper (er, fingers to keyboard?). And at the moment, we're all sick, which doesn't help matters. But there's more to it than just that, I think. I'm just not sure what.

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Sweet moments of baby sickness:

Sadly, neither kid really knows how to blow their noses. (When do they learn that, anyway? It's tremendously useful.) But, after watching me snuffle and snort into tissues, B can now pretend to blow his nose - he'll hold the tissue to his nose, then make a snuffly nose-blowing sound with his mouth. Weird, but bizarrely cute.