February 22, 2021
Week 49 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 49, Day 338: We got scary news last night. Our cancer battling friend lost consciousness and had to be hospitalized. This morning, tests showed that their cancer has returned. This is too much. I really really really don’t want to lose another loved one.
***
Not sure what set it off but my pain flared so high today that I literally hurt from head to toe. Thankfully PiC didn’t have meetings so he was able to field the kids all day so I could rest. The rest helped enough so I could just do the bare minimum: eating, bathing, pumping milk.
***
JB closed the night with a long cry. We could hear them talking to Seamus about how much they miss him. We stayed with them for a while, commiserating.
Week 49, Day 339: I’d like to make a big photo book to commemorate our life with Seamus. We happened across MILK books several years ago. I had a Groupon for one of their classic books that I had to use by the time Doggle passed so I dedicated that to him. The end product was gorgeous even though we didn’t have great quality / resolution pictures to work with back then. It’ll be on the pricier side so I need to wait for another sale. I like that they let you prepay for a book to take advantage of a sale but I can’t accurately estimate how many pages I’ll need.
I have started organizing photos into a folder so I can design the book, then order it when their next sale comes up. There are A LOT of photos.
***
I get this sad empty feeling every time I see old blogs gone fallow. Or when I think of friendships gone quiet.
***
For the first time in months, only one of my hands was completely swollen when I woke up. Is this finally getting better?? (Since giving birth, they’ve both been wsoll
***
This is the first day that Smol Acrobat laughed at belly raspberries!! Up until now, they’ve only been startled and confused by them. I feel rewarded for my persistence.
Week 49, Day 340: I made chicken gyros for dinner and they were delicious! The dill-buttermilk sour cream really pulled the flavors together.
***
I had my Invisalign buttons applied? fixed? something today and it feels weird but not as weird as braces or a nightguard. I know it’s going to be sore soon but for now, I’m glad that it’s not quite so bad.
***
I played a game with Smol Acrobat and they seemed to grasp it enough to play along. I know they didn’t really, but it seemed like it and it was fun in the moment.
Week 49, Day 341: Last night’s sleep was non-existent and after a busy day yesterday, I desperately needed the rest I didn’t get. I managed to stay functional long enough for PiC to take some meetings and then crashed and burned for a few hours. This level of sleep deprivation has me really down in the dumps. I know it’ll pass but these moments are so hard.
***
Small habits: Two weeks ago, I asked JB to pay attention to capping their toothpaste and putting their toothbrush in the same place every time because I was tired of knocking the brush into the sink. It’s taken a reminder every single day but they finally did it twice in a row without a prompt! The habit may be starting to form!
***
I’m really anxious for our initial tax calculations to see what we owe after selling the rental last year. We’re just paying the capital gains on that sale because we never lived in the property. Living in it could have been part of the very long term plan only if we held it for 20+ years, it was never going to work out to live in it in the first 15 years of owning it. So we’re taking it on the chin instead of rolling it over with a 1031 exchange or living in it. I set aside a large portion of the sale money to cover the tax bill last year and we withheld 120% of our 2019 tax bill. Now all I can do is hope that I covered our bases sufficiently to have some cash left over. That’s my version of a tax refund this time around.
Week 49, Day 342: I just found out that two people I know, one of them a health care professional and the other one with a scientific background, neither of them with any reason to be suspicious of the medical establishment as some minorities do, declined the vaccine. Their relative has tried to talk to them about it, to no avail. I’m rather appalled, honestly.
Yes, I’m being judgy. I’m not speaking to them about it because it’s not like I would change their minds, but arrrghhhhh get the vaccine!
***
Answering the question of what I would do if I didn’t have to work for money, the parenting-leave version: Manage our investments, take care of the kids, read as many books as I can get my hands on, walk the dog, eat/cook/eat/cook/plan meals, yearn for sleep, manage our taxes, throw myself into charitable projects, therapy, attempt to exercise a little bit each day. I wonder what the not-infant version would look like.
:: How have you been this week? Have you started preparing your taxes and do you have any idea what they will look like?
February 15, 2021
Week 48 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 48, Day 331: I’m struck by a peculiar manifestation of (Asian mom?) parental guilt that tells me that I’ve had almost a year with JB at home and my inability to have spent this time teaching them everything about money, science, math, history, music, crafting and a slew of other things is a failure. I especially feel the failure to impart sufficient money philosophy and knowledge keenly. Perspective, I do not have it.
For one thing, hello pandemic. Also hello being pregnant much of that time. And then having an actual baby. Also hello working FT as well. Where exactly was this magical pocket of time with which I would have schooled them?
For another, they are just at the very start of school age. All the academics aren’t necessary right this very minute.
And yet I feel the sting of “why haven’t you taught them how to play piano yet?” and “why haven’t you taught them how to do origami yet?” and “why haven’t you taught them the scientific method yet?” as if all I’ve had since March 2020 was time on my hands. I can’t help feeling some comparison to my mom who managed to teach me how to read and write in another language at a very basic level while we were growing up even though she was working 12-15 hour days by a certain point. My memory is a little hazy though so perhaps the time she taught us and the time she started working such long hours didn’t actually overlap like I thought?
(more…)
February 8, 2021
Week 47 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 47, Day 326: Sometimes I forget that it’s been 326 days since I could see the human elements of my family out the door to their work and school respectively, then settle down to work with just my dogs. I miss that. My introvert soul is struggling with that lack of a break.
***
My Twitter folks and blog readers are the best. Those who are able shared the Giving Project, and those who are able contributed. Having this work has been a balm for my grieving soul, having some additional resources helps. I appreciate y’all deeply.
Week 47, Day 327: I don’t know if this is due to stress, lack of sleep, or PPD which I’ve been fighting but I haven’t been able to feel full for days. Weeks, even, possibly. I eat full relatively balanced meals but feel physically hollow afterward. It’s like I hadn’t eaten anything. It’s exasperating and I don’t even bother trying to eat enough to feel full anymore because it seems pointless. No matter how much I eat, I don’t feel any satiety so I’ve been walking around feeling hungry for ages. It’s gotten so that I am both hungry AND lack appetite at the same time. It’s weird and I don’t know what’s going on.
***
I spent hours working on more fulfilment for our Lakota Families. My grieving process demands that I do things. Helping people distracts and helps my feeling of loss.
(more…)
February 2, 2021
Week 46 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 46, Day 319: TFW it’s 2 am, you’re thinking it is about dang time to wrap up because you’re already on your second post bedtime wakeup cycle with the baby (need to change a diaper while they wail rigorously to express a deep despair and grief, nursing for 20-30 minutes plus another five after you lay them down and they holler with such insistence that they weren’t done yet mom I’m still starving and they reattach only to hang out casually like it’s the mall), and you look down to see eyes that are wide open. No thank you please.
I am not enjoying this particular overnight stretch.
***
My cell phone battery life is absurd. It was 95% when I started typing. It’s now 68%. And I type pretty fast.
***
Seamus’s health took a sharp downward turn.
Week 46, Day 320: One of the saddest days and worst nights of my life.
JB was unconsolable this first night without their big brother Seamus and I wasn’t in better shape. We hugged and cried and cried and cried.
They thought they understood what “dead” meant, and they wanted to be there for the appointment to say farewell so we thought they were at least getting the idea of what was happening. I had explained it earlier and they’d had time to be upset at home. They seemed almost upbeat at the appointment, asking the vet which injection was “the dying shot”.
But they couldn’t understand why he wasn’t coming back home with us. They didn’t understand why he didn’t close his eyes. They wanted to know how he was going to be cared for overnight. I’ll tell you what, that last one destroyed me for another hour.
Week 46, Day 321: I just about remember how to exist. We still have to do all the usual things. Schoolwork, fighting with Comcast, figuring out why my leave claim at EDD is stalled out. It rained almost all day, so Sera just had quick trips outside for the bare necessities because she hates walking in the rain.
We finally had a break in the early evening so the whole troupe went for a walk and the pain of our being all together without Seamus was palpable. I felt like I was holding my breath the whole time, muscle memory telling me to walk slowly and looking down to ensure his feet didn’t slip or his hips didn’t give out or that he wasn’t struck with a sudden unpredictable need to stop. Then I’d look down and he wasn’t there. And my heart would hurt all over again. This is so incredibly hard.
Week 46, Day 322: I miss my Seamus. I will always miss him.
***
I’m incredibly frustrated with EDD right now. They have questions but they didn’t give me any way to respond to them when I missed their unexpected call. Then they just rejected my claim without explanation. Then they refused to answer the phone ever. It was nowhere near this painful getting my disability claim paid with JB, I don’t understand what’s going on but it’s taking several phone calls to our doctor to see if they can help with documentation.
Week 46, Day 323: With the good news about the J&J vaccine, I find myself pondering the state of things.
As parents, we’re deep in the “it’s a phase” stage of life again with an infant, with things changing day to day and week to week. Also sleep deprivation. I haven’t gotten a full night of sleep since the 2nd trimester probably so I’m going on 6 or 8 months of interrupted sleep?
As humans, we’re almost a year into this pandemic. We still have no information about when we adults are going to have access to vaccines, when kids under six are going to have trials for vaccines, when it’ll be moderately safe to travel or how we’ll establish our next new normal. I have to confess to at least some jealousy of our family in other countries that have dealt with this so much more effectively that they have essentially normal lives now. I also have to figure out if I can make any changes to JB’s educational experience this year. Looking into some of the online public school / charter school options, they don’t seem to be well reviewed by employees which suggests to me we’d still be dealing with stressed and disgruntled educators and it may well be going from the frying pan to the fire.
Collectively, at least a dozen friends have lost a loved one to COVID, at least six of us have bid farewell to long beloved dog companions, we’ve lost grandparents after not seeing them the past year, our kids have been socially restricted for so long I wonder if they’ll just be feral by the time they’re back in society again and I’m honestly not sure how badly stress has deteriorated the health of most adults just coping.
:: How are you?
February 1, 2021
About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag a dog into his shambles of a life?? But in 40 years, adopting Seamus was probably the one unmitigated good thing he’s ever done.
Seamus was smarter than any dog I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of dogs in my years of working with animals. He was dignified, chock full of patience, and clever as all get out.
Back in the early 2000s, I would occasionally bring him to work with me. It made my horrible office job in LA on and off again tolerable. On his first day, he unerringly identified, and ignored, the most evil person in the office. He sat in our meetings, and even when he was climbing into a colleague’s lap for some cuddles – all 105 lbs of him! – he was whisper silent. We carpooled to work in those terribly stressful days, and he would silently rest his head on my colleague’s shoulder in the front passenger seat, resting his butt in the back seat, the whole ride home.
In my rare downtime with friends back then, we’d occasionally pick up fast food and eat it in our living room. I remember how he “begged” for food. He would politely sit several feet away, across from the person most likely to break under the pressure and watch them until they broke down.
I remember when we rescued him and brought him to the Bay Area several years ago. I had been struggling with wanting to help Seamus but being uncertain I could take on his challenges in addition to my highly stressful job AND Doggle. I was pregnant with JB, too, so I didn’t want to make a rash decision and take on more than we could handle. Then I’d heard that my trainwreck sibling had crossed a line, he hit Seamus, and that sealed it. We went to get him.
6 and change years ago. 15 lbs too thin, welts and weeping rashes and sores all over his body from allergies, bright eyes and a heart the size of the sun. We still had Doggle back then. We we invited Seamus to join our little but growing family, he hopped in the car and tucked himself neatly behind an oblivious Doggle who he hoped to make his very best friend without a moment’s hesitation. He still loved my sibling because that’s just who he was but he was also going to grab the offer to save his life. It was the beginning of the best journey and my biggest heartbreak.
We started our life with him with a bath and a 9 hour car ride back to the Bay Area. He became Doggle’s tan-colored shadow. He was miles smarter than Doggle who had a vague notion of what dogs are, but he was humble and sweet, absolutely willing to use his smarts to get along.
Making squeaky toys squeak, the joy of his life, was verboten because Doggle thought he was hurting the toys. So Doggle would huffily confiscate Seamus’s toys as they squeaked, one by one. Seamus would watch them go, sadly, but without protest. When they were all lined up in Doggle’s animal rescue (the crate), Seamus would come to me and request liberation of the toys. He wouldn’t get them himself, crossing Doggle directly simply was Not Done.
We tackled his health issues on multiple fronts. We changed his diet and put him on steroids. He hopped into the tub on command and submitted to medicated baths three times a week for his sores, he stretched out on the ground and laid still as long as required for me to medicate and treat his hot spots all over his raw feet. He was a blinking mess physically, but he cooperated every single step of the way as we trial and errored our way to a healthy weight and healthy skin and coat. It took months of effort, and I’ve never been prouder in my life of anything than the day I ran my hand backwards across his fur and confirmed that his entire body was entirely free of the persistent and painful sores that once blanketed his body.
In turn, he helped me out. As my pregnancy progressed, he would come help me up when I got stuck on the sofa. He’d let me lie on his side for a cuddle when the back pain was too much.
Months into his health ordeals, JB arrived on scene. Despite never having been around children before, he took one look at the baby and claimed that puppy for his own. We always joked that we had a third co-parent but it wasn’t really a joke – he had opinions about infant JB’s care and he shared them quite clearly.
No one was allowed to come in and pick up his baby without checking with him first. PiC pretending to toss JB like a football? UNACCEPTABLE. Make him stop, he ordered me with a low yodel, that’s not funny. One parent was taking too long to soothe the crying baby? He’d fetch the other human. The number of times I caught myself arguing with him that a particular cradle or solution of his wouldn’t work? An embarrassing number. Up for a middle of the night diaper change? So was he. He would stand up on his hind legs to oversee the change on the changing table – the only time he’d ever stand on furniture. When we were sleep training, he would station himself in the room with the squalling child. Whenever JB was playing or creeping on the ground, he would stretch out casually and “pass out” but he was always really closely paying attention.
Until JB learned to walk / run, he hovered. It wasn’t obvious until he relaxed his guard, seemingly telling us that he didn’t need to worry anymore because they were strong enough to cope without his constant nursemaiding. But he always cared about their well being. Woe unto anyone who scared his baby. He’d never picked a fight with any dog but when a small terrier jumped on JB and startled them into crying? Seamus dashed 50 meters to appear by their side ready to kick that dog’s butt. We had to talk fast, explaining that JB was unharmed, or he might have eaten that dog for supper. When they cried, real crying, not dramatic fake crying or tantrum crying, he would station himself nearby to keep them company. Even when walking was hard for him, even if they were so angry they didn’t want anyone around, he was always there for them. On his last day when they finally realized what his appointment meant for us, when they wailed out their grief, he wobbled over to check on them.
He always intervened when we were frazzled and disciplining too harshly – you’d find a gentle paw on your hand or your shoulder, and get a look. But he didn’t just tell us what to do as parents, he was also our hall monitor. When I worked from home, he was my work buddy. We’d sit on the rug together and he’d hog the space heater, leaning back on my legs. We’d sit like that until it was time for his walk. When Sera came along, the two of them would simultaneously loom on either side of my laptop when I lost track of time. On mornings I slacked off and ran errands before starting work, I heard my marching orders. He expected me at my desk and working before ten am and told me so in no uncertain yodels. No excuses, get to work!
It wasn’t just us, the world loved him on sight. We took him anywhere we could and he always collected a band of admirers, hoping to pet him. He welcomed it all with a tail wag and a grin. Children of all ages would come right up to our boy and ask to pet or hug him and he basked in their joy. When we took friends around town, he’d come along to soak up the adoration of the masses. He was a loving charmer, full of smiles and good cheer for anyone who needed it, and thrilled to meet a new face anytime.
He wasn’t just an attention sponge either. He could read people. He always knew if someone was scared or uncomfortable and he always gave them exactly what they needed to they needed to ease their fear. He was so good at this, he won over our friend who has been deathly afraid of dogs his entire life. Our friend is still afraid of dogs but Seamus? Seamus was invited to their home and hand fed treats by our friend who has never once petted a dog because he was so afraid of them. Seamus was magic on four paws.
I’d say he was brave but it may be more that he was fearless. There wasn’t a thing in all these years that unnerved or scared him. He strongly disapproved of certain things: rudeness, fireworks, and the postal service coming right up to put mail in slots (mailboxes were ok, mail slots were “trespassing”) but he wasn’t afraid of them. They simply did not meet his standards.
His favorite destination was the vet where he could meet all manner of new pets and people. To my embarrassment, in his later years, he would yodel-scold people if they were standing around not petting him. Worse, when I apologized and explained why he was yodeling at them, they would comply. I could only shake my head. There’s something about him.
Just last week he dug his geriatric heels in. COVID had stolen a year of his social life and he had had enough. On a walk on a rare sunny day when all the dogs were out for a walk, he demanded to meet at least one puppy before we went home.
He should have spent this last year sunbathing, being doted on by passersby, running his heart out, playing fetch. He loved us all but he felt the world constrict around him as the pandemic took away physical contact and his health began to fail.
Unfortunately, in the course of this past year, he suffered from more than a dozen UTIs, several eye ulcers (one severe enough I thought we’d lose the eye), hot spots as his allergies flared intermittently, urinary incontinence, hyperthyroidism, increasingly severe arthritis, advancing neurological weakness that severely affected his gait, and mysterious weight loss. We did every single thing we could to heal his hurts and manage his pain but inevitably, we reached a point where there was nothing left to add to his personal pharmacy. He had a complex sheaf of prescriptions rivalling that of any human senior citizen and it was painful watching him stumble and deteriorate. I’d give just about anything for a few more good years with this good boy, but for his sake, we finally had to make the decision to let him go with our love. I’ll never be ready to live without him. I’ve cried a river and my heart is shattered. But we couldn’t be selfish and keep hanging on for one more day.
“Why does he have to die?” asked JB. Why indeed. Of anyone, he deserved another decade of good hard running, fetch for days, and all the good food he could handle.
PiC often reminds us that when someone we love passes, they’re still in our hearts. JB on the first of many hard nights without our boy cried, “I don’t feel like he’s in my heart because he’s dead.” I feel the same way. There’s an enormous hole where Seamus was. We miss the sound of his footsteps. We catch ourselves reaching to refill his medicine, checking his water bowl, planning for his next every two hour outing. We miss his politely inquiring nose at the dinner table, nudging our elbows as he draws exactly level to the table top but never reaching higher. We miss his meander under the dining table to roll under the feet of the person he deemed worthy of petting him with their toes. We miss his popping up when the baby is crying to gently snuff the head and confirm it’s ok. We miss the weight of his butt resting on our laps as he backs up to share my lap with JB or Smol.
I keep expecting him to come open the bathroom door to tell me to hustle myself out to breakfast, or hear him tapping down the hall to fetch me to punt Sera off the bed he wanted, or to tattle that something wasn’t to his liking. I can’t shut my office door without half expecting him to shove it open because he likes keeping an eye on all his people. He didn’t like to be separated from us, so he always picked the spot that was equidistant from everyone to monitor. If that wasn’t possible, he’d go guard JB.
The nights may be the hardest. We can almost see him out of the corner of our eyes during the day as we keep busy, but at night, the silence weighs heavily.
We miss him so much.
It was an honor and a privilege to care for this giant among dogs, the best dog we have ever had the pleasure of knowing.
January 25, 2021
Week 45 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 45, Day 312: We miss grocery shopping pre-COVID. We love browsing the shelves and coming up with new foods and recipes to try. My appetite is really suffering these days. It makes me want to just revert to takeout all the time but honestly, even takeout palls after a while.
As a homebody, this doesn’t happen too often but I feel trapped today. I wanted to make this a good day where we enjoy the rare sunny day but everyone was grouchy when I got up and so that made me grouchy, and I want to put this day in the bin.
I want to take the kids somewhere but there’s nowhere to go. We can’t go swimming, we can’t go to the craft store, we can’t see most friends safely. Everything has to be carefully planned and spaced out to be sure we’re not putting anyone at unnecessary risk. Sigh.
We did find a safe place to hike, eventually! Though it was hot enough for ME to be happy and comfortable, that meant it was too hot for JB who got TIRED and WHINY about halfway through the outing. I calmly pointed out that a little suffering wasn’t going to break us and that we could manage to keep the day from going to pot if we took some breaks, had a bit of snack, and powered through. We probably walked and jogged about 2 miles over two hours which is the furthest I’ve gone in months. I hope it helps me sleep better.
We were all tired mid-afternoon but I’m still glad we made it out. I juuuust kept a lid on my temper as JB asked 20 million questions while we mixed up some cornbread for dinner together but it was a very close thing. I had to put some brakes on before it went too badly.
PiC had them help him with some coffee grinder. That went a little less well but they found their way back to playing pretend after a bit.
(more…)
January 19, 2021
Week 44 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Week 44, Day 305: My jobs today were: 1) revive my old iPad, 2) talk to the vet about Seamus, 3) set up a therapy appointment for myself, 4) keep Smol Acrobat alive, 5) fax our representatives to insist on accountability for the Jan 6 and ongoing coup attempts.
#1 and #4 took me all flipping day.
#1 was not a continuous effort, I just had to keep coming back to a failed restore and start again. I hate Apple products.
#4 was naturally an all day endeavor. Smol is currently refusing to sleep unless they are being held. In related news, I’m in the market for new arms to replace these two falling off. PiC and JB were doing yardwork so I managed SA and their need for constant cuddles forever. It’s surprisingly tiring and a small part of me is grateful for our current stay at home orders because I remember how hard it was to do this all day all alone but for Seamus who couldn’t hold the baby for me.
#2 was heartbreaking but we had a necessary discussion.
#3 was initiated but I haven’t heard back.
#5 has to happen tomorrow.
Week 44, Day 306: I got three hours of sleep. ZOMBIE TIMES. After handing over the baby to PiC for the morning shift and trying to catch another nap, unsuccessfully, I hauled myself out of bed to deal with pumping and eating and all those other lovely basic necessities that I resent so much when I’m dog tired.
Today’s top priorities: 1) Contacting our representatives – DONE. 2) Do more data / files clean up because our cloud storage is running low. 3) Overseeing get well cards for sick relatives – MAILED. 4) Take another swipe at setting up the iPad. 5) Refill Seamus’s meds – ORDERED.
Thanks to OMDG for this JAMA article link: “Under baseline assumptions, approximately 59% of all transmission came from asymptomatic transmission: 35% from presymptomatic individuals and 24% from individuals who are never symptomatic (Figure 1).”
Week 44, Day 307: It seemed like the day was a bust between my getting up super late (long night with Smol meant I needed a longer mid morning nap), a long-winded call with a relative, and the hours spent with the Comcast tech trying to figure out WTAF is wrong with our connection. He removed some attenuators and that helped with half the problem. I pulled the plug on our range extender and that helped with the other half. Here’s hoping it actually works for more than two days.
At 4:30 I got my butt in gear and started dinner prep super early. I had this vision of prepping dinner, walking the dogs, then hitting the Target parking lot for a drive up pickup of the things I needed to clean our dishwasher and try to cut my hair.
What actually happened: I put the first half of dinner in the oven, vetoed Daniel Tiger for JB, took them and the dogs out for a walk, deferred the Target run to tomorrow, and had JB work on several chores while I finished making the salad and pumping milk.
On the subject of dinner: We had our Home Chef delivery today and I think I’ll throw together a review for it. Getting dinner on the table by 6:30 and much of the evening routine done myself since Smol Acrobat was holding PiC hostage felt really good. I haven’t felt physically able or mentally competent to mentally organize / prioritize / execute like that in a long time.
I’m truly appreciating the glimpse into what it’s like to feel capable again, and not just struggling to get the bare minimum done while feeling like a failure.
Week 44, Day 308: I’m pondering on the situation of a dear relative who we’ve been helping out a lot through some serious circumstances. These are thoughts I’d never share with them because they’re about me as it relates to them, not about them, and also because it’ll sound judgy. It’s not meant to judge them, though, it’s just me weighing things.
They have made some choices that were based on lack of information and now they’re doing their damnedest to fix the situation. I’m providing financial and moral support. It’s been years and it’ll take more years to extricate them safely. The hazard for me here is I tend to get too emotionally involved. I forget my place, as it were. I want so badly for them to be ok that I throw my whole being into that end goal and then I’m devastated when they inevitably make choices I disagree with because we are not the same people and there are reasons we’re at different places in life. I’m observing my ability to see that now, I couldn’t do that in my younger years, and maybe it’s growth that each time they flail or say they’re going to do something I really wouldn’t recommend or think is a bad choice, my first reaction now is to step back and let it breathe. Previously it would have been to try and convince them to do the safe thing. The “right” thing because it was safer. But you know, the right way was only “safer” because it created familiar pain. Not because it was pain free. It was successful financially, I’ll grant you, but there most certainly isn’t one path to getting to firm financial ground. It’s just that there’s only one path I know well enough to share.
But today’s thought is about how I have to keep practicing being a better listener and a better friend by providing what’s needed and not adding more pressure by adding my preconceived notions of what’s right and what’s wrong. I’ll give them my judgements and opinions when they ask, or when it’s dangerous, but not when they’re fixing to build a new life and trying to figure out how.
Week 44, Day 309: Smol wasn’t feeling up to snuff yesterday and this translated into an interesting night. We had somewhat longer stretches of sleep but they were also clearly uncomfortable and sad and that tugged on my heartstrings. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have suuuch a helpless little loaf that doesn’t have any way to communicate other than crying and little non-word sounds.
***
I don’t know if I’ll ever use it but I decided that I wanted to learn about options trading. A mentor has been doing it for a year and if nothing more than an intellectual stretching exercise, I’d like to see if I can’t at least wrap my head around it. We have to manage options from our company compensation anyway so I would like to understand them more deeply than I do now. I hope it’ll help me make better decisions.
***
The Nicole and Maggie gross dishwasher post inspired me to pick up some Lemi Shine to clean our dishwasher. We just ran it today so I hope to see results in the next dishwasher load! Fingers crossed.
:: How was your week?