So Much to Say

Apologies to everyone out there in BlogLand. I have been experiencing an unusually heavy workload of late, and I don't anticipate it lightening until at least June. I am working from home today so I can get in uninterrupted time on a $900,000 project that is due Monday. And yet, after I dropped Viva off at school, I ran by the supermarket to get a few things. It's a beautiful day today here in Los Angeles, clear and sunny. The sky is blue, it's breezy -- in short, it's a day when it's hard to be in a bad mood. As I got out of my car in front of the market, I took a deep breath of spring air and felt a bit wistful for the days when Viva was a wee tot, when my most pressing decision was whether to go to the park, the library, or maybe venture out to the children's museum.

Don't get me wrong -- I love the people I work with, I love the organization I work for, and I think what I do for a living actually does make a difference. But I miss the unstructured free time. What a luxury! I was so blessed to be able to stay home with Viva for the first 2.5 years of her life, and I know that.

I just know that our lives ran more smoothly when I was home. When Viva was first in preschool (a few hours a day, three days a week), I began freelancing again and that was great, too. I was making a little money and utilizing my brain cells and during the week I was able to do all the things that made our lives easier -- grocery shopping, cleaning, scheduling doctor's appointments and haircuts, getting the car serviced, whatever. Now all that minutiae is crammed into my weekends, when all I really want to do is relax and spend time with my family. I'm not exercising, and I'm not doing any creative writing. It kind of sucks.

I relayed all this to Sweet Dub recently, and he groaned. "Now you want to quit your job?" he said, and then screamed theatrically, "Why can't I ever make you happy?"

I'm not quitting my job. That would be silly, and it would really squeeze us financially. I'm just, like every other working mother out there, trying to figure out how I can make things work better. I think they call it balance.

Perhaps more coffee is the answer.

In other world news: Viva turned 4 on April 1st. This was a happy occasion and I will remember it with great fondness, always, especially because almost immediately afterward she morphed into this great whining, screaming, constantly pissed-off creature. Every now and then, on the weekends mostly, her old, sweeter side will show itself. I cherish those moments. I am really disliking the age of Four. It has failed all my expectations of it.

On vacation: we are traveling to Maui in June*. Can I get a "fuck, yeah!" We haven't had a real vacation since, well, forever. We went to Legoland last April for Viva's birthday, but I really don't think that counts. Sweet Dub and I have been trying to get to Hawaii since 2001. We were supposed to go for our honeymoon, but you know, we got married three weeks after 9/11 and travel was a very scary proposition at that time. So here we are, five-and-a-half years later. I'd say we earn points for patience.

And finally, last but certainly not least: a HUGE and hearty and very affectionate congratulations to the entire Oral Hygiene Royal Family. (I have been meaning to congratulate you for, I don't know, weeks? And I can't ever get near my blog or any blogs to comment? Frickin' firewall.) I wish you all the very best on the new addition! Sneaky, sneaky!


* We will be traveling sans grandma. She has serious sinus issues causing her sinus passages to fill up with fluid if a flower even looks at her the wrong way. Since Hawaii is pretty much abloom with tropical floral goodness round-the-clock, it seems pretty likely Mama Jay would be incapacitated as soon as the plane landed. Oh well -- so much for her free vacation. Sweet Dub's best friend, who has a 5-year-old daughter, is trying to schedule a few days in Maui when we are there, so maybe this will all work out just fine. I am a little bummed, because unlike most folks, I adore my crazy mother-in-law, but I guess it's not in the cards.

Comments and Commentary

Commenters: If any of you are still reading, know that I can receive your comments, but due to the funky firewall at work, I can't respond. Since I hardly ever log on while at home (due to the eyestrain of sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day at work), this is problematic. I swear to you that I will answer comments tomorrow, when I will work from home.

Moving on:

It is Monday evening. Sweet Dub and I watch the first few scenes of The Tudors. Henry VIII seems horrifically unhappy, although he pretty much does whatever he wants. When we get to the second sex scene in ten minutes of viewing, Henry is about to bed his handmaiden (or some other serving wench, I don't know her exact title). He says, "Do you consent?" and she says breathlessly, "I do, Your Majesty," falling into his arms in a near-swoon, with her clothes tumbling off.

"WHAT?!" Sweet Dub exclaims, rewinding it through the power of TiVo. " 'Do you consent?' What kind of PC bullshit is that?! That's it for me," he says, firmly handing me the remote and stomping from the room.

So much for that series. It pretty much lost all credibility right there.