Do they teach them this at teachers' colleges?

I and my kids need to appear in court on what would be their first day of school for this year. 

This is horrible for so many reasons.  But anyway, I am trying to contact their teachers, to explain the situation, make sure they are prepared to get the boys initiated a day late, and mostly to let them know that the boys are going through a rough time.  It's hard to know how much to tell the teachers, what is most helpful, and to good purpose. Honestly, my main thought is, understandably, to make things better for the boys.  But I also know it may serve to remove a stumbling block from in front of the teachers:

My father passed away when I was in elementary school.  We went to stay with my father's family for a couple weeks, out-of-state, and they arranged for me to go to the local day school.  I can't remember almost anything from my elementary years in general, but I remember that week fairly well.  I actually enjoyed the school very much, made friends much easier than at home, so I suppose I just appeared to be some little girl on an extended vacation.  After a couple days, the recess teacher came up to me to say hello.  "And how did you come to join our school for this week?" she asked all cheerfully...

And it all just fell out in tears, "I'mherebecausemyfatherdiedandhisfuneralwashereonsundayandtheysaidishouldgotoschoolbecauseidon'thave
tositshivaalldayandthatswhyi'mherrrrrrreeeeee."  Hiccup.

I feel so terrible for that teacher.  I have no idea who it was.  I wonder if there is any way to find her an let her know I never held any bad feelings against her, and it really wasn't anything terrible that she said.

I once, unintentionally did something to hurt a little child, and I will feel guilty about it forever.  It is one of my worst memories.  But the child was so young at the time, I bet she doesn't even remember, and I don't even know her name.  But it would be wonderful to be able to settle that matter. So, I want to do what I can to avoid creating such a terrible memory for someone new.

A Last Hurrah

Movie Buddy is leaving on Sunday for the other side of the continent.  I am so happy for him and so sad for me, and we went out yesterday for a (pen)ultimate movie viewing.  I had reserved his company for "Boyhood" at the beginning of the summer.  He took a break from his preparations, and we finally made it to the theater last night.

"Boyhood"...there was so much hype leading up to its release.  I will say that it was a very powerful film, but certainly not because of the story.  The story was okay, but we both agreed that the message was kinda' thin: a boy who has such uncertain childhood in a world of imperfect adults still develops into a good, curious, credulous yet questioning, unbroken adolecent.  Yes we understand the idea, but the movie does little to really probe what it is he still believes in, what directions he questions.

What really hit me, and I mean hit me "bang" in the gut, what the amazing feeling of authenticity. The curiosity of actually watching the characters/actors age was certainly the teaser that brought many people into the theatre, and it was very satisfying.  But BEYOND just having the time progress "truthfully", the time references that weren't neccessarily "references" when they were shot, there was something that felt 100% right about every scene.  I can't put my finger on how it was done, I do not understand the craft of it, but from the first scene, I literally (literally!!!) wanted to say to Movie Buddy "that looks just like that place I remember!"  And I did not grow up anywhere near Texas.  Riding the bikes in the little ravine, the apartment complexes, the empty parking lot, the dorm room... somehow even the beautiful southwest scenery I have NEVER seen: the quarry lake, the mountains and canyons, they looked so right, and almost familiar.

Also the dialog was so authentic and familiar feeling.  Even the high school / college "questioning life" rants and boy/girlfriend banter was wonderfully recognizable and natural for its innate empty wispiness.

And because it was all so authentic, and because I am already living this movie, I collapsed, and let every scene pull me where it intended.


I pleaded with Movie Buddy to give me a few more hours, so he is coming over tonight to watch "Little Miss Sunshine": same movie, but set as a comedy. Like "Penny Lane" vs. "Elenor Rigby".

Please keep a space for me, I'm always thinking of you.  Good luck Movie Buddy, onward and upward!

Another dream: the Normal Family

 Hmm, seems that I never got around to finishing this, back in February.

Tired.  Spent last night in a motel near my mother's place, so I could take her to 7:30am (out-patient) surgery.  Snowed again overnight and into this morning.  B"H, all went well, I drove home, came to work a couple hours, because unscheduled people were using equiptment that I needed, so I had to get that stuff done today.  Spending time with my mother is so taxing.  I'm not really at liberty to explain why, so please just accept it: very taxing!
I'm starting to feel extra over-anxious again - maybe it is just Purim/ Pesach/ taxes time of year, coupled with these papers at work.  I had a dream last week.  I can't even remember it very well, but it was pretty much the idea that wasband and I were going to live together again primarily to pull resources, and the provide kids with "normal" home.  Wouldn't I love that - And ISN'T THAT SAD! Or is it?
Okay here is the sad:  I would be giving up on ever having a real husband = helpmate, partner soulmate, beloved, etc, whatever title/ qualities you want to use, I would never in my life have had this; and according to most novels, poems, plays, songs, this is a pretty good thing to have.
I have been back to reviewing Fraiser, watched the 6th season birthday episode, where Fraiser confides to Eddy how upset he is to still be single, how alone he will feel when Daphne moves out.  Made me feel that it is not over-dramatic to be sad to be single (not that anyone should try to learn life's truths from television...still...).
On the other had is it so sad?  A friend on FB posted parted of what looked like a play, where the "mother" or "grandmother" is explaining that many, if not most, relationships are only meant or able to be transient, so better to be single and happy, than married and miserable.

It's always relevant,  because I have these same thoughts when people equate the tragedy of illness with the "tragedy" of being single, most notably when saying Tehillim (Psalms).  Is it a tragedy that a) someone will never share a life with a helpmeet / soulmate, or b) someone will never get married?  And if it is choice a, then why didn't all you people help me more when I was trying to escape my sham of a marriage?  I certainly was being prevented from sharing my life with a mate capable of sharing my life.

And still, if I thought I could "live" with the wasband, but never have to deal with him, never have to interact, had the same freedom I have now - yeah, I think that it extremely tempting.  "Live" here = sleep in the same house, but not the same bedroom; also have a separate kitchen, bathroom or living room; keep money extremely separate, maybe have an accountant to pay shared bills, attend social and child-rearing functions together, but had very liberal options on spending shabbos separately, etc.

I guess this is just another "I'm still at this same place" post.

But as I said on Monday: really, I'm pretty well right now. 

Bli Eyin Hara!I have a first author paper "in press", another paper where I'm middle author is about to come out, jewelry is selling a bit, my son talks to me a bit, kinda' and might take my help this summer.

I ran, it wasn't sickening

Day 382:  194.6
Just wanted to post something I am so happy about.

I have been trying to run to lose weight and look better, and just to be able to run and to feel stronger.  So I would get up early, stumble out the door, run around the block a couple times.  After 3 weeks, I kinda gave up because I HATED IT.  I hated getting up early, I hated running, it felt back, made me wheeze, caused pain in my shoulders, was totally boring, and just generally felt bad from the first step to the last.

So that was about a week and a half ago I last ran in the morning.

Last night it was so nice out, I went for a nice brisk walk.  I came to a good straight bit of sidewalk, and something said "run".  So I ran.  Just a couple blocks.  I loved it.  And it was real running, not just that slow jogger shuffle I had been doing. Woo.  Today, I was late for an appointment a few blocks from my work.  Again, went a block or so in real run!  I like it.  I'm excited to see if I continue to like it.

Day 380

195.6

And beyond that, I'm at much the same point I was 380 days ago.

I haven't been able to communicate much with my local dudettes, feeling really alone.  I'm not in a terribly dark mood, in fact doing pretty well! but lonely, especially as I have had several good things happen, and I couldn't seem to find anyone to "appropriately" congratulate me or share in the happiness, big or little.

I was at a memorial service yesterday, for one of the community leaders, but not someone I was at all close to personally.  The whole time I only felt sorry for myself, especially when one of the speakers noted what a good friend the departed was, and how important it is to have a good friend to share with: a joy that cannot be shared is an empty joy, and a sorrow that cannot be shared is a much deeper sorrow.  YEAH, YEAH, LIKE I NEED SOMEONE TO TELL ME THIS.  I couldn't stop the self-pity; but as this was a eulogy, I felt I could just cry, why not?  So I cried a while, then asked "Please God, you who knows me, and knows what I need and what I want, please help me stop being so self-absorbed, and until then, let these tears be a kaporah, an atonement for me, and let their merit be for all your children."  Aren't I wonderful???  Ugh, as I drove home, I thought that in my way, I am just as narcissistic and self-centered as the wasband.

So let me praise myself a little more (and I'm warning you, it's a doozy):  A few hours before the memorial service, I was at an engagement party for a sweet, lovely young woman with whom I regularly spend shabbos lunch, since we are both very often guests of the same family.  We talk, and we both have a passion for spades, but I never thought she took much more notice of me.  On my way out, as I gave her and her fiance my congratulations, she just burst out that I was an inspiration to her, that everyone knows me and thinks that I am so sweet and tells the girls how nice and good is Sweet Profusion, etc., etc.
What does one do with this?  On the one hand I genuinely want to say "no, it's not true, I'm a big nasty loser", and on the other hand to ring out, "Yes, finally! I'm glad to hear you all see the truth! Now go shout it from the mountains." 
And I was reminded of a David Sedaris monologue, Diary Entries

He expounds "Sometimes things happen and I don't know what to do with my face.  Take for example..."  and he expounds on the bizarre things people tell him on his travels, and he witty responses, real or imagined.  In fact I couldn't think of any response, so I just looked incredulous, then started to tear, then hugged her to stop. 


I got a call this morning from an older woman who lives on the same block where the wasband still lives.  Apparently, he has been guest by her and her husband often, and recently the wasband has been inviting the older couple over for meals.  She approached me in the most tactful, gentle way, "I talked with you over shabbos, and I see how Wasband has changed, and I want to ask: Do you see a chance for reconciliation?"  And in a remarkably tactful and gentle and unemotional way, I was able to convince her that really we are much better apart, happier, nicer, better, even if the wasband has not fully realized this yet (I am not trying to imply that he put her up to this, I do not believe that would happen).  But what does still pain me everyday is that my son has not internalized it, so please, if she can help, that is where efforts should go.

I'm having a hard time tying the idea together here.  I guess it's that I want to be showered with praise for these 15 pounds I lost in a year('cause I was 194 on Friday, before shabbos and the vort), and I'm all "whoop-de-doo, let's try on all those clothes I was avoiding," until I crash to the somewhat insincere "ugh, you still a disgusting blob, and all you can do is 15 pounds in a whole year?", and the more sincere "who even cares anyway? there's no one who cares what you weigh."

But you all care, right?

Grapefruit Love

Instead of going through Facebook, which is full of all those horrible (to lonely me) Mother's Day posts, I'll share with you what I was thinking about today (and I see this is kinda' a continuation of the last post, although not about elephants).

I'm still making my way through the piles of left-over Pesach produce, so I brought in a grapefruit for lunch.  I love grapefruit, but they are such a mess to eat bare-handed.  I was reminded of the most romantic thing anyone ever did for me: when my college boyfriend would peel the membrane off grapefruit sections for me, unasked, just because he knew I would like it. 

It is hard to explain what makes for a beautiful gift.  But certainly the price, and even the effort are not necessarily the major factor.  Mostly, it's the reflected message "I know you, you are meaningful to me."

Happy May 12.

Ode to a Promiscuous Pachyderm

This is a public mash-letter, to one of the most important people in my life:

I was recently sent a short article, "Attachment and Connection" by Dr. Bruce Perry.  Dr. perry writes that that we can plot development of personal attachment (such as that between parent and child) into six distinct stages:  Proximity, Sameness, Belonging or Loyalty, Significance, Love, and Being Known.  I don't really have time or energy to elucidate here, but I think it is pretty clear even as just this list.  I reacted very stronly to the article, thinking about the amazing attachments I have to a select few people in my life, those who cross the boundary into Significance, Love, and even Being Known.

It is a terrible sorrow to feel that there is no one who knows YOU, it was a very large part of the depression that held me, that I still often fall in;  It is a tremendous joy to be with share with another, and feel "known." 

So to you who makes me feel significant, loved, and known, I give you the name Little Miss Inside.  It is not a perfect name, because it doesn't seem to include Little Miss Bubbly, Little Miss Kindness, Little Miss So Cute, Little Miss Popular; and Emunah is already taken.  But somehow this bubbly, kind, so cute, popular little miss invited me inside.  You are rich in attachment already, but here is another who hopes you understand how deeply you are significant, beloved, and (I hope) known.

But don't be upset if I sometimes slip back to Little Miss Slutty Elephant.