You know, if my life were a movie (or more likely, considering my non-photogenic status - a really cheesy novel) we would've already Faced Down Financial Adversity, Fought Hard to Overcome Seemingly Insurmountable Challenges, Learned Important Life Lessons, Regained Economic Footing (and House), and Lived Happily Ever After.
Aaaaaaaaand.... SCENE.
Of course, the problem with thinking of yourself as the plucky heroine in the movie of your life, is that life doesn't actually STOP right there at the good part. You can regain your financial footing, start building savings and then a series of unexpected things might start to happen. A two week maternity leave. A rash of medical bills. Increased sitter time due to presence of small infant type creature. A client who fails to pay the over TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS owed for work performed. State mandated unpaid furlough days. Tornado.
(OK, possibly not that last one, but who knows - THE DAY IS YOUNG.)
If my life were a movie, the audience would be saying "BOO. HISS. PLOT RECYCLING. CREATIVITY FAIL!" Probably they would throw popcorn at the screen.
Plucky heroines would likely Put Their Nose To The Grindstone and Save the Day. This won't really help me in real life because my nose has already BEEN on the grindstone - in fact it's worn down to practically a NUB (and a nub does not look nice on camera, trust me on this)). I work each morning for 4-5 hours while the sitter is here, then work 3-4 hours every night after the kids are in bed.
I'm nubby. I'm tired. I am seriously lacking in pluck. My husband is gone every day from 7AM till 6PM. This would never be acceptable in a movie. Movie romances require much more than the occasional grunt and wave as we pass each other in the hallway. (Also, heroines shower occasionally.) (And I'm guessing they also don't stress-inhale Malomars.)
It doesn't help that last year was pretty awful, all the way around. Some stuff happened - stuff I won't get into here (OOOOH, LOOK, A BOUNDARY!), but suffice to say that it kicked me off balance and made me question a lot of things I'd taken for granted for a very long time. Hence the not blogging. Hard to blog in a lighthearted way about things that are hurting your heart.
(Also, hence the service. Service = total selfishness for me. It is easier to think about someone else's problems than it is to percolate on my own. A child is cold? A child needs a coat? This is a problem I can try to fix. Not all problems are so easily dispatched, so tangibly dealt with. Service makes me feel as though I'm doing something right, when all too often I feel like I'm doing it wrong.) (So basically, expect to see me posting about a LOT of service projects in 2010.) (In fact, count on it.)
(Ooooooh, speaking of: If you text HAITI to 90999, $10 (charged to your phone bill) goes to the Red Cross to help with relief efforts there. SO EASY.)
On the other hand:
So, yes, 2009 was not ALL bad.
I was just kind of hoping (praying) 2010 would start off a little more smoothly. And it might get better from here. You never know. New, higher paying jobs could appear. Clients could suddenly decide to pay me. Unicorns could prance merrily through the streets. It could happen.
In the meantime I will TRY to keep reminding myself that I can't JUST be happy when things are easy. I think that's the difference between people who are generally happy and people who aren't. If you wait to be happy until everything is smooth sailing and wonderful, you are going to waste most of your life, because real life isn't like that. It isn't a movie. (UNFORTUNATELY.)
So I'm going to choose to be happy. I'm going find the joy in the journey, even if it feels like I'm only traveling in circles on a tricycle with a broken wheel.
Even if it makes people who know what is going on wonder if I am in full possession of my faculties.
I WILL BE HAPPY IF IT KILLS ME.
SO THERE.
PS: I am not walking a marathon. It was a worthy goal, but I realized pretty quickly that I did not have four hours available each day to "practice walking." In December I started the Couch-to-5K running program. (If you've never heard of it, it's basically a nine week run/walk interval training program). (I won't admit how far that means I can run now, because it will probably make you point and snicker. "You had to TRAIN to be able to run that far? Oh Sue. Sue, Sue, Sue." Yes. I KNOW.) I keep waiting to experience the famous "runner's high" that everyone keeps talking about, but so far no go. I usually feel pretty great right after I finish running, but I'm thinking that's less runner's high and more BECAUSE I STOPPED RUNNING. I'm not well suited for bouncing around a track - my legs are too short and my chest is too large - I am not streamlined or aerodynamic, I am clumsy and slow. I'm not a cheetah, I'm more like a very determined hedgehog.
PPS: We haven't changed Joshua's name. Thanks for all of the advice and comments about your experiences with name changes. I think we just needed a few weeks to get used to it. We call him Joshie right now, and it seems to fit him. He was a pretty happy baby for a month or so, but now he is teething - gnawing a hole in his arm. We've tried everything - teething tablets, teething rings, tylenol, orajel - he still mainly just wants someone to rub his gums for him. Someone needs to invent a robot for that. (Many mornings, I'm tired enough that I probably qualify.)
PPPS: My cousin
Annie took that wonderful photo, by the way. She took
a bunch of pictures that I am just completely in love with. She took the pictures for me as a favor, since I was being very subtle, whining about poverty and poor pictureless infants and saying things like "man, wouldn't it be nice if I had a cousin who was a photographer?" (She isn't actively working as a photographer right now, but I'm sure if you threw large handfuls of cash in her general direction she might be able to squeeze you in.)
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