Hummingbird Mind

Back to work

I'm back from taking two days off, during which I worked in order to catch up. Does that make sense? Of course not. But, really, how many of you do that?

To be honest, I didn't work full days. I worked half days and then organized my office while watching streaming Netflix and my new guilty pleasure, Huluplus. I'm a multitasker.  My queues on these sites are a metaphor for my life... long lists of things yet to do.  Kind of exciting.

I've decided to jumpstart this blog again.  I was going to set up a new one, which I may still do; however, I'm more apt to write artcles or entries than I am launch a new Web site (at least for now).

Today is my daughter's 31st birthday.  She's a mother herself now.  I took a moment to remember what I thought when I looked at her for the first time 31 years plus seven hours ago.  I thought, "My life will never be the same and I'm responsible for this little girl." I also thought that anyone who believed I'd ever have another baby after the pain of labor was insane.  Then I did it again -- twice -- but with drugs. I'm not stupid. 

Happy birthday to my girl.

 

Changes

Though I haven't posted, I have been thinking about this blog. I'm reorganizing -- removing outdated links, collecting new ones, reviewing old posts in order to clear the clutter and, of course, thinking of new topics to write about.

When I started Humming Bird Mind, I was "teetering on the edge of the empty nest." Two girls were gone, but one remained and was headed to college. To be frank, even though the girls didn't live with me full time, until they were all in long term leases, had a job and medical insurance, I didn't consider myself an empty nester. So I practiced for a few years.

I think I can safely say that I've been a true empty nester now since 2010. Interesting that that is when I stopped posting here. Not sure why I stopped, except because I moved to this new phase and had to think about it a while. What does this mean? While the kids were still in college or just getting settled after graduating I was still very much involved in the day to day of their lives. Those interactions provided ideas for content. I've had to begin to build a new life.

This involves, to some extent, trying to remember who I was, what I liked to do, what I'd dreamed about doing while at the same time embracing all the new opportunities and interests out there.

I have found, while reading this blog, that while I have changed, you'd still know me if you bumped into me. I've spent the last two days trying to wrestle my office into submission. The rest of my house is pretty neat, but the office...

I ran across one of my early posts that reminded me of me. Enjoy.

All Hail the Mess-iahs

Jumping Monday

Sometimes I feel like a submarine plowing my way through the murky deep and only emerging from the depths once in awhile to gather data and see what's going on. Sometimes I don't totally emerge, I just send up a periscope or antenna. That's why "presence" is first on my list of resolutions for 2012.

I didn't realize how much blogging -- this blog anyway -- helped me with "presence." The acts of sitting down, staring at the blank screen and pondering what to write force me to looking around and see where I am. Today's topic is a simple one -- plunging from Sundays into Mondays.

I've written about this before. I've had jobs that ruined Sundays for me. Why? Because Sundays came before Mondays and Mondays meant "back to work." The more I hated my job, the worse Sundays were.

After this past holiday weekend during which the most productive things I did included whipping up a batch of potato leek soup and signing up for a new trash removal/recycling service, I found myself becoming tense as 4:00 p.m. rolled around. Rather than jumping into my typical overdrive in an attempt to complete everything before the work week started, I grabbed some tea, sat down and thought about it.

My anxiety wasn't about re-entering a work week or hating my job. It was about ending a restful and enjoyable holiday. Since I'm not that good at relaxing and enjoying myself (yet), it's not normal for me to feel guiltless on a Sunday evening. Leisure is not a normal milieu for me, but I can get used to it.

That short period of tension ebbed as I realized, perpetual Pollyanna that I am, that there's no Monday in this work week. Next weekend will be here before I know it. What to do, what to do?

Despite Me

Well... graduation is over and the next step on the way to my Empty Nest begins. Before I head off in that direction, let me share a few moments of the day.

First, the graduate.  Even at the age of two she had her own style.  On Thursday night she said she wanted to get a beach ball for the ceremony. 

"No beach balls," I said. "We're not doing that. You know they are not allowed." 

Memories of previous graduation ceremonies I've endured flashed before me. Beach balls, inflatables of all shapes and sizes (believe me, you don't want to know) bouncing from one row of graduates to the next. Flustered teachers chasing them while trying to control teenagers over whom they no longer held domain... Yes, I can appreciate the humor in all that; but, not when my child is a ring leader.

"Mom," she responded, "They gave a whole presentation -- PowerPoint -- on what we could and couldn't do.  At no point did they mention we couldn't do beach balls.  I took notes. I have it all written down." Her father has a law degree and was educated by Jesuits.  Enough said. 

I also asked what she planned on wearing.  We have been surprised by graduates stripping off their gowns to reveal everything from bathing suits to bunny rabbit costumes.  She assured me that she'd be wearing a sundress.  I tried to relax.

We had wonderful seats, thanks to her father who arrived more than two hours early to save 14 of them.  And I sat -- though surrounded by more than 2000 other family and friends -- quite alone watching her walk in while watching her two sisters whoop and wave at her, then holding my breath as she walked across the stage in dangerously high heels. 

"Okay, shake the hand, accept the diploma, smile at the photographer, and get down those stairs without a breaking your ankle," I whispered.

Somehow, clear as a bell, above the din, I heard her best friend Alex yell something. I'd recognize his voice anywhere.

Then it was over and we were back at the house with tons of food, lots of conversation, and a good time had by all.  Early in the evening my other two daughters and beaus donned their softball shirts and headed off for their Friday night game.  Guests left.  And we waited for Alex to swing by to pick her up for the All Night Grad party the parents and community throw for the kids. As they left, she asked him, "What did you yell when I was on stage.  My mom claims she heard you."

"I yelled that you ROCK!"  he replied.

"Mom, you did hear him," she said as she hugged me goodbye. 

Yes, I heard him.  And he is right. 

Here they are in nursery school:   

And here they are now... all grown up.  Well, almost.

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