Eyes Wide Open

I went to the eye doctor today. As many people do, I walked out of the doctor's office with a prescription for new glasses and a pair of hugely dilated eyes. And, as I stepped out onto the city sidewalk, even on this gray day, I was hit with the brightness of the world, brightness that was actually painful to my post-eye doctor eyes. I really just wanted to close my eyes and sit in the dark. And yet, sometimes it's much better to go through life with our eyes wide open.
 
More and more, we are called upon to make decisions without all the facts--without wide open eyes.  When my kids were small, if I signed them up for Gymboree, I knew that it was at a certain time each week for a certain number of weeks.  While work was different every day, it had a basic structure that I could see.  These days, it seems nothing is quite that clear. I have no problem with a little leap of faith here and there, but having my eyes wide open for a few hours today made me realize how helpful it can be to see the whole picture. It allows us to plan and anticipate and feel as though we are not always balancing on the edge.


Now that my eyes are back to normal, I'll admit I'm largely back to "leap of faith" mode. I will probably continue to sign up and ask questions later. But, having seen a little more for a few hours, I'd like to think that from now on, I'll be looking at things with my eyes a lot wider open.  On a much more regular basis.

Three Days

So, I have gone to Stamford for three days now, but that's not what I mean by "three days." Three days--sometimes four or five--is what I have lived through by the end of each day.
 
There's the day when I start getting everyone ready and head out myself.  Then there's the day of work, when home hardly exists. Then another day of transport to an event, and a whole new day when I arrive home and face kids and forms to sign and an apartment to put back in order.  All before I can end this day (or four or five days?) so I can have energy for tomorrow.
 
No one can really live three (or four or five) days in one, but perhaps the reason I feel, as many working outside the home moms do, that I am different people during the course of each day is that I really am.  The me who attended an event tonight was not the same me who was in Soap-ville all day. The me who was at work was not really the same me who fielded kid questions when I got home.  While, of course, these are all parts of me, they remind me just how many sides of me there are, and how many paths I can follow.  Maybe I've only worked for three days, but with the volume of stuff that has filled those days, I can safely say that that I've got at least a week under my belt. But, like parenthood, this time won't be counted in days and weeks and months. It will be counted in what I accomplish...and with at least three days every 24 hours, I'm bound to accomplish a lot!

Soap Camp

I never went to sleepaway camp. Not that I ever particularly wanted to. So, when I say this, I probably have no idea what I'm talking about. But here goes--
 
I have enrolled in soap camp. That's the only way I can describe this initial phase of the soaps online. I take a train to a different state. A 15-passenger van picks me up from the train to get me to the campus. Once there, I see all manner of people I have know, in person or by reputation, for over 20 years (okay, nobody goes to camp for 20 years, but go with me here!) There are "good to see you" hugs and stories of our pasts or what we've done since we saw each other last. There are new faces we try to check out.  And there are long cafeteria tables where people eat multiple meals together. And, in addition to multiple meals, there are snacks all day. (Okay, the food is probably beyond that of any sleepaway camp I never went to, but, again, go with me here.)
 
This "soap camp" is not where I imagined a year ago I'd be now. I don't think most of us imagined we would be brought together again, especially in this "bring all the NY soaps together" way. But, for right now, it is the first week back to camp, and it's fun to be back.
 
Let the canoe races and talent shows (that's what you do at camp, right?) begin!

Stamford, Day 1--First Impressions

1. A lot of people do this. The people I am seeing are largely dressed for work and are walking in a way that makes you know they do this every day.
 
2. Notice the title. Not "Soaps, Day 1" or "One Life to Live, Day 1." Clearly, the part that's earth-shattering for me--at least while I'm commuting--is the commute.  I imagine this will change
 
3. I woke up at 4:30am today, pre-alarm, and stayed up.  If I do that regularly, I could do most of the morning things--school lunches and such--that I have been, and still get to a 5:55am train. And how different is 4:30 than 5, really? Okay, it's a little different, but...
 
4. I'd better have things to do on the morning train. It is so quiet, I could very easily fall into a deep sleep and miss my stop.
 
5. Catered lunch at the studio every day, so I don't have to think through packing my own lunch at 4:30am, is huge!
 
6. Even more huge is seeing so many people, many of them old friends, WORKING.
 
More from Stamford and New York tomorrow....

The Joy of Six Free Washers

A few weeks ago, I wrote about euphoria from seven cameras. This post is not that. I didn't have a transcendent moment. But I have to say, after trip one to the laundry room, when the place was so crowded, I headed back upstairs with my piled-high cart of laundry, having trip two start with a view of six wide open large washers lifted at least some small part of my stress on a day filled with arrangements for and anxiety about my first trip to Stamford tomorrow.
 
Somehow, no matter how you try to make work about work and home about home, there can never be a real division. Working efficiently depends on creating structures that allow you to leave home. Managing home efficiently depends on pushing work aside long enough to make sure you (and your kids) will have clean clothes to wear all week. And when fate intervenes to make either side less efficient than it ought to be (what do you mean, I can't do my huge pile of laundry right now?!), it's not pretty.
 
And so it was that the absence of any free large washers just about sent me over the edge, and the sudden appearance of six big empty ones became the most beautiful sight in the world.  The laundry is now back in my apartment--not back in the drawers yet, that's a whole 'nother story--and soon we will work on the sleep part of the home front.
 
Tomorrow, my first report from Stamford (well, at least about Stamford).

And The Winner Is...

As I walked my daughters to their play rehearsal today, their brother scootering along (and usually ahead), one of them began to complain about being cold.  Now I have sympathy for people who are cold--I am almost always cold myself.  Yet the complaining child was wearing a t-shirt, just a t-shirt, under her coat.  I am generally cold despite several long-sleeve layers, and she was complaining while wearing just a t-shirt.  Since we were bordering on being late to rehearsal, going back upstairs for another layer was definitely not an option.  She would just have to be cold.  And get to rehearsal.  So, what began as a tirade about her not thinking about it being winter turned into an entire riff (which distracted us for most of the half-mile walk) about how, while my kids might well be the geniuses of the household, I was the winner, hands-down, of the prize for common sense.  I acknowledged that I can barely help them with their math and science homework (thank goodness my husband can!).  But I very firmly, and actually quite enthusiastically, maintained my position as the unquestioned common sense winner.

At the time, I really just started this to keep us laughing and walking, but as it went on, and even after, I found myself owning that made-up title in a very powerful way.  Job change makes us question every bit of what we know and what we can do, and in that crazy moment today, I realized and celebrated two of my greatest skills--common sense and adaptability.  I took what could have been a complete meltdown and falling apart of our journey and made it a laugh riot.  (Perhaps I should add sense of humor to that skill set.)  I said out loud that I was the winner, the household common sense expert.  And I said it a few more times, just for effect.  While it may not be something I can put on a resume, it is certainly something I will keep in mind when meeting new people and facing new situations.

Thanks to my riff today, we made it to rehearsal on time and not frozen.  I am not convinced that the t-shirt on a winter day thing won't happen again.  But next time, the hands-down common sense winner will once again be on the case.  Because using our strongest skills to tackle the trickiest situations--that's what we winners do.

One Little Word

It was a dreary day, one not conducive to stepping out the door, much less  staying out.  I wrote to the friend I was supposed to meet for lunch, unsure about where to meet, and after several e-mails with no conclusion about a meeting place, the whole idea of meeting at all became overwhelming when put up against staying inside and fighting the battles of getting things done.  So I wrote to say we should cancel, to which, my understanding friend wrote, "Awww."
 
A little word, and yet, one that made all the difference.  One that conveyed that my presence mattered, that my choice affected someone else.
 
All too often, in an effort to avoid pressuring friends or to allow people in our lives to make the decisions, we step back and don't convey how we really feel, when, with just one word, we can remind our friends that they matter.  I was certainly better off having joined my friend for lunch, and yet I would have missed the whole thing if not for that one email response.


So glad for that one little word "Awww."