Tunnel Vision

I have not forgotten about this writing platform.  It crosses my mind but most often I think, "I have so little time and so many other things about which to write, let's put that on hold."  And then, something irksome just hits me, sticks with me, and won't let me go.  So I write.

For eleven months I have put most of my life aside so I can get out of the way something I wish I had never let it - that is no secret.  My jealous mistress - the diss. - waits in the wings, breathes down my neck, and reminds me incessantly that "she" is my priority.  And she has to be - or else I don't think I could handle what is required of me to actually complete this ginormous undertaking.  So while I have a huge desire to support my marriage, raise my children, further my career, visit my family and contribute my time and talents to my community, I am locked into an academic vortex.  Tunnel vision.

Another part of this lifestyle is acting completely apathetic to the cares and concerns around me.  It is not intentional but I cannot attend every birthday party, every jewelry party, every gym class or every fundraiser.  THIS part of the equation is not new to me - I have been in graduate school for ten years (law school) and have gotten well-versed in this exchange.

In order to keep this tunnel vision I am blessed: I live so far away from a huge portion of my family that I can, quite literally, avoid all family stressors.  But then again, I am cursed: I live so far away from a huge portion of my family that I cannot, quite literally, be involved.

I don't know what is hardest to learn: my grandmother is confused about a huge life change over which she has no control; or my mother is distraught over a huge life change over which she has control but knows what's best.  I don't know what is hardest to accept: I cannot drive over to my grandmother and play cards with her and give her a hug; or I can't have coffee with my mother to let her talk out her frustrations and give her a hug.  I don't know what is hardest to realize: I can't offer any help to any single one of my family members. at. all; or that I must continue to focus solely on myself in order to get myself out of this mess and move on with my life.

My mother has always been my rock.  She is my rock because she is strong, solid, smart and spiritual.  I have no delusions of her weaknesses - I can't say I know them all but I know they are there. What I wish is that I didn't have to have tunnel vision.  What I wish is that I could be someone on which she could rely.  What I wish is that her sentiments weren't so on point. (http://lampandlighthouse.blogspot.com/2014/04/an-issue-of-heart.html?spref=fb)  What I wish is that life weren't so messy.  I wish for her what I wish for my children - that I can get out of this and give 100% more to everyone.

In All Fairness

Today was great for a variety of reasons.  Good office day; good dissertation day: nothing about which to complain.  But it was also a crappy day.  It was my only week night at home with my family - supposed to be good, right?  And maybe I put too much stock in that.  Because the nights when I am home I feel I need to not only see my children and be with them, but also tidy a bit, take over as much as possible for dinner, do the laundry, sort through the mail... you know, everything else.

And maybe it is less about what time I have, but more about how I see the time that others have, and the - yup - jealously - I have...  See my day is this:
5am: Diss.
7am: Get myself and girls ready and off to school.
8am-5pm (or later): Work.
5pm, if schedule allows: Get girls and go home.
5:30pm: come home, tidy up from the other days/nights I've not been around, try to change out of work clothes quickly, make sure I'm reading everything from the pre-school so I don't miss a beat, read mail, pay bills, do laundry, etc.
6pm: Dinner.
6:30pm: Dishes.
7pm: Read a draft of something while I watch Sesame Street with girls.
8pm: bed time with girls
8:30pm: diss or work-work until 11pm.
Then bed.

So let's break this down a bit - just a bit.  What do you think is the most valuable part of my day? 7-8am and 5-8pm - the time with my family (four hours).  But do you see what I have to do during those times?  I am rushing the girls in the morning and in the evening I'm herding them here and there to tidy and put things away and try and read them books out loud while rushing around to read mail, pay bills, do laundry... yadda yadda yadda.

I'm not a single mother; I'm not in an unfulfilling marriage.  I'm blessed with a husband who is an amazing father.  I'm a happy career woman and I manage my time well.  But today I come home and - again my ONLY night home - I do all the things that ease my guilt about being gone many nights... and I completely missed time with my girls.

Whether this is a gender thing... I do not know, but I pose this question: For fathers who work late/often, when they are home do they do housework or do they spend time with their children?  Is it my own complex of what causes guilt that is getting in my way and causing me to clean away the time I should spend with my children?  And none of that can matter because any night home is my night to give Tim a break from the large responsibility he has every other night (where, by the way, clutter piles up).

It is likely that this post is my own type of therapy, to explain why the girls hardly paid any attention to me tonight but instead clung to my husband; why when it was time for bed one chose my husband over me, and why the other child is acting out all over the place.

I'm not going to make much more of this but I wanted to write it all out.  This is temporary - at least to this extent.  I know my girls, love them, they love me, etc.  I'm not worried.  But the nights that don't work out in my favor are nights I'd rather not experience.

Lesson?  I should just stop cleaning  :-)

FROM FAT (Tuesday) to FOCUS to FORWARD to FINISHED

So truth is, I'm just writing this post because it's been a while and I should let you know I'm still "here."  It's FAT Tuesday today.  I'm psyched more than normal because this means today I might really go a little crazy with the calories.  Tomorrow, Lent begins and I'm going to put my best foot forward to make this a Lent that counts.

If, as I have for the past nine months or so, I treat this dissertation as part of God's plan for me, than to really devote myself to the life I have - which is a life where I have a family I cherish and a job that really matters to me - I must FOCUS.  I must hunker down and get through this.  It means I must also continue to spend as much, and a little bit more, time at work maintaining that part of my life too.  And you do the math: a lot of time on dissertation + more time at work = REAL attention to my family as to how I can make the time I DO have with them, count the most.

And still I'm going to try, with absolutely no promises, to workout a little bit.  Lord knows I want to, I know what to do, what classes to take, when and where they take place, etc. but I've put dissertation and work first - because I have to.  I've been spending 2 to 6 hours outside of the typical work day on this dissertation and/or work projects - more on Saturdays and Sunday.  But still, I am going to try a one-mile challenge for all of Lent.  While I've maintained my weight, I do have some weight to lose and I've gone no where in the past month in that regard.  And while this is a time for me to focus on my job and my dissertation, I think 15 minutes per day to get ready, run and cool down really is a length of time I can sacrifice.  Best part is, I'll feel good; I'll feel HUMAN again.  My six flight-climb and descent every day isn't quite cutting it; and no matter how far away I park I just end up late and flustered :-)

In the past I've picked deadlines, counted down to the end of this dissertation endeavor, and then made up excuses as to why the deadline wasn't met at that particular time.  A huge reason for this is that I've made those projections without the input of my Chair.  And see, he is where my metaphorical (and I suppose actual, if you count tuition) "buck stops."  If he don't like it, don't no one like it.  And actually, that is a good thing - he will not let me step into that defense room until he HE is willing to defend my dissertation.  While I do have a date in mind, for now, I'll get through Lent putting my best foot forward to FOCUS.  I have 40 days and 40 nights.  Hint: That is JUST under half of the number of days I envision until I submit my draft to my committee.  If I can make this 40 days count, maybe I'll be on the better side of this (as in FINISHED) come the second half of 2014...

Love is…

A note from your husband telling you he can’t wait for you to finish your dissertation for selfish reasons – that he’d like to spend time with you again.  And while I know that is true, I suspect that my finishing would be pleasant for him because he would no longer be a single dad for most of the week.  To him, my finishing soon would mean that I could either work late at night or early in the morning or all weekend – not all three, every day, every week, endlessly.

And if, for one minute, I allow myself to bask in the glory of that wonderful message – that my husband, my best friend, is getting impatient to spend time with me again – I am vulnerable to an increasingly apparent fact in my life:  I am so damned lucky.   It is a vulnerability of sorts because I do, in fact, have everything in the world that I want.  And to finish this large project and be with my family, to finally be a part of their growth, love, laughter, cries, frustrations… phew!  Awesomeness.

Folks, the best part is: I’m on track for the deadline I set a month ago.  It hasn’t been easy – I wake at 4:30am, go to bed at midnight, and work all day Saturday.  I no longer go to the gym.  I sometimes have to do work instead of research, but I’m still on track and that is what counts.  I’m not revealing my deadline because I feel that the I sort of get jinxed every time I do, but I’m close enough that I think I’ll be confident to tell you in March.  And at this rate, that may be the next time I post.

Love is… the best family in the world – beyond my husband, of course – but especially my husband.

Relative Fun

I’m here and it’s time to hold true to my promise.  And as anyone who’s been “following” my experience can attest, holding true to my promise has been difficult. I’ve not done it.   I started counting down 100 days so that I’d be done with my diss. sometime in December 2013.  Then it was sometime in April 2014.  I’ve been having trouble truly gauging the time it takes for me to finish tasks.  The truth is that it was and will be neither.   I have an idea of when but I’m no longer going to publish it until I get a better sense of how I spend my time.  I realize that for most people this has become similar to the boy crying wolf… no one really considers what I promise because I’ve yet to deliver.

And so now I’m here and it’s time to hold true to my promise.  Where am I?  Aruba.  What promise?  To continue to work on my dissertation every day while I’m here. “Give yourself a break.”  “Take time off.”  “Get some rest.”  “Enjoy time with your family.”  I’ve heard it all for almost ten years (I started law school in the fall of 2004 and haven’t been out of graduate school since).  But I listen to none of it.  In fact, those statements got me into this mess.  There is always something in which I could participate that “means something.”  Every single day I make the trade off.  And so what?  I’m here in a tropical place typing on a computer.  I’m working.  Yup, I am.

I’m here with relatives and it’s fun, so yes, “Relative Fun.”  But I’m here having fun while working, so arguably fun is relative because I AM working.  And it is what I’m going to do until I’m done with this dissertation.  I’m making progress though. I look back and think about all of my bad habits, my well-intentioned “breaks,” the vacations, the family-time:  I see how I got in this situation.

I’ve done 2 hours of work today, already, and this is only my first full day here.  That is more than I sometimes get in a day at home if I work late at my job.  I don’t want to break these habits.  This is about being done.  This is about investing time.  This IS about having fun with my family some day, some time, uninhibited, guiltless…but not now.  My girls understand and frankly they’ve never known differently.  This is my relative fun and it’s what I’ve got and what I’ve known for almost ten years. 

Don’t worry though – this is my first full football game I’ve seen this entire year – GO PATS!

Repent

I just got to work but I'm going to take about ten minutes to get these thoughts out.  While this blog has recently been dedicated to the trials and tribulations of my dissertation writing, I am going to "get religious on you."

I'm currently fasting.  While it is a very difficult type of fast (no meat, dairy, sugar, alcohol, caffeine, or processed foods - try cooking for your family when you can even lick your fingers ONCE!) I actually really enjoy it and look forward to it.  I'm on day 6 which means I've gotten over the blood-sugar low of days 2 & 3.

But while I am fasting my belly, so to speak, the point is really to find a focus for prayer with God.  And anyone who has read this blog or talked to me about what I do in my free time would know what my focus is: my dissertation, duh.  And specifically, my focus for worship with God, for this year's fast, is how I stay motivated.  Anyone who has read my posts on this blog or on FB would know that I am a manic graduate student - up and down; it'll get done, it'll never get done.

Meanwhile, I've been gaining weight.  What does this have to do with anything?  Well, I wish "nothing" but the problem is "everything."  I am such a balanced character, and maybe it is because I grew up learning my academic and studying skills while dancing 15 hours a week, that I cannot find the time to write if I don't balance it with exercise.  I cannot separate the brain function of thinking and brainstorming with the necessity of adrenaline from a good workout.  Otherwise, I find myself square in front of the television mentally harping on who I am, what I am doing, my waste of time, episode after episode.

So today I read my daily devotion for the Daniel Fast and it was about the word "repent."  While it is usually used to "be sorry" it can also mean "to reconsider or think differently."  Another blog I read about dissertation-writing is entitled, "Old ideas and new perspectives."  Add that to the fact that I have somehow found a way to exercise and write (and raise my family and work my job) and I would say that God is helping me to repent; the fast is helping me to take my old ideas and apply new perspectives. 

It's Day 4. Here's to hoping (I say that a lot, I know) I can keep this up and that this blog is not just another "high" in my manic graduate student career.

#thedanielfast #lelizlaw

The Stress of "Blessed"

It is the scariest thing in the world to know you have everything you could ever want.  Because one day, something will go away; something will come; something will change.

I never quite know what to say when my daughter cheers at the sight of the ambulance or the fire truck.  DO NOT mistake me: these emergency responders are heroes.  But their presence leads me to believe the obvious: someone is in trouble.  And I am fully aware that my blessings are so great that I should only expect that one day, a call to me will be made to say that that ambulance is helping someone important to me.

And why is it that I have an uncomfortable tickle in my gut whenever Tim is 10 minutes late?  I am not a worry wart.  But I do, to some extent, prepare myself for something that only seems natural for someone who has everything anyone could want: loss.  It makes sense: if your sum total is 100, and that is the maximum sum possible, the only direction is down - a loss.

For the most part, it keeps me grounded, humble and responsive.  This feeling reminds me to allow Kenzie to shove in every single caloric French fry in my mouth, at the expense of my hip measurement.  It encourages me to spend 30 minutes putting Samara to bed when it is really only a ten minute process.  This feeling tells me that I have everything; be not only thankful, but prepared.

And there is nothing more to say.  No conclusion; no solution.  I know God will only give me as much as I can handle and I truly do not know how I will handle the loss that is inevitable.  Images flash of the cries that will tear my body apart upon the loss of my husband, children, parents or sisters.  And I suppose the loss that occurs in only the natural way - death brought on by age - will maybe be less painful but the pain will still be there: ripe and raw.