I decided I wanted to do another reading challenge in the new year. I haven't done horribly in reading over the past year, but I do think it's kind of fun to have categories from which you choose and within which other people are working. I decided on the 2019 Monthly Motif Reading Challenge from girlxoxo.com (found through a Google search) because the categories are interesting and quite flexible. It's been a lot of fun researching different books that fit the themes and deciding which ones I'd choose. I'm trying to keep with my goal from the last reading challenge I did by choosing all books written by women, possibly making an exception for books written by men of color if a female author for the category doesn't pop out at me. I don't really want to miss out on great books by white dudes, but they're usually easy to find. It can be harder to find stuff written by women and people of color.
At any rate, I'm excited to start this challenge. I've picked out all my books except for February ("Cover Love") and December ("Last Chance"). Based on the criteria, I won't really be able to pick December's until December gets here. For February, I want to visit a physical bookstore and see what catches my eye. Check out the link (click on the image below) and join me if you want! I'd love to hear what other people are reading and their thoughts on the challenge and their chosen books.
Friday, December 28, 2018
Monday, July 30, 2018
Am I the Only One Who Just Wants One?
I feel like I need some sort of support group for moms who actually ONLY WANT one child. There is so much pressure from...society in general, I guess, that it's hard not to feel guilty or weird for only wanting one child. This is especially true since I don't have any "good" reason (like infertility) other than I don't really like being a parent and want the very young children stage to be over as soon as possible. I never babysat as a teenager because I didn't really like kids. Having one of my own has made me realize I still don't really like kids. Don't get me wrong, I love Junior Mate. I don't love being a parent. I'm not very good at it, and it's exhausting. All I really want is some sleep and more than 1-2 hours to do something I want to do.
At this point, I'd love to find just one other person who understands me on this...one other person who has no desire to have more than one (and maybe even questions whether it was a good idea for them to have the one they have). I want to feel less alone in my weirdness. Sometimes, you think you've found an only child ally, only to discover that they have what society considers legitimate reasons for only having one (usually infertility). My heart hurts for those friends who want more kids but haven't or can't have more for those reasons. But I don't understand that impulse, and I feel a little more alone every time I find out that I'm still the only one I know who is not only happy with an one but has no desire to have another. I mean, to be honest, the main reasons I consider having another child revolve around guilt. I feel guilty for only giving my mom one grandchild (since I'm her only child). I feel guilty not giving Junior Mate someone who, in the future, can share the emotional and/or physical burden of caring for aging parents.
I have two half-siblings from my dad's first marriage, who were 18 and 22 when I was born (and out of the house), and I am my mom's only child. Since I never lived with my half-siblings, and my mom and dad divorced when I was 5, leaving me primarily living with my mom, I consider myself an only child. I had a great childhood - plenty of friends, plenty of quality time with my mom, plenty of time to myself when I wanted it, cousins to play with at family gatherings. I don't really remember feeling lonely that much, at least not any more than I figure is typical for a kid at a given stage in his/her life. It's only now as my mom is getting older that I miss having a sibling. I live about 1000 miles away from my mom, and her health is up and down. It's hard not to be there for her all the time, knowing that there aren't any siblings to take up slack for me. I worry about that for Junior Mate in the future when she has to watch us grow older and less vital than we once were. I don't want to put that burden on her alone. At the same time, though, I'm not really sure I can survive another newborn/infant/toddler. There are days I'm barely making it through this one, and the PPD was bad. I'm afraid that if I had both a toddler/preschooler and a baby, I might not get through that suicidal ideation. I mean, it'd definitely be worse to leave her with no mom than with no sibling, right?
All of this is stuff that's so hard to talk about with other people because women are supposed to want and love children, and we're supposed to want as many as is culturally acceptable (which seems to be somewhere between 2 and 4, since I know several people with 3, which is entirely acceptable, but the ones with 4 get the whole "You know how that happens, right?" speech. Oddly, growing up, I always wanted 3 kids for some reason.) A few things make it harder: 1) I have an alarming number of friends and acquaintances who have had multiple miscarriages and/or cannot get pregnant (a first or following time). It makes me feel profoundly ungrateful and horrible to have gotten pregnant without actively trying and then not really like being a parent. The whole "life is unfair" epithet seems to apply here - women who want multiple children can't seem to have them easily, while I was sort of ambivalent about having one and got pregnant more quickly than I expected. 2) Women are supposed to LOVE being moms, and their children are supposed to be their sun and brightest spots in their lives. I keep wondering when that will happen. I'm glad Junior Mate is here, but I don't love being a mom. I love Junior Mate, but most days, she is not the brightest spot in my life. Most days, the best part of my day is the 1-2 hours after Junior Mate and First Mate have both gone to bed, and I get to sit with the cats and read, watch TV, or sew by myself - no one to have a fit because I'm not watching the right show or because I made her wear underwear, no one expecting attention from me that I only have half the energy to give, no chores staring me in the face (or at least it's easier to ignore them in the evening). 3) There doesn't seem to be anyone safe to talk to about this because you don't want the few friends you've managed to tentatively make since your daughter started preschool to think you're a horrible person and shun you. I just want someone else who is actively making the decision to only have one child...someone who understands. Maybe our kids could even be friends. My best friend growing up was another only child of a single mom (until she turned...14? 15?), and she's like a sister to me, to this day.
You know, the stereotype is that only children are lonely (which wasn't true for me). No one talks about how lonely it can be to be the parent of an only child, particularly if you only wanted one.
At this point, I'd love to find just one other person who understands me on this...one other person who has no desire to have more than one (and maybe even questions whether it was a good idea for them to have the one they have). I want to feel less alone in my weirdness. Sometimes, you think you've found an only child ally, only to discover that they have what society considers legitimate reasons for only having one (usually infertility). My heart hurts for those friends who want more kids but haven't or can't have more for those reasons. But I don't understand that impulse, and I feel a little more alone every time I find out that I'm still the only one I know who is not only happy with an one but has no desire to have another. I mean, to be honest, the main reasons I consider having another child revolve around guilt. I feel guilty for only giving my mom one grandchild (since I'm her only child). I feel guilty not giving Junior Mate someone who, in the future, can share the emotional and/or physical burden of caring for aging parents.
I have two half-siblings from my dad's first marriage, who were 18 and 22 when I was born (and out of the house), and I am my mom's only child. Since I never lived with my half-siblings, and my mom and dad divorced when I was 5, leaving me primarily living with my mom, I consider myself an only child. I had a great childhood - plenty of friends, plenty of quality time with my mom, plenty of time to myself when I wanted it, cousins to play with at family gatherings. I don't really remember feeling lonely that much, at least not any more than I figure is typical for a kid at a given stage in his/her life. It's only now as my mom is getting older that I miss having a sibling. I live about 1000 miles away from my mom, and her health is up and down. It's hard not to be there for her all the time, knowing that there aren't any siblings to take up slack for me. I worry about that for Junior Mate in the future when she has to watch us grow older and less vital than we once were. I don't want to put that burden on her alone. At the same time, though, I'm not really sure I can survive another newborn/infant/toddler. There are days I'm barely making it through this one, and the PPD was bad. I'm afraid that if I had both a toddler/preschooler and a baby, I might not get through that suicidal ideation. I mean, it'd definitely be worse to leave her with no mom than with no sibling, right?
All of this is stuff that's so hard to talk about with other people because women are supposed to want and love children, and we're supposed to want as many as is culturally acceptable (which seems to be somewhere between 2 and 4, since I know several people with 3, which is entirely acceptable, but the ones with 4 get the whole "You know how that happens, right?" speech. Oddly, growing up, I always wanted 3 kids for some reason.) A few things make it harder: 1) I have an alarming number of friends and acquaintances who have had multiple miscarriages and/or cannot get pregnant (a first or following time). It makes me feel profoundly ungrateful and horrible to have gotten pregnant without actively trying and then not really like being a parent. The whole "life is unfair" epithet seems to apply here - women who want multiple children can't seem to have them easily, while I was sort of ambivalent about having one and got pregnant more quickly than I expected. 2) Women are supposed to LOVE being moms, and their children are supposed to be their sun and brightest spots in their lives. I keep wondering when that will happen. I'm glad Junior Mate is here, but I don't love being a mom. I love Junior Mate, but most days, she is not the brightest spot in my life. Most days, the best part of my day is the 1-2 hours after Junior Mate and First Mate have both gone to bed, and I get to sit with the cats and read, watch TV, or sew by myself - no one to have a fit because I'm not watching the right show or because I made her wear underwear, no one expecting attention from me that I only have half the energy to give, no chores staring me in the face (or at least it's easier to ignore them in the evening). 3) There doesn't seem to be anyone safe to talk to about this because you don't want the few friends you've managed to tentatively make since your daughter started preschool to think you're a horrible person and shun you. I just want someone else who is actively making the decision to only have one child...someone who understands. Maybe our kids could even be friends. My best friend growing up was another only child of a single mom (until she turned...14? 15?), and she's like a sister to me, to this day.
You know, the stereotype is that only children are lonely (which wasn't true for me). No one talks about how lonely it can be to be the parent of an only child, particularly if you only wanted one.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Captain's Log Stardate 121717: The Old Me
When you're not sure if your total lack of passion for anything is because of the depression, the antidepressants, or just getting older and more cynical. Or maybe all of it. Or none of it.
I miss old me. Or I guess, more accurately, I miss younger me. Maybe I'm also missing an older me that will be happier and feel more like someone worth being around. I recently titrated down on my antidepressants. Things were going pretty well, and I thought maybe I was getting ready to move away from the antidepressants. Now I'm not sure if what I'm experiencing is because I need to stay on the slightly higher dose or if there's some situational stuff (including winter's arrival) going on. When I first tried an antidepressant, I didn't like it because it made me flat. It's not like I felt happier, I just sort of felt nothing. Having always been a rather sensitive and emotionally volatile person, I didn't really like that. I've realized recently that I've been sort of flat for a while. It didn't really bother me now that I have a kid because it's more important to be able to function with a toddler around. Lately, though, I keep trying to remember the last time I actually felt happy. You know, that kind of happy that you feel deep inside, and not just in your head? I'm not sure if other people experience those things in the same way I do, but that's sort of what I'm missing. I'm missing those deep emotions that I feel deep inside rather than just surface. I even miss that painful feeling of deep sadness. I'm tired of that smile being something fleeting that just covers my face but doesn't reach my core. The problem is, I'm not sure that going off the antidepressants will work because I don't think I'll be able to function well enough to take care of Junior Mate. Whether or not the cause is titrating down on the antidepressants, I'm clearly having a low period, and it's just not possible for me to take the kind of care of her I think she deserves when I spend half the day weeping.
I know I need to make some friends and start to have a social life, too, but it's hard to do because I just don't feel like someone worth hanging out with right now. Younger Captain was great, sure, but Current Captain doesn't feel like someone I'd want to hang out with. I'm getting kind of tired of her, honestly. It doesn't help that, on top of feeling sort of meh about myself, I'm constantly tired, both from having a toddler and from chronically not getting quite enough sleep. The depression also just limits my general energy for things, so there are only so many things I can do/people I can be around in a day before I just need to be home. And that level varies so that some days it's practically nil, while other days I can do several things. It makes it hard to want to say yes to things I may be invited to because I don't want to flake out at the last minute. Honestly, life just generally isn't how I imagined it would be, and I often feel like I just wasn't made for adulthood - like I'm not able to survive the monotony and pressures of adulthood.
I'm not writing to get people to feel sorry for me. I just needed to get these thoughts onto paper to help me organize them and process them. I sort of generally need to start writing more again, I think. I guess I need to figure out how to prioritize what I actually need to do to help me, rather than just, you know, TV that lets me just veg out. I guess I need to actively process sometimes.
I miss old me. Or I guess, more accurately, I miss younger me. Maybe I'm also missing an older me that will be happier and feel more like someone worth being around. I recently titrated down on my antidepressants. Things were going pretty well, and I thought maybe I was getting ready to move away from the antidepressants. Now I'm not sure if what I'm experiencing is because I need to stay on the slightly higher dose or if there's some situational stuff (including winter's arrival) going on. When I first tried an antidepressant, I didn't like it because it made me flat. It's not like I felt happier, I just sort of felt nothing. Having always been a rather sensitive and emotionally volatile person, I didn't really like that. I've realized recently that I've been sort of flat for a while. It didn't really bother me now that I have a kid because it's more important to be able to function with a toddler around. Lately, though, I keep trying to remember the last time I actually felt happy. You know, that kind of happy that you feel deep inside, and not just in your head? I'm not sure if other people experience those things in the same way I do, but that's sort of what I'm missing. I'm missing those deep emotions that I feel deep inside rather than just surface. I even miss that painful feeling of deep sadness. I'm tired of that smile being something fleeting that just covers my face but doesn't reach my core. The problem is, I'm not sure that going off the antidepressants will work because I don't think I'll be able to function well enough to take care of Junior Mate. Whether or not the cause is titrating down on the antidepressants, I'm clearly having a low period, and it's just not possible for me to take the kind of care of her I think she deserves when I spend half the day weeping.
I know I need to make some friends and start to have a social life, too, but it's hard to do because I just don't feel like someone worth hanging out with right now. Younger Captain was great, sure, but Current Captain doesn't feel like someone I'd want to hang out with. I'm getting kind of tired of her, honestly. It doesn't help that, on top of feeling sort of meh about myself, I'm constantly tired, both from having a toddler and from chronically not getting quite enough sleep. The depression also just limits my general energy for things, so there are only so many things I can do/people I can be around in a day before I just need to be home. And that level varies so that some days it's practically nil, while other days I can do several things. It makes it hard to want to say yes to things I may be invited to because I don't want to flake out at the last minute. Honestly, life just generally isn't how I imagined it would be, and I often feel like I just wasn't made for adulthood - like I'm not able to survive the monotony and pressures of adulthood.
I'm not writing to get people to feel sorry for me. I just needed to get these thoughts onto paper to help me organize them and process them. I sort of generally need to start writing more again, I think. I guess I need to figure out how to prioritize what I actually need to do to help me, rather than just, you know, TV that lets me just veg out. I guess I need to actively process sometimes.
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Seed of Action Day 2: Thank you Sandra Day O'Connor
March 2, 2017
Dear Former Justice O'Connor,
You don't know me, but I am participating in a 40 day program called "Seeds to Scatter" in which the participants do one small "seed of action" each day. Today's "seed of action" was to write a letter to a civil servant who has taken a stand for women's rights. I'm going to be honest - I don't really know that much about you, and I haven't studied your opinions on the cases over which you were judge. However, I will never forget how proud I felt when I learned in elementary school about the first female Supreme Court Justice, Sandra Day O'Connor, appointed the year I was born. (I hope that doesn't make you feel too old!) I don't know your history on women's rights issues, but for me, the mere fact that you broke the ceiling to become the first female Supreme Court Justice inspires me and gives me hope. Additionally, the fact that your appointment happened within my relatively short lifetime reminds me to celebrate the advancements we have made while continuing to work for improvements in women's rights and equality. I've never been interested in politics or in law, but your role in our nation's history told a 10 year old girl that she could become someone who made a difference in our country, no matter her gender. For that, I thank you for your civil service. May you continue to work for good.
Sincerely,
~First Mate, Starship Hecate
Dear Former Justice O'Connor,
You don't know me, but I am participating in a 40 day program called "Seeds to Scatter" in which the participants do one small "seed of action" each day. Today's "seed of action" was to write a letter to a civil servant who has taken a stand for women's rights. I'm going to be honest - I don't really know that much about you, and I haven't studied your opinions on the cases over which you were judge. However, I will never forget how proud I felt when I learned in elementary school about the first female Supreme Court Justice, Sandra Day O'Connor, appointed the year I was born. (I hope that doesn't make you feel too old!) I don't know your history on women's rights issues, but for me, the mere fact that you broke the ceiling to become the first female Supreme Court Justice inspires me and gives me hope. Additionally, the fact that your appointment happened within my relatively short lifetime reminds me to celebrate the advancements we have made while continuing to work for improvements in women's rights and equality. I've never been interested in politics or in law, but your role in our nation's history told a 10 year old girl that she could become someone who made a difference in our country, no matter her gender. For that, I thank you for your civil service. May you continue to work for good.
Sincerely,
~First Mate, Starship Hecate
Sunday, January 1, 2017
Captain's Log Stardate 010117: Mighty Decent
As I was feeding the cats last night and anticipating the new year, I remembered a moment from middle school in which someone did something mighty decent for me. I don't remember exactly what recalled the memory for me, but it made me happy to remember that even middle school boys can be decent people ;). Then I realized that, coming from a year with lots of stress and sorrows, it would be a great way to bring in the new year: remembering the mighty decent things people have done for you. I know there are plenty of things I won't remember now, but I would like to make a list starting today to which I will hopefully add as the year progresses. This way, I can remember how good people CAN be when things aren't so great. And sometimes, those little moments that probably mean nothing to the other person can help you remember that there is still good in the world, even when you just remember them later in life. So here is a start to a list of mighty decent things people have done for me, updated as I recall them. I think I will start a separate list for 2017.
I have to give the first line to my mom, who has done innumerable mighty decent things for me over the years, too many to name or recount. She is the person who taught me the value of mighty decent things and has shown me through action what it looks like to be a mighty decent person.
Next, a line for my parents-in-law, who raised a good man and continue to model decency for their grandchildren. They are extremely generous with both their time and their resources, and they take new friends and family members into their family as if they've always been there.
Now just a list (in chronological order, to be amended as I remember things)
7th grade: Josh W, for calling a poor little smitten girl (for whom I doubt he returned any feelings) on the phone after a really bad day just to apologize for a mean thing someone else had said.
9th grade: Marie M B, for coming over to see me when my dad died and bringing me a dark colored dress to wear to his funeral.
10th(?) grade: Wes B, for standing up for my character to my ex, even though we weren't really friends at that point
12th grade: Erin M P, for hand-making a beautiful butterfly pillow for me for my 18th birthday
2003(?): Jen S, for sending me a StoryPeople Art clip to remind of the sunshine during my first gray winter
2004: Triumph Baptist Church, especially Mrs. Hall, for putting up my team in one of their rental properties when our heater was broken the coldest week of the year
2016: Wendy A, for offering to take my dying grandmother into her and my uncle's house to insure that she had the love and care she needed
I have to give the first line to my mom, who has done innumerable mighty decent things for me over the years, too many to name or recount. She is the person who taught me the value of mighty decent things and has shown me through action what it looks like to be a mighty decent person.
Next, a line for my parents-in-law, who raised a good man and continue to model decency for their grandchildren. They are extremely generous with both their time and their resources, and they take new friends and family members into their family as if they've always been there.
Now just a list (in chronological order, to be amended as I remember things)
7th grade: Josh W, for calling a poor little smitten girl (for whom I doubt he returned any feelings) on the phone after a really bad day just to apologize for a mean thing someone else had said.
9th grade: Marie M B, for coming over to see me when my dad died and bringing me a dark colored dress to wear to his funeral.
10th(?) grade: Wes B, for standing up for my character to my ex, even though we weren't really friends at that point
12th grade: Erin M P, for hand-making a beautiful butterfly pillow for me for my 18th birthday
2003(?): Jen S, for sending me a StoryPeople Art clip to remind of the sunshine during my first gray winter
2004: Triumph Baptist Church, especially Mrs. Hall, for putting up my team in one of their rental properties when our heater was broken the coldest week of the year
2016: Wendy A, for offering to take my dying grandmother into her and my uncle's house to insure that she had the love and care she needed
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