15 Days

The older I get, the harder it is to write.  I don't know what this is.  I mean, certainly I'm pretty damn busy right now, and I don't have a lot of time to process stuff, let alone write.  But it's not just that.  Lately I've been feeling kind of selfish(secretive) about my interior life. I don't want to share right now.  Sometimes sharing feels like asking - for permission, advice, assurance that everything will be ok - and I don't need any of those things right now.  Like, if you want to tell me how I can get my giant puppy to stop treating my kids like chew toys, feel free to comment below.  But mostly what I have to say is, "I'm content."  The rest of it?  I don't know.  I feel like I just have to get up in the morning, do my best, and then go to bed at night.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  I don't really want to spend energy or time on what it all means, because actually, it probably doesn't mean anything.

So yes, my posts are going to probably sound more like news letters, at least until this passes.  Probably the deepest thing I'm willing to share right now is how overwhelming humanity is in a big city.  THERE ARE SO MANY OF US.  Maybe that's what it is, why I'm so shhhhhhh?  SO MANY PEOPLE.  All of us with our own dramas, this cacophony of thoughts, opinions, tragedies.  I take the dog for a walk, and there are strangers in a house with the door open, just watching the TV, and I am totally overwhelmed with the idea that they have all these things happening.  Work, love, death, new babies.  All of these stories.  Just a few people sitting in one house, my intersection into their lives as tangential as you can make it, and I'm a little overwhelmed by the muchness of it.

I know that overwhelmed feeling is making it hard for me to reach out and make friends - there are too many variables in all these new stories.  If I learned anything in Madison (and oh, I learned so much), it's that friendship is dangerous business and I need to use care in deciding who gets access to me and my family.  I really miss being able to say, "I like you, let's be friends," but when I do that without considering how their stories could fuck with our story, it often ends badly. And right now, I'm reeeeeally loving our story, and I want to give it a chance to unfold, and have it's own drama, and not be subsumed by anyone else.

And like, I know that this is a hallmark of my declination into brittle old age, and it's probably cowardly, and I get it that my kids will bring people, and school will bring people, and so will my husband (I hope), and those are not things I will have a choice about.  But oh, what a magical thing to be new, and have the option of leaving the future wide open.  That's part of it, too.  We have so many options, such a giant opportunity to create what we want in our lives.  Temporary loneliness isn't a huge price to pay for that.  And also, I have friends, although they aren't here, and they are wonderful.  Can't even say that I'm lonely.   That said, here are some things I'm happy to share...

School starts in 15 days.

I need to start going to yoga regularly, now that the house is pretty much unpacked.

 MY DOG.

MY CHILDREN (sooooo happy!)

 Seriously, I need to start some ruts, this is ridiculous, my life is barely real. 

I love my house.

Husband person went to Italy to present at a conference last week.  I now officially own mohair from Italy.  Thanks, babe.

Philadelphia is my favorite now, but I probably miss you.

Dog, Fish, Bridge and the Swimmo - 35 Days

Because everything feels so so so unreal right now, I haven't wanted to post anything.  It all feels like an elaborate lie to me.  I never, ever thought that I would have the life I have right now.

We live in a beautiful apartment that overlooks the Delaware, and the Ben Franklin Bridge is just chilling there outside my upstairs windows.  Our house is modern, spacious and flooded with natural light all day long.  We are almost completely unpacked, and what gets me is that our eclectic mishmash of furniture looks almost like it's been holding it's breath to be here.  Things that looked drab before look like they were carefully selected for the space they inhabit now.  Our things fit here, because we fit here.

We have a gorgeous Great Dane puppy who's sole job is to introduce us to our neighbors, who have been kind and open in accepting us into their hood.  They hang out on their stoops instead of their back yards, and so everyone knows everyone in a way that no one in our last neighborhood did.  Every morning, Cocomaus plays with her dog friend Emmett on the sidewalk, and J (Emmett's human) and I drink coffee and talk about whatever springs to mind.  She's still being potty trained, and she's still learning manners.  But honestly, she's incredibly jovial, flexible and easy to train.

D has a great private school, A is still in flux, but services are starting to roll for him and I feel like everything is going to be ok there.  They'll start summer camp next week.  They've already started free swimming lessons at the Swimmo, the public pool that is literally across the street.  There is so much for them to do here that I doubt we will ever see all of it before we leave for residency.

I start school for real in 35 days.  I start my summer program in a week.   Here's where I gotta get real with everyone.  The next eight years of my life will be physically and emotionally some of the hardest years I've ever had.  Here comes the math.  Each week has 168 hours in it.  I need an average of 6 hours of sleep every night or I go tharn, so 168 - 42 = 126.  I've promised the kids a measly 20 hours of my time/week, so that leaves 106 hours.  Commuting with take another 6 hours, leaving me with 100 hours.  I'll need to do at least 5 hours of exercise per week, so that's 95 hours left.  And I know this for a fact:  School itself will take up 80 hours of each week, more if there are exams.  Yep, lots of people can get away with less, goody for them.  That leaves me 15 hours to shower, eat, write, drink coffee, stare into space, have husband time, walk my dog, do laundry, clean the bathroom, grocery shop, go to parent/teacher conferences, help with homework, pay the bills, decide what to wear every day and talk to friends and family.

From my previous experience, I know that some of my friends will think I'm a selfish douche because I can't spend an hour hashing over their relationship issues.  And I know that some members of my family will believe that I don't love them anymore because I seldom call.  Some people will think I'm a horrible parent, or a stuck up, self absorbed bitch.  The last time, I took all that to heart and tried to accommodate everyone because mostly, I didn't want you to think badly of me and I didn't want you to feel bad, either.  This time I won't.  I'm trying to be a physician to people who need it the most.  I'm trying to change the face of healthcare.  The only way to do that is to have my life be subsumed by my education. and therefore be a person interrupted.  If you ask for more than I can give, you won't get it and I won't apologize.  I'm not being cold.  I'm doing what I came here to do.  I'm doing the thing that makes me feel completely alive.

There are fish everywhere - engraved in the sidewalks, hanging from doorways.  I love this place.