Work . . . Life . . . Blog?

Yes, I know, my blogging has gotten a big erratic. But I promise there’s a good reason . . . really, I mean that.

When I started the blog I did it with every intention of big things. Three times a week I’d post something. Of course, then work and life stepped in. I had more than 20 blogs in my files, with lots of others planned.  I had a digital calendar that included what would go up when. And I never expected that to not work out.

Enter reality. I work; and I have other things in my life. Like, my daughter had a baby. I could visit her. So what do I say? Sorry, kid, I can’t play with you. I need to blog.

I am as a freelance editor, which means I have to look for work; it doesn't always drop into my lap. Income can be problematic. Most of my work is by referral, and I truly thank anyone who has ever recommended me to their contacts (feel free to send them my way). I take pride in never missing a deadline—and never turning down an assignment. Would you believe that I had a client call begging for help while I was babysitting? And she couldn’t wait—because her client was on her back. I ended up with the baby using one leg to bounce on while she played, and the laptop open on the other leg so I could look up the answer to her question. (By the way, whoever designed that play table that sings, counts, does the alphabet and teaches Spanish, along with other interactive corners, please contact me; I have a few words I'd like to say to you--that shouldn't be said in public.)

Balancing act

Where do I find work/life balance? November was crazy. I edited a book, went onsite with a client—and had another client sending me work for whenever I could get to it. Plus, the granddaughter came to stay for a week. Forget balance, I just wanted to be able to keep my head on straight while I did everything, including house cleaning, baby setup, and meal planning. You think I could blog through that? I’m not that good. The best I could do was set up a bridge table in the bedroom to hold my laptop so I could work while she was in town—and sleeping. (Her parents were sleeping in her mother’s former room, now known as my “office,” if no one else actually needs it.) Still meeting all deadlines, and apparently not causing havoc in my clients’ lives. Phew! And it continued into

I’m not sure we can ever truly get balance in work and life, with or without a blog on the side. Just today I had lunch out with the hubby, went to the supermarket for the weekly shopping, finished fact checking a large job and started the editing. Oh, and then I started to write this blog? I had to; I'm at least making an effort to post more regularly. Don't know if it will work, but consider it a good effort.

Life is always a balancing act, with or without anything we hadn’t planned for—and we all know we can't plan for everything. The victory for me is just in getting up and getting it all done. If I can cross off most of what’s on my list to do in a day, I figure I’m ahead. As for the rest . . . well, I guess it’s time for me to go clean something out, or just work on more blogs – or maybe not. .

Regularly Scheduled Dinner--Maybe      

I do Thanksgiving dinner. Actually, I’ve done it 35 times so I’ve been preparing it regularly since before my children were born. Supposedly, it’s “my” holiday. The only two I missed were when my great-aunt invited my family to join hers (and to bring my in-laws), and last year, when it came out 6 weeks after my granddaughter was born—she was deemed a little young to travel.

But back to my dinner. It’s a blend of traditional turkey/stuffing/cranberry sauce (the usual) with traditional Jewish foods. Potato latkes are a staple and I’ve also been known to serve derma—a stuffing of meat and some form of grain that’s part of a sausage—although that has kind of stopped since we don’t seem to have a decent kosher delicatessen in the area. In the last few years, my older daughter has become the fastest potato peeler anywhere, which makes the latkes a lot easier to do, and my younger daughter consults on the desserts. Everyone offers suggestions for sides. And I improved the turkey when I heard Bobby Flay recommend adding chicken stock to the bottom of the pan. I do that twice—at beginning of cooking and in the last hour—and my husband is singing its praises. Who knew it could be that easy?

The strength in Pyrex

This past Thanksgiving, I had another mission. My granddaughter was past 13 months old and I decided it was time for her to walk. Total success. She arrived here crawling 80% of the time—we reversed that and she left walking 80% of the time. Now she’s almost up to running. Plus, there’s a step down from the kitchen to the family room. She figured that out on her own—although after managing to go down head first and hitting herself. She’s a quick study. She also moves around with a twinkle in her eye that says, “I know you don’t want me to do this but I’m going to try anyway; going to stop me?” Usually, unless it’s dangerous, we don’t because even falling down is a learning experience. The best one came when she realized she could open two cabinet doors at once—walking gave her a new level of reach—and bang them together. She loved it. But, when she managed to pull most of a set of Pyrex bowls out and let them fall onto the floor, even she scared herself. However, it seems that Pyrex when dropped 6 inches is pretty indestructible. Fortunately, it didn’t fall on her very small foot. Once she realized she was fine and there were no terrible repercussions, it was back to door banging. She loved that. Unfortunately, she had to leave, so we’re back to Facetime every weekend, and sometimes during the week. Now that walking was so successful, when we go out in February I'm going to work on getting her talking more. It's time.

Small explosion

On Thanksgiving night, though, after the food was eaten, and leftovers put away, and while the baby was playing with everyone – did I mention that she knew within 15 minutes who her great-aunt was in the room, and who her great-grandmother was? If you asked her, she knew who to look at, which we thought was, was usual, brilliant—I dropped a small grenade into the room. Not even the hubby knew it was coming. It was my last Thanksgiving. It’s not an easy meal to plan, or put together –making the latkes alone, which is done same day, usually takes at least an hour and a half. Plus, I think it needs new blood. I’m happy to buy the food for whatever menu others want, but I’m not getting up so early again to cook it. And my arthritis is really not happy with me that weekend. After 35 dinners, it’s time for me to hang up my potholders and let someone else take it on. I’d even be happy to cater it, if I know what people want; or to go to a restaurant and let them serve it. We won’t discuss the whole set up and clean up issue. I’ll know the verdict on what we do in August, because plans still have to be made. Otherwise, it’s going to be a really small dinner for hubby and I. I'll be able to watch the entire parade.

Reason for Parenting

Reason for Parenting

I’m on a plane back to New Jersey. I was out of town for better than 2 weeks visiting the newest member of the family—my granddaughter, Sela. She is our first grandchild, born to our firstborn daughter. There’s something very poetic about that. And while I’m all right to be heading home, I already miss her. No, she cannot walk or talk, and probably has no idea of who I am, yet to me she is gorgeous, smart, and one of the greatest additions to our lives.

A friend of mine told me that there is an old Welsh proverb, one that I can paraphrase here but also totally agree with: there is no love so pure as that for a grandchild. To that concept I’ll raise a toast (in my case a diet soda or glass of water) and say, “Hear, Hear!” I don’t think there is anything more true Yes, I love my children, but having Sela can only expand our hearts—and theirs.

I have spent a lot of the past 2+ weeks helping my daughter out, and reassuring her that she will be a great mother (which she will) even though she’s getting very little sleep these days. I have ignored the cranky – Sela isn’t cranky, she just can’t talk yet so has to scream to make her feelings known – and been able to hold a grandchild who wants to hold her head up, even though it comes crashing down, usually on her nose, very quickly. Who thinks that standing up is a great idea—although we all know that once she pushes up there is only one way for her to go. She has a lot of patience, although when she’s in her crib and manages to roll to her side you can also see she is startled, trying to figure out where to go from there. Her hand went by her face and she was fixated on it. Helped her stop crying, although she had no idea where it came from—or where it went when she put her hand down.

I’m entranced by a baby’s ability to be totally focused on you for one second, and be totally conked out and sleeping the next. And as she’s sleeping, and making faces, you wonder what she’s dreaming. Most of the time I think they’re good dreams, but there are those grimaces I wonder about—nightmares already? Her life is good. There are regular feeding times, and diaper changes. She already knows the touch of both her parents and instantly calms down if they hold her. So, why the grimaces? Not enough adulation? We’re all in awe of her.

And the Flip Side

 And as I finish this I have to also wonder about the end of life. Less than a week after Sela was born, I lost a friend I held in high regard. No, we weren’t in touch often, but when we did speak we could just pick up where we left off as if no time had passed. Unfortunately, it seems no one I knew had even heard he was sick—and it seems he had been for a long time. But I have to admire him; knowing he was sick he continued to work and travel as much as he could. That’s how he chose to live his life; I can only hope that Sela does as well—and for longer.

A Grandchild Is Coming!
A Grandchild Is Coming!

Finally, it’s coming. We’re going to be grandparents in just a few weeks. My mother will be a great-grandmother. My sister will become a great-aunt, which I suspect she’s more into than she was when she first got nieces. All of our friends are anticipating this event. For us, we’re almost the first in our circles to hit this milestone.

Speaking of my mother, she’s ecstatic. I think she thought it might never happen – her late best friend was up to five of them, but now there is no way to, as they say, “kvell” about it there. But every day I am asked, “What’s the word from Denver? How big is the baby now? I’m telling everyone I know.” I’m with her; I want to talk about it too—to everyone.

Have you seen how many tests the mother-to-be now has to go through? In my day, there was a little blood work, and if there was any concern, maybe an ultrasound. Even amniocentesis didn’t happen too often, and it was usually done only in select hospitals. Now they have whole panels of tests for very specific areas. Ultrasounds are commonplace, with pictures sent home with you. The only one that really bothers me is the digital one, which can show the face of the baby. And there are also prebirth tests to make sure the delivery can’t transfer germs to the baby. Who knew about this stuff years ago? And yet the kids usually arrived just fine.

How do I feel about this? I think I’m ready for the next generation to arrive. I like the idea of another member of the family, although this time I don’t have to be the primary caregiver and will be there for play dates. I’m with the group that believes grandparents are there to provide support—especially mentally and emotionally—but also to play with the kids, wear them out, and then return them to the parents and let them calm the kids down. I’m not sure I’ll overwhelm a kid with sweets though. This time around, it’s just payback.

I haven’t had the heart to tell my daughter and son-in-law that while they’ll always be special people, the grandchild has moved to the top of that ladder.  And what can be more special than that?  It’s the main rule of grandparenthood. Now I make sure to check out baby clothes in every relevant store I pass. Don’t know what we’re getting yet but I’ll be prepared.

Time to get to the big event.