It’s my party

At this point in my life I kind of like getting older. I don’t love the web of wrinkles spreading across the backs of my hands, but I have no problem admitting my age or owning it. It feels like an accomplishment.

So when I say it’s my birthday and I’m having a shitty day it’s not because I’m bummed about aging. It’s just a stressful month at work and things are slipping out of my hands like I’m carrying too many dishes to the sink and some just dropped and shattered. Silly things like getting confused about teacher workday at Oz’s preschool – I thought it was today and arranged for childcare all morning and then I got an email this morning reminding me that it’s actually tomorrow. So I guess tomorrow I’ll just take the morning off and stay home with my kid. But I’m still annoyed that he missed school today.

Anyway, these are little things, nbd, just the fact that it is my birthday makes it seem like a tragedy. And Gimli is out of town on my birthday for the 3rd year in a row which I have to admit does kind of bum me out.

Sir Terry Pratchett died today, so that clinches it – I’m gifting myself the Tiffany trilogy on my Kindle. RIP Sir Terry.

Reboot

It’s my birthday month, which seems to be the point in the year when I do some serious self-reflection, evaluation, and goal-setting. In that spirit, I’ve rebooted my public real-name blog and am planning to resume more regular posting here as well.

Earlier this week Gimli and I had a state-of-the-union conversation, prompted by a critical remark he made Sunday afternoon that sent me into a tailspin of despondency. It wasn’t that major a criticism – he was unhappy that I had neglected to pack a snack for an afternoon outing with the kids, and was annoyed that this forgetfulness seemed to stem from my generalized anxiety about taking the kids to a place we’d never been to before. But it cut to the quick and as I thought and thought about it all uncovered several layers of issues in our relationship that had been simmering and suppressed for a while.

So Monday afternoon we walked home in the rain, stopping at a coffeeshop to shout over the whir of the espresso machines and juicers. It’s all the usual relationship stuff – control, communication, responsibility, roles – but since I (mostly) finished my dissertation we were due for a reboot, a renegotiation. There were plenty of tears but it was so worth it. And the adjustments we are making are minimal but hopefully will reverberate in how we each feel about how the other is doing in our joint management of the household.

I will take responsibility for getting the kids ready for bed, and Gimli will actually get them to go to bed. He will make a list of the calorie values of different food ingredients we often use and I will occasionally make food (my request – I felt like he was controlling everything I eat). On weekends, we will take turns doing things with the kids so each of us can have some time at home alone.

So things are better already.