I don’t often venture directly into political discussion, either in this blog or in real life, in part because that is not where my passion lies, and in part because I don’t like divisiveness.

Nevertheless, I am a bit political in how I live (trying to be greener; believing strongly in certain left wing causes, etc.) and so I do care about who ends up leading the country.  After 8 years of Bush, I am eager to see a change in leadership in the U.S.

I’m a member of MoveOn.org and today they asked me to vote on which of the two front-runner Democrats– the only candidates, really — I would prefer to endorse. I had to think hard about it.

The most important outcome is the general election. I want so badly to avoid another 4 years of ring-wingers. So I came to think about these two fine candidates, Hillary and Barack, and tried to imagine each of them up against, it seems likely, John McCain.

Do white men always win the presidential election?

Well, so far they have.

The Dems no longer *have* their white male front-runner, as Edwards has stepped down and pledged support to Obama.

At the most basic of levels, we are now looking at a general election of White Man versus either White Woman or Black Man. Yes, this is a major simplification.

But looking at elections in the most plain and simplified way is sometimes the very easiest thing to consider. I want to emphasize here that all three of these candidates are WAY MORE than their Race and Sex. Yet we’re looking at an historical first here: The President of the United States, chief of the Executive Branch, has always, always, been held by one kind of person– a white male.

Our country is ready for change, isn’t it? So… if so, I want to know, is the United States of American more sexist or more racist? Which one of these firsts will be the hardest to achieve?

Hard call, isn’t it?

(I haven’t decided on what I think the answer to this question is, but I have decided on which candidate I want to win the primary. I’m not telling. Yet.)

As they say in the kindergarten at C’s school after show and tell…

“Questions and comments, please!”

A while back, I started a series about my work life (that hunk of my life that does not involve hanging out with C and A) and followed that up with another component of what I do. Now that I have another job starting in just two weeks, I feel it’s time to finish up this series and simultaneously consider how my current work schedule will shift to help offset my budding career as a teacher.

In addition to the web hosting and email services that my business offers, I manage to squeeze out a few new websites each year.  I’ve done website re-designs for various individuals and small organizations: a playwright, a  photographer, a glass-work artist, a school for Chinese arts and language (in NYC, in Chinatown!), as well as for a union… to name a few examples without um, actually naming them.

Since I accepted the job offer to teach in the after school program at C’s school, I’ve turned down two new clients. I have decided to not take on any new web design projects until at least the fall, and not any then either if I continue to teach.

Web design is a time consuming art. I find that it generally is rewarding, but frustrating for me, because I like to finish things up quickly, sit back and admire them, and more on to the next thing. With web design, I’ve found that I am always trying to hit a moving target. The client wants XYZ done, so you put up XYZ as closely as you know how. Then, looking at it, the client will usually say, OH, I meant I wanted it to be more of a “peppy” feeling… so can you try for XYZzzz? The vagueness of such requests leaves me trying out this and that, poking the design here, adding a graphic there.

Developing cute graphics is something I enjoy doing, but again, it’s a big time drain. I spent about 3 hours yesterday developing an ADORABLE guitar pick for a folk singer’s website that I am developing. The pick is meant to be a button that catches the visitor’s eye, and on the pick it says “Join Mailing List”.  I love the pick. Alas, I have to face the fact that it doesn’t really work with the other graphics on the page, and I might not even get to use it.

Why, you might ask, am I still developing a site for someone when I just wrote that I was turning down new work? Well the reason is that I committed to doing this prior to even applying for the job. I didn’t think I’d be hired, and this is a pretty famous client.

So here I am, working with an artist who’s pretty famous, trying to make his website less “square.”

Oh boy! It’s pretty neat, though, and I do enjoy the creative aspects of laying out a page, and manipulating CSS and graphics.  I have a little book I use constantly, it’s Eric A. Meyer’s CSS Pocket Reference. This little gem is like a bible to me, though some parts of it are as inscrutable as the Old Testament itself.

One of my favorite sections of this book deals with Layout. Laying out a page is the most important part of what I do. I like webpages that are clear, uncrowded, and with good navigation. So laying out the page is really important.

I have read the section entitled “Layout of Absolutely Positioned Elements” over and over and over. You’ll love it, too. The sub-section titles alone titillate me. For example:
“Horizontal layout of nonreplaced absolutely positioned elements”

I read that and shudder. The complex equations that follow it make me drool and stare  vacant-eyed. Each time I re-read this section, I’m that closer to knowing what the hell I’m doing.

Then, I go muck around with my stylesheets and just see what happens.

Hah! So I’m very professional, you see.  I do try very hard to put together something that works consistently, doesn’t set off any “bad code” alarms in any browsers, and I try to avoid ugliness at all times.

The other painful part of doing web design is when a client specifically requests something that I think should be avoided at all times.  “Can this headline blink?” Uh, no. ” Can’t we just have all the text be done as graphics?”  No, that would be really a bad idea. “I think the background should be this clip art snowflake pattern over and over again.” Gee…

When all is said and done, good web design takes time, patience, and negotiation skills. As for me, I no longer have much time, or patience. I’m saving up my negotiation skills for when it’s time to do A’s hair and she doesn’t want the brush to come within two feet of her head.

In spite of these frustrations, I’d better hurry up and make this folk singer’s website less “square.”
All in good time, you know. But the snowflakes? Have. To. Go.

This morning we got to C’s school at 8:22 AM, eight minutes before school “begins”. We were the first ones to get up to C’s classroom. It was great.

I discovered a couple of things that made us later to school than I even thought. One big thing is that the clock in my car was slow by about 3 minutes. This  explains why I thought we’d  “made it just in time” but in fact we were late by the time we crossed the street and climbed the stairs to her classroom.

Another thing that is helping us be on time (early! wow we were early!) is that Drob is getting up and helping get C dressed for school while I go downstairs and pull together the breakfast. Lunches are being made the night before.

Finally, and this is the really important one — I have to limit my own computer time in the evenings and go to bed at a reasonable hour.

That’s a hard one; but one that I have to face. I have a sort of addictive personality– computer usage is stimulating and addictive to me so I need to make a conscious effort to keep it under control.

We’re regrettably late for school nearly EVERY DAY. Today I had a conference with C’s second grade teacher and was surprised to find how upsetting it is for me to be reminded of our continual failure to be on time.

I find it humiliating, arriving late for school - it is really hard to manage each morning. I have a hard time waking up, a hard time getting everything ready for the day, getting out the door, and it seems like there is always a delay of some kind. The shoes can’t be found. The homework’s not done. The lunch isn’t ready. Someone’s hat. Someone’s glasses. Someone’s keys can’t be found.

Different problems, different days.

Then today I went to this conference, thinking it may be raised as an issue, but not a HUGE issue, not a HARD TO DISCUSS issue. It was really hard. I ending up crying which made me feel like a fool, an idiot, and a nutbag.

This is especially hard when one is a new employee and one’s co-workers now have seen one crying and being a blubbering pathetic idiot who can’t even arrive to school on time each day.

I am so ashamed. Of my tardiness. Of my emotional reactions. Of my apparent inability to do what everyone else apparently does with such ease and panache. I feel like a failure- which wouldn’t be such a big deal if I hadn’t been trying so damn hard.

It’s one thing to be a screw up thanks to being a slacker, an un-caring person who just doesn’t give a damn (that’s not me). If that were the case, I’d at least be uncaring and indifferent. I wouldn’t be SUFFERING! OH THE SUFFERING!  But no, I failed over and over and over again to be on time to school when it’s been pointed out to me that it’s soooo important… and that was with actually trying very very hard to get there.  It makes feel so despondent. How can I possibly do this when I’ve failed all along.

It’s not like I haven’t been trying Every. Single. Day. Since. September.

Oh and this being late in the morning is by no means limited to this year. It’s been a nearly daily sense of shame and failure ever since C was a pre-pre-schooler and her teachers gave me a daily dose of the hairy eyeball for having arrived too late.

In fact I can trace our tardiness problem back to that time easily; it coincides quite neatly with me being the parent of not one but in fact two small children.  The addition of my darling Annie to the family caused a dramatic shift in our family’s ability to arrive anywhere on time.

AND YET. And yet, we have never missed a plane ride.

AND YET. I am almost NEVER late picking up the kids from their schools.

It’s not ME, I keep thinking, but then again, I guess it is. It’s me in the morning.

I’ve never wanted a tattoo, but if I ever WERE to consider getting one, I think I’d like it to say “NOT A MORNING PERSON.”

The real trouble is the suffering. I am ashamed of myself for being late so much. I feel absolutely horrible thinking of C’s friends who routinely expect her to “not be there” for their little morning exercises. The kids in her class each have a job in the morning, and she’s essentially “late for work.” And she’s a “dreamy kid” who “spaces out.” Yes, we are all spacey in this family. What do you expect? Our big brains are working overtime coming up with some kind of creative genius thing and how could we possibly keep track of the location of our shoes and coats and bags also??

But poor little C. Her education is suffering! (and I’m paying HOW MUCH again for that education??)  Her social life is suffering! Her transitions are slow and dreamy!

What a horrible job I am doing, I think to myself! I’m modeling tardiness! I’m failing to teach her to be organized and structured! Because I’m disorganized!

It all comes back to what has got to be my favorite Philip Larkin poem entitled “This be the verse”, which I’ll quote for you now.

They fuck you up, your mom and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults you had.

And add some extra just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

By fools in old-style hats and coats

Who half the time were soppy stern

And half at one another’s throats.

Well it may be a bit cynical — the poem does end with an exhortation to “not have any kids yourself”. OOOPS! Too late for following that advice!

But in a funny way, this poem really calms me down. I am not perfect. I am flawed just like anyone. My only hope is that our creativity, our sense of humor, and our ability to think and express and emote in beautiful ways will more than make up for the fact that we arrive for life about ten minutes later than anyone else.

And my therapist hasn’t even called me back yet. Did I mention the suffering??!

It’s easy to forget that therapy is important, too, if you’re someone taking an effective anti-depressant for your depression.

I just realized that I got out of the habit of seeing my therapist… well, much too long ago… and now I am starting to feel the long term drawbacks of treating the symptoms of depression without also getting therapeutic support.

Taking an anti-depressant is a very helpful thing in my life.  I am honestly much better able to cope with life, be effective, and live happily. But the fact remains that I have a fair amount of emotional issues from Way Back that are still there. These issues, or hangups, or whatever you want to call them do NOT go away just because you blog about them. They don’t go away just because you pop a pill each night.

A word to the wise. If you suffer from depression, don’t stop taking your meds just because you are feeling good, and don’t stop seeing a therapist.  Each of these things would be easy to do, but each is equally a bad mistake.

Ok, speech over. Calling my therapist now and making appointment.

I’ll return now to your regularly scheduled blog-o-rama.  Here’s a picture that brings back great nostalgia for me… Here’s me, nursing my toddler. She’s about 3 years old in this picture. I just came across this photo while I was trying to do some work. I got distracted and thought, hey, I should post this photo on my blog. Stacie would like it.

… if you’re home with a four-year-old who isn’t feeling all that great, and she asks for Snickerdoodles, you just have to make them.

That’s the rule.

EDIT: Reader Lisa asked for enlightenment concerning Snickerdoodles. A wonderful kind of cookie. Below is a recipe for Oatmeal Snickerdoodles, but regular ones without the oats are pretty divine too.  The “all new” Joy of Cooking has a very decent recipe as well. The cookies are buttery and sweet, with a cinnamon sugar coating. They are tender when fresh out of the oven; they are crisp later on, and can be too crisp if you get distracted while they are baking, perhaps playing Scrabulous on Facebook, for example. Ahem.

Oh, you poor deprived person. Here’s the recipe.

It’s weird how sometimes things just seem to line up, sort themselves out.

I was looking for a nanny.

Cammy was looking for a way to do something more with her life. A way to leave where she was living, and come to Philadelphia. (She is my husband’s first cousin, and we’ve been trying to get her to move back to Philadelphia for a while now.)

Hooray. Cammy is coming to our rescue. She’ll be our nanny and stay with us.

Thanks, Cammy!!!!

This morning, I woke up around 9:30 AM.

I had slept all night long.

Nobody had phoned, or cried, or meowed, or done anything to disturb my sleep from when I put my head down in my bed until I voluntarily opened my eyes and looked at the time.

Whooooppppiiiiieee!

Boy, does a night of good sleep do wonders.

Now, if only I could find a babysitter so I can take this job!

THEY OFFERED ME THE JOB!

I am kind of shaky with excitement and uncertainty. While this job represents quite nearly a perfect fit with my interests, values, experience, creativity, and education, there still is one thing holding me back from taking it right off the bat.

That’s right, it’s Annie. My little bundle of wonder, my spitfire, my acrobat, my young one whose life revolves around me dropping her off and picking her up, cuddling, snuggling and watching TV… with me.

The job as offered to me included a very fair compromise concerning my young daughter.  That would be to begin the job without her in tow, so that I might be better able to establish relationships with the kids who come to the program. Then, after about a month, they would be okay with me bringing her with me to the program no more than three days out of the five. Like I said, it’s a fair compromise; and much more than I expected them to agree to off the bat.

If I take the job, I’ll need to have someone else pick her up from pre-school and hang on to her until 6 PM five days per week. This amounts to twelve and half hours less time with her each week for a month. Who will watch her? How will she feel about this? Will she miss me? Will she be cranky? Needy? Want me to sleep in her bed every night? Not want to go to school? Regress?

If you think I’m a worrywart, I guess you are right. I take this mom gig very seriously.  In my heart of hearts, I did not think that I would get offered this job. Sure, I’m perfect for the job. But I’m not the only person in the world who is good with kids… So I interviewed confidently, and felt good about it, thinking I was safe in my world of self-employment during school hours and Motherhood the rest of the time.

The truth is motherhood really is all the time, every day, around the clock and always. It doesn’t stop just because your hands are no longer crusty with play dough and you’re wearing a nice blazer, and the kids are safely elsewhere.

I have been very careful to not think about my kids while they are at their appropriate locations during the school day: hand picked, carefully screened places where I know and trust their caregivers and feel they are being properly nurtured and taught.

I think the reason I am freaking out right now is that I don’t have anywhere suitable for Annie to go, and I don’t know what she’s to do. The job starts in about three weeks (another surprise, I’d thought it would start in March). How am I supposed to come up with a good solution for her happiness and well-being from 3:30PM to 6:00PM from Monday to Friday as soon as that?

Time to talk to the grandparents, and see where that takes me. I can’t give up. There MUST be a way for Miss Cutie Pants to be okay, and have me take the job, too.

The other thing worrying me about taking this job is, did you guess it yet? THE OTHER MISS CUTIE PANTS, my darling seven year old wonder girl. This child isn’t really that keen on having to stay at school til 6 PM every day until the end of the school year, either.

What was I thinking, applying for a job like this, when there’s so much potential for making my children unhappy? Did I really think I could provide them with a fun and educational group experience for twelve and a half extra hours each week, that would replace their prime comfortable sit around at home, eating popcorn, watching TV and playing with their toys time?

Clearly this is something I need to consider.

I wonder if Great Grandma would like to come to my house and hang out with my kids for a few hours each week. I wonder if Grandpa would like to pick up the girls and take them to his house once or twice a week. I wonder if recurring playdates could be had with friends nearby. I wonder, wonder, wonder if I could clone myself and make life that much better for my family.

It feels so unfair that I have to make all these extra arrangments and have all this extra guilt and weight on my shoulders.  Just to get a freaking part time job doing something I’d love.

If I never had kids, I’d never have reached this same point in my life. If I’d never had kids, I wouldn’t understand how important a good after school program really is. If I’d never had kids, I would not be even half as wise as I am now.

If I didn’t have kids, I’d not be nearly as qualified for this job.

If I didn’t have kids, my heart would not feel so sore right now, trying to find a way to make this work.

The fact is that I’m making some compromises here, and no matter how well I handle it, the result is less time with me for my kids. That means that love and nurturing that they receive will have to be supplemented somehow by someone else.

How can I ask them to let me take this job? To give up twelve and a half hours of mom-time? Or, at very least, to share that time with a group of other children?

Today I sat and watched while C and A attended a circus arts class. The teacher’s son is in the class, too. He vied for his mom’s attention throughout the class, by pushing in front of other kids, running around, speaking out loudly at every opportunity, and demanding special treatment and attention. The class was not harmed by this, but I could tell he was getting under her collar.

I don’t think my children would behave that way in the after school program, but I can imagine times when it might get quite trying for me. Annie, especially, gets pretty worn out and sleepy by the end of the day, and likes to veg out watching PBS kids programming.

How can I take this job and still make sure my kids are getting everything that they need?

It is hard to wait for the results of anything important, isn’t it? Elections, primaries, pregnancy tests, adoption referrals, job interviews…. ( my recent visitor from Option Adoption will agree, as will the expectant mom over at The Creamery–  two interesting blogs I’ve just started following.) I don’t even know when the staff will decide on who the next American Idol After School Teacher will be.
So let’s just talk about my recent visit to Manatee Park, shall we?

I was so lucky to have these two to assist me at all times. 

My girls and I saw so many manatees, and so close up. We rented a double kayak, and with Carla in the seat behind me, and Annie sitting in front of me, I paddled us around the Orange River somehow managing to steer the kayak, not capsize, and also take a bunch of pictures.

The red and black mangroves are a fascinating part of the ecosystem. 

Though manatees are very hard to photograph, I managed to capture a few bits and pieces. It was a beautiful experience.

Above: Can you spot the manatee’s nose poking up just to the side of the kayak?

And here’s the tail, just under our kayak. Curious little thing! 

I captured this tail flapping up out of the water using the zoom lens. 

While we were at the park, I was able to sit and listen to a park employee discuss facts about manatees, their habits and their ecosystem.  Manatees, also called sea cows, eat lots of different kinds of underwater grasses.  Like cows on the land, they have a specialized digestive system that is designed to break down the grasses.  Their digestive system works by employing a particular bacteria that can only break down the grasses at 68 degrees farenheit or warmer; if the manatee is in water that is colder than that, it will starve, even if its rumen is full of grass. These creatures have truly specific habitat requirements.

Annie, kickin’ back and enjoying the ride. 

I have been thinking a lot about cows and a farm’s ecosystem, because I’m still working my way through Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. 

There are quite a few words devoted to describing a way of farming that is sometimes known as “grass farming.”  Polyface Farm is described in detail as an example of this.  The grass takes in energy from the sun, and that is what fuels this kind of farm — grass which is then the food for the cows.  Chickens are the cleanup crew for the cows, as they wander the cow patty-studded grass eating up bugs that would otherwise be harmful.  The chickens leave just enough poop on the grasses to help fertilize the grass. The cows, who graze the grass in a careful pattern that does not chew it down so far that the grass dies, actually HELP the grass be healthy rather than harm it.

Photo credit: my very own seven year old. Thanks, C! 

There’s much more to the this farm’s careful use of the land, and there are many more animals that contribute to the farm’s fertility.  What kept coming back to my mind as I considered the graceful sea cows was how the grass farmers are trying to mimic nature and its cycles.  I thought about this as I listened to the naturalist speak of the sea cows and how they have no natural predators, and how man was the their only threat to survival. Nature doesn’t just place an animal into a system without making it pay its way.

Cute little lizards are all over the place in Florida. 

I was certain that the sea cows must be serving some purpose there in the waters.  They are mowing the sea grass, keeping it healthy. But if humans continue to limit their habitat, I imagine that the manatees are in danger of over-grazing the grasses that they need to survive on.  In fact, much of the rivers where the manatee would graze no longer have healthy grasses for the manatee to enjoy, even as watercraft make those waters perilous for these gentle and slow mammals of the sea.

Humans have also messed up farmlands, using energy from fossil fuels to buy fertility and then use it up at a rate much faster than can be replenished.  Even natural grasslands get overgrazed and turned into deadlands.

Who are our natural predators? I think it’s becoming increasingly clear that we share something in common with the manatee: our biggest enemy is mankind, ourselves as we seem to be making our own habitat increasingly unsustainable. This makes me unbelievably sad.