First Update of the Year
I have some down time at work, so I decided to check in. I think I posted updates 2 or 3 times total last year. I blamed Facebook for a long time, but I haven't really been posting to FB much lately either. Really, it's just habit; I've gotten out of the habit of writing. Although, my reading is back up, a book or two a week on average. I think I was doing well to read a book a month when Olivia was a baby and I was often sleep deprived.
Olivia is three and a half now. Aside from physical traits that make her an obvious descendant of Cheryl and me, she has some characteristics that make us wonder how she could possibly be related to us. For one, she is athletic and coordinated beyond her years. She gets around well on roller skates, can walk with plastic cups attached to handheld ropes on her feet with an impressive stride, and she can toss a frisbee better than I can (no hyperbole). To be sure, I could run fast and climb trees as a young boy with the best of them. On the other hand, I was pretty much hopeless with a glove or a hoop or anything involving a ball. I didn't know C as a child, but she tells me that beyond swimming she generally avoided courts and ball fields. Maybe even more shocking, Olivia, daughter of two parents who love most foods and often have to exercise portion control, is without exception, the pickiest eater I have ever met, and her few food interests change from day to day. Getting her to eat dinner is practically an everyday struggle. We both have known parents that scold and shame their children into eating everything on their plate, and we certainly do not want to be such parents. Nevertheless, she has to eat! The only food items I've known her to consume with any consistency are ice cream and crackers--not necessarily together. I suppose this, in and of itself, is normal, but what kid won't eat tacos or pancakes? She is also going through a pink princess phase. We didn't encourage it, and we're not terribly thrilled about it, but since she's gone through various phases, ranging from pirates to dinosaurs, we're not terribly concerned either. In any case, she is an active, curious kid who we often find singing when no one is looking. She seems to be developing well.
Cheryl is teaching at the country's--and I assume the world's--first charter school in a jail. She has a special education background, which serves her well, as she is working with prisoners between the ages of 18 and 22 who have IEP's (Individual Education Plans). She works in a couple different jails and travels to other sites to work with students who are on probation. Because they are adults, and going to school is optional, the job entails plenty of frustrating no-shows. Not surprisingly, getting some of the students even remotely close to a point of being able to graduate from high school or pass the GED requires enormous teaching feats, since there are some who read at a 2nd or 3rd grade level and cannot do basic math. She has, nonetheless, had some notable success stories, and she is gaining the esteem she deserves for her ability to create curriculum. She can also tell stories about the degree to which she has to leave otherwise innocuous objects in her car that could potentially be used as a weapon. Furthermore, if she were to bring an electronic device into the jail that might be used to order a hit, she would be held highly responsible. In any case, despite the job's frustrations, she prefers it to managing a classroom of children, and the pay and benefits are better. In fact, all of us are covered through her. No complaints about that in the short term, especially since it was much cheaper than coverage of Olivia through my job, but the downside is that it she decides she wants to look for work elsewhere, the decision will be that much harder. Generally speaking, I'm in awe of her ability to do this work. My job, which mostly entails document review and Excel spreadsheets requires no prep-work at home and only occasional stresses, mostly around meeting deadlines, I am humbled by her job, which exposes her to verbally abusive students, contentious co-workers, and many hours of paperwork outside of the workplace. In short, I couldn't do it.
I have been working out in the gym four mornings a week for a few months now. Beyond having always wanted to be reasonably healthy, because there is plenty of diabetes and cancer in my family, I have never been a health and fitness fanatic. I'd had a couple gym memberships in the past and did a poor job of following through. In fact, I pretty much hated the idea of gyms and preferred getting my exercise outdoors. Well, that may still be true in theory, but the reality was aside from biking to work sometimes, I wasn't getting much consistent exercise, and I was often feeling lazy and lethargic, even when eating pretty well, a feeling I could hardly afford to have with a small child. I started with a physical trainer back in November, and this adds another layer of improbability to my now going regularly, because my few meetings with him were grueling in a way I had never before known grueling. However, although I didn't want to pay to continue with a trainer, he did impart enough about what a true workout looks like that I am getting much more out of my visits than I did at previous gyms. Also, because the gym is right on my way to work, it's a lot easier to not talk myself out of going. I have to admit, even though I used to be annoyed to hear others say stuff like this, that sweating for 30-40 minutes in the morning makes me feel more calm and alert and less anxious during the day, and I am sleeping better at night.
Even though the job situation is going pretty well for both of us, and we have a nice house and garden, thanks to subletting from C's mom, we are getting increasingly tired of living in San Francisco. Although the city and the larger area still has its charms, and I can't take for granted how progressive and tolerant this region is by most standards, there are plenty of downsides. For one, both San Francisco and Oakland, but especially SF, are gentrifying at an alarming rate. I think most have now heard about the huge and ubiquitous Google buses taking up space on streets around town. Also, plenty of bars, cafes, etc, that have been thriving here for decades are closing down because they can no longer afford the rent. In their place are going up ticky-tacky condos and thoroughly unaffordable restaurants and cocktail lounges. Moreover, traffic here is simply horrific. Getting from one side of this not very large city to the other is a time-consuming ordeal. Public transit isn't bad but not really sufficient, and parking is an absolute nightmare. This is to say nothing of the absurd cost of living here. We still have no idea where we might eventually end up, and of course nowhere is immune from the "grass is greener" phenomenon. However, any city in which start-up company owners and lawyers consider themselves fortunate to live in studio apartments is clearly not the right place for us.
Well, that's about it. With any luck, I'll be back on here before the end-of-year Christmas music rant.
Olivia is three and a half now. Aside from physical traits that make her an obvious descendant of Cheryl and me, she has some characteristics that make us wonder how she could possibly be related to us. For one, she is athletic and coordinated beyond her years. She gets around well on roller skates, can walk with plastic cups attached to handheld ropes on her feet with an impressive stride, and she can toss a frisbee better than I can (no hyperbole). To be sure, I could run fast and climb trees as a young boy with the best of them. On the other hand, I was pretty much hopeless with a glove or a hoop or anything involving a ball. I didn't know C as a child, but she tells me that beyond swimming she generally avoided courts and ball fields. Maybe even more shocking, Olivia, daughter of two parents who love most foods and often have to exercise portion control, is without exception, the pickiest eater I have ever met, and her few food interests change from day to day. Getting her to eat dinner is practically an everyday struggle. We both have known parents that scold and shame their children into eating everything on their plate, and we certainly do not want to be such parents. Nevertheless, she has to eat! The only food items I've known her to consume with any consistency are ice cream and crackers--not necessarily together. I suppose this, in and of itself, is normal, but what kid won't eat tacos or pancakes? She is also going through a pink princess phase. We didn't encourage it, and we're not terribly thrilled about it, but since she's gone through various phases, ranging from pirates to dinosaurs, we're not terribly concerned either. In any case, she is an active, curious kid who we often find singing when no one is looking. She seems to be developing well.
Cheryl is teaching at the country's--and I assume the world's--first charter school in a jail. She has a special education background, which serves her well, as she is working with prisoners between the ages of 18 and 22 who have IEP's (Individual Education Plans). She works in a couple different jails and travels to other sites to work with students who are on probation. Because they are adults, and going to school is optional, the job entails plenty of frustrating no-shows. Not surprisingly, getting some of the students even remotely close to a point of being able to graduate from high school or pass the GED requires enormous teaching feats, since there are some who read at a 2nd or 3rd grade level and cannot do basic math. She has, nonetheless, had some notable success stories, and she is gaining the esteem she deserves for her ability to create curriculum. She can also tell stories about the degree to which she has to leave otherwise innocuous objects in her car that could potentially be used as a weapon. Furthermore, if she were to bring an electronic device into the jail that might be used to order a hit, she would be held highly responsible. In any case, despite the job's frustrations, she prefers it to managing a classroom of children, and the pay and benefits are better. In fact, all of us are covered through her. No complaints about that in the short term, especially since it was much cheaper than coverage of Olivia through my job, but the downside is that it she decides she wants to look for work elsewhere, the decision will be that much harder. Generally speaking, I'm in awe of her ability to do this work. My job, which mostly entails document review and Excel spreadsheets requires no prep-work at home and only occasional stresses, mostly around meeting deadlines, I am humbled by her job, which exposes her to verbally abusive students, contentious co-workers, and many hours of paperwork outside of the workplace. In short, I couldn't do it.
I have been working out in the gym four mornings a week for a few months now. Beyond having always wanted to be reasonably healthy, because there is plenty of diabetes and cancer in my family, I have never been a health and fitness fanatic. I'd had a couple gym memberships in the past and did a poor job of following through. In fact, I pretty much hated the idea of gyms and preferred getting my exercise outdoors. Well, that may still be true in theory, but the reality was aside from biking to work sometimes, I wasn't getting much consistent exercise, and I was often feeling lazy and lethargic, even when eating pretty well, a feeling I could hardly afford to have with a small child. I started with a physical trainer back in November, and this adds another layer of improbability to my now going regularly, because my few meetings with him were grueling in a way I had never before known grueling. However, although I didn't want to pay to continue with a trainer, he did impart enough about what a true workout looks like that I am getting much more out of my visits than I did at previous gyms. Also, because the gym is right on my way to work, it's a lot easier to not talk myself out of going. I have to admit, even though I used to be annoyed to hear others say stuff like this, that sweating for 30-40 minutes in the morning makes me feel more calm and alert and less anxious during the day, and I am sleeping better at night.
Even though the job situation is going pretty well for both of us, and we have a nice house and garden, thanks to subletting from C's mom, we are getting increasingly tired of living in San Francisco. Although the city and the larger area still has its charms, and I can't take for granted how progressive and tolerant this region is by most standards, there are plenty of downsides. For one, both San Francisco and Oakland, but especially SF, are gentrifying at an alarming rate. I think most have now heard about the huge and ubiquitous Google buses taking up space on streets around town. Also, plenty of bars, cafes, etc, that have been thriving here for decades are closing down because they can no longer afford the rent. In their place are going up ticky-tacky condos and thoroughly unaffordable restaurants and cocktail lounges. Moreover, traffic here is simply horrific. Getting from one side of this not very large city to the other is a time-consuming ordeal. Public transit isn't bad but not really sufficient, and parking is an absolute nightmare. This is to say nothing of the absurd cost of living here. We still have no idea where we might eventually end up, and of course nowhere is immune from the "grass is greener" phenomenon. However, any city in which start-up company owners and lawyers consider themselves fortunate to live in studio apartments is clearly not the right place for us.
Well, that's about it. With any luck, I'll be back on here before the end-of-year Christmas music rant.