Sandra Tayler's Blog, page 51

2014 Event Wish List

Last year in September all I wanted was to be at home with my family. I knew it was the last year with all the kids living at home and I was weary. So since last September and now the only time I went away was for four days of the Writing Excuses retreat. The break from events was good, but now I’m ready to go back out again. I want to see my friends who live far away. So this is my convention wish list for this next year. I’m going to have to pick and choose because child care is a limited resource.

January 17-19 ConFusion in Michigan. I have a lot of friends in Michigan. I really want to go visit them. So I plan to shift all sorts of things to make this happen.

February 13-15 LTUE in Provo, UT. This is local. My attendance is almost guaranteed.

May 25-26 LDS Storymakers. I would love to be involved, but they haven’t yet sent out their speaker invitations, so no idea if I will be yet.

July 3-6 Westercon SLC, Utah. This is local. Howard is one of the guests of honor. We’ll be involved.

July 17-20 NASFIC in Detroit, Michigan. This would be another lovely excuse to visit friends. But of the events on my wishlist, this is the one most likely to be dropped.

August 14-18 WorldCon in London. I would love to go to Europe. I’ve never been. I’d like to be with Howard at a WorldCon again. Childcare is tricky because of the length and distance of the trip. Timing is tricky because the turn around to the start of school is really tight. I’m not sure what is possible.

End of September: The Writing Excuses Retreat. I had to miss half of it this year. I really want to be present next year. It is my first choice of where to spend my childcare resources.

So that’s a lot of events to wish for. I feel a bit greedy. I know I am unlikely to get them all, but there is no harm in seeing the wishes.

I must also remember that my wish to have my family always safe and cared for is far more important.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Howard Won a Hugo

You can see that he was a bit excited by this. I only have bits and pieces of information about the event because it all took place in San Antonio and I was in Utah. I was tracking the progress of the Hugo Award ceremonies via Twitter while I distracted myself from being anxious by doing other things. There was supposed to be a live Ustream of the event, but twitter told me that there were technical difficulties, so I’m glad I didn’t attempt to watch that way. I’d just seen the news that someone other than Schlock Mercenary was picked for the Best Graphic Story category. I was still trying to settle that news in my mind and wondering how Howard was doing when a friend called to let me know that Writing Excuses won. Brandon, Mary, and Howard all got to go onstage. (Dan is in Germany and Jordan in Utah.)

Howard called me later for just a few minutes. He was happy and wanted me to know that he was happy, but couldn’t talk long because he had a job to do. For him the Hugo doesn’t represent a reward for something he completed, it is a responsibility to continue the work that he has only begun. His job for the evening was to carry the Hugo, to talk to people, to give out as much kindness and happiness as words could dispense. I’m pretty sure he stayed out past 3 am doing that.

I spoke with him again today for a little bit longer, but he still has a job to do. Most of the attendees have dispersed, but our booth crew is still there. His time and attention belong to them for this evening, because they are friends and because they took time out of their lives to come and help us. I hope we’ll have time to talk when he gets home, that I’ll get to hear all the stories and happy things that have happened for Howard in the past few days. I was here doing my job, which doesn’t have any particularly fun/exciting stories attached.

I look at that picture up above and I am so very glad. I am so glad that Howard is the good man that he is, that he has such amazing friends who collaborate with him, that his hard work has been recognized, that we get to continue doing all the things we are doing. The Hugo is being shipped to us, I look forward to seeing it in person. Even more, I look forward to picking up Howard from the airport and bringing him home where he can be mine again for a while.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Different Day, Different Thoughts

Yesterday I wasn’t sad to be missing WorldCon. Today I am. Brains are funny that way. It hit me when I was sitting in Sunday School. All summer I sat there with Kiki on one side and Howard on the other. Today they are both off having adventures, doing new things, while I did all the usual things.

But then Kiki called and she succeeded where my Dad has failed for years, she convinced me to put Skype on one of my computers. Totally worth it to see her, and to let her see her siblings and her kitty. So the evening is better than the morning.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

The Things that Keep Me Busy

The past few days have felt tumultuous, but they weren’t. This disparity between external and internal experience of events is not my favorite. It means something in my brain is out of alignment. What I finally saw in the past few days is that this is the result of all my jobs expanding just a little bit, so that it is just barely not possible for me to do them all. Truthfully I haven’t been able to do any of them well in a long time, at least not up to my standards for “doing them well.” I admit those standards are high. I expect a lot of me. I’m far more forgiving with everyone else. But in the past few days it finally clicked that the reason I’m failing at all my things is because there are simply too many things.

“I wish we could hire _______.” Howard has said it more than once after coming home from GenCon where we have an amazing crew. This was the first year where he and I looked at each other and thought maybe we could. Business expansion is scary. I’m going to have to do a bunch of research and crunch some numbers to make sure we do not over extend ourselves. (I’ll add those things to the ever revolving list of too many things to do.) But there was a moment when I pictured handing off some of my jobs and I felt such relief at the thought. I might have time to pull the waist high weeds in the front garden, or to reshelve that pile of books, or to vacuum once in a while. I might be able to think ahead enough to plan meals.

Granted, some of those things will come back when convention season is over. Except I’ve seen the release schedule we’ve got planned for next year. Things are closer together. I’m not sure the old patterns will hold.

It was setting up the point of sale system which tipped me over. It was the critically important thing that I’ve been meaning to do since February. It sat on my task list. I looked at it every day for six months and there was always something else more urgent. At the last minute, in a tearing panic, I pulled it together. Then I had to scramble to fix it because in my panic I’d set it up wrong. Nothing like having my system in Texas while I’m in Utah and relaying critical troubleshooting information via text message to people who have never worked with the system before and neither have I. We’re learning how it works while we use it, and I’ll be writing a post talking about the system we’re using, because it really is a good system and the customer support has been stellar. The way this fell out is a far cry from the careful research and testing I’d planned to do.

In the meantime, Link is learning how to tackle high school level homework and teacher communication. Gleek’s choir class has her singing again and sitting down at the piano to pick out tunes. Patch hops into my car cheerfully after school and chatters to me about his day. Kiki has landed her first paying illustration job (probably, contract pending), has made friends, and discovered that the high quality of her high school art classes have prepared her well for college. In light of these things the weeds and vacuuming are less important. Yet I only see this perspective in glimpses right now. Mostly my eyes are on the task list. So many things to do before Salt Lake City Comic Con next week.

I assembled a hand truck today. It was one of the many things to do for SLCC. I thought I’d ordered a nice mid-sized hand truck that converted to a cart. It is rather bigger and more sturdy than that. Good thing I can store it in the storage units with our inventory. When I was most of the way done, Link said wistfully “next time can I help? I like putting things together. At which I immediately handed over the wrenches, because I didn’t like assembling this thing at all. Fortunately I’ll never have to do it again. I meant to stack all the boxes of things for SLCC, but the assembly took longer than anticipated, so that rolls over onto Monday.

Like last year, I’m not sad to be missing Worldcon. There are people I’d love to see, but the timing is just wrong. I need to be here. However I’m hoping to attend ConFusion in January and if I have to miss that, I will be very sad. It has been a long time since I’ve gone to a convention to be among my writer friends.

And now it is late. I should sleep.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Conventions and Preparations

On the drive to take Howard to the airport I feel relief, not because Howard is leaving, that part isn’t my favorite, but because all the convention preparations are complete. Driving to the airport means that all the things are done, or they are forever not done, either way I don’t have to think about them. Over the next few days I’m in a business pause, the space between convention preparation and convention clean up. I like those pauses. They give me time to catch my breath and reorganize all the pockets of chaos that end up all over our house because I shove things out of the way to get work done.

This morning Howard left for the airport, but this week is not a pause for me. I’ll be spending this week preparing for Salt Lake City Comic Con. The first setup day begins on the day after Howard returns from WorldCon. My job is to be on top of things because Howard needs to crash for two days before he has to be focused for SLCC. I miss my pause.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Calm

After the rapids, the calmness is surprising. It is the same water that was tumultuous only minutes ago, but it spreads out wide and calm, barely a ripple. I liked this Monday morning far better than I liked most of the weekend. I’m still behind on lots of work. Disorganization is evident in corners all over my house. But we are beginning to see how things need to go. I cleaned off my shipping desk, really sorted it instead of shoving things out of the way so I could package quickly. I opened up and completed the post GenCon accounting. I helped Link navigate some communication issues with his teachers and classes, because most of the challenge for him will be figuring out how to track the assignments. I went to the gym. But these are just things I did. More important, things felt possible today, like I was not doomed to fail at everything I tried. I like not feeling doomed.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Musing Upon How I am Doing

“How’s your day going?” The question seems so simple and it ought to merit a simple answer. The same is true of “How are you?” Which calls for a simple “fine” or “awful.” These questions are hard for me because whatever I am in the middle of, I have to pause and figure out which piece of emotion is relevant to my current context and to the person who asked. With friends at church I talk about the start of school and Kiki going to college. Writer friends want to hear about how my writing life is going. Howard wants either a quick business meeting or to make sure that his wife is doing okay. My kids are using the question as a precursor to a request and probably don’t really want an answer at all. Summarizing is difficult, just ask any writer who has had to create a synopsis for a novel. There is so much going on, so much nuance, and somehow all that has to be shed to catch only the core of the story.

Today’s story could be about setting up a Point of Sale system and the consequences of avoidance. It could be about adapting to being a three kid household, but I’m still in process on that one and the thoughts will be more coherent a little further down the road. I could tell about anxiety and the way that it lies, makes me avoid things that are not complicated, and then screams that something is a disaster when it is not. I could tell how I feel both triumphant and strong, but also like a complete failure. I could talk about my to do list or my awareness that the kids got very little attention from me today. So when the guy who brought by Howard’s tuxedo for a fitting asked how my day was going I laughed a little before attempting to answer.

How am I doing? I really don’t know. Kiki went to college and I miss her. Sometimes I miss her in the way that most people think of missing another person in that I think about her or something I’d like to say to her or a hug I’d like to give her. That sort of missing is experienced as a sadness, but it is only periodic and fairly comprehensible. Harder to quantify is the part of my brain that tells me I haven’t seen her for awhile and I should go upstairs to check to see if she’s where I expect and that she is okay. It is this ingrained mommy radar which constantly tracks my children at a subliminal level. When they were little it paid attention to noises and silences to prevent damage and danger. When they were little I immediately checked when they fell off the radar. Now I argue, they’re fine. Of course they’re fine. I need to not hover. I need to give them space. Yet there are times where I have to see that they are okay or I get anxious. That part of my brain is really struggling with being told we can’t really check on Kiki anymore. Texts and tweets help, but I know how easy it is to put on a brave face for two sentences of text. Is she okay, really? I can’t tell and that has been ratcheting up the ambient anxiety. This will pass. I’m sure it will, because I learned not to be anxious when they went to friends’ houses solo and when she started driving off in my car. So anxiety and missing Kiki are wafting through my head and combining in not so fun ways. But I don’t feel like a piece of my heart is walking around outside me. That feeling came and went on the first night. It may visit again, but thank heaven I don’t have to live with that constantly.

I had a moment of raw grief on the night I came home after leaving Kiki at college. It hit the way grief does when I was doing something unrelated, scooping food for the cat. I was struck with the fact that I would never again be in charge of all four of my kids. It is possible that Kiki will come home to live at some point in the future, but she will be an adult come to stay not a child in my house. That part is done. For two minutes sadness rolled over me because that part was really good the last few years. Once the first pressing weight abated, I realized that the balancing joy is contained in the exact same fact. I will never again be responsible for four children. The weight of that responsibility is forever lighter. Kiki’s life is her own, I don’t have to carry it anymore. There are other joys which lay beyond this transition. I’m seeing the beginning of them already. Kiki, Howard, and I are beginning to develop our methods for keeping in touch. The kids at home are going to shift patterns. We’ve barely started, we’re only on the third full day here.

When Howard goes to conventions there is a portion of me that goes into a holding pattern. I continue doing the necessary tasks and getting things done, but somehow I’m far more likely to engage in time killing activities. I’m passing the time until he comes back. I can feel that same waiting tendency wanting to kick in now, waiting for Kiki to come home. I think it is a function of the mommy radar, that I can tell it don’t worry about this one until…fill in the blank. I wonder how long it will be before that goes away. I suspect a couple of weeks.

And sometimes everything is just fine. No anxiety, no grief, no feeling of waiting, just me and my day. Tomorrow is church. I’m going to be asked the how are you question a lot, because my friends there know that Kiki left and that we have big conventions. They want to check on me and know if I’m okay in much the same way that my mommy radar wants me to check on Kiki. Because if I’m not okay, they want to be ready to help. My life is full of people who would be happy to help and make things easier. I just first have to figure out what help I might need, which means I have to figure out how I am doing. All of which is why if the “how are you doing” question were part of setting up Facebook, I would check the box next to “It’s complicated.”

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Settling In and Defining the Shape of What is Next

It is amazing how quickly things begin to feel normal.Yesterday was our third day of school schedule and our first full day with Kiki at college. Mostly it felt normal. Okay, I was very tired because I had an anxiety attack at 11:30 pm the night before. I was also paying extra attention to both Link and our cat since they appeared to be the most unsettled by Kiki’s absence. But I just followed my list of things and by bedtime I was having a pretty good feel for how things are currently going.

Howard: on track to have his work lined up the way he needs so that he can disengage the work brain and switch over to convention brain.

Kiki: Had a long-ish text conversation with her yesterday morning. She was a bit lonely and at loose ends. Things got better for her later in the day when there were scheduled events and she met a potential new friend. She is still very much in transition and I’m remaining ready to help and support through the start of classes next week, because we don’t know yet how it is all going to settle out.

Link: Is going to have a rough start. He misses Kiki. High school is big, different, loud, and chaotic. The homework load is heavier than he is used to and the teachers expect more. I’m going to have to hover and be pretty hands-on for the first while. This was about how Kiki reacted to high school, but I didn’t see it until she was completely overwhelmed. I’m hoping to do better for Link. We’re meeting with a couple of teachers today. The good news is that once Link knows what to expect and what is expected of him, he is the kind of person who just settles in and does the work.

Gleek: Thinks junior high is the best thing ever. She has locker decoration plans, book reading plans, and has begun singing snatches of choir songs at home. If we’re going to have stress and trouble, it isn’t likely to set in for another month or two. It’ll be triggered either by homework or by social things.

Patch: Also has settled in well. He’s at the same school and doing work that he watched Gleek do two years ago. The one bane of his existence is the teacher’s insistence on cursive writing. It is going to be another month or two before stress starts to show for him too. He seems to have the roughest times in January/February, so I’ll keep an extra eye out for him there.

Me: Still scrambling to make sure all the pre-convention tasks are complete. They mostly are. I’ve also been quite busy doing all of the assessing listed above. I did not volunteer for a singly thing at any of the schools. Maybe I’ll be able to later when things have actually settled instead of just begun to settle. I also didn’t buy the big bag of tulip bulbs that tempted me at Sam’s club because I’m not certain when I’ll find gardening time. I spent one day weeding about a month ago and haven’t had time since.

All in all, I think it is going to be the end of September before we really find our stride for this school year.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Dealing with the Grief of a Family Member Gone to College

I was more prepared to drive away and leave Kiki at college than I expected. My brain just pulled out the coping skills that I have used each time I leave my kids for a convention. I focused on the road, the drivers, and road trip math. (How many miles to home? How many hours to home? How many minutes to home? Repeat.) If my brain wandered toward thoughts which would lead to tears, I redirected it, because I had a job to do and that was to get home safely. I focused on doing that job.

Others were less prepared with a suite of coping strategies. I arrived home to discover that Link’s world was upside down. Everything he did in our house turned his thoughts back toward his grief that Kiki is gone away. He couldn’t picture anything ever being happy again. Howard and I sat with him and began the process of teaching him some strategies for handling grief. The first strategy is to know that grief is messy and takes it’s own time. We let Link know that it is okay to feel whatever he feels for however long he feels it. We listened to him as he tried to talk about what it was that he was feeling. Then when Link said that he wished he had a new game, one that wouldn’t always remind him of Kiki, because games are how he gets his mind off of things, Howard volunteered to take Link to the store. We can’t buy grief out of existence, but distraction and trying to continue on is part of dealing with grief. So we’ll aid this particular distraction which will help Link for a few days when the sadness is fresh. After awhile we’ll start to have a new normal and the sadness will be in pockets instead of pervasive. As we hit the pockets we will acknowledge them, feel them, and keep going.

According to online posts, Kiki is feeling some loneliness this evening. This is not surprising. We are all off balance this evening, not even sure what comes next for our family patterns. In the morning we’ll get up and there will be things to do, tasks to complete. Following those lists will help us put aside the uncertainty and just task our way to a new normal.

It helps me that I got to go help Kiki set up her room. She could have done it herself, she’s fully capable. I could have dumped her with her stuff on the curb and she would have been fine, but we both wanted me in the room. I helped her sort, turn chaos into a space that will house her next adventures. I have a place to picture her. I made sure to take pictures both of the space and of Kiki in it, because when the other kids miss her, I can show them the pictures and they can see she is well. Link saw the pictures today. He was still sad afterward, but the memory of those pictures will help to attenuate the sadness over time.

It has not really hit Gleek or Patch yet. It will. Because feeling sad you’re going to miss someone does not prevent actually missing them. We move onward because the only way to find new peace and happiness is to keep going.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

The Night Before Kiki Leaves for College

I sat in the front room and surveyed the suitcase and boxes that will be loaded into my car tomorrow morning. Howard made a joke about “Good thing she’s packing light.” Except I think she is really. I don’t know the last time when all of my belongings would fit into the back of a van. Also I remember the pile of boxes that we moved from Howard’s final bachelor room into our first shared apartment. It was larger than Kiki’s pile. He had lots of music gear and far more books. Kiki will accumulate things at college, but what she’s got now is good.

The girl’s room is rearranged, ready for Gleek to spread her belongings out across most of it. Some corners will be reserved for Kiki, but there is no sense in leaving shelves empty when they could be used. Gleek is beginning to see the possibilities of the new space. Already I’ve had sadness from Patch because Gleek’s room is cooler than his now.

I’m really going to do this. Tomorrow I’m going to load my oldest child in the car, drive her hours away, and then come back without her.

There is a game kids sometimes play where one hook her fingers together and pulls as hard as she can for a minute or two. The reason for the effort is that when the fingers are straightened they seem to creak and be difficult to move. I think this final letting go is going to be like that. I’ve held on for so long, kept her safe, taught her things, I’m not sure if I remember how to open up and let her fly.

She’s ready, except where she’s not ready, but she is as ready as she can be right now. Part of my mind races with a million warnings: always lock your doors, keep track of your expenses, don’t walk alone at night, remember to write down the homework assignments…and dozens of others. Yet the thoughts attenuate and fade before I speak them. There is nothing in those thoughts that I haven’t said before. Repetition will gain nothing, it is just my anxiety echoing in my head. At this point what matters is Kiki taking the reins over her life, not me being reassured that I got a good grade at parenting.

I did make sure to tell her that over the next months she will change and grow. New life possibilities will open, and I wanted her to know that she doesn’t need to be afraid of disappointing us if she veers from her current chosen path toward being a freelance artist. She must follow her own inspiration and direction, if she does that, then she’ll find a good place for her.

This time tomorrow we’ll have hugged goodbye, I’ll be on my drive home, and she’ll probably already have texted me with a question. It is good to remember that keeping in touch is far easier than it was when I was her age.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.