The summer is winding down, and that means that it’s time to get back into business. Post Labor Day, there’s always this mental shift towards getting back to work on laying those foundations for your future. Perhaps a new wardrobe for the fresh start of a new academic year? Or a renewed dedication to the career. Whatever it is, it’s no different in my household. 

Abby will be starting Pre-K next fall. I never thought I’d turn into a tiger mom, but with the mounting competition to be the best, I’ve had to break out that ruler and whack some tables. This October, Abby has to register for the tests for the NYC Gifted and Talented program that could afford her the possibility of a spot in either a Citywide G&T program (98th Percentile) or a local program (95th Percentile). All parents think their kids are the bees knees, but that’s no longer enough. Over the past year I’ve probably spent over $500 in educational materials, not including the stuff I’ve inherited from my MIL, who is a retired JHS VP. I’ve also made some stuff on my own. It may seem like a lot, but I drew the line at the $700 study materials package or the $1,500 tutoring sessions. 

Abby is only 3 and a half years old. Getting into the G&T program isn’t just about having the understanding of the course material. It’s a whole lot more when you’re talking about testing a 4 year old. (The age Abby will be when she tests).

Firstly, it’s 40 questions (or 60 if you child is already in Pre-K) to be administered in one hour. This is going to take training her to focus on an activity for one hour. No potty break, snacks, or having a little toy to keep their hands busy with. Total focus, only on answering the questions.

Your little 4 year old will be alone with a total stranger, in a strange place. They’ll go though 10 practice questions, and then the 40 real questions. (50 total!) During the administration of the exam, the tester will read the question only once. After one minute, if there isn’t a response they’ll move onto the next question. So, if your child wasn’t paying attention the first time, or if the question wasn’t clear, there’s no opportunity to seek clarification. And yes, we’re talking about a 4 year old. 

You have to be in the top 2% or 5% to earn yourself a spot in the program. It’s not the top 2/5% of the entire population… you have to get that top score among the testing population. That’s competition among the other tiger moms who have also started preparing their child as soon as they can utter their first word. 

It’s a long road ahead, all about laying the right stepping stones at the right time. It’s not only a preparation process for the children, but one for the parents and all the caretakers and authority figures in your child’s life. You have to work together to encourage the social and concentration skills as well as the hard skills that the test measures. It’s prep time for this family!

I’m working with a life coach. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. The first session was great, the follow up is a bit different. At first I envisioned a life coach as someone who would help me keep on track for the tasks that I assign to myself. I wanted a little more accountability, a little cheer leader, and part therapist. I have a list of things that I want to get accomplished, that usually somehow disappears and is left undone. Sorta like that lone sock that never quite makes it into the hamper- or the wash- or ever back into the drawer. Yes, I think I have issues. I’m getting caught up in laundry metaphors. 

This is not to say that I haven’t done anything. I’m organizing two events solo, working on an event with my partner, picking up the pace work, and sorta packing things up to go back to Miami. But yet I feel the need to do more. Not sure to what end though, since I’m getting a little lost when I’m trying to figure out what exactly “More” means.

Maybe I’m a workaholic? It might not be the goal that’s important, but the constant state of action. Which does explain why sometimes I can end up in rockinghorse syndrome- a lot of energy exerted, and nothing to show for it. I of course know that i need to work smarter, and not just harder. I think I’m going to have to put more strategic thought in my master plan. 

I used to say that it’s important to keep up the activities that make you happy. There are things that you do for yourself that anchor you, that give you the energy to get through the doldrums of life. For me, it was climbing, capoeira, dancing, sailing, swimming and reading. I’d include drinking, but boozing should be a happiness enhancer.  “Never drink to feel better; drink to feel even better.” – it’s always fun to quote Reese Witherspoon. When I was happiest, I was able to find time to do all of that. Letting my brain (and my body) deteriorate while I watch TV- both off my DVR and Hulu was never on that list. I notice that there’s negative relationship between TV and engaging activities and being happy. 

Changes are a-coming, and I’m getting back to the core of who I am before I lose who I am.

Everyone can cry, whine, and bitch about the obstacles in life. That’s just too easy. What separates us all is how we’re able to transcend that experience. How do we handle stressful situations? Sometimes, you are faced with an uncomfortable situation and it’s all about working through it. Be clear, speak deliberately, and just keep in mind that it’s going to be the worst while navigating through the currents.

It’s easy to be swept up and make things worse. When it involves other people, it’s important to be organized and calm. That gives off the confidence that you’ll be able to fix things and move forward. 

I work in boys club, and I like it. If you fuck up, they tell you. You don’t get pats on the back for keeping up the good work, because that’s what you’re paid to do. You get points for falling on the sword, owning it, and licking your wounds and moving on if something went wrong.

People get chewed out where I work, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is not some sort of corporate evangelism… it’s more of a breath of fresh air instead of the office politics and passive aggression that goes on. If you don’t get rewarded here, you know why. And I like that.  We’re not belligerent. It’s not like management goes around causing un-necessary stress in hopes of a productivity transcendence. Managers who create superficial stress and expect people to grow from those environments are just sadistic fuckers. The people I work with tell it like it is. Yes, it stings sometimes, and sometimes I go all girl mode and stagger into the nearest bar to drink my sorrows away. But what comes out of the haze after a fifth of scotch is a resolve from having the opportunity to fix things. That there’s no behavior patter that can’t be unlearned with the right dedication and attention- assuming you knew that it needed fixing to begin with.

If I fuck up, my boss has my back. Not in an, aww, that’s okay, people are human way. It’s more like a message to our bosses saying, we’re responsible, and we’re dedicated to resolving this together. If there’s a sticky situation, it’s enough for him to say to his bosses, “We’ve talked about it and found a resolution.” 

I think it’s because our words mean something here, and it’s a message that carries through our organization. We’re here to do a job, and do it well. We are dedicated to providing the best services with the best people. That only happens when there is a true commitment to identifying problems and fixing them. As an organization, and as professionals- we call out what is wrong and fix it. Our confidence comes through in knowing that if something were wrong, we’d be told… and that we’ve been through the wringer a few times to know that we’re pretty darn solid. 

I’m happy where I work, because I know where I stand. If I’m on a chopping block, I’d be told. If I were on a stunted career track, I’d definitely be told what I needed to do to get into shape. We don’t carry driftwood here… and maybe it’s that Texas swagger.

I have two healthy children that brighten my days. I never once regret them in my life. AC impresses me with her spirit, her intelligence, and her will to be my equal. WC warms my heart with his sweetness, affection, and purity of emotions. I have a loving husband, and a supportive family. Life is good.

I’ve gone through the process of signing up for life insurance, and I’ve been evaluating my life. Every little bit adds up to make a big impact. I’ve spent my 20′s living it up, and I don’t regret it. I’ve been thinking a lot about making sure things are in order. I’ve re-evaluated my goals- financial, career, etc. and am working through a plan for my goals. 

But what about at the end of my days? What would I do if knew I had a terminal illness. What would my thoughts be. Starting at the end, I’m working my way backwards to formulate a plan for my life. Seems morbid, but it’s a way to make sure that I’m not caught off guard. I’d want my life to be documented, so my children would know me. Not just as the mommy… but as a multi-faceted person who has dreams, insecurities, and convictions. I’d want them to know the real me that we may be afraid to show the world. That’s always been one of the motivating factors of having a blog. I would want my children to know who I am at the different stages of my life. And it also helps to be reminded of an earlier, more innocent me. I’d want them to know that I had no reservations about being who I am, but sometimes I wasn’t sure. i’d want my kids to know that I love them with all my heart. That they bring joy to my life in more ways that could be articulated by the written word.

If I were to pass suddenly in the night, I’d want my children to sleep through and be told in the morning. I imagine my spirit entering their dreams to say good bye. If it was during the day, I’d want the adults to internalize and be calm before my kids knew. I’ve always thought it was important to be strong for the people you care about. I’d want them to hold tightly to the moments of happiness while the grieve… so hopefully it will pass quickly. I’d want them to know just because the pain of loss has lost its edge, doesn’t mean that they loved me any less. And that I know, with every bit of my existence, that I was loved by my husband and children.

If I happen to come down with a terminal illness, quality of life is very important to me. I’m a numbers gal, and I don’t want to undergo procedures for a 1 in a 100,000 chance that things will get better. To what end? To extend a few months of my life while i’m hooked up to breathing tubes and zoned out on pain killers? It’s not about giving up- its about understanding how much time you have left and making the most of it. I’d want the time to say everything i wanted to say to all the people who are dear to me- while I was still lucid. I’d want to have an image of a smiling me still fresh in their minds when I passed. I wouldn’t want to be on life support for too long. I’d want to be there for everyone to share themselves with me, but more importantly, I’d want everyone to find their peace and let me go so they can live their lives.

I’d want my husband to remarry a good person. I’d want my children to have a mother figure, and my husband to have a companion in his later years. I want my children to be there for each other, always. At the end, I want everyone else to resume their lives, as soon as they’re ready to.

Letting Go: What should medicine do when it can’t save your life?
Read more http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/08/02/100802fa_fact_gawande#ixzz1Lyt7CSp8

I love wedding favors as much as the next person. I’m touched by the effort the couple spends on picking out the favor they feel symbolizes them. Sometimes favors are whimsical, practical, edible, or charitable. I love them all. They’re fabulous, for the moment. A month, or a year or two later, the favors are sitting in a box collecting dust. Sadly, they have to go. I feel a touch of guilt, but at the end of it all, not really. I’ve been pretty good about favors- as a couple, JC and I only take one, even though we may be entitled to two. 

The opposite are people who take more than they’re allocated. With us forfeiting our second favor, that gives the opportunity for others to pick it up. That’s fine. And I know that there are more people out there who don’t take favors with them at all. And those people contribute to the hoarders. At my wedding, we lost a box of favors- and at the end of the night, we only had 1 wedding favor. We had salt and pepper shakers in different colors, and I was a bit bummed that we didn’t have more. Later, upon visiting relatives, we found a stockpile of our wedding favors. They gave a few back, so we’d have some momentos of our wedding. 

At another, we found a whole conga line of our favors in someone’s cabinet. Very cute! But makes me wonder- after a while, won’t that become clutter? And if you multiply it by the countless weddings that a person goes to, won’t that be a ridiculous pile of chopsticks, notepads, pillows, keychains… etc?

I found a seashell in a drawer today. I have no idea where it came from. Anything I keep has to be worth something to me- and it breaks down to three factors: Sentimental, functional, or edible. No idea where it came from, so it’s not sentimental. It’s a seashell- so real functional value. And unless I come down with pica (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pica_(disorder), there’s no edible value.

What do you do with your favors?

The older you get, the more complicated life gets. You undertake more activities, and you find our more is outside your control. The levels of frustration mount, till you’re on the verge of violently lashing out to release all the disappointment. At some point, you get control of yourself, and keep pushing forward. Throwing adult sized tantrums doesn’t help anything. I got lemons that just squirted me in the eye. Fuck the lemonade, i need the vodka for the lemondrop shots.

I’ve spent the last three or four days toggling between anger and stress. For a long time, I avoided talking to anyone about my emotional state- as I was still trying to determine if it was just hormonal residue of being a woman. Nope- thoughts and emotions still lingering… which means that there’s salt to this. I’ve putted about, and juggled work and family. I do an okay job, but my stress is an indicator that the secret sauce to happiness isn’t quite right. something is off… and real off. I pushed through the greater part of the day in a less than productive manner, as these pesky emotions were still tugging away at me. 

I fought against calling a friend, since just venting to someone isn’t going to change matters. I wasn’t quite in the mood to air my dirty laundry- I guess privacy matters more when you’re older. I went for a walk, watched meaningless TV, ate junkfood, and adopted a new fitness program to elevate my mood. Although, adopt might be too strong of a word- since I haven’t done anything different with my schedule yet. So, day four-ish came the phonecall. I think i got the right person- I got a good plan of action out of the call, which now puts me in a much better mood.

Sometimes you do need a friend to talk to.

We’ve made our first steps to moving into our Miami Beach home. The weather is great, the energy is good. Our apartment is coming together, now that we’ve decided to redo the bathrooms. All in all, things are going well enough. It will take a little bit to settle in. 

A is in good spirits- I think she’s just happy at all the outdoor time she gets. W is just happy to be around family. JC and the kids have gone across the street to the daycare center to enroll A. I’m a bit apprehensive, since they don’t speak English there. It’s only for three total weeks, then we’ll be heading to NY. I’ll be brushing up on my Spanish as well- Bienvenido a Miami!