In the 10 minutes that I actually have free right now, I'm just posting to tell myself to remember to act like a mature, responsible adult-and not a little school girl or (in the alternative) teenager. There is currently some dirt-kicking amongst various people with whom I share my little corner of the playground, but politics (in the general sense) can be played various ways. I will not throw any tantrums.
I also will do my best to not act like a dork around cute office eye candy. But then again, I'm pretty much a hopeless case anyway on the "acting like a dork" front. Attempts to stop that train became fruitless a long time ago.
To say things are stressful in our house right now is an understatement. Today, not only do my in-laws come into town, but we are bringing home a doberman-beagle mix named Hobie. We are adopting Hobie from the local beagle rescue organization, and I'm looking forward to having a dog in the house. However, we have a ton of shopping to do in the meantime. Regarding the in-laws, I'm going to try and stay positive and be grateful that they are here to help us out, particularly since I need some extra time to get work done these days.
I've been walking around the past couple of days feeling concave. When there is something that resonates in your heart and makes you happy, you become hyperfocused, often to the point of distraction. But then, you know that reality makes things either impossible or not without consequences. That's when your defense mechanisms kick in, and start the process of removing that thing in bits and pieces. For a while, you start to miss that little resonance, and the rest of you dances around it and you feel odd and slightly out of place. Sure, over time you just get used to it, and that little space fills back up again. But before that, you feel like there's this little thing missing, making you feel a little off balance, at least for a little while until your wordl re-corrects itself. I should be used to it by now, but it always gets me, every time.
I've been practicing a certain type of balanced assertiveness lately. I've stopped making apologies for my recommendations-out the window is the whole "sorry I have to do this, but..." business. I provide my advice, and if they don't like it, they can call me and discuss. I'm happy to account for business interests and revise my recommendations accordingly. The part of this in-house gig that takes getting used to is providing legal advice with very little turnaround time. I would love to hit the books and find comfort in case law these days, but that opportunity simply does not happen. In many ways, sometimes I feel like I went in-house too early-the transition from being the "hidden analyst" who performs the intricate machinations of dissecting fact patters to becoming the front-line respondent to client questions definitely takes some getting used to.
I think my son would make a good consultant. Lately he has been "taking meetings" with his four favorite stuffed animals, and "working from his home office," which is a trunk in his room where he has put a couple of post-it notes and files.
Suddenly, I'm jolted wide awake, surrounded by the darkest grey silence with the weight of my comforter on my bare legs to remind me that it's the middle of the night. At first, i hear only the faint hum of the occasional delivery truck on the freeway just a handful of blocks from our house. Then, moments later, there is the plaintive request from just outside my bedroom door as The Governor beckons for assistance with a just-past-midnight trip to the bathroom. I rush to put on a bathrobe, and then greet him with gentle reassurances as I guide him to the toilet.
He is dizzy, coated with the remnants of sleep as I help him with his pajama bottoms and underwear. I stand a few feet away as he expertly aims the steady stream to its destination. Something of an overachiever, His Honor decided immediately after learning to potty train that he favored standing over sitting, making an exception as needed, of course. We conclude our trip with the ritual handwashing, and he stealthily makes his way back to his generous full bed.
The bed creaks as he climbs on, a legacy held together with plastic ties wrapped around bedframe legs that bent during an enthusiastic, in person demonstration of the "Monkeys On the Bed" song. He lies down, and I ask if he would like his music. He nods silently, and I see the faint outline of his cheeks in the darkness, the last vestiges of his baby days countenance still remaining-at least for now. I lie down for a little while while the soft lullaby CD starts to play, its slow timbre ringing a tune that The Governor softly declares "the one I love when I was a baby."
I feel a sad pang in my heart as I realize that I can never fully experience those times any more, at least not with this one. For he is all boy-I see it in his silhouette as he races in front of me, or stands with his weight leaning on one leg. The stance embodies a sureness of gait, as he has fully mastered the art of sharks-and-minnows and duck, duck goose.
As he begins to drift back to sleep, I steal back to my own bed, and Conan utters a brief noise of recognition as I climb back in and sigh, my thoughts lagging, still lingering in the room across the hall, where a boy has fully submerged himself in sleep.
I haven't been taking criticism very well at my job. My current boss does what he can to be constructive and helpful, but I still feel a twinge of embarassment for myself whenever my mistakes are pointed out to me. I don't have the best time swallowing my lumps. I do learn my lessons and listen to the things that people are saying-but it is only after I push my initial feelings of inadequacy out of the way.
After spending almost two years with a boss who watered the initial seeds of inadequacy, it's hard to pull out those overgrown weeds ever since I've switched to a new set of bosses and co-workers who really just want the best for me. It's a little pathetic, but now that a huge project has finished, I can turn my attention to actually feeling competent-for a change.
I'm guilty to the simple sin of doubting my own ability. My recommendations always end in a question mark-"is this okay with you?" I can sense my own reticience when providing advice. I got into this self-demeaning habit when working for Gecko. There was always someone-whether it was actual him or another associate-who questioned my work. Sometimes it was subtle. Sometimes it was outrageous. But always it hammered away at my own feelings of competence.
I think my current boss is trying to help me at least re-establish that competence, at least to our clients. I think he's hoping that the real deal will follow soon. I do too-and I've decided to just start acting like the attorney that M. and others have always told me I was, and stop the bullshit legacy and Gecko, C., and others have left planted in my brain. I led investigations when I was just 2 years out of law school-why shouldn't I leave my feelings of inadequacy behind?
A piece of the puzzle is in place work-wise, which has somewhat eased the frantic pace at which life has moved lately. Things are slower this morning, and so I'm just trying to enjoy the fact that my phones are not ringing every 5 minutes. To be sure, there are unanswered questions about where I will be and what I'll be doing, but for now, I just want to ease up on the reins and enjoy the possibility of leaving the office before 5:30.
The Gov has been so much fun lately. Still badgering us with questions, but now he is singing songs, making jokes, and cuddling. I missed him so much while at work these past couple of days-partially because I was overwhelmed, and thinking about him is so comforting. I still can't get him to do anything beside pretend the beads are race cars when he sits with me during my evening jewelry-making sessions. At least he doesn't try to eat them.
10-day in-law visit in a couple of weeks. I try my best not to think about it, but I get into panic mode whenever I think of my MIL being around for that long of a period of time. I typed out a "this is what you should be doing with my kid during the day" list, but I'm sure she will pay it very little mind. The trick is to give it to my FIL, because he has a very understated way of honoring my wishes. There is also this way that my MIL fills up our house with this "presence" that crowds you out. She's always wanting to be around you, and for someone like me who values her privacy and alone-time, it's very difficult. I do have mild personal space issues, but what introvert doesn't need at least some physical space just to re-adjust? When my MIL comes to visit, my personal space becomes so much smaller-it feels hard to mentally breathe, even in my own house. If I had a treehouse, I would run to it and hide every night. I was a somewhat lonely child, and I just got used to the space. I like it that way--I wish she would just recognize that.
Conan got a raise and is in line for a big promotion. Both of these are well-deserved, and so I'm so happy for him. He was in a great mood last night--when your partner and best friend over the age of 5 is happy, it makes you happy too.