Asher is our resident artist. He spends hours drawing and painting ..... it is really quite remarkable to someone like me who has no interest or ability. After he finishes a drawing, he often photographs it (see image above), because he knows I don't like extra paper around the house.
After a long search, I found these great drawing books by Ed Emberly for him. And I am happy to report I can now draw a killer cat and a cute caterpillar, too!
I asked Asher what I did for work the other day. He answered that I write emails and talk on the phone. Yep, that about covers it.
Me and another associate director launched an after-school program to piggy back our popular summer program. We have created it and promoted it with little interference from the owners. It is like our own little start-up (without the risk, but without the upside as well). We launched robotics and filmmaking classes this fall and winter with plans for more offerings next fall.
Do you remember the TV commercial that was popular during the late 1990's Internet bubble? The setting is an Internet startup and all of the young employees are gathered around, anxiously waiting for their first orders to come in. And then the orders start, and just keep coming. The employees get increasingly wide-eyed and finally someone says, "Now what?"
That has been my life over the last few months. We had a pretty good idea that there was a demand for our programs in the schools. However, we could not have predicted that so many schools would be banging down our door to get these classes.
The learning curve has been so steep, some days I walk into my office and actually see a hill leading to my desk. It is never ending....and along with some success.....I have had more than a few debacles.
These are the lessons I have learned so far......
1. Sometimes problems do go away when you ignore them. (I tended to micromanage the project at first.....but quickly learned it is usually better to let people who are directly dealing with the problem solve it).
2. I can be a pretty big bad ass when I need to be. (My MBA profs often accused me of being too soft. However, the employee that I fired last week might have a different opinion of me. Maybe I am overcompensating....)
3. Starting a small business requires carrying a lot of stuff around in your car. (Asher LOVES when I bring home robots. Luckily nothing in my car or my house has been broken or otherwise damaged).
4. People who don't have a set work schedule tend to work more than those that do. (At least that has been my experience). In the summers, I work a basic 9-5 schedule as a director in the summer program and it is so nice to leave work at work and enjoy my evenings with the kiddos (and Ed, when he is not working). As much as I love this project, it has a schedule of its own....and I find myself working all days and hours to keep pace.
5. Never assume anything, always double-check. (It took a couple of debacles to figure that one out).
There really isn't a job as good as working for yourself. I learned this lesson early in my life as I watched my dad grow his business. And even though I do not own it, I have been given so much autonomy with this start-up that I sometimes have to remind myself that it's not mine in the end. I do see the day I have my own business, but am realistic even to know that it won't happen until the kids are much older.
Playground last week (Asher is sporting whiskers from his National Reading Day, Cat in the Hat costume)
This part of the year is always a little torturous for me, when the weather can't decide what it wants to be. Asher is doing a "weather project" for school, where he has a March calendar and must decide if each day is a "lion day" or a "lamb day." We often spend time debating the merits of each label for any given day.
A couple weeks ago I got my hair cut. I must say, I love my hair stylist and the only reason I pay $60 for a haircut (besides the fact that she does a fantastic job and my hair looks great....at least until I wash it), is that I really enjoy talking to her. Our small talk quickly turns into heart-to-heart discussions. Motherhood, working out, balancing marriage and kids with a career .... these are all things we discuss in length during my therapy session...er...I mean haircut.
In all of our time together, my religious background had never come up....until my last appointment.
The conversation went something close to this:
Hair Therapist: So are you guys going to get away for spring break?
Me: Yes! I'm really excited....we are headed back to Portland for my little sister's wedding.
HT: How fun! Do you like the guy she is marrying?
Me: I think so .... I've actually never met him.
HT: (look of surprise) Oh...so you aren't very close with your sister?
Me: Oh yeah .... I'm close with all of my brothers and sisters.
HT: How many do you have?
Me: Four. Two sisters and two brothers. I'm the oldest.
HT: (even more surprised) Wow. Well....how long have they been together?
Me: A little over two months.
HT: (surprise has turned into eye-popping shock) You mean they've only been engaged for two months and they are getting married in April?
Me: No. They've only been dating for two months. They got engaged last week.
HT: (trying to recover...) Wow. That's really fast. (She mulls this over for a few seconds). How old is your sister, anyways?
Me: She's 25 (I thought by this point she would put it all together and figure out the religious/culture connection. She didn't.)
HT: That's really quick AND young! I hope they at least wait to have kids! (I bite my lip and decide against telling her that this is actually my sister's second marriage and she has an adorable 3 1/2-year old son.)
And that I was also married at 25 and Ed was 23. And at 25, as ridiculous as it sounds, I think many in my congregation and my family had lost hope that I would ever get married.
I know that even in Mormonland, the kids are waiting longer these days to get married, and IMO that isn't necessarily a bad thing. But the disconnect between Mormon culture and the rest of the world can still be pretty startling!
You see, the man in that story was my friend. And for a few years, he was one of my closest friends.
Dan Mooney was far from perfect. And even before he met this tragic demise, he had been battling demons for several years that he never shook off. Occasionally over the last several months, I would catch a glimpse of the old Dan, where he'd be quick with a one-liner or ask how my family was doing.
But I had a sinking feeling that things weren't quite right. I never imagined this would be the end result. Not even close. Of course, as a mutual friend of ours who studied human behavior pointed out, you'd have to be a skilled counselor to identify suicidal tendencies. And none of us were anywhere close to him, literally and emotionally.
We met covering Portland State football games in the fall of 2001, me for The Oregonian, he for the Associated Press. It wasn't a deep friendship then, but we hit it off. I think what first drew me to him as a friend was that he didn't take himself super seriously and was not phony or uptight.
In short, he was human. For better and for worse.
But it was once I started going over to his home that our friendship strengthened and I learned some lessons about what's important in life. I had just gotten married the previous summer, so I had hopes of one day getting to what he seemed to have: a stable home, with a spouse and child, etc. I realize things are never perfect, but it was still a good example for me as a husband and future father.
He never claimed he had all the answers and he wasn't telling me what to do, but one thing he did say stuck with me all these years later. He once told me that at the end of the day, the most important thing in the whole world is family. You might face professional disappointment, friends may come and go, but if you are loyal and loving to your family, that's all you'll ever really need.
It sounds like common sense, but until you go through life and experience its ups and downs, you never really know how true that is. As a transplant living far from our extended family, I always remembered that bit of advice. And yes, I can say my family is very tight-knit because we realize in this far-away place, we pretty much only have each other. It's a quality that's served us well as we've endured Noe's autism.
During one of our last conversations, I mentioned this to Dan, how I always remembered this piece of advice. I made sure to say thank you. And I'm glad I did.
I wish there was a happier ending to the story. He is survived by a son who turns 17 next month. I cannot begin to even fathom the anguish he must be feeling right now, and my thoughts and prayers continue to be with him.
I can almost hear Dan now, busting my chops for ending the post with this clip. He'd say it's too on the nose, since he was Irish and all. But considering my mood, this feels right. In light of this awful news, little else has this week.
It was inevitable. The boys had been sick earlier in the week. I spent a day with stomach pains and a buzzing headache. A stomach bug had crept into our Northern Virginia townhouse and that meant two things: Easy Ed was next and it would be bad.
Sure enough, late late the other night I awoke to the sound of retching vomit. Oh, it is a dreadful noise. When Ed throws up, it sounds like animals are dying.
And Ed vomits a lot.
A couple months back, he informed me that he had gotten sick on the way home from work. Oh no, I replied, Did you throw up in the car?No, he replied. I pulled into an abandoned parking lot and opened the door.
At 2am. In the District of Columbia. Did I mention my husband is Hispanic?
Since then I keep my cell phone by my bed, just in case I have to take a late night call from the county jail after Ed's been booked on suspicion of DUI.
For Ed, the formula is pretty simple:
Weak stomach + Stressful job x Late nights = Prodigious Vomiter
When we were first married, I admit it was a bit disconcerting to have a husband who threw up much more often than I did. Did he have an ulcer? I wondered, Could be possibly be bulimic? (No and definitely no). But soon enough the tables turned and I found myself pregnant and sick. And also very alone and stressed out as I finished up grad school in Portland while Ed chased his dreams in the big city. I couldn't wait to join him in New York. I had this fantasy of Ed lovingly holding back my hair while I threw up, and then cleaning up the mess and bringing me a ginger ale while I rested in bed.
The reality was that I threw up alone when I got to New York as well. The only difference was that now I was in our prewar apartment bathroom with sounds of the city outside the window ..... and, of course, sounds of Ed snoring from the other room.
When I heard Ed sick the other night, I rolled over and stuck an extra pillow over my head to drown out the wailing struggle from the bathroom beyond. I tried to make myself feel guilty for not getting up with him, but I couldn't even manage that much.
Eleven Valentine's Days, ten years of marriage and two children later, I am beginning to understand the multiplying effect of love in a happy and deeply committed relationship. I am also learning that you don't need to share everything with your partner during your years together to experience the intensity of that kind of love.
Asher is our resident artist. He spends hours drawing and painting ..... it is really quite remarkable to someone like me who has no interest or ability. After he finishes a drawing, he often photographs it (see image above), because he knows I don't like extra paper around the house. 
