Don't Talk to Me

Answer: Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Blogging, IMing, Texting.
Question: Social media and technology which have replaced face-to-face human contact.

We’ve all heard it at least a dozen times: the current use of social media and technology is rapidly degrading our ability to have face-to-face human interactions. It’s true that I can complete a huge range of daily activities without actually talking to anyone. I can bank online or at the ATM. I can shop for almost anything I need, including food, online and have it delivered to my door. I can go through an entire workday using email and IM exclusively. I communicate with my friends and family via Facebook or text. In fact, there are some friends who I haven’t actually spoken with in months, but I know that their son didn’t sleep through the night last night and they were finally able to conquer the butt and gut class at the gym two weeks ago. Even with my husband a lot of our ‘talking’ is done with email and text. I get my fitness instruction from the TV and my mommy support from online forums. It is possible to have a very active and fulfilling day without ever opening my mouth (hold your comments to this statement ... they aren't wanted here).

Along with this increase in social media too, it is said, has come a decrease in the quality of conversation and the written word. Again, I concede. I may know that my friend made it through her butt and gut class, but I certainly didn’t hear all the dirty details which make true story telling an American pastime. The woman grunting behind her so loudly that the Williams sisters would be embarrassed; the truck sized ass of the girl in front whose shorts kept going someplace unmentionable (did she seriously think that was appropriate or unnoticed?); the thin, blond, buoyant, ever so enthusiastic teacher whom we would all like to do mean things to for no other reason than because we cannot be her (which is completely acceptable). And when it comes to spelling and grammar - watch out. Anything that shortens a word makes texting easier so proper sentences have been replaced with things like ‘rotflmao’ and ‘wat d u wana do 2nite.’ And bless your heart if you think that the correct use of punctuation and capitalization have any importance at all in modern life. Because, you’re wrong. And even when the communication is detailed and doesn’t make my 5th grade English teacher gag, there is something lost in the delivery. Sarcasm, frustration, confusion, reservation, excitement – these things cannot be conveyed the same way in print as they can in person. You can CAPITALIZE EVERY LETTER IN A SENTENCE and still not get across the same effect as running up a screaming in someone’s face (this may, actually, be a good thing for some). You can add a … but it doesn’t create the same dramatic pause is if you were to pause before the punch line.

Yes, all the new advances in technology have done a number on the quality of human interactions we have here in this great country. And personally, I LOVE it. I know. I am not supposed to say that; I am supposed to mourn the loss of intimacy, structure and quality. Maybe every once in a while I do. But not often. I like not having to talk to the checkout lady at the grocery store. I don’t want to make small talk with the bank teller. I don’t always have the time for the formalities of a phone conversation … I mean, when was the last time your entire phone call with your BFF consisted of:

“See you at 5”

No, usually it goes something like:

“Hello?”
“Hey, just wanted to let you know I will be at your place by 5”
“Ok, great then I will see you when you get here.”
“Cool. Oh, did everything go ‘ok’ today?”
“Oh yea, everything is good. We will talk more tonight.”
“Yep, sure thing. See you then!”

That was more painful, admit it. No, I like being able to live a life which I delude myself into thinking is rich in friendship and connections without actually having to get dressed or leave my sofa. I like being able to catch up with all my friends at 3 am when Isla won’t sleep. And when I am in a nasty mood, it’s really best that people talk to me with a technology buffer in place. Let’s face it – it’s much easier to backspace away a rude comment before sending than it is to take it back once it’s been said.

Yes, as far as I am concerned the less human contact I have to have the better. Because, what that means is that when I do choose to have contact with another person it truly will be quality time. I will want to be there, they will want to be there and I will really pay attention because I know the value of that time. So, if you want to talk to me feel free to find me on FB, shoot me a text or comment on this page. But if you want to call me be prepared to wait … free quality time for me these days comes little and far between. And if I call you or set-up a get together know that you have made into onto a very short list indeed.

She Rides Again

Ever since I got the 'ok' from the doctor to ride again I have been trying to figure out how to get back in the saddle. This winter has been rough on the horse community. I mean, yes horses can swim; but it's not really what most of us intend to do with them. Each day I go out to the barn and look at the mud puddle which used to be our paddock and think, "they say it'll be dry next week so I can wait." Well, dry never came and I became more and more anxious. So I did what any red-blooded horsewoman would do: called around every barn within a 20 mile radius which seemed halfway decent until I found one that would give me a lesson with one day's notice.

I ran home and grabbed my hat and chaps (after dusting them off a little) and jumped into the car. Off I go! It's incredibly silly how exciting this was turning out to be. I have, in fact, spent an enormous amount of my life in a saddle, why would this be so exciting? Maybe because it's been so long. Maybe because I'd be getting to ride a different horse. Maybe because I have been riding on my own for so long I was just happy to be going someplace where there was guaranteed to be at least one other person there. Whatever the reason I was beyond myself (thus the text messages to every horse person I knew to share the good news ... because they care). I was nearly at the barn before it hit me that I haven't ridden in two years and the chance of either 1) falling off or 2) making a complete fool of myself were very real possibilities. As a child I was fearless but in the last 5 years or so the realities of adulthood have sunk in and there has been a new sense of trepidation. Horses are, if you didn't know already, 1000 pound plus animals who cannot tell us what they are thinking or what they are about to do ... and really, they probably won't tell us even if they could. I mean, these are animals who run like their lives will end immanently unless they retreat from that insanely dangerous leaf which is six inches away from the place it was five minutes ago. Creepy! Critical thinking is not high on the list of equine capabilities.

Regardless of the possible bodily harm concerns, I have arrived! I grab my things and go in. I had forgotten how much I love the smell of a barn on a cool afternoon. We have horses at home, of course, but there is something about a big barn. The combination of soft, dry hay, sweet feed, worn leather and warm horse breath that is magic. I am shown around the barn by a girl who I can only assume is half my age and who seems to think I have never ridden in a lesson program before. (yes, I know what grooming tools are and how to use them) I meet my noble steed, a very cute chestnut Quarter Horse named Xander. He's got a very kind eye and we agree over a good grooming that he is not going to kill me or make any of my fears a reality. As I lead him out the the ring I feel a sense of calm that I haven't felt in a very long time ... ah, happiness.

The ride was very uneventful. Mostly walking and talking about past experience and future goals. I would have preferred to have gotten more active riding time in, but was just excited that it all came back so easily. Heels down, seat light, hands even and forward, head up. As I sat in the saddle for that first time, I worried I might be awkward. But it's just like riding a bike. The instructor complemented me on my leg position and said I was obviously an accomplished rider based on my form after being so very out of practice (thank you, thank you ... please hold while I pat myself on the back). We cool out and I dismount ... ARG, hitting the ground hard on a cold day still sends needle like pains into the feet. Forgot about that. Dammit. Next time I will be more careful.

Xander and I finish untacking and getting everything back in its place and I say goodbye. I get in the car and can't imagine many nicer ways to spend an afternoon. I think about the time at the barn the rest of the evening. I wish I could have stayed longer. Its odd to be at a barn without people I know or a horse of my own. The time seems more fleeting, more borrowed. My new goal is to get the truck and trailer ready so I can take Haande out. I can only hope that results is as pleasant an afternoon ... if I can just manage to strike the same deal with him as I did with my little borrowed Quarter Horse! No mater what lies ahead in my equine journey, I am excited to get there. It's been too long ...

A Buyer's Market Threatens Our Happy Home

It was bound to happen. I knew it would. Justin feared it would. And finally it did. What, you may ask? The house got just finished enough and just comfortable enough. That's what happened. That alone might have been fine if I hadn't had some spare time to surf the web ... and that's when it really happened. "Nice home for sale on 10 acres. Move in ready, price reduced, bring your horses!" Yep. That's what happened, but now what do we do about it? I can't take it back and pretend I didn't read the ad, get the MLS info and go visit it twice. All in two days. Now the over thinking begins.

You might say, "but didn't you JUST move into your house?" And if you said that you wouldn't be alone, that's what everyone has said so far. The answer is complicated. We didn't JUST move in. Its been 2 1/2 years. We also knew this wouldn't be our final home. It was never enough land to stay forever. And this house was built without the expectation of kids or horses as residents, and now we have two of each. The rationalization I use in my head for this move is that no matter how much money we dump into this house we'll never be able to make the land any larger and even with a father as an architect its gonna be tough to get this house any bigger than 2200 sqft.

What complicated matters more is that this 'new' house isn't perfect. Granted, the location is fabulous and it has established pastures. Super barn, dog runs, nice deck, full brick sided with a 3 car garage, private road; all at 40k below tax assessment. Nice. But if you look closer at the house things start to unravel a bit. There is no cross fencing or arena, and to say that the interior is dated would be a grave disservice to other houses which have been called dated. This beast wasn't even nice when it was new. Think - fake marbling everywhere, shiny gold everything, pale pink wood, all white walls, pale blue carpet (with pee stains) , lots of cheap stained glass, fowl decorating the light fixtures ... getting the picture? Its like Golden Girls meets bad 1980's RV.

To move into a fixer upper in our current condition would be hard, there is already no time in the day. And if we found the time, could we afford it anyway? This home would be double the mortgage which means little left for improvements. And supposing the money works out, can I really leave our house? This is the land I grew up on and we have family within walking distance. We picked every item in this house, my father did the floor plan and we saw it built from the ground up by one of our closest friends. And maybe the best of all, it doesn't make us victims of Americanism.

What do I mean by Americanism? Short answer: living on credit in order to buy things that are bigger, newer, faster, shinier and fancier than are really needed. Our current home is nice, I think. We like it here. And it modest. We can afford to go out when we want, shop when we want or make updates and improvements if we see fit. It's as maintenance free as a home can be expected to be and truth be told we do all manage to fit just fine.

Oh, the decisions. It's hard to tell how this one will shake out. No matter what happens I will have regrets. No matter what happens I will have a nice home. So the question remains: will the current buyer's market threaten to end the nearly three year run we've had in this happy home?

... and because I have been told I don't say it enough and probably don't put it in my blog - I love my husband. He's great.

.

Lessons

Random lessons from a random (and tired) mind:

• It would take a person great thought and many words in order to convey the same message that a horse does when he whinnies at the sight of you
• Two very small cats on padded carpeting make more sounds than a herd of elephants if they are playing outside your door in the middle of the night
• You will never feel as tired as you do when you think the baby has finally gone to sleep so you have laid down only to find out she was merely taking a breather
• Whippets can easily reach a piece of toast on a 4 foot tall counter pushed to the very back but are unable to remove the ball that they desperately want from under a chair 2 feet off the ground
• Babies weight one pound more for every minute you have to carry them to prevent them from screaming
• Cats always know when you are eating or don't feel well ... if they didn't, they'd never be able to use the bathroom
• The volume of material that comes out of an animal is always more than the volume that goes in
• Little feels better than a child being so happy to see you that they run to give you a hug; little feels worse than the same child crying and shrugging away from you when you are happy to see them
• Whippets run way faster than I throw or kick. This is infuriating.
• Toddlers are 1/3 our size but have 3x our power
• If someone else is weighing you, you will always weigh more than you do at home alone
• Watching crime shows on TV long enough will eventually lead to laying in bed thinking about all the different ways in which people could get in during the night
• One pot meals create twice as many prep dishes as normal meals
• The best way to find a child or animals littered viscous fluids is to walk around the house without shoes
• Sitting up reading (or writing) random crap like this on the Internet is a complete waste of time ... but we all do it anyway

When Enough is Too Much

Everyone said when I became a mom I was never going to be able to imagine life without my kids. They were right and wrong all at the same time. True enough, I can't imagine not having my two little angels. I never thought that I could love anyone so much before Nash was born. Then when I was pregnant with Isla I never thought I'd be able to love her as much as I loved him. Both times I was wrong. Being a mom is learning to love. That being said ... I certainly CAN remember life before them. I remember nights with friends, riding, movies, gym time, weekend walks, relaxation, spontaneity, sleeping in, sleeping at all for that matter. I remember youth and the feeling that the whole world was out there to conquer. I remember all of it. That being said, I will give up anything I have to for my children without even batting an eye.

But how to you define "have to"?

So far I haven't really given up that much. I still have my horses, in fact they are now at home which is a a big step closer to my equestrian goals. I still go to the gym with friends after work. I am still trying to run (with surprisingly little success considering the effort). I try and cook from scratch when the mood strikes. I go and see movies in the theater when its something I just can't resist. I go out to dinner, sometimes even with friends.

So why am I complaining?

Well, I haven't given up that much in quantity (except for sleep ... notice that wasn't in the proceeding paragraph) but I have given up a tremendous amount in quality. My horses lead a somewhat pitiful life lacking in nearly all human contact. Healthy, yes. Fulfilled, probably not. My dogs are terrors, mostly due to lack of attention. My increasing bulk says all that's needed to be said about the gym. I don't read as much as I like (i.e. ever). I have to go see those movies I mentioned during the work day ... shhhh, don't tell. I duck out early from work as much as possible just so that I can get the basic groceries to feed Nash and Isla. Eating out happens but it's hurried and not really worth it in the end. And household responsibilities? Let's just say the most dedicated bachelor has nothing on the 'cleanliness' of my floors and bathrooms, which once I felt were a source of pride. No, alas, I have discovered that everyone else was right and I cannot be a super mom.

Who really suffers?

Everyone! My children don't get my undivided attention for the short time a day I see them, they share it with animal care and running. My husband (my wonderful, terrific, amazing husband) ends up watching the kids when I am doing these things that I don't feel I have to give up. He also ends up at the bottom of the list when it comes to time and attention. My family does not see the kids or us because there just isn't time in the day. The animals, who didn't choose to be mine, have suddenly been so rudely demoted from #2 to #whenever I can. And ironically enough ... ME! Yes, I admit it. Trying to do it all isn't working. Maintaining enough of my life before the kids to make me feel independent is tying me down like a ship to the shore. Enough ... well, its just too much.

So? Now what?

Being the only child that I am (you others out there will feel me on this) I still think if I just do it better, faster, or more efficiently I will be able to do it all. Eventually. I am just not ready to give any of it up. I don't have to. So, as I sit here blogging after a full day of barn chores, house chores, circuit training, child feeding, meal making, planning for a new arena for riding and the minimal personal hygiene I still manage to accomplish every day I wonder ... when exactly will enough be just too much?

Hello World:
So this is it - my first attempt at blogging. First let me address the fact that I am not assuming anyone would actually be interested in reading about me, my life or anything of the sort. No, this can be chalked up to 1) a curiosity about the idea of blogging in general and 2) a sort of diary for the new technology age. So, for what its worth - here's what's going on in my life of twos ...


So why is it a life of twos? Well, somehow we have managed to build a life of twos in our house. Two parents, two kids, two horses, two dogs, two cats. With the exception of the cats we've even managed to keep it one boy one girl. Weird, but weird is actually normal in this house (consider that my philosophical comment of the day, not very inspired, I admit).

Where To Start:

Isla Rose continues to prove the difference between girls and boys. She has discovered her hands: "look at those! Oh My Gosh, they move. Look! Look! They are moving!! Oh Dear Goodness I think I make them move!!!! How amazing is this!" She has discovered the art of conversation: I make a sound then mommy makes a sound. MOMMY - make a sound now!! She is working on sleep: you mean 3 am is not the time to coo and kick and play? Ok then.

Nash is determined to break the Guinness record for timeouts for a 19 month old. It has come as a shock to him but the phone, blackberry and remote control are NOT hammers. Equally as shocking was the fact that parents, cats, dogs and windows are NOT nails. Go figure. Sleep has also become elusive. While my darling little angel used to sleep from 7-7, going to bed screaming, waking up screaming in the night and starting the day at 6 screaming are all becoming the norm rather than the exception. This should be considered the start of real toddler hood ... yes?


The Nitty Gritty:
Yesterday Nash's daycare was closed (no freaking clue why - I didn't realize that daycare took off for state holidays) and it was a trial of errors. The morning started off well other than the usual tantrum that ensues after Nash gets out of bed and until he gets breakfast. After all this time you would think the child would realize that screaming through diaper change, putting clothes on and getting to living room does NOT, in fact, make things happen any faster. Anyway, the morning was filled with the normal activities which include but are not limited to: throwing things over the baby gate and making mommy get them, chasing the animals while screaming loudly, asking for any and all parental technology, fall down tantrum when parental technology is not provided, plugging and unplugging things from electrical outlets as fast as possible before mommy can scoop up and put into timeout and the old standby of clearing all items off the coffee table as violently as possible. Late morning included loading up the Suburban for the dump and a trip to the park. Whoever decided that rural America didn't need trash pick-up should try loading an SUV with a bunch of trash and recycling with a 19 month old. Please raise my taxes and provide me with waste management. I also would like to petition the Hanover dump on Rt 1 to empty their recycle buns more often. While trying to forcefully shove my mixed paper into the bin I ended up with someone else's discarded shredder contents on my head ... shudder. The park was fairly uneventful. I do continue to be surprised by the fact that trash and puddles are so much more interesting than an entire playground full of slides, swings and platforms ... but I guess it takes a 19 month old to get a 19 month old. Came home from the park to a dog room full of blood ... can't find anything wrong with the dogs. No dead animal in sight. Both cats seem to be ok. What the heck?!?! Realize there is nothing I can do about it and go to find Nash ... oh, he's drinking out of an old Diet Coke can I left in the driveway a few days ago. GREAT. No mother of the year award here. A good lunch and very short nap later we spent the rest of the afternoon coming in and out of timeouts and fall-on-the-floor-kicking tantrums. I can say without hesitation at this time that I have no desire to stay at home with my children. Day care is a Godsend.


After that day I didn't manage to go for my daily run. I guess I can forgive myself just this once. I find training for the Monument Ave 10k without really planning to run in it allows for a little more wiggle room. Topped of the day off by getting on the Insultatron 2000 (otherwise know as the Wii Fit) and saw good weight loss ... thank goodness for small miracles. Hopefully this week I will be able to continue to torture my legs and lungs by trying to run from nothing in particular.


All in all a pretty typical day in the life of ...