A slow tempo at work so far this morning. I appreciate that, since I didn't sleep great last night; my body isn't used to the new routine yet, and while I've been unsuccessful at falling asleep earlier, I've been too successful at waking up earlier... as in, "I've slept for a few hours, it must be time to get up now!... at 4:52am... crap..." I'll get back into a good sleep pattern, but it'll take some time, and until that happens, I'm going to feel a bit zombie-ish in the mornings. But it is funny to wake up during a dream about my new job of answering phones and placing orders; I was asking a dream customer if they needed Product A or the subset of Product A when my alarm went off, and I giggled that I've been working on my pronunciation of these products in my sleep.
My brother and his fiance and their 6-month-old Toby are visiting for a few days next week. A 16 hour drive from Indiana with a baby. That's commitment. This will be the first time I get to meet the little chubber, and I am so excited that I actually can't put it into words. He's my youngest nephew, and so far, this brother's only kid, and they've been traveling a bit now that Toby's eating solid foods and working on toofers, meeting family members that don't live nearby... which is all of us, really. The cousins have met, and the pictures were adorable. I'm excited to see how my dogs, particularly my new girl, will like Toby, especially since Alice is only slightly bigger than him!
I knew a long time ago that I would need to experience some extraordinary circumstances for me to have my own kids. I completely adore kids, and have been told by people that I trust that I would be an excellent parent, but have never been in a position as an adult to take care of kids the way I think they deserve. I have either been struggling with income and my career, or depression and health issues, or a total lack of a love life (which, for me, is a non-negotiable piece if I would ever have kids; no fucking way I'm going to be a mom and feel like I can pull it off without the father being a partner in it all-- it's not fair to me, and it's not fair to these hypothetical kids). This makes visiting with my brothers' kids a loaded situation. On one hand, I am excited to be their Crazy Aunt, the aunt that teaches them how to belch loudly and properly when they're old enough, or will take them to funky exhibits at a science museum, or gets them rare copies of their favorite books to celebrate a random Tuesday. Being two times zones away from them and not being able to afford regular visits to them makes a lot of this impossible right now, but that's why I'm working my booty off, to get some financial security so I can make them a bigger part of my life. On the other hand, I occasionally see my brothers' kids as reminders of how disparate my idea of who I want to be for them and who I actually am for them are. I've not had great time being an adult (... understatement), and in so many ways, I still feel like a kid that needs someone else to do the heavy lifting. How am I supposed to be the aunt I want to be if I can't accomplish other things I would consider to be essential to my identity? This line of thinking takes me down the rabbit hole with lead weights strapped to my ankles, and who would want that emotional baggage attached to their niece and nephews?
During my last session with my therapist, I found myself saying how disappointed I am that I need money to be happy. I will admit that money allows for independence and freedom and opportunity, and those are things I am happy to have in my life. I also don't see myself searching for other methods of getting independence and freedom and opportunity outside of money; I'm not that brave, and I'm not that willing to live in a van. But then, talking it out, I realized that I would feel this same disappointment if I was so dependent on something other than money. If I had to rely on friends, for example, to the same degree that I rely on money, and if that reliance impacted every part of my life with the same intensity, then I would be upset that I needed other people to make me happy. So I guess I'm not as materialistic as I thought, a trait that I'm generally disapproving of. Things or people or concepts tied into my basic security are difficult to accept, because for as much as I would love and have worked to be an independent and self-reliant person, and for as much as I value that trait, I know that it's unrealistic to believe I am an island unto myself. I believe strongly in the fact that what makes Life on Earth function is the cooperation between all things, and the awareness and respect of how other people influence your daily life, however remotely or immediately that may be, is crucial. It's a huge part of my philosophical and political makeup. But apparently, that belief applies to every except me. I should be judged separately. And having that in my head, even if its volume is turned waaaaaay down, causes me problems.
Tricky stuff, this whole "being alive" business.
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