More or less awesome

My husband, nuts as he does drive me, is worthy of note for his many fine characteristics.
He has an enviable talent for concentrated thought. He can strategize several levels ahead of where he is at the moment, holding the outcomes for numerous eventualities in his head at once – a skill learned in true brainiac style: playing chess. He is no lily-livered nerd, though. He is meticulous and capable with tools and materials, engines, motors and machines. He will stand his ground against all comers – and in fact actively pursue an arguement, and win, where right is on the line – especially if he feels the need to protect or defend one of his own.

He is painfully loyal, honest as the day is long and has an ethical streak that causes him no end of grief.

In short, a fine man.

The “but”, you ask? 
Try living with this paragon. He brooks no quarter, demands that if you need something you stand up for it, and believes there is no job worth doing half-assed.   He has problems valuing the experiential, the esthetic or otherwise non-quantitative. 

Above all, he thinks outside the box, demands more of himself than anyone else, and adores his kids. I’m grateful to have him in my life, and can’t imagine a better father for our children.

I just couldn’t let the previous post stand, unremarked. This living with other humans is difficult, but quality always is.

Count to ten… deep breath…

My best friend, who writes Mothermind has listed a delightful mama mantra, that asserts, amongst other things, that

“I love my husband… So try not to kill him. Or divorce him ” .

There’s a statement that bears repeating – a comendable thought, and practice.

But for me, motivation to not irreparably fray the bonds of matrimony lies somewhere closer to:

“Life with him as an EX-husband would be much, much worse than this.”

Not the most romantic phrase, perhaps, but there is none truer.

This isn’t, actually, a complaint.  A mere statement of fact.
And one that keeps me from throwing the towel in, when all else seems hopeless.

Inspiration

The blogosphere has been much on my mind.
On July 23 we went to Blog Out Loud, which was a phenomenal. There was such a wide diversity of voices, all with distinct, valuable things to say. Most inspiring. A part of me was wondering what on earth I have to contribute to the greater discussion, but the readings convinced me: my very individuality is worthy of recording and sharing.

 Also at that evening, I had a wonderful conversation with a blogger who was forced by court order to take her blog down – by the father of her child. We got on great. She proposed a blog title: Blog Like You’ve Never Been Subpoenaed.* That single sentence relieved my other great concern – privacy.

I mean, I know just how easy it would be to identify me, for this to be found, and read, by my bosses, collaborators, neighbours, nurses, postman… Anyone could know much more about me than I knew they knew. Can I live with that and still publish?

Following Blog Out Loud I began to wonder if I could live with the idea that because of the possibility of being known, I wasn’t publishing.

I have long applied the notion that the things you regret most are those that you do not do. The foregone option, the indecision, the road not taken, have all been the most lamented.  

 I don’t want to miss this chance to record my life right now, share it with others, and participate in one of the great evolutions of communication. And besides, I want to have some credibility when I get to BlogHer in NEW YORK CITY. (Less than a year away!)

So I determined I would, in earnest, blog.

May the saints protect me.

 That was more than a month ago. I managed to busy myself with other projects. Writing erotica has its benefits: when you tell people you are writing porn, they never ask to read it. Seriously though, I promised myself I’d get something done at work before I was “allowed” to focus on this project, and I did, so I am.

 Now that I have moment, what was it that I going to say?

My good friend is doing fabulous stuff with Mothermind. Her awesomeness is almost as apparent in her writing as in having the pleasure of knowing her for years. I commend her site to you. Be warned, you may see some stolen themes herein in the near future. I am consistently impressed at her candor and creativity.

* (Copy this at your won peril – I’m not at liberty to identify her, but I bet she’d want author’s credit on this one – or first rights to use it. And clearly, she is now familiar with the legal system.)

Plan A B C D E …. R

Well, Internets, since my last installment, things went somewhere hot in a handbasket, house-plan wise, but after a very long last night, we have a plan again.
We’re moving.
Purchases pending, but it’s looking like there are options.
That probably sounds too optimistic. Coming to grips with the fact that all our original plans are not doable was a bit of a watershed. I’m trying to hold on to the belief  that we should be proud of accomplishing a compromise.
That is not to say there haven’t been a lot of disappointments and angry, hurt feelings along the way.

And not to say that all things are rosey, but maybe,  just maybe, this is a good thing.