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Archive for May, 2009

In The Light

I can’t help but wake up this morning with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Over the past month the following have occurred:

• The semester was finished out with all “A”s - even math!
• The keys to the apartment were turned in.
• A promotion was received at work.
• I went round’n’round at the Heartland Park Topeka during a track day and made improvements on my abilities.

For the sake of keeping my brags to myself, lets just say that school ended on a really high note. At this point, I have tentatively swapped my major over to Public Administration and need to sit down with an adviser at Washburn. I’m penciled in for my Fall classes, but I want to double and triple check with Washburn to make sure that I’m not going to be taking anything I don’t absolutely need. Once that’s done, I can just write them a check and be secure in my Fall schedule, which will be very similar to the one I just completed.

Last Tuesday I went into the apartment after work with a vacuum, some cleaner, and a roll of paper towels. I went through each of the rooms systematically and cleaned any surface that dared to be dirty. Once complete, I vacuumed each room from the back to the front until I backed myself up to the entrance. This left that “someone just vacuumed every inch of this place” look. By the time my tasks were complete, it was too late to return the keys to the management office. So, I returned on Thursday and handed them over. My mail has already been forwarded for a few months; the electricity and the cable Internet are scheduled to be turned off; and all of the necessary paperwork describing my intent to move out had long been submitted. This means that I am done with that apartment. It lingered as an awful reminder of how this past winter went and I am so relieved to be out from under it. This leaves my head much more clear.

Since January 7, 2008, I have been able to move through the lines of business at work with relative ease. We have “modular training” that we run through from time to time. With each “skill set” that we learn, we must “certify” in it before we can move on. Thus far, I have learned four and will be going back into training for the fifth this month. This last particular skill set is entirely different from the others and should be a ton of fun. I’m definitely looking forward to getting into it and seeing if I will be able to handle it smoothly.

Because Monday of last week was designated as a national holiday, I actually got the day off work and I got to spend it at the track. Though I spend a ton of time at HPT because of Phil’s racing and track days, I rarely get to spend my own time on the track. In fact, this was just my second track day. We spent a few hectic hours preparing my bike for the track - it got new shoes, taped of head & tail lights, the fairings were stuck back on there, and it even got washed! I should give my bike that kind of treatment more often. All of these things helped me to work my way safely around the track. I had no issues, only a few minor bobbles, and made good improvements on my entries & exits, apexes, body position, speed, and overall control. I left the place wanting to hug everyone - and did.

At this point, that is how I am feeling day in and day out. I want to hug everyone. Not just small embraces - rather, huge, squeeze-you-until-your-eyes-bulge clasp. I’m calm, cool, and just loving everything right now. Hopefully I can continue this natural high without much interruption. I’ll be leaving for Texas on Wednesday after work.

Mother’s Day Isn’t For Me

A few weeks ago, Mother’s Day came and went, and it wasn’t without tears as usual.

Normally those tears are over my own mother. Not because I miss her, but because it’s just a reminder that I don’t have a mother to honor. I always send special cards to my Grandmothers and even called Phil’s Grandmother to wish her happy mother’s day. But I still feel like I’m lacking.

This year, the tears were also for my relationship with Zoe. We were up late the night before at our friends’ house. She got to stay up late and play with kids her age, while us adults were hanging out in the Man Garage playing games and acting goofy. Sunday morning rolled around and she was zonked out. The kind of sleep where her mouth is wide open, drool oozing from the corner of her lips, and she doesn’t move an inch when you softly say her name and rub her arm in an attempt to wake her. Originally, I had hoped to make pancakes and eat breakfast with her. But, due to her deep sleep, I let her go until she had a half hour to get up and around before her mother picked her up.

Per the Kansas Child Support Guidelines, if other arrangements cannot be agreed upon, the mother is to get her from 9am to 7pm. Everyone else in her life is ignored, despite the role they may play. So, I silently played by the books, woke her up, fed her, and clothed her before there was a rapping on the door at 9am. I got a big hug and kiss and she was gone.

I went about my day, looking forward to making a nice dinner and sharing about two hours with her before she was to hit the sack again, as the following day was designated for school. About 6:50pm, Phil’s phone rings and it’s Zoe calling from her mom’s phone wanting to know if she can just stay the night. I try to tell Phil in the background that she needs to come home so that we can spend some time with her. Eventually her mother gets on the line and they argue before Phil agrees to let Zoe stay because that’s what she wants.

The frustrating thing about this is that her mother wins her over with cheap junk food and video games. Tales from the child indicate on all levels that all she does while she is there is consume hot dogs and play Wii. In the unlikely event that she’s not doing one of those two things, her mother is buying her various material items of no value or dropping her off at Grandma and Grandpa’s, where she also does little to nothing but sit in front of the TV.

It is no wonder Zoe would rather be there, than at our home. Here, she eats vegetables, goes entire days without the boob tube on and interacts with others. She is given tools of creation like chalk, water colors, legos and blank drawing paper. None of these things are visually stimulating or mind-rotting as endless episodes of Hannah Montana or the mountain of children’s DVDs that she has that dwarf our small collection of DVDs. They just don’t compare.

When asked if Zoe had eaten dinner, her mother replied, “Yeah, she had a Lunchable.” Way to go, mom. I guess she’s getting some variety from the usual hot dogs and Mac & Cheese.

It didn’t seem that at any point she had considered that we wanted Zoe home for the evening. Nor did she seem to think that maybe I’d like to see her on Mother’s day. Perhaps she forgets that when I entered Zoe’s life, five years ago, she couldn’t walk up the stairs without gripping someone’s hand. That I’ve spent countless hours putting small clips and crazy pony tails in her hair. That I’ve snuggled with her on the couch and rubbed her back during coughing fits, puking binges, and various bumps and scrapes. I’ve spent five years dealing with temper tantrums, the ailment of childhood fears, and the neediness of a toddler. Or that I’ve been one of the last things she sees before falling asleep when she’s here, because I lay down and read Curious George, Skippy John Jones and Walter the Farting Dog to her.

Or, worse: Her mother considered all of these things and still didn’t see any reason to bring Zoe back to our house on Mother’s Day, but instead let her play Wii Mario and barely interacted with her before sending her to bed.

Either way, I ended up in tears. I don’t feel like I ask for much in the mother-daughter field. I know she’s not mine. But I was really looking forward to that one dinner.