The weekday schedule of an (anti)housewife

7:30  wake up, wash face, brush teeth, put on make-up.

8:00 first wake up call for kids, prepare lunches.

8:15 second wake up call for kids, prepare breakfast.

9:00 drive kids to school.

9:15 either go home for breakfast and then go to coffee shop to study, or head directly to a coffee shop.

11:30 if mr. worm has not called, then it means he is not yet awake. call home to wake him up. continue to study.

12:30 home for lunch with mr. worm; or if work load is heavy, remain at coffee shop to study. (side note: it is practically impossible to do readings at home when the kids are back from school. i’ve tried hiding in my study, but the kids always run in and want to sit on my lap or want to play with me. so my best time to do my readings and writings are in the daytime when they are at school. i’ve considered to try to study at night, but things get too busy, and by the time i put them to bed and they fall asleep, it’s already 23:00.)

13:30 watch tv with mr. worm, or house chores.

15:00 try to do some home readings.

15:30 prepare snacks for kids, hang out with them.

17:00 make dinner.

18:00 eat dinner.

19:00 watch a little tv, or go online.

19:30 house chores.

20:00 shower/clean kids.

20:30 prepare late night snack for kids, then shower.

21:30 take kids to bed. (side note: depending on how tired i am, i either a. sleep until the next morning with the kids, or b. wake up after they fall asleep and spend time with mr. worm. (un)fortunately, the kids insist that i sleep with them, otherwise, if mr. worm were to put them to sleep, this would be a great time to do some more readings.)

Attachments

My mother has warned me that being a stepmother isn’t easy.

I’ve always thought that I knew what I was getting myself into.

What a bold and naive thought!

Since last night, Angela and Alex have been yearning for their mother. Tonight, I can see that it is progressing further. Usually, I’m the one that sleeps with them–I suspect the reason being that the kids are used to falling asleep next to their mother. Their only other choice than me being their dad, I think they’ve decided that I most closely resemble the mother figure. For the past two months or so, they seem to be doing fine with me as the “replacement”. I am quite hesitant of using that term. My step-mom philosophy is that I am not so much a mom replacement but more of a senior friend.
But as Mr. Worm says, technically, I am the replacement, whether I like to put it that way or not. I’m not sure how much I like that idea, neither am I sure how well my psyche is handling the lived truth of the matter.
Who am I kidding? I feel torn! On the one hand, I enjoy being the mother figure of the household: I enjoy dressing, feeding, showering the kids and putting them to sleep. I enjoy cleaning up the house and making sure everything is sanitised and safe for them to play in. And I feel rewarded when they run up to me at various times throughout the day giving me a big hug, asking for attention, and, ostensibly, seem to be attached to me. It really is as if I am the mom replacement, or better, I am their mom and they are my kids! And yet at the same time, I constantly remind myself that no matter how much they like me, no matter how much I like them and no matter how hard I try, the truth remains that I am not their mother and they are not my children.

And what better way to remind me of this unchangeable fact than the times when the children call out for their mother throughout the night, whining that they want mommy and they miss mommy. I have no hard feelings. I, myself, am also extremely attached to my mother, very possibly so much more than Alex and Angela are attached to theirs. I slept with my mom for the first thirteen years into my life. Naturally then, I can empathise when they miss theirs. I know that if it was me, there would be no way that anyone could take me away from my mother. It would be physically impossible! I simply wouldn’t allow it.

So tonight, I called for Mr. Worm to sleep with them. I figure that at times like these, dad is the best choice at making everything better.

Can I even begin to explain how horrible I feel inside?

Is it guilt? Remorseful because somehow I am (in)directly responsible for taking their mother away from them? Or sadness? Maybe even jealousy? Jealous because I can’t have my own children, and knowing that no matter how hard I try I cannot change the fact that they are not my children and never will be? Jealous because I have always wanted my own, could have had my own, but unfortunately chose to blow the opportunity away?

Then I ask myself: At this point in the game, what do I do? What’s my next move? Should I give up and call it game over? How can I bear to watch the kids call out for their mother? While they still talk to her on the phone and go visit her quite often in Taiwan (so far it’s been a few weeks every 2 months), of course they still miss her. I know how I would feel if I was their age in the same situation.
I suppose I ought to try to comfort myself by saying that they are still in transition. True, they have grown accustomed to me. But after all, they have only been with me for no more than three months, while they have known their mother for years. So they still need time to get used to the situation.

I don’t know what to do.

I know I am also in transition. For the most part, I’m dealing with it rather well. But when it comes to the kids it’s my weak spot.

I feel almost stunned.

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“The Economy of Friendship” – how I experience it.

What it all comes down to is really money.

No words can describe the disappointment and sadness that overcame me when I found out that the friend whom I first befriended when arriving here in Pittsburgh alone has decided that because of a life decision – my own life decision which doesn’t concern her – she can no longer talk to me, and that we can no longer be friends. This is someone that I once thought, if only because we’ve been seriously together almost everyday of the school year, would be a friend for life. I had already been able to picture her in my future milestones: Ph.D graduation ceremony, wedding ceremony, first baby… etc. Sure, we’ve really only known each other for about a year and a few months, but when we actually live together, a year really feels like two or three. I’ve always believed that you can’t trust the depth of a relationship by time. Some people click together immediately, and while the relationship has only been, say, three months, it may already feel as if you’ve known each other for a lifetime. I can’t say that this was precisely how I felt towards her, but it was pretty close. Sure, we have our differences, and sure, at times they clash, but I had been so sure that we could be relatively open with whatever was on our minds, and even if we had differences, our care for each other would motivate and keep open a channel of communication.

Apparently, I was the only one who felt this way.

A couple days ago, after having been given the cold shoulder for a good 6-7 weeks, I finally found out that the point of departure had to do with money. What is even more ludicrous, is that this unrest over money, at least in my point of view, really had to do with miscommunication: there were parts she didn’t understand, and instead of asking me for clarification, simply assumed the worst case scenario. When I got fed up and confronted her, she said,

How can I trust you? How can I trust that you will continue to pay? I know you want to pay, but you said that financially it will be difficult. So how can I know for sure that you won’t just leave and leave everything behind? How can I trust you?

That hit me like a thousand knives aimed directly at my heart. I could hardly believe my ears. I replied, as calmly as I could,

I can’t make you trust me. Trust is something that has to come directly from inside of you, from you own accord. I can’t force you to feel something you don’t. How long have you known me? How often has something like this happened? This is the first time [and frankly, I don't even think it counts, because I have continued to pay]. I really do expect so much more from you. What you just said about not trusting me, is really, really disappointing.

And yet, she continued to insist, implicitly, that I give her some sort of “thing” (tacit, I suppose that’s what she meant) that would guarantee I pay up my dues. Which made it even more disappointing for me. As if that was not enough knives to be stabbed with, she continued,

I don’t want to tell you this, but you ruined my life. You can just pick up everything and leave [without fulfilling your responsibilities]. I don’t want to talk to you, because you are going to leave anyways. So there’s no point.

I ruined her life?!

Wtf. Honestly, from what I’ve been hearing, and from her attitude, I can hardly believe that I, the Jennifer whom she cannot trust, would have such an impact on her life. Even if what she was talking about was money, have I not already explained – and emphasized many times too! – that I would continue to pay my rent even after I leave? Even if it means getting into an argument with Mr. Worm or begging my parents? Has she ever even thought about if it was someone else in my position, would that someone else continue to try to pay up dues even after having been treated like an outcast in her own home? If I continue to pay my rent even after moving out, it is really no longer out of obligation, but rather out of courtesy, out of the sheer fact that I treat her like a friend. If it was anybody else, who the hell cares if I’ve ruined your life? I leave, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

And what does she mean, “I don’t want to talk to you, because you are going to leave anyways”? So she is not planning to continue this friendship? All because of what? Because of a little misunderstanding on money?

If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore in the future, that’s your choice, and I respect that. But so long as I am here, you need to tell me these things. Because if i didn’t initiate this conversation, you probably wouldn’t even bring it up even after I leave. You can’t run away from problems and just ignore them. If you don’t try to solve them, they won’t go away, and the problems will always be there. If you have anything that you are unhappy about, you need to tell me. It’s only fair. You can stay mad at me, but at least tell me why you are mad. If you don’t tell me, I don’t know, and it will never go away.

It was so upsetting for me. It drew a few tears out of her, but honestly, for some reason, it did not move me at all.

I know money is a big issue for her. Which is why there are many times that I just paid for our expenses. I would treat her to coffee, pay for her meals every once in a while, and when she told me that she couldn’t pay rent on time, I would pay for the full amount first and have her pay me back later. I think I am a very generous person, and I think I have been really nice to her.

Apparently, all these little things that I have done for her, she has remained oblivious to. I don’t expect her to repay me, but at least a show of some appreciation is standard, and is really all that I ask for. Ostensibly, I have already asked for too much. If she can’t trust me, I’m sorry, I can’t be the same way to her as I have always been.

I know that you can’t expect every so-called “friend” you meet to become best friends forever. But at the very minimal, during the times we share together, at least show some respect, appreciation, and understanding. Is this too naive of me?

It is indeed true that in times of hardship your true friends will show. Real friends will stick by especially when things are going rough.

I am just sorry to know that she isn’t one of them.

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Indecisiveness

I’ve made up my mind.

After talking to our department and to other colleagues, I feel much better and relieved now that I know that there are open options. And because technically I only attended the first week of class, it might even be possible that I can get a full refund back on my tuition – which saves me a little over $8,000.00. (Education is expensive, yes, particularly if you are planning to go to grad school.)

I *will* miss school – in fact, I miss it already.

But as my professors and colleagues encouraged, don’t stop! Keep doing what I’m doing. I can still continue my readings, and continue writing articles for conferences and for publication.

After all -

Philosophy is life.

It can be done anywhere.

Heck, I may even be able to get to those readings that I’ve always wanted to spend more time on. This semester I would have to do a complete withdrawal for leave of absence. Hopefully, next semester I will be able to work something out with my professors. Perhaps I might be able to take two independent reading courses (which I had planned to do before this situation arose anyways) and maybe take a class at UW, that is, if they offer something good. According to Dr. Swindal (the Chair of our department), the philosophy program at UW is as analytic as heck. (Philosophy terminology: Many scholars have identified two sort of different strands in philosophy, the analytic tradition and continental tradition. Analytic philosophy continues from the British empiricists centered around claims of definite truth and logical reasoning. Continental philosophy takes a more intersubjective strand; this includes many of the German and French philosophers such as Edmund Husserl, Friedrich Nietzsche, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Jean-Luc Nancy, and of course – my favorite – Jacques Derrida. Whether or not there is a truly a difference between these two traditions is up for debate.) Usually, the analytics are scorned by the continentals, though now there seems to be an intent on reconciling the differences, or at least come to a common ground for dialogue. Anyhow, my point here seems to be that my choice might not be so grim.

What freaks me out is really meeting the future mother-in-law. I’ve talked to Mr. Worm, and he says that it shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she was the one who wanted me to return.

That still does not take away my anxiety.

I am leaving back to Seattle this Friday, and at the moment, I am not feeling too distressed; I’ve had about two weeks to sort of “get into the zone” and letting reality settle in. “It’s really happening!” I keep telling myself.

Last night, when I told my roommates, I think Naoko was the one who took it the hardest. I didn’t even know until I sat down moments later and talked to her one-to-one. She started crying, saying that she could not understand why I would make such a decision, but could not say anything more because it is my life, my choice, and because she does not exactly know the whole story… and of course, she will miss me, and more importantly, she worries about my future and whether I will have a good life.

In response, I gave her a long, philosophical speil about my decision, about love, about friendship, about life. And now I reproduce it here.

Humans can never predict the future; even knowing this, they still attempt to predict, and strive strenuously to prepare for whatever ills may come there way: advancements in technology and medicine to ward off biological diseases and natural disasters is a good instance. Unfortunately, shit life happens.

Life happens. Life is happening, and life will always be happening.

There are many things about life that we cannot change, many circumstances that we cannot control. And when shit life happens, and we are thrown in the most disagreeable, most paradoxical situation that seems to defy all possible solution and drains our contentment, making us believe as if there is nothing to be done, estranged in the odds of life – one wonders if life is indeed already paved for us. I am no deterministic. While there are many things we cannot control (we cannot control how the other person will act, we cannot control the weather, we cannot control what will happen tomorrow), and many other things that are extremely difficult to control, what I strongly believe is that with just a switch of our perspectives, the situation, however painstakingly difficult, suddenly becomes much more bearable.

Humans are solitary beings. Solitary beings that yearn for company of others. We are born alone, and one day we shall die alone as well. It’s a brute fact of life; nothing can change this. The people around us will never always be there. There will come a time in the future where one friend must see the other friend die; before I become a friend, there is already the condition that we will go our separate ways, I cannot always be there for you. One of us will carry the burden of the other after this separation.

This has not been an easy decision. But it is because of this indecisiveness that I must make a decision. I cannot bear (I don’t think anyone can) being internally torn, contradictory, split. I must side. As Jacques Derrida put it, you cannot feed all the stray cats that come running to your front porch. You will one day run out of resources, and many of the stray cats will die, no matter how good your intentions are. You must make a decision.

I must make a decision.

But this indecisiveness is precisely the beginning of responsibility. It is because one is responsible to the other that one is torn between decisions. Humans are selfish, yes, but they are also considerate, sensitive beings.

Of course I will miss Naoko, and Ching-Chia, and Nancy, and all my beloved professors and colleagues…. I’ve grown accustomed and fond of this place.

But like what Dr. Swindal said, You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Everything else can be reappropriated in the future… if I have the ambition and determination.

I do.

So trust in me.