And where are the girls?

A few weeks ago, actually, late October, i had asked R to help me bring the futon over to my apartment. I did not have anywhere to sit. In classic R fashion, he said yes but never followed up. My b-day was approaching and I wanted to have a place to sit on my b-day. So on Saturday I called and asked very politely when he thought he may have some time to bring the futon over. To my surprise he said "I can do it right now". OK, I said, not believing my luck. An hour or so later he showed up. I opened the door and he came in with parts of the futon. He went back to the car and brought the rest. I asked him when he thought we could other things, like bookshelves, and we got into some other conversation I cannot remember. Then he suddenly said "Oh, I should go, I have people coming over for dinner at 6. This made me wonder where he had taken the girls. I asked "where are the girls?" "At home" he said. At home by themselves? I said. "Don't start giving me your perfect parent shit, ok? Yes, they are at home, so what!!!" and went on with his yelling, to what I said, well, you should go because they are by themselves. And he left. Knowing that he does not have a sense of risk, that he does not pay attention and that he feels perfectly comfortable doing things that I don't is not an easy part of having 50-50 time with our daughters.

My first California Birthday

Dear friends, it is just short of a year since we moved to California, and my first birthday after Ranjeet and I separated, in June. I find myself missing you all terribly. I desperately need to have a way to feel close to all of you as I turn, well, OLDER. You probably cannot jump on a plane and come to party with me, but can you send me the title of a song? They will be the soundtrack to a special birthday party with Elsa, Maya and a few of my new California friends.

October swims

Every evening before the sun completely sets, my daughters and I walk back from the swimming pool dripping wet, to the bewilderment of our dozens of Indian neighbors who, wrapped in their wool shawls, watch their kids ride bikes and scooters around the courtyards.

Wrinkles looks

Maya is putting away the clean laundry. She is stuffing t-shirts. "Maya, cariño, you are going to get your clothes all wrinkled up like that" " Mom, I like wrinkles in my clothes, they enhance my tomboyish look"

My penumbra Art Class

Yesterday I felt very accomplished after teaching a 55 minute art class about Structural Lines to 33 4th graders. I had set up three still lifes for them to paint with temperas. I set up a large sheet of paper, two brushes., a plate with five blobs of paint and a black oil pastel for each kid. Then the lights went off and the whole neighborhood lost power. The clock on the wall stopped. There was an announcement. The kids came with Ms Che, who helped me open the only window. We did most of the lesson in partial penumbra. Then 10 minutes before the end, the lights came back on and the clock hands started racing towards their due position. There was a roar of amazement from the kids and I could see that even the normally solemn Ms Che got a spark in her eye at the thought of time travel.

I am so tired

I haven't had the courage to write anything here in the last couple of months. It has been a very hard couple of months. Just as I was being recruited for a new job across the country, DH was being diagnosed with ADHD.

While the diagnosis filled me with hope initially, it has proven disappointing in the end. I got hopeful because I figured that if now we knew what the problem was, we could surely fix it. And also because the books, the articles, everything I read about Adult ADHD seemed to indicate that it is a very "treatable" condition. After three months though, I do not see the light. Things have improved a little since DH started taking medication, to be sure. But not nearly enough. And my biggest worry, our children, continue to be exposed to the chaos, the lack of consistency, the lack of emotional connection, the unpredictability, the yelling, the name-calling... from their father.

As I right this, I can hear my husband yelling at our daughter M "what is the definition of a square?!?!?!?! three times in a raw, ever so louder. She says "daddy there is a fire!" (he is making dinner, one and a half hours late) " I KNOW THERE IS A FIRE, I AM TRYING TO PUT IT OUT!! HOW MANY SIDES DOES A SQUARE HAS????!!!" They say a person with ADD is like a dog with a bone, they won't let go of the bone, no matter what.

A couple of weeks ago, in a situation like this, I would have gone to the kitchen and intervene. I would have tried to calm him, to point out that he was yelling. But then, the accusing and name calling would have turned to me. He would have told me that the reason our daughters don't listen to him is because they know they can always get away with anything with me. Because I spoil them.

It has nothing to do with him. With the fact that he calls them "moron"

Have to quit, M is here

Tangled got us tangled

How did an outing to the movies with the girls turn into a nightmare?

When we arrived to the theater, Maya wanted popcorn and I said no. After the movie, she wanted popcorn and I said no, and she got a little winy. But wining about popcorn is not so unheard of in an 8 year old, I think.

Ranjeet, on the other hand, got on her case. He yelled. He called her names. And the nightmare unravelled.


I wrote this the day of the movie. i did not have the energy to finish it. That was months ago. a lot has changed. We live in separate places now.