Mozy Update

Well....when I signed up, Mozy analyzed my computer (laptop), and my two external hard drives and told me it would take 4 days to upload all that crap. It was about 300 GB of stuff. I decided I didn't really need to backup all the digital scrapbooking products I had, so I customized the backup to include just my photos, my videos, my text documents, my quicken data and my photoshop projects. That was pretty easy, but it still added up to almost 200 GB of data.

I started the backup on Tuesday afternoon. It's been running continuously since then and I've tried to avoid using the laptop for other things since the backup rate slows when the computer's being used. Today is Friday, about 65 hours later, and it's only at 4.4% backed up. I'd like to take my laptop to work with me on Monday, so I sure hope it's done by then.

Mozy says that average upload rates are 200-500 kb/sec. According to the backup status window, I'm averaging between 400-500 kb/sec, so I guess this is pretty average. Subsequent backups, of course, should be much quicker, but wow. I'm afraid my poor little laptop and my external drives are going to die from exhaustion before this is over. I never leave my laptop on this long.

Mozy On Along

I've been checking out the options for online backup. You know the question, "If there were a fire at your house, what's the first thing you'd grab?" Assuming the kids were out, I'd have to grab my external hard drives. I have an older 150 GB drive that's full, and a newer 250 GB drive that's half full of all of my digital pictures and photoshop projects. Losing all of that.....would be a huge, coma-inducing bummer.

Right now I'm trying to win a free year at Mozy. The reviews I've read have been pretty positive, and if I win I'll let you know how it goes. I read on Ali Edward's blog that it estimated it would take 9 days to backup all her stuff. Duuuuude, that's a whole lotta stuff. It runs in the background, and then it back itself up on a regular schedule.

Even if I don't win, I'll probably have to sign up since it's only $4.95/month. Not bad for peace of mind. (p.s. I wasn't solicited for this review but I'd take a few free months if Mozy wants to give them to me).

Also, I like websites with a sense of humor. Mozy offers these alternatives to online backup:

Alternatives to MozyHome

• Burn a new CD or DVD every Sunday night and store it at your brother-in-law's office.
• Pay $200/year for an online backup service that uses old, mediocre software.
• Buy a $200 external hard drive and hope your office doesn't burn down.
• Do nothing and don't worry about backup. (We suggest closing your eyes, plugging your ears and repeating "I'm in my happy place, I'm in my happy place.")
• Run a cron job of rsync, gzip and mcrypt piped over ssh to your friend's server over his DSL line.

A Mother's Prayer: Please, God, Don't Let Me Screw This Up

I've been feeling pretty burnt out lately. Everywhere I turn, at work, at home, someone needs me. My job is, by definition, being needed for 50 minutes at a time. Then 10 minutes to heat up some more tea and go to the bathroom (a natural result of all that tea)...then another 50 minutes of being needed.

And you all know what it's like with a 4-year-old and a 6-year-old. A. has always been able to entertain himself, but to Ben, nothing's worth doing if he's doing it alone. He reminds of those gulls on Finding Nemo, where they're all yelling "Mine! Mine! Mine!" except he makes it sound like "Mom! Mom! Mom!"

As I've complained before, my hormones are all over. No matter how hard I try, I'm a raving bitch at least part of the time, the kids watch too much TV, they have too many chicken nugget dinners, have to take a bath in a dirty bathtub sometimes, etc.

But then today was A.'s last day of first grade, and with the last day comes report cards. I read, "His writing is truly extraordinary for a first grader. Everything is there. Highly original." And then I teared up when I read, "A. happily does outstanding work in all areas. It is so rare to see such a well-rounded, happy, able student." And his "cultural" teacher (science, geography, etc.) wrote, "Outstanding! Enthusiastic! A pure delight!"

God, I hope I don't screw this up.

Only Two

Having two kids is great. We all fit in the 4-door sedan just fine, I have a hand for each of them to hold in the parking lot, the double stroller comes with two seats, and "Kids Eat Free" places often will only let you get two free kids meals. It works quite well. I am beyond lucky to have two strong healthy (and, may I say, rather attractive) children.

So why do I feel guilty that I only have two? Why do I even phrase it that way: "only two"? I have no desire to get up three times in the middle of the night, retrieve a pacifier 10 million times in an hour, or nurse at the keyboard. I am often grateful that with two boys, I don't have to deal with the world of princesses and Barbie and highly sexualized teenybopper girls. I'm really quite cool with that. I love that they sleep all night long, and are just getting to the point where they can get up by themselves in the morning! That, in fact, is a cause for celebration and lots more sleep! So why am I not at peace with that decision?

I always thought I'd have three kids, but I also pictured myself several inches taller and I've let that go. I don't think three is the magic number. I don't think there IS a magic number (although I'm pretty sure if there is one, it's not 8).

If I were told I couldn't have any more kids, I'd be OK, and feel blessed with the ones I have. If G. were resolute in his desire to only have two kids, I'd be OK. He doesn't particularly want any more but if I felt really strongly about one more he'd consider it because he wants me to be happy. What's hard for me is that I'm making an active choice not to have any more children. By choosing to use birth control, I'm responsible for the choice.

I used to wish my IUD would fail. Not because I was desperate for a third child, but because then the decision would be out of my hands, since in that case I wouldn't terminate the pregnancy and it would be a surprise we'd just have to deal with. I just wasn't willing to get it taken out and say I really did want a third child.

I'm NOT desperate for a third child, and I do feel like our house and hearts are full with our boys. But it's weird....I also feel like I'm rejecting someone who already exists somewhere (and yes, it's a she) on some plane, and I'm closing the door on her, rejecting her. I feel guilty and like I'm choosing the easy way out because I'm too lazy to deal with a third infant. It's a very strange dilemma that doesn't make sense to my logical mind.

Pretty soon the issue will be out of my hands. Maybe it's already happened. These eggs are getting pretty old, along with the rest of my body. I just hope I don't regret my choices.

We Like This Book

More on my product review blog.

Brain Dump and a Video

I've been avoiding the blog lately, for several reasons.

1. I've got some heavy stuff on my mind (heavy, like spiritual seeking and meaning-of-life questions, nothing bad), and to write about these thing require time and brain power, both of which I am sadly lacking lately.

2. 24 hours is quite simply not enough time in a day. Bad planning on someone's part. I refuse to bow down to the dominant paradigm and am therefore declaring that my own personal days are now 32 hours long.

3. Greg, in another bit of bad planning, was born in the month of June. That means his birthday and Father's Day are less than two weeks apart. He does such a good job planning my birthday and Mother's Day weekends (which are conveniently placed five months apart) that the pressure is tremendous.

4. One of the things he wants for his birthday is for our hours and hours of videotape to be transferred to DVD. I had a video service do this with about half of our videos a few years ago, and it cost an arm and a leg and part of a torso. So this time I'm doing it myself which takes FOREVER. You have to transfer it from the video camera to the computer in real time, then you gotta put in menu markers, then it takes twice as long to burn the DVD. Forget editing. You took 30 hours of video of people opening Christmas gifts, you get 30 hours of people opening Christmas gifts.

Occasionally, though, we find a treasure, which is the reason we videotape all those hours to begin with, isn't it? A. was just three and he thought he could read. He's reading David Sedaris' "Me Talk Pretty One Day" here, but he turns it into something about Disneyland and "Sowf Amewica" which is amazing, as he'll tell you. Then he finds info on how to sell your child. Unfortunately, he was making it up and Irving Yalom doesn't actually write anything on that subject.



(I wish the quality was better, but I haven't figured out how to do that. It's amazing I'm even able to get this up here, frankly).

Guilt

Ah, Mommy guilt. I'm not talking about the kind where you aren't feeding your child all-organic produce or actually try him on solids before one year, or don't breastfeed every hour, or park him in front of Sesame Street every day because goddamn it you have to get SOMETHING done.

I'm talking about the guilt because my beautiful 4-year-old has been away from me for almost 3 days and how much do I miss him? Not at all.

It's been so EASY this weekend. A. pretty much does what I ask him to, when I ask him to do it. I haven't snapped at him once in the last 3 days because he doesn't have to jockey for position, defend himself against his younger brother's attacks, nor is he tempted to annoy his younger brother and make him scream. He has no audience for his poop and pee jokes, so I haven't heard them.

There's been remarkably little whining. I'm burning all the old home movies to DVD for G's birthday, and what do I hear in the background of almost all the videos? Benjamin whining.

Don't get me wrong - he's a beautiful star in my life. But, he's also very, very social and wants attention 24/7. G. and I joke that the perfect present for him would be a full-time aide.

I'll pick him up tomorrow and kiss his dimples and get some snuggle time when we get home, and I'll love on him as much as I can. But I'm afraid that tomorrow between 5pm and 8pm, when the boys are at their sibling-rivalry worst, I'll wish he was back in OR.

No pithy conclusions, no insight. Just guilt.