Year's End

This is it. When I started this blog, when I set this challenge, I had no idea what would lay before me. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d actually follow through on it. There’s something just a wee bit profound about having documented every single day of an entire year. And what a year I chose to document.

It’s been a wild ride that’s for sure. This time last year, I will admit I had even less of a clue than usual about what lay before me. I was walking the razor thin edge of sanity it felt like, living hour to hour without any will or want to look past that. I was forced, because of circumstance and choice, to confine myself to the absolute present. And over the last year, I can say that there is no longer a gun to my head. The circumstance never let up, not for one minute all year long, but the choice changed. It went from hanging on to hanging in. Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed the expanse that separates those two things.

As I’ve written before, I am such a different person now I’m fairly sure my very DNA has been re-written. Even though this year has been suspended in a perpetual state of drama and trauma, I find myself more utterly grateful for that shift in being than I’ve ever been for anything else. Even though this year has seen almost every person I love in some sort of danger, I wouldn’t give it back for the world.

I will, however, not miss it either. This year has been hell. And I am now, on the cusp of 2010, wishing fervently for the upcoming year to be completely boring, calm and full of blessings. I could do with some boring.

And I’m setting myself yet another writing challenge. So head on over to www.write52in52.blogspot.com to check out my foray into writing fiction.

As for this blog? Well, truthfully there was one measly day that I missed in April. So I didn’t really complete the challenge did I? Good thing I have another year to try again. I’ll see you tomorrow.

College Roommate

My college roommate, C, and I have had an up and down friendship to be sure. We’ve put each other through huge challenges, of the best and worst kind, and been there for each other through some of the hardest and loveliest times in our lives. We’ve also had huge breaks in contact – years in fact. The last of which was more than 4 years. We’ve recently gotten back in touch and while there was some initial timidity on both our parts in the beginning, I think we’ve got the kinks worked out again. Although we’ve spent months only IM’ing and emailing – it was starting to feel like some sort of online relationship formed on some low-end dating site. But we talked on the phone today for the first time in years and although we began with fits and starts and a bit of hysterical laughter as we once again found our footing, at the end of our three and a half hour conversation, we were back to finishing each other’s sentences and giggling like the silly girls we can be.

She and her husband are in the process of adopting their first baby and I’m so over-the-top excited for them I can hardly sit still. And although I’m sure she’s tired of me tossing out tidbits of unsolicited advice, I’m just thrilled to be in her life to watch her become a mother.

In this time of change and shifting and continued transformation, I’m utterly thankful to have her back in my life. Mostly because I feel like I can use all the weapons I can shove into my arsenal and she is one of the most formidable women I’ve ever met. She’s brilliant to be sure, but she has tenacity the likes of which I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered.

At the core of our friendship, I think, is laughter. We make each other laugh without even trying. We can be unabashedly uncouth, bring out the sharpest sarcasm and driest sense of humor and still be in complete sync.

And there is the history. I am constantly reminded how comforting it is to share my life with people with whom I’ve shared history.

Change it Up

Sesame Street has been on the air for 40 years today. NPR did a big story on how it’s changed throughout the years and what’s stayed the same. Apparently the biggest thing that has stayed the same is that the show could count on the kids loving pretty much whatever they did. Because it turns out that kids are super adaptable. It’s the adults who disagree with the change. I laughed out loud when I heard this.

Because here’s the thing: as parents we go out of our way to get our kids into routine pretty much from birth. Feeding schedules, sleeping schedules, developmental schedules, you name it and we have a schedule or recommended method for it. And the routines only get more entrenched and complicated as the kids get older. We all cuss out daylight savings time for screwing up the kids’ schedules and blame all the temper tantrums and sleep troubles on the slightest disruption in routine. Even when we don’t really think we have a routine. We stay home on week nights instead of having family get togethers because we don’t want to mess up the kids’ routines. We schedule our whole lives around naps and eating and homework and school and anything and everything else we can jam into our daily lives.

But according to all of the child development experts that Sesame Street calls on when constructing its programming, children are utterly and completely adaptable. They don’t care if Elmo is moved around with wires or if he’s computer generated. They don’t care if Big Bird says hello the same way every morning. They don’t care if the Sesame Street sets are the same every time they tune in. As long as the show is there and singing and engaging and giving them awesome Muppets to look at and believe in, they couldn’t care less whether Cookie Monster has teeth or not.

I guess it is nice to know that as long as my kids are engaged and being loved through every day that that’s good enough for them. Now, if I could just figure out how to let go of my need for routine we’d be getting somewhere.

Just a Mom

I read a piece today in a newly discovered magazine – Get Born – that really spoke to where I am right now. The author was writing about how embarrassed she was to admit that she is “just a mom.” Knowing full well that under that embarrassment was indignation at forcing herself to add the “just” in there. And I am so there.

I started my own business when The Boy was born so I could work from home. A year ago I decided to go back to work full-time (i.e. steady paycheck instead of unsteady contract work) in the face of our disintegrating financial situation and I’ve thoroughly documented my journey towards that end. It’s just become abundantly clear to me that the universe wants me right where I am for some reason or another. Here, present, with my children and family as my first priority. Out of nonprofit and away from fundraising. And for the first time since becoming a mother I have to now say that I am a stay at home mom. And there is a large part of me that feels utterly defeated in that statement.

I vividly remember wishing that I could just take the time to focus on my kids when I was working. I remember wishing for the client juggling to stop and the deadlines to ease. I just wanted the time to paint and frolic and be with these children who were growing so fast. And now I have it. And for that I’m completely grateful.

But that over-achiever in me that lurks just under the surface has its hackles raised at the idea of “just” being a stay at home mom. And even though the number of stay at home moms that I have in my life far outweigh the number of working mothers, I still feel like I’m letting my friends down. From what no one knows, but the feeling is there nonetheless.

I can rattle off hundreds of things that I do in a day or week or month. Important, necessary, even vital things that I do to keep my family humming along. How much longer can I justify devaluing my work in this family?

Peaceful Temper Tantrum

I have now been sitting here staring at a blank page for more than an hour. It has been one of those totally mellow days where I’m trying to soak in the peace and quiet in an effort to banish the sickness and re-charge my soul. I’ve managed to dispel the usual guilt that accompanies me taking time for myself, which in and of itself is a huge stretch. Basically I just decided to take this week and really give myself permission to do whatever I needed to do at any given time.

Since I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by this plague that was brought home to share, I knew I wouldn’t really make any plans other than just staying home and taking it easy. Which was fine. I had a couple of books I wanted some quality time with and I was looking forward to the opportunity to just watch movies all day long.

And I was well on my way to accomplishing all of these things. But tonight I’m feeling all temper tantrum-y and like I have to justify how I’m spending my week off. All of the guilt and judgment I’ve been shooing away all week rushed back into the room all at once. And that pisses me off. Should I have used the time to clean and organize and get stuff done? Probably. Should I have made some special plans to get together with friends I don’t get to see often enough? Probably. Should I have put more effort into going down to my parents’ house to spend time with them and the kiddos? Probably. But I just flat didn’t want to. I haven’t been feeling good. And I am just tired to the core. I just needed a true break this week to recharge and shift perspective.

My year thus far has been trauma followed by drama followed by catastrophe, rinse and repeat. And it feels like we may be slowly climbing up onto a plateau where we can ride out the rest of 2009 in peace and quiet. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that and I thought I’d start with my own inner peace and quiet.

Happy Birthday Sweetest Boy!

Six years ago today at 8:47pm, The Boy was born. I had gone in to my OB for my weekly appointment in the morning, feeling huge, but fine. Knowing that my due date was the next day and wondering if I had made any progress at all or if all of those pesky Braxton Hicks contractions were just there to get my adrenaline pumping. I was excited and exhausted all at the same time. Mostly though, I was expecting her to check me, find everything to be as it should be and to send me home with a “see you next week!”

Instead, this is the conversation that followed:

OB: “How are you feeling?”
Me: “Very pregnant, but fine.”
OB: “That’s not what this says.” (Eyeing my chart with a wary glance.)
Me: “Oh really?”
OB: “Yeah. You’re spilling protein and your blood pressure is through the roof. You’re having a baby today.”

To say that I was shocked doesn’t even begin to cover it. I truly felt fine. Not the blurred vision, painful, totally out of it that preeclampsia and high blood pressure should have been making me feel. So she gave us instructions to go to the hospital, that they would be expecting me and that they would start induction immediately and she’d be by to see me in a couple of hours to break my water. And off we went.

I called my mom to share the news and she got in the car immediately. I called our friends and my husband’s parents and brother. We luckily already had my bag packed and in the car so off to the hospital we went. I was nervous beyond belief. I was not at all prepared for being induced. I was not at all prepared to walk into the Labor and Delivery ward not in active labor. This was entirely outside of my expectations.

But eight and half hours later, The Boy entered the world. There were moments I thought I would never make it. But I did (thanks in huge part to my amazing husband). He was big, beautiful, unbelievably strong and hungry. And he still is. Happy 6th Birthday my sweetest boy!

Thoughts on the Future

Every time I look up it seems like another month is gone. So as I am heading into the last quarter of this year, I naturally have started thinking about the end to this project. I’ve really grown to love being forced to write every day. So I have been trying to think about what I’ll do when my 365 days are over. Trying to figure out how I could still have some sort of commitment to keep my writing going but something that will kick it all up a notch so to speak.

One of my favorite things about this whole project has been the symmetry of it. I love the numerical constraint. It forces me to focus within the word confinement. But I’ve gotten really good at it. I know how to manipulate my writing to achieve the word count and I’ve gotten much better at allowing my writing to be as raw as it gets while staying true to myself. I have let myself just put it out there for better or for worse. That in and of itself is huge for me. Before I started this blog I hardly ever let anyone read my writing, let alone broadcast it on the internets for everyone to find and trip across.

So I’ve been trying to figure out how to push my bravery even farther. And, at the same time, how to push my writing. Because even though I know you’ve all loved the year long, in-depth guided tour of my deepest, darkest neuroses, I’d love to be able to write about more than my day-to-day life. I’d love to take some risks and see what I can really do. And while I would love to go to grad school post haste, there is just no way to make that work right now. So I thought maybe I could put myself through some sort of boot camp.

I’ve got a couple of ideas percolating, but I thought I’d throw it out there for you as well. I’m blessed with some pretty incredible writers who read this blog, and I’d love to hear from you! Have any ideas for where to take my writing next?

The Gifts of Rain

The Girl and I went to “big playdate” today. I’ve been a part of a mom’s group here for years and they have had a weekly playdate at the same park, on the same day since the group’s inception. And I used to go religiously. And then life got crazy and I pretty much stopped going for the last year. But I thought now that it was just The Girl and me that it would be a fun thing for her to do again to keep up with her social interaction and get me back out into the world of friends and community.

And I don’t think it was until today that it truly sank in how very much I’ve changed over the past year. Seeing these women who used to be such intimate pieces of my everyday life and who became casualties to the deep, soul-level contraction that I put my life through over the last year really illustrated in black and white the fruits of my labor.

There was a time when I would've seen any of these women and focused only on how much thinner or prettier or successful they were than me. Or how much better behaved their children were. Or any number of other deficiencies that I saw in myself. And today as I was standing under a huge tree dodging the pouring rain with one of these women, catching up a bit after not seeing each other at all over the last year, that I realized that I wasn’t doing any of that. I was purely, and completely, focused on the simple fact that we were sharing space and it was lovely to see them. Focused on how big all of our children have grown.

I cannot tell you what a gift that realization was. To have the self-given permission to simply just be. To not have the need to hide or cover up or suck in or brush over any number of self-perceived faults and blemishes. To allow myself to be taken exactly where I am. Right now. And to be able to in turn see them for all of their glory and beauty. I love the rain.

Life in the Slow Lane

**I'm sorry I dropped off the face of the earth without warning!! But I left the state and didn't have any cell service, let alone internet access. So I'm sorry these are all so late, but here they are for your reading enjoyment!**

Among several others of my most attractive personality traits, I think I’ve well documented my lack of patience. I hate waiting. But wait for a couple of weeks I shall have to do. And maybe waiting this time will be a little more bearable because I’m still full of the feeling the interview left me with as well as the joy of seeing friends. I find myself actually looking forward to the upcoming week. Having the opportunity to just hang out with The Girl while The Boy is in school. She and I having the chance to just make up our days as we go along because we have absolutely nothing on our calendar this week. It’s a rare freedom, and I’m intent on enjoying every minute of it.

So in the midst of the waiting, there is actually a whole week to look forward to. Maybe we’ll go to the zoo or the natural history museum. Or maybe I’ll take her swimming. Or just sit out on the front step and laugh as she plays in the sprinklers. I think we’ll go back to the library since she loves it so much.

I’m pretty sure that our neighborhood school starts this week, so she won’t have any friends to play with. It’s really just she and I.

This is a chance for her to be an only child of sorts. The Boy had almost three whole years of being an only child before she came along. But The Girl has never really had the experience of having all of my attention at her beck and call. And I’ve never had it to give. With the prospect of me going back to work full-time and her going to a full day daycare or preschool, the idea of being able to just be with my daughter is rather appealing.

The Boy starting first grade has really reminded me of how fast childhood passes. And with the hopeful possibility of our lives getting a lot faster and busier in the months to come, I’m going to take advantage of this slow time to enjoy my children and my life before change takes over, one way or another.

Lighter if Not Better

Everything’s going to get lighter, even if it doesn’t get better…

That is what I am hoping for more than anything right now. I don’t foresee it getting any better for a while yet, but if it could just get a little lighter, I think I’d have a fighting chance of getting through it all with some grace.

The last time I felt this way was right after college. I had just spent 4 years working my ass off to get a triple major done in the normal 4 year time span and was getting ready to start another 6 years towards a PhD. I was daunted and burnt out and exhausted. Now I’ve been working diligently for the past almost 6 years to raise my amazing son and 3 years raising my gorgeous daughter and through one reason or another, I’ve spent the last 6 months afraid for them. And fear takes so much energy. Energy that I couldn’t spend on work and thus we are in the financial situation we are in currently. Energy that I couldn’t spend on recharging myself and my passion. Fear for your children is an all consuming thing that takes every ounce of energy you have.

Probably a mother more enlightened than myself would have given up the fear a long time ago and came to the realization that regardless of whether they are on the playground or in the hospital, they are individual beings that each have their own karma to live and work through and even though I can stand by them to guide them, they will have to walk their own paths. The sickness and pain over the last several months are part of that path and all I can do love them through it. The fear does no one any good.

So here I am. Feeling a bit dramatic, but trying not to show it. Struggling through the daily grind while being grateful for every “normal” day. Resenting the non-change of every moment while relishing the inherent gifts. No wonder I’m burnt out. No wonder I’m so tired. It’s like living a dual life. And even though I’m a Gemini, I’m not that good.

6/22/09 - H Day 2

“I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother is having a heart attack.” – ER doc

P and I had gotten mom on the ambulance and raced to her car to follow them to the ER. We got to the hospital, found our way around and waited for someone to get us as they were “still working on her.” We both uneasily, but thoroughly, convinced ourselves that it was food poisoning or indigestion or a panic attack. Even in the face of text book heart attack symptoms, we worked hard to find all remotely plausible alternative explanations. But they led us back to her room, where they were indeed still working on her, and the very nice ER doc kneeled down before me and crushed my illusions with a huge frying pan of reality.

P and I looked at each other and immediately started in on planning mode. How would we get my dad here? Where should we have her transferred to (the hospital didn’t have the facilities she needed for treatment)? What mode of treatment should we authorize immediately?

In the end we chose a brand new cardiac unit about an hour outside of Denver, where they would transport her to and a blood clot busting drug called Retavase which would be her best bet given how much time had already passed. I was going to book my dad a plane ticket for first thing in the morning and P would pick him up from the airport in Denver. J would help me pack up our hotel room and book the ticket. I would follow P in my mom’s car to the new hospital.

So many details and nowhere in any of those choices was there an answer to the simple question of whether my mom was going to be ok. The hospital in Laramie didn’t even possess the facilities to tell me the severity of the heart attack. Only that immediate action was warranted and they wanted her on the road ASAP.

I ticked through my check list as quickly as possible and got in the car, trying not to think, chain smoking and trying to figure it all out.

3/29/09 - Re-Entry

My mom and I stayed up until 1am talking last night. And my body was literally vibrating. From all the energy of the kiddos and being back in the craziness of the “real” world. And every time I tried to go to sleep, my brain went into movie mode and just started sprinting. So I did not sleep very well. But I actually wasn’t that tired this morning and driving back home wasn’t a problem.

The Boy was so sad to leave his Nana and Papa this morning, but also really excited to see his Dad. It was hard to see him struggle with that, especially since I was resisting coming home and it would have been much easier to just stay at my parents’ house for another couple of days. I guess that is one big benefit to having them live in the middle of nowhere.

Coming home was really hard. I tried to ground myself by doing very tangible things like unpacking, getting laundry ready, catching up on email, looking through mail. Just generally settling back in. But by the end of the evening I felt so toxic I was having a hard time breathing. I sat for a bit before trying to go to bed to see if that would help. And I think it centered me enough to be able to fall asleep, which is where I am now heading.

I know that part of the toxicity is my response to my environment and my mind going into drama mode. That my life is about to go upside down and I’m projecting drama and tension in anticipation of that transition. No matter how much peace or clarity I have around the changes that are coming, there is still a great deal of uncertainty surrounding how it is all going to look and pan out.

But fear only exists in the future. I know this to be true. I just have to remember it and allow it to ground me in the present moment. Even though big changes are coming, I have to remember that each of those changes consist of days, which consist of moments. And each moment is a gift.