Monday, July 30, 2012
Off to a new location. Find me there.
I have moved over to: www.swellnotes.com. Come and see!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Work
Lately, I have had thoughts that I never expected. I have been thinking about going back to
work. Granted, “back” to work doesn’t
quite fit me. I never had a career that
took flight. My degree in sociology never
led me to abundant opportunities. In all
honesty, I never expected to work for
all that long. I knew that I wanted to
have a family. I knew that I wanted to
stay at home with my children. So, these
new feelings have gone against who I thought I was a mother. More accurately, they go against who I hoped
to prove to be as a mother.
As adults, we watch vigilantly as the children in our lives children
grow and change day after day, year after year.
Yet, we can easily fail to notice our own growth and changes. I often look at my daughter with
disbelief. She is almost ten years
old. I have watched her personality regularly
transform over the years. When we met
she was a bald baby who cried incessantly.
Her voice and curly red hair grew with her and she became a talkative out - going
toddler. Next, she evolved into both artist and a quiet
elementary student. Over the last four
years she has been a soccer player and sports enthusiast. Now, she is back in
ballet slippers. I have always prided
myself on being very aware of her needs as she grows. I have always given her space to change her
mind, her likes, and her dreams. I
struggle to extend that same compassion to myself. I don’t often my own change of opinion and desires as
“growth”.
When a take an objective look I can see that I have grown
TREMENDOUSLY as a parent. I have also
become a much more effective communicator with all family, friends and
strangers. I am 99% more responsible
with money (which doesn’t say much since I used to spend 99% of my paycheck on
clothes). I am a more skilled and confident
cook, and a more efficient house keeper.
I have stretched as an artistic and creative being. I have become a teacher. So, how can I expect what I wanted from life
at 27 when I had my first child to match up to what I want from life now?
The cliché “mothers guilt” would really more appropriately
be called “mother’s curse” we are all dammed when we do and when we don’t. In fact, we feel dammed and even just
thinking about doing or don’ting. I feel
for working mothers. I can imagine that
leaving your child under the care of another is painful. Having to make the decision between a career
that you love and a child that you love (or money that you need to care for the
child that you love) is complex. In
contrast, staying
at home with children that I love leaves a different sort of pain and emptiness
- both in the intellect and the pocketbook.
These ramblings are no attempt to come to any decisive
thoughts or conclusions. If I had those, I would not need to ramble.
Another thing that I am becoming MUCH better at is waiting on
decisions. I like
my life wrapped in a tidy package. I can see now that the most beautiful of life’s
gifts don’t fit into a pretty box, nor are they presented as such. Like us they need room to grow.
Do you second guess your career choices?
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The story of Jack
I can hardly say “I can’t believe my Jack is 8 tomorrow”, he
has been counting down the days for months now.
Anyone who knows him knows that his birthday is near, he has made sure
of it. I can say that for the last 8
years, this firecracker has hijacked my heart and taken it for an incredible
adventure.
One of the favorite traditions that I have created with my
children falls on their birthdays. A few
years ago, I started telling them the story of their birth on each birthday morning. Of my three, Jack has taken to this the
most. So, in honor of his birth, I will
share it here today.
Jack:
You have always had ants in your pants. Three months before you were supposed to be
born, you decided that you just couldn’t wait.
You were ready to be born ahead of schedule. So, you landed the both of in the hospital
for one month. We spent a lot of time
alone together in that room. It was
there that I learned that you would not be an Abigail but a John Robert V, our
“Jack”. Then we waited, and waited….and waited. Two and a half months later, the Doctors
didn’t try to stop your escape. So, you
exploded into the world, heart setting fire to our lives.
I knew that you would be coming before I put Amelia in her
crib to sleep on the eve of your birth.
I also knew that Daddy wouldn’t be there for your big arrival. He was across the bay in Bangor waiting to
board a submarine. So, we stayed up and
waited some more. I devoured the pages
of birthing books trying to prepare us. Areeba
kept us company, following us around with her big, concerned vizsla eyes. She too knew you were coming soon. When the sun started to rise in the early
morning we headed to the hospital with Grandma.
Amelia, still asleep, stayed behind with Aunt Maura. She had no idea that she was about to be a
big sister. It was June 20, the longest
day of the year.
When we got to the hospital, you decided that you had waited
long enough. You were born in less then
an hour. Fast and wild, and a tornado of
emotion – just like today. The first
part that I saw of you were your huge feet.
The nurse handed you to me feet first.
They were so enormous that they hung out and arched from the swaddling
blanket. I was sure they must be half
as big as you were (and that something was wrong with them). I was more sure of the love I had with
you. When I first saw your face you
looked so strange. You were sucking in
your bottom lip so much that it looked as if you had a little beak for a nose. I thought you were so strange looking. But, I didn’t care. I had just been handed my heart, swaddled and
fierce. Two months later everyone told
me that you were ” too pretty to be a boy”.
Your feet, still big, now looked
human. Your eyes were wide and
bright. Your lower lip released.
Today, while I was unpacking Jack's school work, I found a flower that he had made. On each petal he had written a quality that he loves in himself. He had written:
Sense of Humor
Athlete
Scientist
Adventurer
Loves Animals
I don't think that flower can be limited to five petals, but I think he did a pretty good job in trying.
Monday, June 4, 2012
A Short Post on The Longest Pose
I am winding down a yoga practice in where I have been holding my longest pose ever. Almost two weeks ago I started feeling a tightness in my neck and shoulder. Almost like a muscle pull, but not quite.
Breathe flows in, breathe flows out this too shall pass.
It did, but only because I slept through the pain. The next morning brought stiffness, and intensity.
Breath quickness, I stop and slow it down. This too shall pass.
But, it didn't. Imagine being stuck in the extension of a shoulder press or in a clumsy Pincha Mayurasana...for ten days. It starts off manageable, but quickly feels like torture. There have been times where I have breathed through the pain or focused on a conversation and momentarily come out of the intensity. There have been times when I have gotten angry or sad. And, I have often felt sorry for myself. In the loneliest, quietest hours of night I have been present to surrender and grace, but more often pain and anguish. The longest pose, the longest practice - EVER.
On Thursday my x-ray confirmed that I have a bulging/slipped/herniated disc in my lower neck (C5/C6). Boo. To make things worse it showed that all of my discs look older then they should, so are at risk for more injury. Double boo. The pain is largely a result sandwiched nerves. I am starting to see some relief, but still have limited use of my right arm and hand, and have bicep weakness. My next practice will be recovery. As typing is still pretty uncomfortable, I will close at that. All the while breath still flows in and out.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Baby Lust
Driving back from the gym today Liam declared:
"I can't wait until the new baby comes!"
Me: Um...whah...huh? ...... You.... like babies?
Liam: No. But, I can't wait until our baby comes.
Me: So you would like to be a big brother?
Liam: Yes. Then I'll be sooo big, like Jack.
Me: We are not going to have anymore babies in our house.
Liam: I'd like a baby.
And then, that familiar twinge takes over. And then, the brief fantasy of having another baby (which of course is a girl who never cries and is born sleeping through the night). Although my heart sinks knowing that Liam will never be a big brother, the reality is that I do not want another baby. Our family is complete. I am starting to get a taste of the freedom that comes with having older children. Freedom of having more space for my myself.
No diapers to change.
No night feedings or wakings.
No waking for the day at 4:30 AM
No 4 PM witching hour
and with Liam in preschool
Tuesday and Thursday mornings to myself
And, then the twinge is gone...or surpressed. Either way, the daydream dies. I have had these little "maybe one more" episodes for years.
There was a time when I doubted motherhood altogether. When Amelia was a newborn, I went from dreaming of a big picture perfect family to raising an only child and going back to work as soon as possible. Thankfully, I stuck it out at home with Amelia. Thankfully, she stuck it out with me, accepting me and all of my faults. 20 months and a few spells of Baby Lust later, and baby Jack joined us. I was in love, but the Baby Lust was gone. I knew this time that our family was complete. A girls and a boy perfect in their imperfections. We were done, chapter closed.
Only it wasn't. Starting around Jack's 1st birthday the Baby Lust returned. I shooed it away, but it came buzzing back time and time again. Finally, when Jack turned 3, I realized that my longing wasn't staying away. Nine months later, baby Liam arrived. This time I knew I was done having babies. Still, the lust returned again a year later.
I could have ten children and still have bouts of Baby Lust. It isn't emotional, it isn't rational and it isn't sensible. It's biological. It started in my 20's and continues into my 30's. Time will tell whether or not I will long for just one well into my 40's. It is hard to close the door on having a baby in the house. The way that they arch their backs and tuck their legs when you lift their sleepy bodies from bed. The warm fuzzy heads with that delicious smell. The list goes on and on. Apparently, so does the Baby Lust.
Do you suffer from intermittent of Baby Lust?
"I can't wait until the new baby comes!"
Me: Um...whah...huh? ...... You.... like babies?
Liam: No. But, I can't wait until our baby comes.
Me: So you would like to be a big brother?
Liam: Yes. Then I'll be sooo big, like Jack.
Me: We are not going to have anymore babies in our house.
Liam: I'd like a baby.
And then, that familiar twinge takes over. And then, the brief fantasy of having another baby (which of course is a girl who never cries and is born sleeping through the night). Although my heart sinks knowing that Liam will never be a big brother, the reality is that I do not want another baby. Our family is complete. I am starting to get a taste of the freedom that comes with having older children. Freedom of having more space for my myself.
No diapers to change.
No night feedings or wakings.
No waking for the day at 4:30 AM
No 4 PM witching hour
and with Liam in preschool
Tuesday and Thursday mornings to myself
And, then the twinge is gone...or surpressed. Either way, the daydream dies. I have had these little "maybe one more" episodes for years.
There was a time when I doubted motherhood altogether. When Amelia was a newborn, I went from dreaming of a big picture perfect family to raising an only child and going back to work as soon as possible. Thankfully, I stuck it out at home with Amelia. Thankfully, she stuck it out with me, accepting me and all of my faults. 20 months and a few spells of Baby Lust later, and baby Jack joined us. I was in love, but the Baby Lust was gone. I knew this time that our family was complete. A girls and a boy perfect in their imperfections. We were done, chapter closed.
Only it wasn't. Starting around Jack's 1st birthday the Baby Lust returned. I shooed it away, but it came buzzing back time and time again. Finally, when Jack turned 3, I realized that my longing wasn't staying away. Nine months later, baby Liam arrived. This time I knew I was done having babies. Still, the lust returned again a year later.
I could have ten children and still have bouts of Baby Lust. It isn't emotional, it isn't rational and it isn't sensible. It's biological. It started in my 20's and continues into my 30's. Time will tell whether or not I will long for just one well into my 40's. It is hard to close the door on having a baby in the house. The way that they arch their backs and tuck their legs when you lift their sleepy bodies from bed. The warm fuzzy heads with that delicious smell. The list goes on and on. Apparently, so does the Baby Lust.
Do you suffer from intermittent of Baby Lust?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Veganized
In January I took the plunge and dove, head over heals into
veganism. I began by only committed
myself to a month of plant based eating.
But, I knew that I was sold for a lifetime. I was right, I have gone vegan and I am not
looking back. It was something that I
have wanted to do for years, but didn’t out of fear:
Fear that I would feel an outsider socially
Fear of being nutrient deficient
Fear of never eating cheese again
Now, I am still a rookie at this, but my fear has been
melting away. For all of you who think
that eliminating animal products is an odd thing to do, I assure you, I was
weird long before becoming vegan.
Furthermore, vegan or not, you probably have a pinch of freak too. We all do
I have toyed with the idea of going animal free since I
became vegetarian at 14. I have even
tried it from time to time. I always
felt a bit deprived, or weak. Little did
I know, those feelings were not from lack of animal protein. Rather, they we the screams of toxins leaving
my body. I took what my brain was
telling me as the truth. I failed to
listen to my body. Mistakenly, just as I
detoxified, I would throw in the towel. Well,
really Fear grabbed the towel and hurled it for me.
Over the winter break, I saw two films that changed my
outlook and sparked my interest again. “Fat,
Sick, and nearly Dead and “Forks over Knives”.
These movies had sat in our Netflix que for a while. Along with “Waiting for Superman” and other
films that I knew that I should watch but knew would shine the light on things
that live in a fog, I had let it sit for a couple of months. Having successfully abstained from (most) of
the annual holiday gluttony, I was feeling strong and inspired. I was also feeling a little smug. As a long time vegetarian and relatively
clean eater, I was hoping to sit down with my tea and give myself a pat on the
back. No such luck.
These two films reminded me of the health benefits of not
eating animals. It also gave compelling
reasons to give up all animal products and eat a plant-based diet. It didn’t stop there. I also gave up all caffeine and alcohol for a
month. I now drink caffeine once or
twice a week and limit alcohol to special occasions (which may, or may not
include the weekends (which may or may not include Thursdays)). After 22 years of eating meat free, I am now
reminded of why I don’t eat animals.
Swimming through the toxic waters of caffeine, alcohol,
dairy and eggs has had it’s ups and downs.
I couldn’t tell you much about the early days. Mostly, because I was completely and utterly
exhausted. As I pushed through these
lifestyle changes, I became tangled in many of my own demons. On those chapters alone, I could fill a
novel. I have found that jumping in with
enthusiasm is how I thrive in life. I
never like did like getting my toes wet first. And, hey, if it was good for Albert Einstien, maybe it could be good for you too.
Monday, May 14, 2012
You can Have Christmas
Looking at all of the many, many holiday's that we celebrate during the year, I can think of none I enjoy more then Mother's Day. This is a totally selfish confession. In fact, not one that supports the virtues that we as mother's are celebrated for at all. Regardless, you can take Christmas, Easter, Valentines, and the 4th of July out of my celebration rotation. Mother's day is where it's at. I should clarify that I am only speaking of the pagan rah rah of these holidays. I would, in fact not trade the birth of Jesus or the independence on our country for a few hours of guilt free pampering. But, the days, weeks, months, of shopping, crafting, planning, baking and discussing that comes with the rest of the hoildays would not be missed.
Mother's day is a beautiful day. First off, it is always on a Sunday. Unlike Birthdays that often require I put in a lot of work to help the kids celebrate me, Dad is always home. No one questions that I stay in bed way longer then everyone else. When I wake up, no one expects me to make breakfast. There is even breakfast waiting for me! And there are beautiful home made cards that say lovely things like "thank you for taking care of me, I love you". There are perfect and hilarious portraits of me with arms as thick as tree trunks wearing fancy dresses and an enormous umbrella smile. I get to wear garish mom bling made from giant rainbow colored beads and foam letters. I get to hide out and read, write and take a much too long shower. No one questions me. It is my day.
Yesterday was perfect. After a long winter's wait, we finally put our kayak in Lake Cushman for the first time ever. The sun was out and the clouds had taken sabbatical. The Lake felt as icy as the snowcapped olympics. Life felt perfect.
Just ask Jack.....
Now, flash forward three hours to the car ride back to Tacoma and ask Jack again. Go ahead, ask him. No. Wait a minute, he can't answer. He is busy vomiting into my cupped hands. And there, just as magically as it began, it all ended. There in lies the real mother's day. Just as generations parents have told their jealous children "everyday is kids day". Everyday is mother's day too. For better or for worse, I'll take them all.
Mother's day is a beautiful day. First off, it is always on a Sunday. Unlike Birthdays that often require I put in a lot of work to help the kids celebrate me, Dad is always home. No one questions that I stay in bed way longer then everyone else. When I wake up, no one expects me to make breakfast. There is even breakfast waiting for me! And there are beautiful home made cards that say lovely things like "thank you for taking care of me, I love you". There are perfect and hilarious portraits of me with arms as thick as tree trunks wearing fancy dresses and an enormous umbrella smile. I get to wear garish mom bling made from giant rainbow colored beads and foam letters. I get to hide out and read, write and take a much too long shower. No one questions me. It is my day.
(side note: Amelia and Jack are not abandon at shore, but in the care of loving grandparents)
Yesterday was perfect. After a long winter's wait, we finally put our kayak in Lake Cushman for the first time ever. The sun was out and the clouds had taken sabbatical. The Lake felt as icy as the snowcapped olympics. Life felt perfect.
Just ask Jack.....
Now, flash forward three hours to the car ride back to Tacoma and ask Jack again. Go ahead, ask him. No. Wait a minute, he can't answer. He is busy vomiting into my cupped hands. And there, just as magically as it began, it all ended. There in lies the real mother's day. Just as generations parents have told their jealous children "everyday is kids day". Everyday is mother's day too. For better or for worse, I'll take them all.
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