Dancin'

I've written before about my son's reactions to a couple of special songs. He loves music. He dances, he sings along (wordlessly thus far), he becomes even more joyful than normal. His reaction is exactly what I would've hoped it would be, basically. Coming from a family in which music is enormously important (my grandfather is the proverbial "leader of the band"), I hoped he would inherit that elemental appreciation, and he has. One of my favorite things is to put on a song I really love and dance with him and sing to him. To my great excitement, it seems to be one of his favorite things, too. I love this. For me, music is one of those things that can completely change my day. When I get into a black funk like I did earlier this week, one of the ways it can lift is if I can find that right song on my way home. That can literally turn my whole day around. And I'm so glad the same seems to be true for B. When he's really, super fussy, particularly when we're doing his nebulizer treatment, and I start to sing 'You Are My Sunshine' he immediately settles down. Anyone who knows me knows the significance of this song throughout my life, but this is just one more chapter of the story between us.

Who Was That Sad Sack?!

Blech! Seriously...who was that chick in that last post? What a sad sack! I guess everyone has bad days. It's inevitable. And maybe one of my fellow working moms will come across that post when she's having a bad day, and she'll realize that other working moms have moments of insanity, too, and it'll comfort her. Right?

Bad Day. Or week. Or Whatever.

Some days, it's like nothing goes right. The baby is grumpy and screaming. The coworkers are grumpy and screaming. You're exhausted because you haven't slept through the night since your honeymoon (in 2006). You have a headache and your shoulders are in knots so tight that lifting the screaming baby caused you to pull a muscle. Your bank account has dwindled to a point you haven't seen since you were paying more than you probably should've for an apartment you loved in the city. You're facing another daunting winter of driving hours in the snow to reach a job that you hate. And then hours back through the snow to reach a house you don't hate, exactly, where you'll inevitably find the baby has already fallen asleep and you've missed another day.

I honestly don't mean to sound self pitying here. I realize that in reality I've got it pretty great. But my child, whom I love with everything in me, has not stopped yelling and/or screaming all day. Combine that with trying to get some work done, and people from work calling approximately 42 times, and it's a recipe for disaster. It's hard to process what your coworkers are saying when your 11 month old is screaming so loudly you can't hear them. Days like this, it all just snowballs and overwhelms me. And I feel like such a whiny baby and such a failure. I mean, there are MILLIONS of working mothers out there. Millions of women make this work. I know they do. Why am I having such a hard time with it? Why can't I just SNAP OUT OF IT already?! I feel defective, for Christ's sake.

AH. Thank you. Venting is such sweet catharsis. I needed to get that off my chest. Back to work with me.

Oral Hygiene Is Very Important, Y'all.

I like to brush my teeth. You know. It's important. Healthy teeth and gums and all. No big deal. Just brushin' my teeth.

Take a Hike, Negative Nelly!

Earlier today, I got into a nice, little negative funk. I wrote an accordingly negative blog post. Had it all queued up to post. And then I thought, "Whoa. Let's back up a second, and get into a better head space." I am really trying not to put too much negative stuff "out there" so to speak. Instead, what I'm going to put out there is that I have faith that the things in my life that are difficult and that are causing me unhappiness are coming to an end. I know that things will resolve themselves. I know that I will figure out what needs figuring out. I will find my way into a better living situation and working situation, and I'll find a way to be able to spend more time with B (and E, for that matter), and to do something for a living that I truly love and believe in. I know it'll happen. I know that the difficult stuff the past few months has been part of an important learning time for me. It's hard to see the lessons as we're going through them, but that's the whole point of going through them, right? So, I am putting out there that I truly want to find solutions to this stuff. There, I said it. :)

Life Really Is Short

Tonight, I feel sad for a family I don't actually know. I've heard a lot about them, but I've never had the chance to meet them. But on Friday, they lost their mother. She was 34. Just two years older than I am. Now, a young father and his little boy are on their own, without mommy. And of course, as a mother myself, all I can think of is what if it were my little boy who was feeling devastated at the loss of his mother? And it breaks my heart. It absolutely breaks my heart.

It is very difficult to find anything positive in a situation like this. Very difficult. But I think we have to try, don't we? Otherwise, what's the point? The only positive I think I can find is that things like this are reminders that life really is short. And it really is precious. And it really is so important to be thankful for every, single day with the people we love. I am thankful every day that I come home to my little boy, but I have been especially thankful the past few days. Because every day that I don't have to tell him goodbye really is such a gift.

And Now, the Offiicial Happy Birthday Message!

Happy Birthay, Miss R.A.H.! I cannot believe you are seven years old. You are growing up so fast. We are so proud of you and so proud to be your aunt, uncle and cousin. WE LOVE YOU BUNCHES!!!! XOXOXOXOXO

Seven Years

Seven years ago today, I hadn't met my niece yet. I knew she was coming, but I didn't know when it would be. And then, some evil, evil men flew some planes into some buildings in NYC and DC, and my sister couldn't get in touch with her husband (who was in DC) or her brother (who watched the second plane hit a building half a block from him out a window) for a healthy chunk of time, and...she went into labor. And on September 12, 2001, her daughter was born. Her husband managed to race home from DC to Atlanta just in the nick of time.

Everyone has stories from that day. Luckily for me, mine has a happy ending. I ended up with an amazing little girl as a niece - a brilliant, beautiful little girl who is among the lights of my life. And MY brother, although he must've suffered incredible emotional trauma, came through just fine.

There was a time when I couldn't imagine not thinking of it constantly. Seven years is long enough that my memory isn't as sharp. But there are still reminders. There are still triggers that bring it back. I'll hear a woman on the red line with a British accent, and I'm right bak to that day, when the kindly, elderly British lady held my hand and listened to me babble about my big brother and how worried I was for him. I'll see that sort of crisp blue sky that you really only see in September, and I'll remember that on that day, the sky was the most brilliant, clear blue I ever remember seeing. And of course, seeing something filmed in New York before 2001 brings it home because inevitably, the towers will make an appearance at some point.

I read today that Americans have the lowest level of fear of terrorism that they've had since September 11th. And that brings MY fear right back. I think a little fear is probably healthy, all things considered. If it helps us to avoid another day like that, it's worth it.

But I'll continue to focus on the positive, like the little girl I love who turns seven tomorrow.

Motivation

I am feeling profoundly unmotivated. I have so much I need to do for work, and I just cannot gear up to do it. I had a doctor's appointment today and ended up missing out on a big chunk of my work day. And I was already behind, so now I'm even more behind. Yet, here I am writing a blog entry, instead of working. Based on my last entry, this one probably isn't so surprising, but it's still frustrating. Blah. Gotta get back into my positive mind set.

Why?

Why is it that you can spend a whole day being completely exhausted and just wishing for bed time, and then when it's finally time to sleep, you're suddenly wide awake, and every single thing that's weighing on your mind comes to you in a flash, keeping you from being able to even relax, let alone drift off...? What IS that? I get so frustrated, because it makes me feel mentally weak that I can't seem to banish the thoughts and just make myself go to sleep.

While we're on the topic of feeling weak, let's talk about my job. I'm not happy in my job, which I think I've alluded to before. I'm in a group that seems to be fundamentally broken. And I'm at a point where I'm tired of trying to fix things. Frankly, no one wants me to. So, I've pretty much come to the conclusion that it's time to move on. My husband and I have talked it to death, and we've decided it's time for me to quit. Maybe spend some time not working full time, since even when I'm working full time, fully half of my pay goes to daycare anyway. But, we're also trying to move, and it'll be harder to afford to move if I'm not working. So, I feel like a failure in a way, that I can't seem to just suck it up and deal with the job. I wish I could explain it. It's just that, I feel like there is such a more important job in my life now, and this other one with all its encumbent nonsense is taking too much time and focus away from my real job, of being B's mother.