This time of year always makes me nostalgic. As I said in a previous post, a lot of the best times of my live have been at this time of year.
Four years ago on Halloween, E and I decided to get back together, and it ended up being for good. When I look back on October of 2004, I remember the Red Sox and their improbable march to the first world championship in 86 years, and I remember E and I dancing around whether or not to get back together. I think, on a higher level, I knew it would be for good, and I think to some extent that was why I resisted it for a few weeks. I wanted to be absolutely certain, and because we'd both had some missteps before, I wanted to think it through. Which I did, obviously.
Ten years ago, I was in Atlanta, in my first job out of college. The fall of 1998 was one of the most fun times I ever had. That job was kind of ideal for a first one out of school, because we lived on the school's campus, so really, in a lot of ways, it was like still being in school. The people I worked with were so much fun. I was in the best shape I'd ever been in and as a result, had more confidence than I ever had.
And of course, one year ago, my son was born. The first month of motherhood is extremely intense. No shock there. It's a time when your hormones are nuts, and when you're a first time mother, you're still getting your footing, in terms of feeling like you know what you're doing. But it's also intense in terms of feeling a depth of love you probably didn't even know you were capable of, not fully, until you felt it.
Falling in love, whether it's romantic love, or love of a new place and life, or love of your child, is a magical thing. So, I guess it's no wonder that this time of year is my favorite.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Happy Birthday, Little Man
Just a quick post tonight. Today was my son's first birthday. We had a little birthday party for him, and he had an absolute blast. I can't believe he's a year old. So, I just want to say to my little man, thanks for making this past year so amazing. I love you more than I ever even imagined I would. You make me so happy and proud every day.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
October, Baby, October
This week is kind of a weird week. Yesterday was my eighth anniversary with my company, and tomorrow is B's first birthday. It's the kind of week that kind of makes you take stock and look back.
2000 was kind of a rough year. I moved back from Atlanta to Boston by way of New York. I was kind of a transient for a while, working temporary gigs in New York and living with my brother and his then wife, and staying with my parents while interviewing in Boston. I wanted so badly to live in New York permanently. But it wasn't in the cards. I went on so many interviews in New York that I'm sure there are some I don't even remember. But the hiring processes at those companies were painfully slow, and as the economy started to slow down in 2000, some of the positions were yanked just as they were about to make me offers.
Then, I came back to Boston and went on a few interviews. The job I ended up taking was not a dream come true, but it was offered quickly and decisively, and at a salary that seemed like so much money then (it wasn't). So, I took it, and moved in with my parents. The remainder of that year, before I moved into Boston, was a little dreary, I'll admit. But it helped me get back on my feet financially (college and my extremely low paying first job had put me in a bit of a hole). And that year set me up for the next several, when I lived in Boston with my friends and had the time of my life.
Fast forward seven years to October of 2007. I was nine months pregnant. I remember the 24th of October last year so vividly. I wasn't due for another two weeks, but GOD was I ready to have the baby. First, as anyone who's ever been 38 weeks pregnant knows, it's...uncomfortable. Plus, I wanted to meet my baby so desperately. I didn't even know whether it was a boy or a girl...although my intuition knew all along.
On the 24th, I was hanging at my sister's house, praying for labor to come. I firmly believe that praying for labor to come is something you do out of sheer desperation. Becuase labor? Is really not something you should ever wish on yourself. Although, admittedly, the end result is SO well worth it. And after a while, the memory of how bad it really was fades a little. Of course it does. If it didn't, we'd all be only children.
At 5:45 that afternoon, as E was on his way to Game 1 of the Red Sox/Rockies World Series, my water broke. I remember being excited and terrified. I remember my niece mirroring those emotions. I think she was afraid I was going to have the baby right in their downstairs bathroom, which is where I was when my water broke. I remember my sister calling poor E, and his frantically making his way to her house while my brother gave away his precious Game 1 ticket. Someday, I'll find a way to make it up to him (although, I do think the iPhone and the HD TV were a solid start).
I remember going to the hospital with steadily intenisfying pain and wet pants (sorry, but it's true). I remember watching the beginning of Game 1 from the antenatal room, then being brought to L&D as the pain got worse. The rest of the game is a bit hazy. I remember E telling me at some point that the Sox had scored 11 runs, but that was during the time that I was waiting for my doctor to approve the epidural so I wasn't quite as enthused as I'd normally be. Apparently, my labor progressed a bit more quickly than first labors normally do, and even though I'd warned my doctor that this would be the case (my mother and sister were both also blessed with quick active labors), he wasn't entirely prepared for HOW quickly. But he finally showed up and approved the epidural order and in went the needle. Best. Needle. Ever. Do I sound like a junkie, saying that? I'm okay with it.
Then came the waiting, as Roly Poly (as we called B before he was born) got into position. This all went quickly, too, and I'll spare you the gory details, but at 3:58 a.m. on October 25th, B was born. He came out angry and cold, all curled up, and I had to lift a leg to see whether he was B or A(the first initial for our girl's name). He was beautiful. Right from the get go, he was gorgeous. I'll post a picture as proof.
The nurses had all heard the story of E's dashed Game 1, and E was still wearing his Sox jersey and hat, and my sister was wearing her Sox sweat shirt, so we'd been dubbed the Red Sox family. They made B a little "B" hat and onesie. So, right from the start, he was a Sox fan. All in all, that was quite a night.
October has always been my magic month. So many of the most wonderful of my days have been in October, so it makes perfect sense to me that B would've chosen to come a couple weeks early, just to be born in October. And tomorow, he'll be a year old. Wow.
2000 was kind of a rough year. I moved back from Atlanta to Boston by way of New York. I was kind of a transient for a while, working temporary gigs in New York and living with my brother and his then wife, and staying with my parents while interviewing in Boston. I wanted so badly to live in New York permanently. But it wasn't in the cards. I went on so many interviews in New York that I'm sure there are some I don't even remember. But the hiring processes at those companies were painfully slow, and as the economy started to slow down in 2000, some of the positions were yanked just as they were about to make me offers.
Then, I came back to Boston and went on a few interviews. The job I ended up taking was not a dream come true, but it was offered quickly and decisively, and at a salary that seemed like so much money then (it wasn't). So, I took it, and moved in with my parents. The remainder of that year, before I moved into Boston, was a little dreary, I'll admit. But it helped me get back on my feet financially (college and my extremely low paying first job had put me in a bit of a hole). And that year set me up for the next several, when I lived in Boston with my friends and had the time of my life.
Fast forward seven years to October of 2007. I was nine months pregnant. I remember the 24th of October last year so vividly. I wasn't due for another two weeks, but GOD was I ready to have the baby. First, as anyone who's ever been 38 weeks pregnant knows, it's...uncomfortable. Plus, I wanted to meet my baby so desperately. I didn't even know whether it was a boy or a girl...although my intuition knew all along.
On the 24th, I was hanging at my sister's house, praying for labor to come. I firmly believe that praying for labor to come is something you do out of sheer desperation. Becuase labor? Is really not something you should ever wish on yourself. Although, admittedly, the end result is SO well worth it. And after a while, the memory of how bad it really was fades a little. Of course it does. If it didn't, we'd all be only children.
At 5:45 that afternoon, as E was on his way to Game 1 of the Red Sox/Rockies World Series, my water broke. I remember being excited and terrified. I remember my niece mirroring those emotions. I think she was afraid I was going to have the baby right in their downstairs bathroom, which is where I was when my water broke. I remember my sister calling poor E, and his frantically making his way to her house while my brother gave away his precious Game 1 ticket. Someday, I'll find a way to make it up to him (although, I do think the iPhone and the HD TV were a solid start).
I remember going to the hospital with steadily intenisfying pain and wet pants (sorry, but it's true). I remember watching the beginning of Game 1 from the antenatal room, then being brought to L&D as the pain got worse. The rest of the game is a bit hazy. I remember E telling me at some point that the Sox had scored 11 runs, but that was during the time that I was waiting for my doctor to approve the epidural so I wasn't quite as enthused as I'd normally be. Apparently, my labor progressed a bit more quickly than first labors normally do, and even though I'd warned my doctor that this would be the case (my mother and sister were both also blessed with quick active labors), he wasn't entirely prepared for HOW quickly. But he finally showed up and approved the epidural order and in went the needle. Best. Needle. Ever. Do I sound like a junkie, saying that? I'm okay with it.
Then came the waiting, as Roly Poly (as we called B before he was born) got into position. This all went quickly, too, and I'll spare you the gory details, but at 3:58 a.m. on October 25th, B was born. He came out angry and cold, all curled up, and I had to lift a leg to see whether he was B or A(the first initial for our girl's name). He was beautiful. Right from the get go, he was gorgeous. I'll post a picture as proof.
The nurses had all heard the story of E's dashed Game 1, and E was still wearing his Sox jersey and hat, and my sister was wearing her Sox sweat shirt, so we'd been dubbed the Red Sox family. They made B a little "B" hat and onesie. So, right from the start, he was a Sox fan. All in all, that was quite a night.
October has always been my magic month. So many of the most wonderful of my days have been in October, so it makes perfect sense to me that B would've chosen to come a couple weeks early, just to be born in October. And tomorow, he'll be a year old. Wow.
Monday, October 20, 2008
What Dreams May Come
Last night, I had one of those nightmares that seems to last all night and is so vivid that you wake up exhausted and terrified. I've had a pretty similar dream a few other times in my life, and each time the effects of it seem to linger, at least through the day. All day, I felt anxious and a little frightened. So, when I got the call that B was being sent home from daycare, it was even more distressing than usual, just because of the mood I was already in.
I know that stress causes nightmares. I've also read about the role our psyches play, as well as the possibility of past life regression through dreams (hey, who knows?). Suffice to say, I don't know all the causes for what we dream. And I think it's probably best not to read too much into it, because it can really freak you out.
I know that stress causes nightmares. I've also read about the role our psyches play, as well as the possibility of past life regression through dreams (hey, who knows?). Suffice to say, I don't know all the causes for what we dream. And I think it's probably best not to read too much into it, because it can really freak you out.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Lessons to Share
I think part of being married is that you sometimes share your lessons. We're going through that right now. E is waiting for some news. So, it's mainly his lesson, whatever the lesson may be. But there's a lesson in it for me, too, in that I'm incredibly impatient about getting the news. I know it's going to be good news. I just want it to come yesterday. But the timing of it is out of my hands, which is difficult for the part of my personality that inherited my mother's control freak tendencies. (Why couldn't I have inherited the control freak tendencies about, like, cleaning, instead of about things I CAN'T control?!) It's so hard for me to toss out there what I want and trust that it will turn out the way I want. I am not sure why that is, but I've always struggled with it. I've gotten better at it as I've gotten older. It probably helped that I wrote a journal entry once describing exactly the man I wanted, and literally a week later, E showed up. And then I dreamed about what engagement, my wedding, having a baby, etc. would all be like, and my dreams about those things all came true. So, I'm learning that faith/trust thing. So, now I just need to trust that E is going to get the news we want him to get. There is not a reason in the world he wouldn't. So, consider this my putting it out there. I trust that we will get good news tomorrow.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Turning the Corner
I had another dark patch this week. I'm beginning to see a pretty clear pattern in terms of when these happen in my hormonal cycle, which is helpful in a way, even if it doesn't completely stop it from happening. At least I can approach my doctor with this theory as a starting point, though. And I'm through it now, which is a huge relief.
Even though there have been a lot of elements of my life recently that have been difficult, I am so blessed in so many ways, and when I go through dark moments, that is what keeps me going. I am married to a kind, loving, brilliant man, who would go to great lengths to make me smile. I have a beautiful, happy, healthy son with the most infectious laugh I've ever heard. I have a family who loves us and supports us in any way they can. I have friends who have been with me through thick and thin, and who offer me encouragement in a million ways both verbal and non-verbal. And as much as I complain about my job and Eric's in this space, the fact is, we both have jobs. Good jobs. Jobs that I truly believe we will leave on our own terms, when the time comes. (Leave aside for now that I think the time is coming soon.)
My mother is a big believer in counting your blessings. It's something I picked up from her. This is a good thing, since I also picked up her hyperworrisome anxiety. But looking at your life and remembering all the ways you are blessed is both a restorative and a grounding activity. When you get too into your own head or your own troubles, just stepping back and reminding yourself of the ways you are fortunate can do wonders. I'm not writing this to go all Gwyneth on your asses. I do not believe myself qualified to teach anybody else how to live. This is as much a reminder for me as anything. Because I DO get too into my own head. And, to borrow from Jai Pausch (a woman who has seen MUCH more difficult days than I) in an interview I saw with her, "It's not helpful."
Even though there have been a lot of elements of my life recently that have been difficult, I am so blessed in so many ways, and when I go through dark moments, that is what keeps me going. I am married to a kind, loving, brilliant man, who would go to great lengths to make me smile. I have a beautiful, happy, healthy son with the most infectious laugh I've ever heard. I have a family who loves us and supports us in any way they can. I have friends who have been with me through thick and thin, and who offer me encouragement in a million ways both verbal and non-verbal. And as much as I complain about my job and Eric's in this space, the fact is, we both have jobs. Good jobs. Jobs that I truly believe we will leave on our own terms, when the time comes. (Leave aside for now that I think the time is coming soon.)
My mother is a big believer in counting your blessings. It's something I picked up from her. This is a good thing, since I also picked up her hyperworrisome anxiety. But looking at your life and remembering all the ways you are blessed is both a restorative and a grounding activity. When you get too into your own head or your own troubles, just stepping back and reminding yourself of the ways you are fortunate can do wonders. I'm not writing this to go all Gwyneth on your asses. I do not believe myself qualified to teach anybody else how to live. This is as much a reminder for me as anything. Because I DO get too into my own head. And, to borrow from Jai Pausch (a woman who has seen MUCH more difficult days than I) in an interview I saw with her, "It's not helpful."
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Scary Times
So, you know, the market tanked today. AGAIN. And some more. Now, I'm watching the presidential debate. The two candidates seem well-intentioned enough. But let's be honest here. Neither of them is really being effected by this economic situation. And neither of them truly understands it, either.
I'm not voting based on economics. I AM hoping that whoever is elected will help to fix this mess. And I AM hoping that someday I have enough money that economics drives my vote. But I don't yet. I vote on my beliefs. And a lot of those are socially based. And THAT is why I will vote Democrat. Because, even more than McCain, Sarah Palin frightens me. She frightens me in her inability to answer simple questions asked by journalists who are internationally renowned for being softball interviewers, sure. But more than that, MUCH more than that, she scares me in her complete disregard for reality and common sense. Creationism? No abortions, even in the case of rape or incest? No funding for rape treatments at hospitals? No sex education beyond abstinence only programs (which her own family proves to be ineffective)? Marriage is okay for 17 year olds who don't want to marry each other, but not for people who were born homosexual? I just...no. Go away, lady. Go away, fast.
As a woman, the very thought that her presence on a ticket would persuade me to vote for that ticket is highly, highly offensive. If McCain had chosen someone like Joe Lieberman as a running mate, I would've considered voting for him. But with this wing nut? Not even a shadow of a chance.
I'm not voting based on economics. I AM hoping that whoever is elected will help to fix this mess. And I AM hoping that someday I have enough money that economics drives my vote. But I don't yet. I vote on my beliefs. And a lot of those are socially based. And THAT is why I will vote Democrat. Because, even more than McCain, Sarah Palin frightens me. She frightens me in her inability to answer simple questions asked by journalists who are internationally renowned for being softball interviewers, sure. But more than that, MUCH more than that, she scares me in her complete disregard for reality and common sense. Creationism? No abortions, even in the case of rape or incest? No funding for rape treatments at hospitals? No sex education beyond abstinence only programs (which her own family proves to be ineffective)? Marriage is okay for 17 year olds who don't want to marry each other, but not for people who were born homosexual? I just...no. Go away, lady. Go away, fast.
As a woman, the very thought that her presence on a ticket would persuade me to vote for that ticket is highly, highly offensive. If McCain had chosen someone like Joe Lieberman as a running mate, I would've considered voting for him. But with this wing nut? Not even a shadow of a chance.
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