Rough Patch

My three year old and I are going through a rough patch. It's not the first time. Occasionally, he's gone through what I call the "I hate Mommy" phase. This particular one is really bad. Yesterday, while running errands, he got angry with me because we were picking up Daddy's Christmas gift (and none for B) and he told me he loves Daddy more. When I asked why, he said it was because I'm a bad Mommy. For the record, I'm not.

Luckily, we were going to see Santa today, and I was able to use that as leverage, telling him that Santa loves me very much (as most of y'all know, Santa is my Dad), and that if I were to tell Santa he'd said that, it would not go well for him. I also asked him how he would feel if I told him I loved Daddy more than I loved him. He admitted this would make him very sad, and I told him it makes me very sad when he says it, too. Both of these points seemed to hit home pretty well. He was very apologetic and insisted that he does, in fact, love me very much. (Which, of course he does. He is an only child with a stay at home mom...I'm pretty much his world, a lot of the time.)

But it doesn't change the overall pattern, which is that he's in kind of a nasty phase with me, and as much as I realize one shouldn't take such things personally coming from a three year old, it's really hurtful...in addition to just being unacceptable behavior which, from a Mom's perspective, is never ok anyway.

So, sigh. I just hope it's over soon.

Speaking of Uncanny Memories...

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, and of course my constant companion was with me. When we pulled into the parking lot, he said, "No crying, Mommy." And I told him, "No, I won't cry." He followed up with, "You cried last time, when Daddy was here." (He was referring to the day of the ultra-sound that revealed the miscarriage.) And I said, "Yes, I did." He said, "That scared me." And I said, "I know it did, and I'm so sorry." He said, "That's ok. You were sad. But! No crying today!" So I agreed I wouldn't cry. Which I didn't.

He is so much like me, this way. He takes in and remembers everything. Which, of course, is a huge part of the reason I am so racked with guilt, still, that he was there for that. Of course we couldn't have known. But I should have. I should have been more insistent, but I was so scared and tired I wasn't thinking straight. So, I guess the best I can say is...lesson learned.

December 8, 1980

I remember that day. I have kind of an uncanny memory - I remember things from when I was quite young, which people always seem surprised to hear, but which is true. On December 8, 1980, I was four. I remember the news, the people gathered in Central Park, crying. I remember my mom being really sad, too. I remember asking her, "Why are those people crying?" And I remember her responding sadly, "Because they loved him," And then I remember asking, "Why?" And her responding, still sadly, "Because he was very special." And that always stuck with me. My brother lived in the building next to the Dakota for a couple of years, and I never visited him without thinking of it. I never passed Strawberry Fields without remembering the crying people gathered there.

I could go on a rant about how celebrities now are devoid of substance as compared with John Lennon. But I choose to believe that's not true. Sure, there are vapid idiots out there, and sure we're all idiots too for obsessing about them. But before John Lennon emerged from Liverpool, who could ever have guessed the impact he would have? Therefore, isn't it possible that the next great artistic genius is just around the corner? I like to think it is. I like to hope so.

You Are My Sunshine

My son just started singing this one day. I used to sing it to him when he was a baby, particularly when we were going his nebulizer treatments. But I wouldn't have expected him to remember the lyrics. As far as I know, he didn't sing it at daycare. I'm really, genuinely not sure how he learned it well enough to sing on his own, but he did. That's all I'm sayin'.

Goodnight, Buck. I love you and I miss you every day, even 11 years later.

Year By Year

Every year, I feel luckier and luckier to have my husband. The past four years have been by far the best and fastest of my life. With each passing year, my husband continues to amaze me with his generosity, his kindness and his unfailing love and support. He is an amazing father. He is probably the best person I know.

I am so grateful to have him in my life, and for the four years of marriage we have under our belts, as well as the years we have ahead.

Big Sky

My parents have had the same best friends since I was about three. Over the years, they've become more like an aunt and an uncle - in fact, that's what I call them - and their kids are my cousins. My uncle's parents were like another set of grandparents to me, growing up.

When I was six, I went on vacation with their family and my uncle's parents. During the trip, I called a summit with the grandparents. I sat across the dinner table from them and very solemnly asked them if they would mind if I called them their "grandparent" names - Mimi and Papa. They graciously accepted.

Mimi passed away in 2004, and Papa passed away overnight last night. Much like my grandparents whom I've mentioned here many times, they had a great love story. As such, Papa was never really the same after he lost Mimi, so as sad as I am to have officially said goodbye to a man I adored, I'm glad he is reunited with his great love. The title of the post is a nod to the fact that they grew up in Montana, so my aunt said this morning that Papa had returned to Big Sky Country.

It felt only right to pay a small tribute to my "other grandparents" here. They had one of the most unfailingly welcoming homes I ever had the privilege of visiting, and I will never forget that.

The Struggle

I had a really bad weekend. Not in terms of events, mind you, just in terms of my own state of mind. I don't know what the eff was going on with me, but I was an emotional mess. I felt like crying pretty much all weekend, and frequently did actually break down. Most notably last night, laying in bed next to a beleaguered and injured (pinched nerve in the neck) E, who was, as ever, supportive and patient and loving.

What was going on? I'm not really sure. Normally, when it gets this bad, it's hormone-related, but I can't really see where that would be the case, based on dates. Or, it could be thyroid related, but there again, I can't see how it would be, since I don't have any other symptoms.

More likely, it's a combination of things. 1) I am putting way too much pressure on myself to get back on the baby wagon. Shocking, I know. 2) I need to get my fat as* to a gym and get back in shape. 3) E was out of commission most of the weekend, which is only relevant b/c to a stay at home Mom, having no hubby support on a weekend is the equivalent of someone who works outside the home working all weekend, 4) The weather was crappy and B had a difficult time with that, 5) I've had a couple of really productive therapy sessions the past few weeks, and while the overall outcome of that is positive, I think I'm probably dealing with some "stuff" all that talk has brought to the surface.

So, what do I do? I don't know. I mean...other than the getting my as* to a gym part. I guess all I can do is continue to be enormously grateful for my amazing husband and unusually sensitive son. Which I am. Day in and day out. Even if I don't always show it because I'm too wrapped up in my own drama and am busy being a big baby.

Happy Halloween!

My little fireman.

Bittersweet

Soon after my miscarriage, a friend of mine who'd been through it warned me that one of the big stings would come when friends of mine announced (in person, on email, on Facebook, what have you) their pregnancies, with due dates close to mine. So, I was prepared for this event. And it's really important to note that I am SUPER happy and excited for all the expectant ladies I know. I do not begrudge anyone this joy. It's way too happy a thing for that. But there is definitely a bittersweet feeling to it, in that it makes me go, "Aw, man! I really, really wish I were still pregnant, so my baby would have so many awesome playmates!" Not that my baby won't, when I do get pregnant again - my sister was five months pregnant with my niece when I got pregnant with B. Logically, I get that. But MAN, I wish that pregnancy hadn't had to end so soon. But hey, I still believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe I'm just meant to have yet another Leo or Virgo (for example) in my life, as opposed to the Aries that baby would've been. Who knows...

Disillusioned

When I was younger and had a big ole political fire in my belly, I would go to Youth Vote rallies and do my best to be as involved as I could be in the political system. In 2004, I volunteered for John Kerry's campaign...admittedly, not because I was particularly enamored of him as a candidate, but because a) I was eager to get W out of office and b) the guy lived three blocks from me - proximity rules, you know?

And I would think about how people talk about getting into their thirties and forties and feeling politically disillusioned. I remember this being the reason behind low voter turnouts years back. And I couldn't imagine ever feeling that way.

And now, here I am, feeling so detached politically. I mean, I will still vote. It's too important not to. But I have to admit, there really isn't a candidate I'm all that jazzed about. The two major parties seem to be veering further away from center, and any third party candidates don't have a realistic shot at winning, so it's a little disheartening to consider casting a vote for them.

My main issues are as follows. The Democrats just aren't thinking rationally about the country's economic situation. They want to blame people like my family and former coworkers for the mess, and that's both irresponsible and unrealistic. They also don't have a clue about how to FIX the mess we're in.

Meanwhile, the GOP might have some better ideas economically, but their indulgence in their party's wingnuts is legitimately frightening. People who are so afraid of homosexuality in the abstract that they would disallow loving families from EXISTING? Terrifying.

So, what do I do? Who do I vote for? Well, for now, the civil rights issues win out for me because my conscience insists upon it. But the economic future scares the shit out of me.

New Artist to Check Out

Check out the debut album from Hudson Moore. Good stuff. (I do not get kickbacks for posting this. Just looking to help out a talented youngster.)

http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/fireworks/id400329081

Happy Birthday, B.!

B's third birthday was a good one, I think. We had a party on Saturday, attended by our families, including a surprise (to B) cameo by his cousin, Little E, who came down from VT. B had a fantastic time. And then tonight, we went out for a family dinner, and he was thrilled when they brought him a Hoodsie with a candle in it. To top off his day, he skyped with his NYC cousins. Good times.

My little boy is getting so big, so fast.

My Baby

My baby really isn't a baby anymore. Tomorrow (at 3:58 AM to be precise), he'll be three years old. The past three years have gone by in a blink. A blink so loaded with love it still steals my breath sometimes.

Before B, I thought love was only accompanied by an ache if it was going wrong. But with B, I've learned that's not always true. The love of a parent for her/his child is an aching, desperate, beautiful thing. The thought of his smile can make me smile. The thought of his crying can bring me to tears. I would, as the saying goes, lay down in traffic for him. Sometimes, I can be completely content just to watch him sleeping. Or playing. Or thinking. His expressions of love are like a magical elixir for whatever ails me.

I had a life full of love and blessings before he came along, but I couldn't have imagined the love and blessings I would gain because he did.

Grateful

Back before I met E, I remember one of my friends asking me if I thought meeting the right guy would truly make me happier than I "naturally was." And I told her that, yes, I did, since the only thing in my life I truly wasn't happy about was all the douchebags that littered my lovelife. She was skeptical. But the thing is, I was right. I am happier with E in my life.

I love, more than I can really express adequately here, how, when I wrestle with a problem for days - agonize over discussing it with him because he might think I'm an idiot, or a spoiled princess, or what have you - then he can listen to me for five minutes and offer me the input and support I've been craving all along, and suddenly this enormous catastrophe seems so easily resolved.

He's my Knight. C'est tout.

The Best Thing

One of the best things about life is also one of the scariest things. Unpredictability. We can't predict the future. But doesn't that also mean we're not tied to any specific future? See? Awesome and scary.

I used to visit psychics a lot. There was one in particular I used to see in college. I loved going to her, because she would talk about my future in such wonderful terms. I'm a hopeless romantic and was hopeless romantically in college, so her descriptions of the great love I would find in the future were enormously appealing. She got a pretty major detail wrong, which doesn't matter at all now, although it fed my romantic fantasies in unrealistic ways for many years. But then again, that fantasy person got me through a lot of rough times, so I guess that served its purpose.

But the love I found is so different in so many ways from what she or any psychic ever described. And it's still as amazing as I could've dreamed.

All this by way of saying I wasn't locked into that future she saw. Nor am I locked into ANY future. The possibilities are endless. Just because I or someone else foresaw some specific thing for me doesn't mean that specific thing HAS to happen. I can decide on a future for myself and make it happen, and that's as freeing as it is terrifying.

And so, just because to this point, I haven't fully been able to foresee the future I want professionally, that doesn't mean it can't happen. It just means I need to visualize what I want and go after it with everything I've got.

Two Steps Up, One Step Back

A couple of weeks ago, I compared a miscarriage to having your heart broken, and the parallels live on, for me.

What I remember most from my period of heartbreak, lo those many years ago, was that I would be fine for days, or even weeks, and then...something would trigger my memory in an especially vivid way, and WHAM - I would spend a day near tears. It was like a gut punch when it happened. In fact, there is a certain song that, to this day, when I hear it, it knocks the wind out for a second. This, despite knowing my life has taken such a better path than it would've if that relationship had worked out. Even though I love my husband and son more than I ever even knew I could love something - that song can bring me back to that night over a decade ago, just for a second. Memory is powerful.

That's kind of where I'm at today. I've spent the past two days (B has been out of the house) spending some 1:1 time with my pig sty of a home. As such, I've come across a couple things I'd tucked away in corners after the miscarriage - my binder of info from my OB's office, the Bella band I bought two days before I found out I wouldn't be needing it...stuff like that. And it makes me sad again.

It's very much like healing from heart break, really, in that just like back then, I know now that I'm ok. That this happened for a reason. That life will go on and be happy. That I will feel better again, just like I have started to. But just in that moment - WHAM. Sad.

I know that having my heart broken made me a better person. It made me stronger. It made me aware of what I wanted, and what I would not settle for...or at least, it started that process. And I know the same is true of this experience. It's making me stronger. It's making me a better wife and mother. I know it is. Personal growth aches, though, doesn't it?

Explanations

"Well, we can't say for sure that this caused the miscarriage...but it didn't help."

That's what my endocrinologist said yesterday about the timing of the previously mentioned thyroid relapse diagnosis and subsequent (by literally one day) pregnancy. Explanations are supposed to provide closure, right? This one didn't. It felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. I've spent so many years worrying that my thyroid disease would prevent me from having healthy pregnancies, and finally, it prevented one. Maybe. Probably.

Overall, I'm doing well moving on from this. It happens. It's happened to more people I know than not, in fact. So, I don't think this news really sent me into a tailspin or anything. It is what it is.

Plus, the other night, I had a dream about my grandfather. It'd been a really long time since I'd had one, but the other night in my dream, he was smiling and he hugged me and rubbed my head the way he used to, and he told me everything was all right. And I believed him. Because from him, "Everything's all right," is all the explanation I ever need.

The Corner

First of all, a happy 9th birthday to my oldest niece.

I think I've started to turn the corner this weekend. I think. I'm sure there will be rough days ahead, but this weekend, for the first time in a few weeks, I haven't had a lump in my throat constantly, and I've actually felt like doing something, anything, other than sitting on the sofa or drinking wine. So, progress. YAY!

Memory

This morning, I spent a few minutes in silence, looking out my kitchen window at the gorgeous, sunny blue sky of an early September day and I felt especially grateful that my big brother the New Yorker is around to offer me the love and support he has in the past week.

Not all little sisters of New Yorkers (or DCers...etc) are so lucky. So, today, I send all the love I can to all the people who still mourn, nine years later.

Lucky Star

So, yea, yesterday...wasn't a great day. I was feeling pretty down, and it was that kind of steely grey, occasionally rainy day that tends to push me right over the edge if I'm on it.

But then, last night, B had a bad dream and called me into his room. I lay down with him, and he put his hand on my cheek and said, "I love you always, Mommy." And some little piece of me fell back into place.

This morning, we woke up to a sunny morning. We were both overtired, but we decided to head over to visit E at work for a walk and some lunch. We enjoyed a sunny, breezy stroll around E's work campus and then headed to a nearby restaurant for a little family lunch. It's continually amazing to me how a little time in the sunshine with my two boys can turn my world around, even if just temporarily.

How do I know that E is absolutely, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the right person for me? His presence can bring me a sense of calm in a way no one else's can. Just being around him can make me feel better. Without actually touching me, it's like he is hugging me and telling me it'll all be ok.

So, yesterday was a tough day. Today is better.

In Between

The hardest part of going through something difficult is the in between. The time in between the first rush of grief and the recovery. The gap in between what you should feel and what you do feel. The to do's in between what you get done and what you feel like you should be getting done.

I'm generally a pretty upbeat person. I'm not sure whether that always comes across in the blog, because writing is how I process, so sometimes what I'm processing is the not so great stuff, but really, I'm a very grateful person, and I pride myself on offering positivity to those around me. But I do also occasionally struggle with depression. I guess that sounds like a contradiction, but I think the reason I'm so in tune to my times of depression is that it's such an uncomfortable fit, if that makes sense. I also have very little patience for myself, and my own depressive feelings. So, being in the in between right now is killin' me. I know that I went through something that sucks. I know it's okay to feel sad about that. I want to feel better, overall. I want to get back to my life. But I'm just not there yet, and it's driving me nuts.

Part of what's happening, too, I THINK (I'm...not actually a doctor or a mental health professional) is that...I was kind of feeling a little "off" and "down" before the pregnancy, and then during the pregnancy, some of that kind of eased, because I had something positive to focus on, rather than dealing with what was feeling off. Plus, who knows, maybe the pregnancy leveled whatever hormonal or chemical "stuff" is off inside. It's possible. I guess a lot of things are.

But what I know is that I am mentally ready to start feeling normal again, but I feel like there's something inside holding me back. Like...I WANT to get my ass back to work, but in the moment, it's like MONUMENTALLY difficult to focus and motivate. I WANT to get back into an exercise routine, but again, I CANNOT make myself do it. I know there are people in my life who would tell me just to suck it up and do it. And that's the most maddening part - normally, I would be one of them. I am definitely of the "no one can change your life except you," school. And yet...

I don't know. This is just kind of brain-dump rambling, but like I said, writing is how I process, so I'm kind of hoping if I write this stuff out, at some point, it'll help me come to some clarity. In the meantime, I'm going to write here, and I'm going to write in my gratitude journal and I'm going to fake it till I make it. Because make no mistake. Sad Sack Lindsay will NOT be tolerated, long term. Bitch makes me crazy.

Musings...

Let me start off by saying that I have absolutely no illusions that a miscarriage is the worst thing a person can go through, or even anywhere close to that.

That said, I want to say what it is like, for me, at least.

It's like having your heart broken, is the closest thing I can think of. I don't mean a run of the mill break up. I'm talking about that break up most of us go through once in life, when it's that person you think might be the person you'll end up with, and then they pull the rug out from under you and tell you that, in fact, that won't be happening. And you're just sad. Really sad. And then for a long time after that, every morning when you wake up, you remember all over again that your heart is broken. And there are times throughout the day that something will come to mind that you want to tell that other person - some inside joke or little story about your day you know they'd love, and you have to remind yourself they're gone.

That's what it's like. I wake up in the morning and realize all over again what happened. Every time I go to eat, I think, "Can I eat this?" And then I remember it doesn't matter anymore. And all the plans I'd started to make break my heart all over again.

But at the same time, this really sad, disappointing experience has made me feel so blessed. I'm blessed with a husband who loves me and truly wants to make me happy. I'm blessed with a beautiful son, who, if he ends up being the only child I ever have, makes me the luckiest mommy I could be. I am blessed with a family who is supportive and spent the weekend pampering and spoiling me (and looking the other way at my hormone-addled crying jags). I am blessed with a group of friends who have checked in with me and offered support in myriad ways. There is so much love surrounding me. It gives me hope.

And, as it's Labor Day, summer is unofficially over. And as sad as I am about that, because I LOVE summer, and have LOVED this summer with my little man, I also LOVE autumn, and as I have written about before, autumn is my time of magic. Wonderful things have come into my life in the autumn, and I know that will happen again this year.

Where I've Been

Clearly, I haven't been posting much this summer. This was due in part to my internal debate over when to reveal the big development in my life, which is that I was pregnant. Yes, that's past tense. Was. I think the reason I never posted about being pregnant was that I never fully relaxed into being pregnant, because there was a small part of my subconscious that knew it wasn't going to make it all the way through. There was just a different feeling to this pregnancy from the get-go than with B. With B, I knew the moment I conceived and I could FEEL that he was a tenacious little presence who would not be denied. I was violently ill from week 8 to week 14. This time, it took forever for me to even know I was pregnant, and then once I was, aside from the occasional strong craving for red meat, the symptoms were just not as intense. I had a few waves of nausea here and there, and a few bouts of dizziness and all, but I was 9 1/2 weeks along and hadn't yet experienced that all day naush fest, so I thin I knew something was off.

This entire experience, for those of you not lucky enough to have experienced it, sucks beyond words. It's really pretty painful, first off. And obviously, it's...really sad. For me. For E. For B. For the rest of our family and the friends we'd told. Just a bummer of huge proportions.

I also feel really conflicted because as I've documented here, my pregnancy with B came as such a SHOCK. It took me a really long time to feel excited because I felt so truly shocked and freaked out. This time, I was so excited. My best friend and my cousin are both expecting and are due within a short time of when I was. I was so PSYCHED about that. And I felt so much more ready this time around. I mean...we were actually trying for one thing. And none of this is to say I feel anything but the most pure love for B. He was the best surprise of my life, by a long shot. I cannot imagine an existence in which he didn't come along.

I know that everything happens for a reason. So, I trust that there is a reason this baby wasn't meant to stay with us. I know that. Doesn't mean I won't spend the majority of the next few days crying.

Time Warp

By now, you all know I'm a very nostalgic person. I tend to spend a lot of time in a dream world, reminiscing on the past...fantasizing about the future. And over the past week, it seems like I'm surrounded by nostalgic triggers - music and movies from my past seem to sneak up on me constantly.

Jerry Maguire is on TV right now. I cannot believe this movie is almost 14 years old. Where did those 14 years go? And the song 'Secret Garden' was EVERYWHERE in late '96 and early '97. Remember? There was even that version with the lines from the movie cut in? Ugh, was that the most insipid thing ever or WHAT?! But anyway, as with songs that are so omnipresent during a period of time, that song of course reminds me of that time...my first college apartment, my spring break trip to Cayman...

I was cleaning my kitchen this morning and listening to Dashboard (of course) and for some reason, when 'Hands Down' came on, it literally stole my breath to realize that the summer I first bought the CD A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar was SEVEN YEARS AGO. And again...where did those seven years go? It's been an unbelievably eventful seven years, and I have come to the point in my life that I hoped to when I dreamed of it seven years ago. And yet there is this little piece of me inside that is still that girl from seven years ago, still that girl from 14 years ago, who feels like I've gone through a time warp and ended up here, and I can't believe it. I don't even know if that makes any sense...but that's what it feels like.

3 AM

It's so frustrating when you're profoundly exhausted, yet can't sleep. I've fought insomnia for, at this point, a majority of my life, off and on, as has been well documented on this blog. I hate it. And to some extent, I think it's a self-fulfilling prophecy because when I awaken in the middle of the night, I often have an immediate reaction of, "Oh shit! Fall asleep before you can start thinking!" Which, of course, does nothing to help me fall back asleep.

And so often, the things that wake me up, or keep me up, during the night, are not even the things that are truly important to me, so much as they are the worry du jour. It's like I have a subconscious need for somewhere to focus stray anxiety, so I choose something going on in my life and think it to death, to the detriment of a night's (or a week's) sleep. This drives me insane (figuratively and sometimes it feels like literally). Most often, these are things not entirely within my control. These sort of nebulous stresses - things about which maybe I can do part of the resolving but not all of it, are definitely the bane of my insomniac existence. No matter how well I know I can't control a situation, I will spend those hours between 2 AM and 5 AM frantically trying to figure out a solution.

This history began for me at around 8 years old, when I would wake up in the middle of the night and panic about nuclear armageddon (or, as I likely called it then, "Global Thermonuclear War" - Thanks, War Games). I would spend hours in the middle of the night, just worrying about this happening. And actually, truth be told, that probably wasn't even truly where it began. That's just the first very clear memory of it, for me.

And since childhood, the insomnia has ebbed and flowed, and the anxiety with it. But over the past several years, since the abusive work situation I've mentioned before, it's really been ratcheted up a notch, with the full-scale panic attacks and the utter lack of confidence I have in certain areas. And that, too, is maddening, because I worked for so many years to become a confident person, and I was one, wholly, for a while there.

I realize, of course, that the things I worry so much about are not serious problems, generally. As I said, they are often not even the things that matter most to me. What matters most to me is B, and E, and the rest of my family. But rarely is it any of these things that is keeping me up nights. Why? I can't really say. And why can't I just figure out a way to leave it aside and fall asleep? Well, if I had an answer for that, I'm pretty sure I'd be happily sacked out right now.

I've Been Gone

I haven't had much to say lately, which is odd because I've had a TON on my mind. I guess maybe articulating it just hasn't happened. It's been a weird couple of weeks. Lots of really, super wonderful goings on, and yet kind of a continued malaise. Meh. Happens. Could be hormonal. Could be psychological. Who knows? Anyway...I'm sure my mind will clear at some point soon.

Help Me Fight Colon Cancer!

http://www.firstgiving.com/lindsayatherton

My Life Is Good...

It is. It's really good. I'm blessed in so many ways. And recently, several people who are really important to me have received really, incredibly good news about various things, and that brings me more joy than I can express.

I have a job I love (at last), I get to spend my days with my little man, who continually fascinates and delights me. I have a warm, loving and incredibly supportive husband who takes care of me in ways I have dreamed about my whole life.

And yet (there had to be an "and yet" didn't there?), I feel...not quite right, somehow. I'm guessing the aforementioned thyroid issue is a big contributor. But I also think there's more to it. The thing about working in a job that made me miserable was that it was a really easy thing to blame any stray misery on. "Oh, I'm unhappy because I hate my job." Now that that's no longer the case, it is becoming increasingly clear to me that...something is just a little off. So, back to the drawing board, in terms of finding the root of the issue. Wish me luck!

Not So in Tune

I have thyroid disease. I was initially diagnosed with Graves' Disease at 16. It became so erratic and hard to control with medication that my doctors decided to neutralize my thyroid using radioactive iodine when I was 20. Since then, I have been on Synthetic Thyroid of various sorts and various doses. And the pattern, historically, has been that every couple years, I would discover that my dose wasn't quite cutting it, and it'd be increased. After I had Benj, my dose didn't change, and my doctor was really surprised, because apparently, that isn't typical...although, my symptoms and experience with thyroid disease as a whole have been pretty a-typical. I went last week, and discovered that my dose is too HIGH (this is a first) and I'm actually technically hyperthyroid (which, again, I haven't been since around age 19).

As soon as I got this news from my doctor, it was like, "OF COURSE!" This explains SO, SO many of the symptoms and feelings I've been having for actually quite a while now. The anxiety, the sleep loss, the weird appetite...I could go on. And I felt like such a DOLT for not picking up on it earlier. I remember these feelings so well from my teen years, and yet I failed to connect the dots. I was so much more in tune with my body back then. Then, life happened and other things took precedence and I completely missed the red flags.

But it's a relief to have something to point at, of that much I'm certain.

Steppin' Out...of My Comfort Zone

As has been well-chronicled in this space, the past couple years have been largely about my stepping out of my comfort zone. Shaking things up. Transforming the parts of my life that weren't working for me into things that do work for me.

To that end, I'm stepping WAY, WAY out of my comfort zone this weekend. I'm traveling to my new company's annual conference. I'm rooming with my manager, who is basically a rockstar in this setting. So, in other words, I'm going alone, because let's face it - she's not going to have time to hold the hand of her shy, newish employee when a) she has like 100 direct and indirect reports going and b) again, rockstar. So, you know. I'm TERRIFIED.

I'm also really excited. EVERYONE I've spoken to who has attended this event has said it is absolutely amazing, life changing, and the like. And the thing is, the way they've described things has generally turned out to be pretty accurate. And so far, I've been really pleasantly surprised at how easy it's been to make friends in this group, so I'm kind of hoping people will be willing to chill with me.

My comfort zone would've been to say, "Oh, that event costs too much," or, "Oh, I can't leave B," or what have you, and not go. But in early May (RIGHT before the registration deadline), I decided that if I'm going to make a go of this thing, I need to be there. When I approached E about it, he agreed and encouraged me, because as you all know, he is awesome. So, I emailed my manager and found that the ONE spot left was in HER hotel room. Clearly, I was meant to go.

I remember when I went to my orientation at UMass (and I apologize if I've told part of this before...I can't remember and I can't check right now because I have about five more minutes to write before B decides it's time to put the Mac down), I sat in lunch the first day and I thought to myself, "Ok. You can be like you were in high school and be shy and not talk to anyone and be MISERABLE about it, or you can force yourself to introduce yourself and talk to people, and see if that's better." And you know what? It WAS better. By miles and miles, it was better. (I've always been a late bloomer.) So, that's my approach for this, too. I spent all those years at my old company allowing myself to feel less-than, to feel like a misfit (not that I WAS, mind you, I just FELT like one). I'm ready to find my OWN inner rockstar, dammit. I'm ready to be more, and to live up to my own professional potential. And I'm not going to let myself and my comfort zone stop me.

June

Busy month.

My youngest brother got married last Saturday. He is the only to get married since I've had this blog. My sister got married in 1995 and the other three of us all got married in 2006/07. So, this was the last hurrah in terms of sibling weddings. Plus, he's the baby. I remember SO vividly the day he came home from the hospital and I decided he was MY baby. (I remember when my other little brother was born too, but I was 2 1/2 so I didn't fully "get" it.) It seems so strange that he's old enough to get married, even though he's been my go-to drinking buddy for like a decade.

And it was a good reminder of how fast life goes by. My baby brother got married, and my baby boy was a ring bearer! He looked so grown up (I mean, for a 2 1/2 year old), and he LOVED the whole thing. He ate up the aisle experience in a way quite reminiscent of his mother on her wedding day. Ahem. Anyway.

Those are really the moments that make me so, so glad I'm home with him now - the ones that remind me how FAST it all goes by. And my mother's friends who were stay at home moms were all so excited for me, too. That was a really nice feeling.

Anyway...life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it! ;)

What're YOU lookin' at?

Good Day

Today...well, I guess it was actually yesterday now...but it was a really good day. The weather was fantastic, and I spent the day doing fun things with my two fellas. Just the kind of day I love most. We started the day at the March of Dimes March for Babies, which was great, and then hung around at home for a while (nap time for B, mainly) before heading out for an early dinner. Lovely!

I have had a tendency, times in my past, to freak out after a really good day, in a, "Oh my God, something bad is going to happen now!" kind of way. Crazy, I know. But I have. But interestingly, that seems to be one area of my lifelong battle with anxiety that seems to have improved somewhat since getting married and having B. I have gotten better at just appreciating the good days, and treasuring them and being fully present in them. What a nice feeling, since really, truly good days don't usually happen as often as we'd like them to, and really should be enjoyed when they do happen.

Bone Marrow Donation

If this were my precious boy, I would hope desperately for the kindness of strangers, so I'm passing this along. Please consider ordering a kit. It's free.

http://www.matchdevan.com/

FOX 5 Special: Unhealthy Hospitals

FOX 5 Special: Unhealthy Hospitals

This story centers around some friends of mine in Atlanta, who lost their seven week old micro-premie daughter to a MRSA infection in 2007. There is some great stuff with their two surviving daughters, and it's a great piece in terms of making people aware of this infection.

Lovin' Life...

As anyone reading this more or less knows, I suffer from anxiety. As a result, I tend to perseverate on whatever I'm attributing the anxiety to in a given moment. It's a really good time. Among the drawbacks of this is that I sometimes have a tendency to get out of the moment. And when that happens, I fail to appreciate how much I'm ENJOYING a given moment. Good example - I have been sitting here all morning, obsessing on how I can become a better mother and a better sales person at the same time...I was thinking about what B and I will do today and how I'll balance the two, and I was thinking about my days with B, in general. And suddenly, I realized how much I really LOVE my days with him. It's not that they are without their difficulties. He's two, after all. But there is just a genuine enjoyment to my days that I sometimes lose sight of, in favor of worrying. So, I just wanted to record this for future me (a la last night's episode of HIMYM). I love my new gig. There, I said it.

Wayward

I worked almost ten years in a job that I never enjoyed. I mean, I guess I shouldn't say never...there were moments I enjoyed. There were people I enjoyed. There was even a position I enjoyed. One. Out of like five. Six? Something like that. It wasn't that I actively disliked it. Well, there were two or three of the positions I had that I did actively dislike, and two managers I had whom I definitely actively disliked. But for the most part, there was a sort of resigned contentedness. I had a routine, I got a paycheck. The American Way. But as I got older, and as other parts of my life became more fulfilling, the discontent I felt professionally came into sharper and sharper contrast. I worked for this great company who lots of people would've been happy to work for, but...I wasn't one of those people. It got harder and harder to pretend I was.

When I had B, it became virtually impossible to pretend. Sure, I was in a pretty terrible position at that point, but even as it began to improve, I just could not make myself want to be there. And being someone who wants to give my all to an endeavor, I felt increasingly like I was faking it, and as a result, faking myself and the company out. It wasn't a good feeling. And I let it go on long enough that I think it's had a lasting impact on my self esteem. But that's not my point here.

My point here is that this IS the American way. We find "good" jobs with "good" companies, and we just go on autopilot and work ourselves into exhaustion in pursuit of some goal or other. And I don't mean to insult those of you who are truly happy in your professions. That's not what I'm getting at, at all. But there are so many of us who aren't...and particularly in the past couple of years, that really ceased to matter. It was like, "Well, shit. At least I HAVE a job. If they really WANT me to start sleeping at my desk and only seeing my kid for two hours a week, I'll make it work!"

And here's the thing. That DIDN'T work for me. Or my family. We made the decision together that we didn't want that life. We didn't want the life in which I routinely went at least a day a week without seeing my son. We didn't want me working myself into a panic disorder for a paycheck of which we would give fully HALF to childcare. We made a conscious decision to put our family first.

So, why do I feel like such a selfish quitter, so much of the time?

Here Comes the Sun...

How intensely can the sun impact our moods? Pretty intensely. I mean, I think at this point, most of us know this, don't we? It's been studied repeatedly. There are diagnoses such as SAD. There is statistical proof that places with more sunshine tend to be "happier" while places with less tend toward depression. None of this is breaking news. So, why do I mention it? Because I think it's interesting (to me...again with the self absorption) that this has a greater effect on me in non-winter months than it does in winter ones. Maybe it's because crap weather during the winter is to be expected? I'm not even sure. What I do know is that last summer was no summer at all, really, and my psyche suffered for it. And I know that so far this April, we've been pretty lucky. But the past couple days were dreary and WHAM! My mood followed. And today, the sun is out and guess what? I feel better. Some of that is coincidental, I'm sure, and some of it is definitely hormonal, but the weather correlation is to exact to be ignored.

Showing My Age

I was at the library (pronounced lie-bee-bee) with B the other day. We were looking at books, and there were several with check-out dates from the late 1980's. This, obviously, was when I was a kid. Suddenly, it hit me that to HIM, the 1980's will seem as long ago as the 1950's seemed to me as a kid (since my mom was roughly the same ages in the fifties that I was in the eighties). I mean...OUCH. Of course, logically, I knew this already, but sometimes when thoughts like that hit home, it just makes you go, "Whoa."

And then last night, I was watching the SNL special on NBC. And they showed lots of clips of the musical guests, of course. And seeing Dave Grohl and Billie Joe Armstrong made me think about the fact that these two guys (and so many others) were, you know, youngsters when they first came into our consciousness, and now they're...not. Let alone Bono. I mean....So, it's just another one of those things that really highlights the passage of time, you know? It just seems so strange to me that the nineties were so long ago. But they were.

Artiste, or Just Self-Absorbed Brat?

They always say that artists are more sensitive than other people right? (Who is they, though?) They say that artistic bent makes you more of an empath, more in touch with your emotions, yet less able to control them. I can say with relative comfort that I fall into this category. I'm a writer and I'm an emotional mess a lot of the time. Whatever. It is what it is, and I'm okay with who I am. Mostly. But occasionally, I'll listen to what I'm saying, or I'll listen to my thoughts, and all of a sudden, I'm like, "Shut UP, you self-absorbed douchebag! No one CARES!" When I share this emotion with my confidantes (E, RB, my sis), they invariably tell me I'm way too hard on myself and that I'm not self absorbed. E generally tells me, in fact, that I'm not self-absorbed enough. But I really don't know that that's true. I talk about myself A LOT. And I mean, yea, I'm a natural storyteller, and storytellers tell stories about what they know and I know me, so...yea. But, still. I catch myself sometimes talking to my sister on the phone and I've yakked about my own day for like 20 minutes. I mean...WTF?! But then, I do also have friends and family in my life who, when I talk to them, I do more of the listening. So, maybe it all evens out? I don't know.

Anyway, another part of this "sensitivity" and "self-absorption" question is...I'm just SO sensitive to whatever's going on in my life. I get so stressed out over stuff that other people would barely register. I turn the smallest things into HUGE catastrophic events. My mother calls me The Agony and The Ecstacy...and it's TRUE. I can't even argue.

As a result, when I read blogs, I tend to gravitate to blogs by people who are surviving ACTUAL hardship. I find them so inspiring. They're as brave and positive and full of life as I wish I were. (Or at least as I wish I were at times because I do think I can be brave and positive...sometimes.) I've linked to some of these blogs in my sidebar. Two of the blogs are by people who lost their spouses to cancer and are raising small children on their own. I don't know either of these people, yet they are both inspirations to me on a daily basis.

Transition

Change is hard. Even when it's a change you want with your whole heart, it's just hard and usually a little scary. So, this week has been one of great ups and downs for me and my little man, who are both clearly undergoing radical changes to our lives and routines.

I know with absolute certainty that I made the right choice. It was the right choice for my family and it was the right choice for me, personally and professionally, in the long-term. But of course, that doesn't mean that I am just gliding along with a smile on my face. That isn't my nature. I have a near-compulsive need to know how things will turn out. And of course in life, you usually can't know how things are going to turn out. So, times of transition are just always scary.

And then of course, it's been a big transition for B, too. He is no longer going to "school" for the time being. We have re-located, but had visits to one set of grandparents last weekend and the other this weekend. And we haven't yet moved his bedroom stuff back up to Nashua, so he was in the pack & play this week. And as a result, he's been very emotional. Couple unusually horrific meltdowns in public. Always a good time.

But we'll get there. I know we will. Even with the weirdness of this week and the anxiety I've been feeling, I know we're where we need to be, and I know we'll get this Mommy and B thing down pat.

Done-zo.

Well, today was my last day. What a strange feeling that, after going to work at the same place (different groups, but within the same realm) for 9 1/2 years, I won't be going there anymore. It's funny. I thought maybe I would be sad. But I'm not. I mean, I'm a naturally nostalgic person, so I did spend the day reminiscing about my years there, and it was emotional to close the door on a fairly major chapter in my life, but I'm not sad. I have a certainty inside me that this was absolutely the right decision for me and my family. Still, it is definitely surreal to leave behind a place that saw me grow from a single 24 year old with no corporate experience to speak of into a married mother and professional with almost 10 years experience. I'm ready for my next chapter.

Change Is Scary...

I've been trying for days to write this post. But it's like I have so many thoughts that I can't get them in order to write anything coherent. So...I quit my job. I gave my notice last Monday and my last day is next Monday, April 5th. And then I'll be a stay at home Mom....at least mostly.

I started at my company over nine years ago. I never meant to stay there for nine years. I thought I'd work there for a bit, gain some experience, move on. But life's a funny thing, isn't it? We just can't quite predict the roads we'll go down. And so, instead of moving on outside the company, I moved on within it. I had several positions, several managers; some were good, some not so good. I had friends. Lots of them.

In the end, though, it wasn't the place I felt at home. The best way I can think to describe it is that I feel like I spent all those years trying to make my brain work in a different way than it naturally does. Trying to make it fit. But more than that, my place is with my son. And that drove the decision more than anything else.

I'm terrified by this huge change. I've worked since I was a teenager. I've made my own money. And although I'll continue to work part time, it won't be quite the same. But I know it will be worth the trade offs. I will get to do the thing that makes me feel fulfilled.

This really isn't my most articulate post, but that's the scoop. More to come when I feel a little less muddled.

Human

I'm imperfect. Breaking news. I'm fallible. I make mistakes and try to learn from them.

One of my strong points, one of the things I'm known for, is that I have a lot of patience. Not in terms of waiting for things, but in terms of people - I can be very patient with difficult people or people who are in difficult moods. It's what made me (I hope) a good teacher, and it's what makes me a good mother...most of the time.

But I still have days when I'm just overtired and overstressed and overwhelmed, and it's like B senses that innately and wakes up SUPER early those days and then is a grumpy, whiny bear all morning. And that's the kind of morning we had this morning.

It's so hard to be patient when your reserves are empty. It's so hard to be the unflappable Mommy you want to be. And so, if you're me, you end up being more snappish than you'd normally be (which of course exacerbates the whining etc) and you end up just rushing for the finish line of dropping the child at daycare so you can get some work done. And then you sit there, staring at your computer screen, hating yourself for not being a better mother and a better person. You obsess over that sad little face and think you're just a wretched human being for not being more nurturing when your toddler is overtired himself. You completely block out the wonderful half hour you spent cuddling and singing with him when he was smiling and giggling.

And on those days, all you can hope is that he'll take a great nap at daycare and come home ready to give you another shot. Which he will, because he isn't nearly as affected by your mutual grumpiness as you are. And thank God for that.

Desperate Love

I recently finished reading Shelter Me by Juliette Fay. MAN, what a heartbreaking, beautiful, enthralling story that was. I emphasize the heartbreaking; I recommend the read, but go in knowing it's gut-wrenching in spots...which isn't much of a surprise if you read the premise blurb on the back.

One thing I particularly related to is that the main character, when faced with one of the most crushing experiences life has to offer (the loss of a spouse - again, not a spoiler - it's the book's premise), reacts with rage. She is pissed, and she's not afraid to let those around her know it. And I have a sneaking suspicion that in her shoes, I would probably mirror her biting sarcasm. Hope to God we never find out, because the people in her life are way, way more patient with it than those in mine would ever be.

Anyway, there is one line in particular that really stuck with me. "A parent's love is the most desperate thing there is." That line....it's just so true. That is precisely the way I feel. I love B desperately. I worry for him and hope for him and crave his love in return in a much more urgent and needy way than I ever did with another adult. It's kind of hard to explain, but that line captures it as well as anything I've seen.

Thoughts...

I remember so well how, when I was single and hadn't yet met E, I was so utterly fascinated by people in relationships. I just never really got how they worked. I never was much of a long-term relationship girl before E, so I remember being genuinely fascinated with how relationships worked. I would watch people and just wonder what it was like to know how that whole process worked. I would watch couples interact and wonder, "Will that ever be me?" And, deep down, I knew E was out there. I could feel him out there, waiting for me, just like I was waiting for him. But there was another part of me that doubted. There was the part of me who wondered how, when I truly didn't understand that relationship "thing" how I could ever be part of one.

I've noticed recently that I do the same thing with people who are in careers about which they truly feel passionate. I drink them up the way I used to drink up romance. I am so fascinated by how they got to that place. How did they KNOW? And of course, "Will that ever be me?" Will I ever find that thing that fills me with passion? I think I will. I'm a fairly passionate person, so I do think there's something out there that will excite me and fulfill me professionally the way my relationship with E and my motherhood of B do personally. I do. It's just hard to conceptualize right now. But if I learned anything from the development of my personal life, it was not to doubt that that magical thing will come together, if that makes sense.

Meanwhile, happy Valentine's Day, E!

Progress Report

I'm a more positive person than I was a year ago. Sure, I'm still neurotic as hell and I should probably be prescribed anti-anxiety meds, and I'm sure that seems counter to the idea of being a positive person, but it's true that I am. 2009 was a really difficult year. Not that I suffered any great personal tragedy - only vicarious ones, although too many of those, but it was one of those personal growth type years that are just kind of agonizing to get through. I learned an enormous amount about myself, including the fact that I did have reserves to get through another difficult year, even though I thought I'd burned through all my reserves in 2008. Things started to turn around late in 2009, though. E got that new job, my job turned a corner toward...less miserable, at any rate. What does all this portend for 2010? How could I possibly know that right now? What I do know is that E and I prayed and Secret-ed for a bunch of stuff over the course of 2009 and by the end of the year, a lot of it was coming to fruition. And that'll really restore a girl's faith.

All that said, I hardly think I'm complete. I'm certainly a work in progress. I still worry. I still walk around with a pit in my stomach like 85% of the time. I still get hurt feelings over things I shouldn't take personally, but do. I still feel resentful when I feel like I'm giving more than I'm getting. And all of these things mean that staying positive takes active effort on my part. And I still need to figure out precisely what it is that I want, in some areas of my life, because how can I hope for something if I'm not even sure what it is, am I right? Sigh. Life's the journey, right? Yea.

Sorry this post is a bit of a brain dump. I've got work to get started on and needed to clear the rubble, a bit.

Happy Groundhog Day. SPOILER ALERT: there are six more weeks of winter.

A Thank You

As I've probably mentioned here at some point previously (or some pointS, knowing me), my first job out of college was as an English teacher at a boarding school for kids with ADD and ADHD. One of the students I taught there really got under my skin. Actually, several of them did, but there was one in particular who drove me right up a wall. Not that I didn't like him - I did, but he was infuriating in his absolute refusal to follow any sort of instruction or to live up to his potential in any way. He was almost certainly among the smartest students I taught, but he would have been damned before letting on to anyone, most of the time.

The one exception, the one time he opened his mind and showed me its beauty and power, was when we read The Catcher in the Rye. He started off by saying, "I like this book. I like Holden. I can relate." And from there, he went on to offer some truly insightful commentary on the novel, and his theories on Salinger's thought process. It was probably the most amazing and triumphant moment I had as a teacher.

Much like Holden Caulfield, this boy let his alienation and angst get the best of him and ended up getting himself booted from the school. I never heard from him again and I have no idea what became of him. I hope it's something good. But for that one unit, I felt like I was getting somewhere with him, and I knew enough about his background to know he needed that. So, I like to hope that wherever he is, he has positive memories of learning, thanks to JD Salinger's brilliance. And I hope that JD Salinger has finally achieved peace from his own angst tonight.

Conflicted

I feel conflicted about the Senate election that just went to Scott Brown here in MA. I'm still registered in New Hampshire because that is our permanent address, so I didn't vote, and I'm kind of grateful that I couldn't because I didn't really feel comfortable with my options. Martha Coakley did some things as DA and AG that didn't sit well with me, as a voter. And I feel like she threw the election away by being out of touch (calling Curt Schilling a Yankees fan, misspelling the name of the state...). Meanwhile, Scott Brown wants to make IVF non-mandatory for insurance coverage in MA, which frankly enrages me. (It is currently covered.) The third option, Joe Kennedy, received 1% of the vote. So.

And a lot of people on the conservative side of the aisle are taking this election as a referendum on Obama's presidency. And while I do think that is probably part of what happened, I think theres much more to it than that. Americans voted Obama in in 2008 because they were unhappy with the way things were going and they wanted change. And I think that's still coming into play now. This election wasn't a rejection of the Democratic party as much as it was a rejection of the way things have been going. That's just one woman's opinion.

New Year's Resolutions?

I understand the instinct to make New Year's resolutions. You come to the end of one year and the beginning of the next, and it feels like the time to re-set a variety of things in your life. That makes sense to me. Even for people like me, who truly, madly, deeply love the holiday season, it's an exhausting time when you tend to let a lot of the little things slide in favor of the madness. You get busy. If you're like me and work for a financial institution, you get busy at work, as well as at life in general. You likely don't get enough sleep, you're likely spending money like a fiend, you're running yourself ragged in a million different ways. And then, snap! It's over. And you're left with a feeling that you want to get things back in order. So...you make resolutions. They might be quite lofty, or they might be mundane and simple.

Either way, here's the thing about resolutions. They...don't last. I mean, I'm sure I could come up with examples of people who've successfully stuck to their resolutions, if I tried. I'm sure I even have, a time or two. But by and large, as the year goes on, life takes over and the resolutions fade to the background. That's the nature of life.

So, what I like to do instead is to recognize January 1st for what it is - a new beginning. I try to put all my petty grievances of the prior year behind me and start fresh. I try to forgive myself for letting things slide for that last six weeks of the year, and especially for that extra five pounds my mom's and mother in law's delicious holiday eats (not to mention the extra booze) helped me pack on and just say, "Ok. Here's my opportunity for a fresh start."

I try to do this at work, too, of course, but it's harder to implement since returning from the holidays launches us immediately into month-quarter-year-end madness. But I'm trying anyway, because miring myself in negativity doesn't help anyway, so why not focus on the positive? Why not focus on the new department head who actually seems to take an interest in my career development? Why not focus on the opportunities he's already created for me? Why not focus on the potential positives the mentoring I took part in last year may yield as the company begins to recover from the bad times? Heck, why not focus on the fact that, as this new year begins, the company isn't laying off my coworkers every other week?

We'll see how it goes.