About three years ago, my husband and I went to a wine dinner at a local wine bar. The chef prepared eight different courses all paired with different wines. About half way through the dinner, I thought, "Hey, I could totally do this!" Now I'm not sure if that was logic or the wine talking at the point, but after the dinner was over I became slightly obsessed with doing one myself. Months later, that's exactly what I did. I hosted my very first wine dinner. I had a small group of family and friends over to the house and made them my personal guinea pigs. No one seemed to mind being experimented on...and the food did turn out good if I do say so myself.
It sparked something in me. Over the past years I've done several more at my house, each time for more and more family and friends. And it never fails that at some point someone will ask me, why don't you do this professionally? It was a question I'd asked myself several times. I didn't really know the answer. Maybe it was because I didn't feel as if I were really qualified to put myself out there. After all, I've never been to culinary school. All I know I've learned from doing, watching more cooking shows that I would like to admit...and becoming slightly infatuated with Chef Gordon Ramsey :) Those who know me know that confidence in myself has never been my strong point. I could never really make money doing this, right...well...maybe I could.
A few weeks ago, I got just the confidence boost I needed to finally listen to all my loved ones and put myself out there as a personal chef. I booked a gig! A real paid gig doing exactly what I had been doing for friends for years. I stressed over it for months. Planned everything with painstaking detail, praying that everything would go according to plan. Then an amazing thing happened. The day of the event came...and everything DID go according to plan. It felt incredible. Here I was, in another person's kitchen, preparing a much needed romantic dinner for her and her husband...and they LOVED it. More than that...I LOVED it. For the first time in a long time I felt genuinely proud of myself. And that's all I needed. That little spark lit a huge fire!
I got home and got to work. Now I'm armed with a website, Facebook page, all kinds of goodies and ready to roll. So here we go...fingers crossed...let's see where this takes me!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Breast Cancer "Game"
Let me begin by saying that if this particular blog reaches more than the few of my friends who actually read this, it may upset some people. Sorry if some people take it that way. I know the current readers I have will understand that this simply is an opinion, my opinion, and not set out to hurt anyone in any way. Now, that being said...
Over the past few weeks the latest "installment" of the breast cancer awareness game has been floating around Facebook. I'm not sure what all the other versions of the game have been. One was about bra color, one about where your purse was located, and I'm sure several more I wasn't even aware of. The latest one had women implying they were pregnant using the month and date they were born. Apparently, this game has offended a number of women.
I had never played the game before. Not because I don't want to support breast cancer research, but because I didn't think any of the concepts behind the games were "out there" enough to actually get people talking. This time, I played. I tried to be a responsible "player" of the game. I emailed all the women on my friends list who I thought would care, informing them in advance that I was not pregnant and passing along the email I know so many of us saw. For the guys (all two of them that asked), I explained it to them too. Although it's fun to keep guys guessing and in the dark about certain things, if the point of the game is to spread awareness, then I was going to spread it to everyone. After all, let's not forget that both women and men are affected by breast cancer (both first and second hand). I'm sure not everyone "played" the game as responsibly as I tried to, but I can't control how others veiw opportunities like this, so I'm not even going to try.
Now that the game has been underway for a while, I've noticed that it's getting a lot of back lash from a couple of groups of people. The first group are breast cancer patients and survivors. No, I don't have breast cancer (or any type of cancer for that matter) so I can't personally understand what they go through dealing with this terrible disease. I have had people close to me contract cancer, and continue their fight to this day. The second group are women who have struggled with infertility issues. No, I haven't had to deal with these issues either (knock wood on both counts that it stays that way) so I don't have the same personal feelings that they do. I have known people who have dealt with all sorts of infertility issues and my hat goes off to them for the spirit they have to endure those types of losses.
So here's where I may begin to step on some toes. Those who are upset with the game are mainly upset because they feel that the people playing are being insensitive to what those groups of people have gone or are going through. I've read some pretty intense blogs that make it sound as if this was a thought out, planned, malicious act to rub in the faces these strong women (and men) all the hardships they have to endure. Now I know I can't speak for everyone who played, but I would be willing to bet it all in Vegas that not one person who played this game did it with the intent to hurt anyone. Why would they? The intent was to raise awareness...and if you really think about it, that's EXACTLY what it did. Like it or not, it's definately gotten people talking.
I'm not trying to undermine the feelings of those who were hurt in whatever way by the playing of this game. I'm just offering up another way to look at things. We live in a country where you have the right to have (and say) any opinion you want. It's outlets like Facebook that make it possible to spread thoughts and ideas faster than before. This isn't always a good thing and I don't always like the things people have to say, but they are entitled to their opinion just as much as I am. If we all went through our day walking on eggshells doing everything possible not to offend or upset someone else, well, we might as well not even leave the house. People today are so easily offended, it's impossible to do or say anything without getting under someone's skin. I mean, prayer was taken out of school because one woman was offened by it and the whole thing snowballed. Think of how wonderfully that whole "movement" has turned out...
Because of the negative response this game has gotten, I've learned things about breast cancer and infertility that I never knew. Things I probably would have never learned had it not been for the controversy this game seemed to cause. Do I think that the actual changing of your status update is going to prompt someone to do a breast exam or schedule a mammogram...well, no. But, I do think that hearing about it on television (where it has been mentioned before) and reading about it on the Internet (and it seems to be all over the place) may cause people to take action for their own health. I know I did my breast exam after some of the things I read. So, take a minute and step back from the hurt feelings to realize that it actually may be doing some good. After all, no evil was intended. In my opinion, that should be enough sometimes. Like the way it is happening or not, breast cancer is getting attention because of this game (more specifically the aftermath of playing the game). It's getting attention that many other causes are not. There's not a "game" for every disease, disorder, condition, etc out there. Be glad that somewhere, some one (I'm guessing a woman) had an idea to cause a stir on Facebook to try and draw some attention for a good cause. And, best of all, it worked.
Over the past few weeks the latest "installment" of the breast cancer awareness game has been floating around Facebook. I'm not sure what all the other versions of the game have been. One was about bra color, one about where your purse was located, and I'm sure several more I wasn't even aware of. The latest one had women implying they were pregnant using the month and date they were born. Apparently, this game has offended a number of women.
I had never played the game before. Not because I don't want to support breast cancer research, but because I didn't think any of the concepts behind the games were "out there" enough to actually get people talking. This time, I played. I tried to be a responsible "player" of the game. I emailed all the women on my friends list who I thought would care, informing them in advance that I was not pregnant and passing along the email I know so many of us saw. For the guys (all two of them that asked), I explained it to them too. Although it's fun to keep guys guessing and in the dark about certain things, if the point of the game is to spread awareness, then I was going to spread it to everyone. After all, let's not forget that both women and men are affected by breast cancer (both first and second hand). I'm sure not everyone "played" the game as responsibly as I tried to, but I can't control how others veiw opportunities like this, so I'm not even going to try.
Now that the game has been underway for a while, I've noticed that it's getting a lot of back lash from a couple of groups of people. The first group are breast cancer patients and survivors. No, I don't have breast cancer (or any type of cancer for that matter) so I can't personally understand what they go through dealing with this terrible disease. I have had people close to me contract cancer, and continue their fight to this day. The second group are women who have struggled with infertility issues. No, I haven't had to deal with these issues either (knock wood on both counts that it stays that way) so I don't have the same personal feelings that they do. I have known people who have dealt with all sorts of infertility issues and my hat goes off to them for the spirit they have to endure those types of losses.
So here's where I may begin to step on some toes. Those who are upset with the game are mainly upset because they feel that the people playing are being insensitive to what those groups of people have gone or are going through. I've read some pretty intense blogs that make it sound as if this was a thought out, planned, malicious act to rub in the faces these strong women (and men) all the hardships they have to endure. Now I know I can't speak for everyone who played, but I would be willing to bet it all in Vegas that not one person who played this game did it with the intent to hurt anyone. Why would they? The intent was to raise awareness...and if you really think about it, that's EXACTLY what it did. Like it or not, it's definately gotten people talking.
I'm not trying to undermine the feelings of those who were hurt in whatever way by the playing of this game. I'm just offering up another way to look at things. We live in a country where you have the right to have (and say) any opinion you want. It's outlets like Facebook that make it possible to spread thoughts and ideas faster than before. This isn't always a good thing and I don't always like the things people have to say, but they are entitled to their opinion just as much as I am. If we all went through our day walking on eggshells doing everything possible not to offend or upset someone else, well, we might as well not even leave the house. People today are so easily offended, it's impossible to do or say anything without getting under someone's skin. I mean, prayer was taken out of school because one woman was offened by it and the whole thing snowballed. Think of how wonderfully that whole "movement" has turned out...
Because of the negative response this game has gotten, I've learned things about breast cancer and infertility that I never knew. Things I probably would have never learned had it not been for the controversy this game seemed to cause. Do I think that the actual changing of your status update is going to prompt someone to do a breast exam or schedule a mammogram...well, no. But, I do think that hearing about it on television (where it has been mentioned before) and reading about it on the Internet (and it seems to be all over the place) may cause people to take action for their own health. I know I did my breast exam after some of the things I read. So, take a minute and step back from the hurt feelings to realize that it actually may be doing some good. After all, no evil was intended. In my opinion, that should be enough sometimes. Like the way it is happening or not, breast cancer is getting attention because of this game (more specifically the aftermath of playing the game). It's getting attention that many other causes are not. There's not a "game" for every disease, disorder, condition, etc out there. Be glad that somewhere, some one (I'm guessing a woman) had an idea to cause a stir on Facebook to try and draw some attention for a good cause. And, best of all, it worked.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Don't Think It's Ever Going to be Enough
I'm not really sure how to begin this one. I have so many emotions running through me right now, I'm not even sure I could write them all down and have them make any kind of sense. But I have to try. If I don't get them out of my head I know I'll never sleep. With it being almost 1am already, that's something I need to get to doing tonight.
I guess the best place to start is to say that I love my sister. I love her with all my heart and I wouldn't trade her for the world. I'm not going to go into all the reasons that I needed to say that for the rest of this to make sense. Those who are "following" me know me...and know her for that matter, so the rest should (hopefully) make some sense. I don't know why, but lately the pressure that I've felt my entire life for being the "only one to do ___" has really caught up to me. I don't know if it's because things in my life have slowed down (compared to the roller coaster they used to be) or if it because I now have a daughter that I'm petrified of passing some of the pressure on to. But lately, I've been really feeling it weigh on my shoulders. And it seems to make things that shouldn't bother me as much kill me. I'm never going to have the "traditional" sister relationship that I've always envied from other people. I can't lean on her in a time like this like I wish I could. Part of me is thankful that these are things she will never know of...and part of me is desparate for someone like that to turn to (no matter what time it is).
I have a gorgeous nephew and niece who I see all too little. I care about them more than I can express and think about them everyday. I'm at a loss any more about what to do about this "situation". I don't understand it. I don't know what I could do differently to be a bigger part of their lives, or more importantly, for my daughter to be a bigger part of their lives. They are the only nephew and niece I will ever have, they are the only cousins she will ever have. I don't understand why we can't all be closer. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one that matters to.
I know how this all seems. My sister, the pressure I had growing up and the current situation concerning family don't seem to connect when you look at them from an outsiders point of view. But for me, I keep asking myself, what have I done that isn't good enough this time? Why can't we all be the family we should be? We all live in the same town. I know my door is always open...and I feel like I've pounded on a few lately. No, everybody doesn't always get along. But dammit...we're family and that should be enough. My poor husband keeps asking me what I want him to do. I can't answer him. I don't know what to say. I can't help but shouldering all the blame somehow thinking that one more annoying phone call might be just what it takes for everyone to realize what's really important. For everyone to wake up and see what's really going on. Put aside past differences because life is to precious and to short. To put down all the petty bullshit and just be together. I'm just not sure I have it in me any more. I don't like feeling like that "friend" of the group that no one really wants around but lets hang out with them when they have to just because they don't want to say how they really feel. But the overcoming sadness that I feel every time I hear family things are happening that we hear of last minute, or worse, not at all, kills me more.
I wish I could shake everyone and make them realize the things they could have if they opened their eyes. Things they take for granted that I so desperately want to be a part of. No one seems to care that anything is missing but me. Makes me feel so alone. Like there's something wrong with me for wanting it in the first place. I just wish there was a switch to turn off the feelings. Because it really doesn't matter how many times I hear that it isn't a personal thing against me...it is...deep down it is...whether anyone realizes it or not. It hurts. And it's a hurt that doesn't go away.
I guess the best place to start is to say that I love my sister. I love her with all my heart and I wouldn't trade her for the world. I'm not going to go into all the reasons that I needed to say that for the rest of this to make sense. Those who are "following" me know me...and know her for that matter, so the rest should (hopefully) make some sense. I don't know why, but lately the pressure that I've felt my entire life for being the "only one to do ___" has really caught up to me. I don't know if it's because things in my life have slowed down (compared to the roller coaster they used to be) or if it because I now have a daughter that I'm petrified of passing some of the pressure on to. But lately, I've been really feeling it weigh on my shoulders. And it seems to make things that shouldn't bother me as much kill me. I'm never going to have the "traditional" sister relationship that I've always envied from other people. I can't lean on her in a time like this like I wish I could. Part of me is thankful that these are things she will never know of...and part of me is desparate for someone like that to turn to (no matter what time it is).
I have a gorgeous nephew and niece who I see all too little. I care about them more than I can express and think about them everyday. I'm at a loss any more about what to do about this "situation". I don't understand it. I don't know what I could do differently to be a bigger part of their lives, or more importantly, for my daughter to be a bigger part of their lives. They are the only nephew and niece I will ever have, they are the only cousins she will ever have. I don't understand why we can't all be closer. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one that matters to.
I know how this all seems. My sister, the pressure I had growing up and the current situation concerning family don't seem to connect when you look at them from an outsiders point of view. But for me, I keep asking myself, what have I done that isn't good enough this time? Why can't we all be the family we should be? We all live in the same town. I know my door is always open...and I feel like I've pounded on a few lately. No, everybody doesn't always get along. But dammit...we're family and that should be enough. My poor husband keeps asking me what I want him to do. I can't answer him. I don't know what to say. I can't help but shouldering all the blame somehow thinking that one more annoying phone call might be just what it takes for everyone to realize what's really important. For everyone to wake up and see what's really going on. Put aside past differences because life is to precious and to short. To put down all the petty bullshit and just be together. I'm just not sure I have it in me any more. I don't like feeling like that "friend" of the group that no one really wants around but lets hang out with them when they have to just because they don't want to say how they really feel. But the overcoming sadness that I feel every time I hear family things are happening that we hear of last minute, or worse, not at all, kills me more.
I wish I could shake everyone and make them realize the things they could have if they opened their eyes. Things they take for granted that I so desperately want to be a part of. No one seems to care that anything is missing but me. Makes me feel so alone. Like there's something wrong with me for wanting it in the first place. I just wish there was a switch to turn off the feelings. Because it really doesn't matter how many times I hear that it isn't a personal thing against me...it is...deep down it is...whether anyone realizes it or not. It hurts. And it's a hurt that doesn't go away.
Monday, August 8, 2011
A Year has Come and Gone...With Only a Few Tears
I guess the best way to start this one is with a little background about me. I've never been a mushy person. Sure, I love when my husband surprises me with flowers or plans a really romantic date night for us. But I've never been one of those girls to tear up at things. My mom used to tell me I had no heart because I was the only woman she ever knew that could watch Steel Magnolias straight through without shedding a tear. Not one...not once. In fact, I can probably count on one hand all the times a movie/TV show/song/etc has made me cry...and they've all been this year. Ever since Lila's been born I can get weepy at just about anything. Especially if it has ANYTHING to do with a cute little baby girl. Yep, my daughter has made me go soft.
Today is my daughter's first birthday. In the past weeks as this day approached, I've been filled with emotions that are very new to me. Yes, I am excited to see this milestone in her life. But I've been very sad about it too. My pregnancy with her was not the easiest thing in the world. Neither was her delivery. I was in labor for three and a half hours before they told me an emergency c-section would be needed to make sure all was well. At 11:03am, she was here, thankfully without any complications or health issues.
Now a year later as I sit and think of all the days that have passed since then, an odd feeling comes over me. It seems like only yesterday that we brought her home from the hospital and Tim took her on a tour of her new home. Just yesterday when she was even to small to fill out her newborn clothes. Just yesterday when she would sleep curled up on my chest for hours. Now she crawls around, sometimes to fast to keep up with. She's still so petite she can fit into her 3-6 month pants (but they've turned into cute little high waters), yet she's such a big girl. She doesn't fall asleep on my chest any more, but sometimes she will nuzzle into my neck when she's really tired. So much has changed so fast...still it doesn't seem possible that a year has past...still it doesn't seem possible that there was ever a time that she wasn't with us.
I've been blessed to see these days as they pass. I'll continue to be blessed to see the days in front of us as they go by. I just hope there comes a time that the days pass a little slower. Until then, I'll make sure to slow down my pace a little. To enjoy every moment I can with her as they come. That's one thing I can make sure happens. Happy Birthday baby girl! Momma loves you!!
Today is my daughter's first birthday. In the past weeks as this day approached, I've been filled with emotions that are very new to me. Yes, I am excited to see this milestone in her life. But I've been very sad about it too. My pregnancy with her was not the easiest thing in the world. Neither was her delivery. I was in labor for three and a half hours before they told me an emergency c-section would be needed to make sure all was well. At 11:03am, she was here, thankfully without any complications or health issues.
Now a year later as I sit and think of all the days that have passed since then, an odd feeling comes over me. It seems like only yesterday that we brought her home from the hospital and Tim took her on a tour of her new home. Just yesterday when she was even to small to fill out her newborn clothes. Just yesterday when she would sleep curled up on my chest for hours. Now she crawls around, sometimes to fast to keep up with. She's still so petite she can fit into her 3-6 month pants (but they've turned into cute little high waters), yet she's such a big girl. She doesn't fall asleep on my chest any more, but sometimes she will nuzzle into my neck when she's really tired. So much has changed so fast...still it doesn't seem possible that a year has past...still it doesn't seem possible that there was ever a time that she wasn't with us.
I've been blessed to see these days as they pass. I'll continue to be blessed to see the days in front of us as they go by. I just hope there comes a time that the days pass a little slower. Until then, I'll make sure to slow down my pace a little. To enjoy every moment I can with her as they come. That's one thing I can make sure happens. Happy Birthday baby girl! Momma loves you!!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
We're On Vacation! (Part 3) - Home Again...
So the end has come on our week at the beach. Now that we're home and unpacking, I am realizing how fast the week went. When I was younger a week at the beach felt so much longer than a week at home. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because the pace of life at the beach was calmer and more laid back than it ever was at home. But now, as I'm sorting laundry to wash and putting things away, it really feels as if I just packed up for this trip yesterday. Would be nice to feel like we actually spent that time away from home.
Our last day was one of the best of the week. We took Lila back to the beach and tried to get her to go into the ocean. We should have known the problems we were going to have with the attempt by how much she resisted putting on her life jacket. We got about knee deep into the ocean, trying to put her feet in the water the whole time, before we gave up and let her go back to enjoying digging in the sand and playing in her tide pool. At least we got a few pictures. It's been neat watching her experiment with the sand, water and shells. I hope we have a chance to bring her back to the beach soon. Next year will be quite an experience. She will well be running around by that time!
Tim and I even got in a date night that night. Neither one of us were feeling the leftovers that were available for dinner. So, after we put the baby to bed and grammy in charge of the monitor, we went back up to Castaways for dinner. We even got the same table we've sat at each time we've been. There was a saxophone player providing tunes and entertainment to the crowd. He was pretty good though I did find it strange that a one man act referred to himself as "JP and friends". I wonder if his "friends" were just absent this evening..or if they actually exist.
So now all of us are back home. We're even up one person. My sister came back with us and will be visiting for three weeks. I always enjoying having her around. It's nice to have someone to give me a hand here and there. I do hate that the time at the beach went by so quickly, but it will be good to get back into the swing of things around here.
Our last day was one of the best of the week. We took Lila back to the beach and tried to get her to go into the ocean. We should have known the problems we were going to have with the attempt by how much she resisted putting on her life jacket. We got about knee deep into the ocean, trying to put her feet in the water the whole time, before we gave up and let her go back to enjoying digging in the sand and playing in her tide pool. At least we got a few pictures. It's been neat watching her experiment with the sand, water and shells. I hope we have a chance to bring her back to the beach soon. Next year will be quite an experience. She will well be running around by that time!
Tim and I even got in a date night that night. Neither one of us were feeling the leftovers that were available for dinner. So, after we put the baby to bed and grammy in charge of the monitor, we went back up to Castaways for dinner. We even got the same table we've sat at each time we've been. There was a saxophone player providing tunes and entertainment to the crowd. He was pretty good though I did find it strange that a one man act referred to himself as "JP and friends". I wonder if his "friends" were just absent this evening..or if they actually exist.
So now all of us are back home. We're even up one person. My sister came back with us and will be visiting for three weeks. I always enjoying having her around. It's nice to have someone to give me a hand here and there. I do hate that the time at the beach went by so quickly, but it will be good to get back into the swing of things around here.
Friday, July 15, 2011
We're On Vacation! (Part 2) - Things are a Little Quite Around Here
This is the first time my husband has been able to join us at the beach for the whole week. He's usually so busy with work that he can't make it down. This year, he decided no matter what he was coming with us. It's been nice having him here. I would have hated to have him miss Lila's first real trip to the beach. That being said...
It's been a much different trip this year. By the time I've gotten home from the beach in years past, I'm usually full of stories about the "crazy" things that have happened. Tim's heard them all, so he was ready for the madness that typically ensues at some time or another. But this year...nothing. It's a bit of a Catch 22 really. No one is arguing...which is good. The evenings are a little on the boring side...which is bad. The days seem to be taken up with the beach (as they should be) but a typical night consists of everyone on their respective computers/IPODS/Tablets doing whatever. Just more subdued than a typical trip.
Yesterday was a bit of a family day for us. After catching one two many rays (and forgetting to put sunscreen on my face), we decided to stay out of the sun for an afternoon. Tim and I took the baby up to a little open air pub called Castaways for lunch and a beer. Tim tried a very tasty oatmeal stout he hadn't heard of before, and Lila enjoyed snacking on daddy's chips and mommy's crab dip. After lunch, we ventured over the bridge to check out a few of the local shops. They are the typical shops you find in any beach town, full of every type of souvenir imaginable. We found a small strip that, from the looks of it, seemed to be independently owned shops and not the gigantic Wings you see everywhere. We joked about the store front of the first shop we saw. With "open", "closed" and "sale today" signs all hanging in the window, it was difficult to know which one was currently correct. We found it, closed.
The first shop we went into was a cross between a video store and a dollar store (where everything wasn't a dollar but looked like the stock had stayed put for years). It smelled pretty bad inside. I would have to be very hard pressed to actually buy anything from this one. I'm not sure anything in the store could be trusted unless highly sanitized, several times over. We walked through a surf shop next. Typical t-shirts, shorts, flops and bathing suits. Tim reminisced a bit about his Ed Hurley and Billabong band days. It would be interesting to see him wear some of that stuff again. Not a look I've ever seen on him, but I bet he could still pull it off. The last store in the strip was a little "antique" store. There were some neat older things to look at, though it was more reminiscent of a flea market booth than a traditional antique store. Some special treasures could be found, if that were the thing you were looking for. Interesting to look at none-the-less. The owner of the store was very nice. He gave Lila an otter beanie baby named Seaweed. He told us he gives one to all the kids who come in the store. He finds it keeps them occupied and quite while their parents look around. Smart man.
The rest of the evening was like the rest of them have been, pretty quite. My cousin made chili for dinner, which was good if you could get past the tears that would well up in your eyes from the spice. He was also passing around shots of some liquor called Malot (or something like that) which can only be found in Chicago. It looks, smells and tastes like Listerine. Reminded me of hanging out in my dad's dental office as a kid. Unfortunately, the taste seems to linger with you. One was more than enough for me. After dinner, Tim and I watched a movie while most everyone else went to play putt-putt. A bulb in the TV here must be going bad. While watching a movie, the screen will go from light to dark to nothing. I find it curious that it only seems to do it when a DVD is playing. Too bad it can't fade in and out like that when my grandfather is watching FOX news...haha.
So today is our last day here at the beach. Right now, I'm just waiting on Lila to wake up from her nap so we can take her to the beach one last time. Maybe she'll even let us take her in the ocean. We're at least going to try. Stay tuned to see how well that works out...
It's been a much different trip this year. By the time I've gotten home from the beach in years past, I'm usually full of stories about the "crazy" things that have happened. Tim's heard them all, so he was ready for the madness that typically ensues at some time or another. But this year...nothing. It's a bit of a Catch 22 really. No one is arguing...which is good. The evenings are a little on the boring side...which is bad. The days seem to be taken up with the beach (as they should be) but a typical night consists of everyone on their respective computers/IPODS/Tablets doing whatever. Just more subdued than a typical trip.
Yesterday was a bit of a family day for us. After catching one two many rays (and forgetting to put sunscreen on my face), we decided to stay out of the sun for an afternoon. Tim and I took the baby up to a little open air pub called Castaways for lunch and a beer. Tim tried a very tasty oatmeal stout he hadn't heard of before, and Lila enjoyed snacking on daddy's chips and mommy's crab dip. After lunch, we ventured over the bridge to check out a few of the local shops. They are the typical shops you find in any beach town, full of every type of souvenir imaginable. We found a small strip that, from the looks of it, seemed to be independently owned shops and not the gigantic Wings you see everywhere. We joked about the store front of the first shop we saw. With "open", "closed" and "sale today" signs all hanging in the window, it was difficult to know which one was currently correct. We found it, closed.
The first shop we went into was a cross between a video store and a dollar store (where everything wasn't a dollar but looked like the stock had stayed put for years). It smelled pretty bad inside. I would have to be very hard pressed to actually buy anything from this one. I'm not sure anything in the store could be trusted unless highly sanitized, several times over. We walked through a surf shop next. Typical t-shirts, shorts, flops and bathing suits. Tim reminisced a bit about his Ed Hurley and Billabong band days. It would be interesting to see him wear some of that stuff again. Not a look I've ever seen on him, but I bet he could still pull it off. The last store in the strip was a little "antique" store. There were some neat older things to look at, though it was more reminiscent of a flea market booth than a traditional antique store. Some special treasures could be found, if that were the thing you were looking for. Interesting to look at none-the-less. The owner of the store was very nice. He gave Lila an otter beanie baby named Seaweed. He told us he gives one to all the kids who come in the store. He finds it keeps them occupied and quite while their parents look around. Smart man.
The rest of the evening was like the rest of them have been, pretty quite. My cousin made chili for dinner, which was good if you could get past the tears that would well up in your eyes from the spice. He was also passing around shots of some liquor called Malot (or something like that) which can only be found in Chicago. It looks, smells and tastes like Listerine. Reminded me of hanging out in my dad's dental office as a kid. Unfortunately, the taste seems to linger with you. One was more than enough for me. After dinner, Tim and I watched a movie while most everyone else went to play putt-putt. A bulb in the TV here must be going bad. While watching a movie, the screen will go from light to dark to nothing. I find it curious that it only seems to do it when a DVD is playing. Too bad it can't fade in and out like that when my grandfather is watching FOX news...haha.
So today is our last day here at the beach. Right now, I'm just waiting on Lila to wake up from her nap so we can take her to the beach one last time. Maybe she'll even let us take her in the ocean. We're at least going to try. Stay tuned to see how well that works out...
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
We're On Vacation! (Part 1)
For twenty years now, my family has been going to the beach for a week every summer. We spent many years going to Ocean Isle, which almost started to feel like a second home. Every year sometime between June and July, a big group of us would head to the beach to relax for the week. Typically it was my family (four of us plus a friend I always go to bring), my grandparents, my uncle and his family, my two aunts and their families, a few others here and there...and a partrige in a pear tree. We'd go on walks or bike rides in the morning, hang on the beach for the day, play some mini-golf or a game of pool when the beach got too hot, and take the boat or jet skis out for a run before dinner.
Then, a few years back some crazy lady got her panties in a wad about protecting sea turtles and Ocean Isle outlawed tents on the beach. We went there a few times after that, but missing the shade of my uncle's big beach tent, went on the hunt for another family beach spot. A bit of a silly reason to break with tradition over a comfort as small as a tent, but that's what happened. Last year, everyone went to Wrightsville. I wasn't there. I was pregnant. Very pregnant. Too pregnant to even entertain the idea of being in the car for the time it would take to get to the beach...let alone actually want to step foot on the sand. Guess it wasn't exactly what they were looking for because soon after the trip ended, my mom was
already on the hunt for a new beach. One that everyone liked enough to keep coming back. And this year, we've found Holden Beach.
This is the first time I've ever been to Holden Beach. It seems like a nice enough beach, though not the same as the one I grew to love many years over. The island itself is pretty long, and there's not much on it that's not right off the bridge. The house we've rented is on the west side of the island were most of the homes are privately owned and not rented out. The good end of the deal is that the beach itself is not very crowded. The bad end of the deal is that we are almost as far away from everything as we can be. There's been some debate whether the closest form of civilization (an ice cream shop and general store) is 3 or 5 miles away (depending on how big your tires are...haha...yes, that was part of a REAL discussion)...either way...too far to not need a car.
The house we are renting is actually a duplex. It's been nice having two kitchens. With eighteen people under one roof, it's been an added luxury to feel like we can spread out a little more. It will be even nicer come tomorrow when some people start getting on other people's nerves and there's more places to hide. It's not necessarily the nicest house we've ever stayed in, but it serves all the needed purposes. We've spent some time envying the house behind us that has a swimming pool, volleyball court, basketball and shuffle board. I think we've already researched that one for next year.
It's been an interesting vacation so far. Lila's spent a few days at the beach which has been neat to watch. I was worried how she would react to the ocean. She's not a big fan of cooler water. She wasn't a fan at first, but once she figured out how to dig around in the sand, she was right at home. She spent a long time just running her fingers through the sand, chasing small beach toys through the tide pool waters and sampling how the shells tasted. She is still not used to the waves. She was playing in the sand at one point when a wave came in a barely reached her, just up to her bottom a bit. You would have thought a shark crawled up on the beach next to her. She screamed and started crawling up my legs. It was pricelessly funny! The demented side of my personality wants to set her up again, and this time have a video camera rolling. We'll see if that can be arranged. I'm hoping to try out her new life jacket and get her out in the waves before we leave. We'll see how that goes.
Our second night here, we packed up the whole crew and headed to Ocean Isle to have dinner at the Sugar Shack. (My own personal "Frommer's" tip for you: If you ever find yourself in Ocean Isle, you MUST eat at Sugar Shack. You will not be disappointed!) Sugar Shack is a Jamaican restaurant run by two transplanted yankees from New York. We forgive them for that since the food is so good! My dad had a beautiful salad of mozzarella cheese, basil, and tomatoes on steroids. Some years ago her actually got the owner to tell him where she got her tomatoes. Now, every year, he heads to the little farmer's market down the street and asks for the tomatoes "in the back room". The woman in charges usually just smiles and sells him a few. Lila ate most of my lobster bisque and was very displeased when there was no more left in the bowl. Most of the group chowed down on ribs and shrimp for dinner. Tim and my cousin tested out the goat. I found it to be a bit chewy but good all the same. We all participated in an embarrassing display of "Happy Birthday" for a few patrons before heading back. It was bittersweet being so close to the beach we spent so many good years enjoying. Even though Holden is only one beach north of Holden, it feels like a bit of a hike, but was well worth the trip!
Yesterday a few of the ladies took a day shopping trip to Myrtle Beach before meeting the rest of the group for dinner at Pirate Voyage. The show was pretty entertaining...with PLENTY of food for anyone. I was just thankful that Lila was tolerant of the whole show. With cannons going off and lots of flashing lights, there was no shortage of opportunities for her to show her not so pretty side. She seemed to enjoy most of it though, eatting most of my vegetable soup before watching the pirate performers dive into the water and tumble across the floor. It was QUITE a drive back though. If we do make Holden Beach our new beach of choice, I'm not sure I'll be up for making the treck all the way to Mrytle ever year.
Today I got to do something I haven't done in at least ten years. We took a walk down to the end of the island at low tide and dug for sand dollars. We did this at Ocean Isle for many, many years. Used to be that you could go out a little before low tide, walk out until you were knee to waist deep in water, scoop up some sand and come up with two or three sand dollars on your arm. As the years have gone by, there have been less and less sand dollars. The last year we went, no one could find anything. Probably due to the people that would come out and take them back by the hundreds. Today we found three. It wasn't that successful of an adventure, but it sure brought back some memories to do it again. At least we have something to show for the effort.
So there's the highlights of the trip so far. My goal was to write everyday of the trip (like I did when we were in Ireland), but that hasn't happened so far. Hopefully I can keep up with things a bit more now and write every day for the rest of the trip. Maybe then you won't get the Cliff's notes version...but the whole kit and cabootal.
Then, a few years back some crazy lady got her panties in a wad about protecting sea turtles and Ocean Isle outlawed tents on the beach. We went there a few times after that, but missing the shade of my uncle's big beach tent, went on the hunt for another family beach spot. A bit of a silly reason to break with tradition over a comfort as small as a tent, but that's what happened. Last year, everyone went to Wrightsville. I wasn't there. I was pregnant. Very pregnant. Too pregnant to even entertain the idea of being in the car for the time it would take to get to the beach...let alone actually want to step foot on the sand. Guess it wasn't exactly what they were looking for because soon after the trip ended, my mom was
already on the hunt for a new beach. One that everyone liked enough to keep coming back. And this year, we've found Holden Beach.
This is the first time I've ever been to Holden Beach. It seems like a nice enough beach, though not the same as the one I grew to love many years over. The island itself is pretty long, and there's not much on it that's not right off the bridge. The house we've rented is on the west side of the island were most of the homes are privately owned and not rented out. The good end of the deal is that the beach itself is not very crowded. The bad end of the deal is that we are almost as far away from everything as we can be. There's been some debate whether the closest form of civilization (an ice cream shop and general store) is 3 or 5 miles away (depending on how big your tires are...haha...yes, that was part of a REAL discussion)...either way...too far to not need a car.
The house we are renting is actually a duplex. It's been nice having two kitchens. With eighteen people under one roof, it's been an added luxury to feel like we can spread out a little more. It will be even nicer come tomorrow when some people start getting on other people's nerves and there's more places to hide. It's not necessarily the nicest house we've ever stayed in, but it serves all the needed purposes. We've spent some time envying the house behind us that has a swimming pool, volleyball court, basketball and shuffle board. I think we've already researched that one for next year.
It's been an interesting vacation so far. Lila's spent a few days at the beach which has been neat to watch. I was worried how she would react to the ocean. She's not a big fan of cooler water. She wasn't a fan at first, but once she figured out how to dig around in the sand, she was right at home. She spent a long time just running her fingers through the sand, chasing small beach toys through the tide pool waters and sampling how the shells tasted. She is still not used to the waves. She was playing in the sand at one point when a wave came in a barely reached her, just up to her bottom a bit. You would have thought a shark crawled up on the beach next to her. She screamed and started crawling up my legs. It was pricelessly funny! The demented side of my personality wants to set her up again, and this time have a video camera rolling. We'll see if that can be arranged. I'm hoping to try out her new life jacket and get her out in the waves before we leave. We'll see how that goes.
Our second night here, we packed up the whole crew and headed to Ocean Isle to have dinner at the Sugar Shack. (My own personal "Frommer's" tip for you: If you ever find yourself in Ocean Isle, you MUST eat at Sugar Shack. You will not be disappointed!) Sugar Shack is a Jamaican restaurant run by two transplanted yankees from New York. We forgive them for that since the food is so good! My dad had a beautiful salad of mozzarella cheese, basil, and tomatoes on steroids. Some years ago her actually got the owner to tell him where she got her tomatoes. Now, every year, he heads to the little farmer's market down the street and asks for the tomatoes "in the back room". The woman in charges usually just smiles and sells him a few. Lila ate most of my lobster bisque and was very displeased when there was no more left in the bowl. Most of the group chowed down on ribs and shrimp for dinner. Tim and my cousin tested out the goat. I found it to be a bit chewy but good all the same. We all participated in an embarrassing display of "Happy Birthday" for a few patrons before heading back. It was bittersweet being so close to the beach we spent so many good years enjoying. Even though Holden is only one beach north of Holden, it feels like a bit of a hike, but was well worth the trip!
Yesterday a few of the ladies took a day shopping trip to Myrtle Beach before meeting the rest of the group for dinner at Pirate Voyage. The show was pretty entertaining...with PLENTY of food for anyone. I was just thankful that Lila was tolerant of the whole show. With cannons going off and lots of flashing lights, there was no shortage of opportunities for her to show her not so pretty side. She seemed to enjoy most of it though, eatting most of my vegetable soup before watching the pirate performers dive into the water and tumble across the floor. It was QUITE a drive back though. If we do make Holden Beach our new beach of choice, I'm not sure I'll be up for making the treck all the way to Mrytle ever year.
Today I got to do something I haven't done in at least ten years. We took a walk down to the end of the island at low tide and dug for sand dollars. We did this at Ocean Isle for many, many years. Used to be that you could go out a little before low tide, walk out until you were knee to waist deep in water, scoop up some sand and come up with two or three sand dollars on your arm. As the years have gone by, there have been less and less sand dollars. The last year we went, no one could find anything. Probably due to the people that would come out and take them back by the hundreds. Today we found three. It wasn't that successful of an adventure, but it sure brought back some memories to do it again. At least we have something to show for the effort.
So there's the highlights of the trip so far. My goal was to write everyday of the trip (like I did when we were in Ireland), but that hasn't happened so far. Hopefully I can keep up with things a bit more now and write every day for the rest of the trip. Maybe then you won't get the Cliff's notes version...but the whole kit and cabootal.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Dang! Them Little Teeth Hurt!
First of all let me say that I'm a huge supporter of breastfeeding. I'm not one of those moms that looks down on women who choose to formula feed, I say to each his own, but I personally believe in breastfeeding. Before I had my daughter, I always said that come hell or high water, she would be breastfed. Every mom has to make that decision for themselves and I had made my mind up. That was how it was going to be. And that's how it was...I went through hell and high water getting her to breastfeed.
It was very rough at first. She would latch but not eat. Every feeding was an hour and a half of both me and my husband working together to get her fed. Trying to nurse, pumping, feeding her my milk, supplementing with formula...only to have to repeat the whole process an hour and a half later. We went to several lactation consultant visits, anything we could do to get help. I think it was difficult for my husband at first, to see the struggle we were both going through. But I've never been a quitter...and I was determined. I'd always heard that something magical happens at the two week mark and thankfully for us, it did. Two weeks of endlessly long feedings and she figured it out. Finally! Thank goodness!
My sweet baby girl will be 1 in August (which is difficult to believe) and we're still going strong on the breastfeeding train. It's probably very likely that we're still going as well as we are because of all the struggle we went through in the beginning. I figure, if I was going to go through all the pain (literally) to get her to breastfeed...I'm going to milk it for all it's worth (ha...pun intended).
About a month ago my daughter cut her top two teeth. She now has four total, two top and two bottom. If I had one fear about breastfeeding, this was it. Teeth. She'd gotten a little over zealous a time or two pre-teeth, so I knew what it felt like to get "bit". Considering how much that hurt, I had nightmares about how it would be when the choppers actually started coming in. I'd heard both sides of the stories from moms that had continued to breastfeed their children once they had teeth. On one hand were the moms that didn't notice any difference. After all, babies don't (technically) need their teeth to breastfeed. On the other hand were the moms who got bitten every time they tried to feed their teething baby...so it was bye bye breastfeeding or hello bloody nipples. Bet you can guess which path almost all those mommies took. Needless to say, I was on edge about which group I would soon be a part of.
I noticed no difference with her bottom teeth. They barely bothered her coming in and I noticed no difference come feeding time. Wonderful! I get to be in the lucky group. Sure enough, as soon as I started thinking we were home free, her top teeth started to make their appearance. Those two monsters gave her a rough time. They took every bit of a week to finally pop through, and she was miserable the whole time. Now that they are through, feeding time has become a real crap shoot on my end. It's not that she actually bites me. The act of biting, I've heard, can actually be corrected. But that's not what she does. She just, well, rests her top teeth while she eats. That's the only way I can think to describe it. It progressively gets worse the longer she eats or depending on how tired she is at the time. The longer we go, the more those little buggers dig into me. And they are sharp! It's not that it's unbearable, just very uncomfortable. Who knew that something so tiny as two little teeth could hurt so much. It's almost like she's packing baby razor blades in her mouth.
Still, I'm determined to go as long as I can and she wants to (which I know isn't much longer). I know there will be a time very soon that this magical experience will be over, and I know I will miss it. It's incredible to know that I can provide my baby with everything she needs to nourish her body with nothing but myself. So, for now, I can handle gritting my teeth through those tired feedings as those Jaws-like teeth sink deeper and deeper. After all, those two little "vampire" marks she leaves on me after a good feeding are only a reminder that she's getting a nice, healthy meal. For now, it's a small price to pay.
It was very rough at first. She would latch but not eat. Every feeding was an hour and a half of both me and my husband working together to get her fed. Trying to nurse, pumping, feeding her my milk, supplementing with formula...only to have to repeat the whole process an hour and a half later. We went to several lactation consultant visits, anything we could do to get help. I think it was difficult for my husband at first, to see the struggle we were both going through. But I've never been a quitter...and I was determined. I'd always heard that something magical happens at the two week mark and thankfully for us, it did. Two weeks of endlessly long feedings and she figured it out. Finally! Thank goodness!
My sweet baby girl will be 1 in August (which is difficult to believe) and we're still going strong on the breastfeeding train. It's probably very likely that we're still going as well as we are because of all the struggle we went through in the beginning. I figure, if I was going to go through all the pain (literally) to get her to breastfeed...I'm going to milk it for all it's worth (ha...pun intended).
About a month ago my daughter cut her top two teeth. She now has four total, two top and two bottom. If I had one fear about breastfeeding, this was it. Teeth. She'd gotten a little over zealous a time or two pre-teeth, so I knew what it felt like to get "bit". Considering how much that hurt, I had nightmares about how it would be when the choppers actually started coming in. I'd heard both sides of the stories from moms that had continued to breastfeed their children once they had teeth. On one hand were the moms that didn't notice any difference. After all, babies don't (technically) need their teeth to breastfeed. On the other hand were the moms who got bitten every time they tried to feed their teething baby...so it was bye bye breastfeeding or hello bloody nipples. Bet you can guess which path almost all those mommies took. Needless to say, I was on edge about which group I would soon be a part of.
I noticed no difference with her bottom teeth. They barely bothered her coming in and I noticed no difference come feeding time. Wonderful! I get to be in the lucky group. Sure enough, as soon as I started thinking we were home free, her top teeth started to make their appearance. Those two monsters gave her a rough time. They took every bit of a week to finally pop through, and she was miserable the whole time. Now that they are through, feeding time has become a real crap shoot on my end. It's not that she actually bites me. The act of biting, I've heard, can actually be corrected. But that's not what she does. She just, well, rests her top teeth while she eats. That's the only way I can think to describe it. It progressively gets worse the longer she eats or depending on how tired she is at the time. The longer we go, the more those little buggers dig into me. And they are sharp! It's not that it's unbearable, just very uncomfortable. Who knew that something so tiny as two little teeth could hurt so much. It's almost like she's packing baby razor blades in her mouth.
Still, I'm determined to go as long as I can and she wants to (which I know isn't much longer). I know there will be a time very soon that this magical experience will be over, and I know I will miss it. It's incredible to know that I can provide my baby with everything she needs to nourish her body with nothing but myself. So, for now, I can handle gritting my teeth through those tired feedings as those Jaws-like teeth sink deeper and deeper. After all, those two little "vampire" marks she leaves on me after a good feeding are only a reminder that she's getting a nice, healthy meal. For now, it's a small price to pay.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Does Anybody Actually WRITE Anymore?
We live in a world full of technology. There's email, blogging, Facebook, Twitter (among many more I'm sure), which are not only available now from your computer or laptop but (for most people) your phone as well. It seems that quickly we are becoming a society who relies almost entirely on forms of communication in which you don't actually have to "communicate". Sounds a bit contradictory to say as I'm typing this on a blog and not actually writing it in a journal or notebook. But it's gotten me thinking. Does anybody actually write anymore? You know, with paper and pen the way we used to do?
Growing up I used to write a lot. Ironically, most of the stories I've written have been on the computer. Thanks to my mom's job in the IT world, we've had a computer at our house since there was such a thing. Our first one was the big beige box with a black screen and green typing. When you booted up, you saw C:// (and you had to know what to do with it or you weren't getting anywhere). Back then you actually had to know something about computers to navigate them. You still had to be smarter than the computer in order to use it. Looking back, I think the only reason I wrote most of my stories on the computer was because I've always typed faster than I can write. The pen has never been very good at keeping up with the thoughts that go zooming through my head, but my fingers proved to be much more successful. Still...I wrote a lot too!
I had pen pals. Actual pen pals. Several of them. It was always so exciting to be to pull out my pretty stationary and a neat looking pen, maybe a sticker or two, and write a letter to someone. Sometimes it was a friend. Other times it was a family member. Either way, I loved writing down the accounts of my life to share with someone who I knew gave a crap. More exciting though was going to the mailbox every day in anticipation of a return letter. Then the day that a letter for me arrived! WOW! Getting mail used to feel closer to Christmas. Now with the only mail I get coming in the forms of junk or bills...that little flutter of excitement I used to get running to the mailbox has long since disappeared. So much so that checking the mail is one of my least favorite things to do...and a task I try to pawn off on my husband as often as possible.
It saddens me a bit that this is the way the world is turning. Don't get me wrong...I'm ALL about the everyday tasks in which technology makes ten times easier. I love being able to shop in my PJs or watch a movie in my underwear by the glow of my computer screen. But it's also becoming very harmful in a way. It's causing people to become more and more disconnected from others. Used to be if you had a fight or a problem with someone, the only way you could tell them how you felt was to call them or see them in person. Then, of course, you had to work up the nerve to tell them whatever you had to say "directly" to them. Usually during the course of getting up your nerve, you would calm down and either get over it or have a much more civil conversation in the long run. Now, thanks to technology, you can write whatever you want whenever you want and put it out for whoever you want to see it. In fact, I know several people who only confront people they have issues with over email. EMAIL? Of course, when they see them in person they act as if all is well as good. I've even had it happen to me. Angry parents emailing me, my principal, my superintendent over their outrage that I gave little Johnny that particular grade. How I'm not fit to teach...barely fit to be in the same room as a child. Then they wake up the next morning all calm and realize they just over-reacted. Now they expect to go on as if nothing had ever happened. But something did. Those words hurt, and true or not, now I'm under the microscope because you decided to act like a little brat. And unlike a letter that you could rip up, throw away, burn, and never see again...some things on your computer are there forever, whether you like it or not.
Then there's the power technology has given to bullying. When I was growing up, the worst bullying could be was the snotty cheerleaders or football players spreading rumors about you through the hallway. And it hurt too. But you and your friends would just spend your weekends making fun of them behind their backs, trying to ignore it at school, and move on. Now there's hate sites and pages and mass emails where people you don't even know can jump on the "you suck" band wagon. As if high school isn't challenging enough for some kids, let's add all that fuel to an already huge fire. I would not want to be a teenager today. I worry how things like this will be for my daughter when she gets there. Hopefully not like they are now...
So where did that personal connection with people go? What happened to writing? For so many years that was people's main form of communicating...and now...it seems to have vanished. What would the world be like if we went back to that? What would your life be like if you had to shut off the comuter, power down the Blackberry, turn off the IPhone and actually write? Could you even remember how?
Growing up I used to write a lot. Ironically, most of the stories I've written have been on the computer. Thanks to my mom's job in the IT world, we've had a computer at our house since there was such a thing. Our first one was the big beige box with a black screen and green typing. When you booted up, you saw C:// (and you had to know what to do with it or you weren't getting anywhere). Back then you actually had to know something about computers to navigate them. You still had to be smarter than the computer in order to use it. Looking back, I think the only reason I wrote most of my stories on the computer was because I've always typed faster than I can write. The pen has never been very good at keeping up with the thoughts that go zooming through my head, but my fingers proved to be much more successful. Still...I wrote a lot too!
I had pen pals. Actual pen pals. Several of them. It was always so exciting to be to pull out my pretty stationary and a neat looking pen, maybe a sticker or two, and write a letter to someone. Sometimes it was a friend. Other times it was a family member. Either way, I loved writing down the accounts of my life to share with someone who I knew gave a crap. More exciting though was going to the mailbox every day in anticipation of a return letter. Then the day that a letter for me arrived! WOW! Getting mail used to feel closer to Christmas. Now with the only mail I get coming in the forms of junk or bills...that little flutter of excitement I used to get running to the mailbox has long since disappeared. So much so that checking the mail is one of my least favorite things to do...and a task I try to pawn off on my husband as often as possible.
It saddens me a bit that this is the way the world is turning. Don't get me wrong...I'm ALL about the everyday tasks in which technology makes ten times easier. I love being able to shop in my PJs or watch a movie in my underwear by the glow of my computer screen. But it's also becoming very harmful in a way. It's causing people to become more and more disconnected from others. Used to be if you had a fight or a problem with someone, the only way you could tell them how you felt was to call them or see them in person. Then, of course, you had to work up the nerve to tell them whatever you had to say "directly" to them. Usually during the course of getting up your nerve, you would calm down and either get over it or have a much more civil conversation in the long run. Now, thanks to technology, you can write whatever you want whenever you want and put it out for whoever you want to see it. In fact, I know several people who only confront people they have issues with over email. EMAIL? Of course, when they see them in person they act as if all is well as good. I've even had it happen to me. Angry parents emailing me, my principal, my superintendent over their outrage that I gave little Johnny that particular grade. How I'm not fit to teach...barely fit to be in the same room as a child. Then they wake up the next morning all calm and realize they just over-reacted. Now they expect to go on as if nothing had ever happened. But something did. Those words hurt, and true or not, now I'm under the microscope because you decided to act like a little brat. And unlike a letter that you could rip up, throw away, burn, and never see again...some things on your computer are there forever, whether you like it or not.
Then there's the power technology has given to bullying. When I was growing up, the worst bullying could be was the snotty cheerleaders or football players spreading rumors about you through the hallway. And it hurt too. But you and your friends would just spend your weekends making fun of them behind their backs, trying to ignore it at school, and move on. Now there's hate sites and pages and mass emails where people you don't even know can jump on the "you suck" band wagon. As if high school isn't challenging enough for some kids, let's add all that fuel to an already huge fire. I would not want to be a teenager today. I worry how things like this will be for my daughter when she gets there. Hopefully not like they are now...
So where did that personal connection with people go? What happened to writing? For so many years that was people's main form of communicating...and now...it seems to have vanished. What would the world be like if we went back to that? What would your life be like if you had to shut off the comuter, power down the Blackberry, turn off the IPhone and actually write? Could you even remember how?
Saturday, July 2, 2011
I Meet ALL the Crazies!
I've always known there are crazies in this world. Before I had a baby, I would run into them occasionally. I'd met ones like the woman in the grocery store who turns her nose up at your cart when it isn't FULL of organic purchases, the woman in the department store who gives you "the look" when you've tried on something too small or too "young" for you, and and the woman (who is dressed to the nines) that you always see when your out running errands in gym clothes with your hair plastered to your head who just makes you feel like even more of a slob. Jeez...why are all these people women? They were always there, but to be perfectly honest...they didn't bother me and I didn't bother them. We both went about our merry little ways.
Then I got pregnant. All the women in my life that had ever been pregnant before started to bombard me with all the crazies stories. I heard about them all. People rubbing your belly without asking. People asking when you are due and what you are having. People asking personal questions about your pregnancy like your weight gain or how you plan on giving birth. Now these are all semi-normal conversations to have with people in your life that you are closest too...but I was being warned that I would experience this with strangers. One woman I taught with even rehashed her worst horror story where a woman actually crossed a street of traffic to corner her in one of these uncomfortable moments. (Again...why are ALL these people women??) I was mortified by these stories! Every time I left the house I was afraid of running into one of these people and (depending on the content and forcefulness of the conversation) causing a scene in the middle of wherever I was. And I did NOT want to be THAT pregnant lady.
But then a strange thing happened...I didn't meet any of them. Not one crazy my whole pregnancy! I had a few people ask me when I was due as I waited in the checkout line, but even that didn't happen until my last month when it was obvious the bulge in my belly wasn't from one too many cheeseburgers. No strange people rubbing my belly. No crazies telling me about the beauty of childbirth. (Though I did meet all kinds of women who LOVED being pregnant and thought it was the best time in their lives...me not so much.) I'm not sure what it was, but the crazies stayed away and I didn't ask any questions. Of course in the crazies staying away, I also got no nice help from strangers when I needed it...but that's a small price to pay to keep the loonies at bay! I thought I was home free...
That's when Lila was born. And the crazies came out of the woodwork like an army of ants searching for water. Out of nowhere...there they were...everywhere...all the time. Now here's the funny thing. I never meet them when I'm out by myself. My husband never has the pleasure of running into them when he's out with the baby. But when it's me and her out together, it's like a regular feeding frenzy! Here are some of my experiences with the crazies...
I've enrolled Lila in a baby swim class at the Y. It's really more of an introduction to water, but I wanted to get her started as soon as I could. I've been able to swim ever since I can remember and want the same for her. The first few lessons she was NOT a fan of the pool. In fact, she practically screamed the entire time. Since we have our lessons at the indoor pool, there is always some sort of water aerobics class going on at the other end. There was one lady (who looked like your typical uptight grandmother) who felt it was her business to give me the stink eye about my screaming child for two days straight. You could basically read the "what are you doing to that poor child you horrible, horrible mother" judgement all over her face. So I politely gave her the "you don't want to mess with me" look back and was saved from an actual encounter. Thankfully (for many reasons), Lila is starting to warm up to the water and I can avoid this part of her swim lesson...for now. Crazy #1.
The baby swim class is really a lot of fun. There are four kids, with their moms, we meet four days a week for thirty minutes for two weeks. It's been neat watching all of them each day splashing in the water, singing songs, and floating around. One of the things we do every time is to put your baby on the wall and teach them 1...2...3...JUMP! Our instructor says this is the most important thing to keep consistent as they are learning to swim since a crucial step for them to learn is to not jump into the water without you. So I ask what seemed to be a logical question. If consistency is the important key here, how do you translate that concept to an open water area where their is no wall, like the beach? "Good question," she said. "Let's ask the other moms and see what they think." Here's where I got attacked by one of the other moms as to the age of my child and how she was MUCH to young to go to the beach. Her oldest is four and STILL to young to go to the beach. WOW...ok. I recounted this story to my husband later who said..."You should have told her she's right. After all, woman who live at the beach never have children." Haha. Crazy #2.
It was errand day. Lila and I had our list of places to go and things we needed. First stop...Trader Joe's. (Side note: I LOVE Trader Joe's...more and more every time I go!) I got Lila out of the car, slung my purse over my shoulder, and walked up to the store front to get a cart. When I located a cart, the flap you have to push down in order for your child to sit in the cart was giving me trouble. It took three or four quick attempts to get it to click into place. Then, as I lifted my daughter off my hip to put her in the cart, a woman came sprinting out of the store. "Oh my gosh!" she said. "Do you need help? You look like you're going to drop her you're having so much trouble! Is there anything I can do?!?" I was dumbstruck. It felt like I stood there forever with my mouth open and daughter dangling above the cart in pure shock at the abruptness of this woman. I don't remember what I finally said. Probably something like "we're fine" before I got Lila settled and we went on with our shopping. Of course, she kept one eye on me the whole time I was in the store. Crazy #3.
So that was just THIS week. There isn't a day I go out with my daughter somewhere that I don't run into at least one of them. If we ever meet in a coffee shop one day, I'll be glad to entertain you with a few thousand more stories of people who should be in a padded cell. But sure enough, as we're talking, I'm sure one or two coo-coos will come over to tell me my daughter should be dressed differently, sitting differently, eating differently or something. There...that's it...you've been warned!
Then I got pregnant. All the women in my life that had ever been pregnant before started to bombard me with all the crazies stories. I heard about them all. People rubbing your belly without asking. People asking when you are due and what you are having. People asking personal questions about your pregnancy like your weight gain or how you plan on giving birth. Now these are all semi-normal conversations to have with people in your life that you are closest too...but I was being warned that I would experience this with strangers. One woman I taught with even rehashed her worst horror story where a woman actually crossed a street of traffic to corner her in one of these uncomfortable moments. (Again...why are ALL these people women??) I was mortified by these stories! Every time I left the house I was afraid of running into one of these people and (depending on the content and forcefulness of the conversation) causing a scene in the middle of wherever I was. And I did NOT want to be THAT pregnant lady.
But then a strange thing happened...I didn't meet any of them. Not one crazy my whole pregnancy! I had a few people ask me when I was due as I waited in the checkout line, but even that didn't happen until my last month when it was obvious the bulge in my belly wasn't from one too many cheeseburgers. No strange people rubbing my belly. No crazies telling me about the beauty of childbirth. (Though I did meet all kinds of women who LOVED being pregnant and thought it was the best time in their lives...me not so much.) I'm not sure what it was, but the crazies stayed away and I didn't ask any questions. Of course in the crazies staying away, I also got no nice help from strangers when I needed it...but that's a small price to pay to keep the loonies at bay! I thought I was home free...
That's when Lila was born. And the crazies came out of the woodwork like an army of ants searching for water. Out of nowhere...there they were...everywhere...all the time. Now here's the funny thing. I never meet them when I'm out by myself. My husband never has the pleasure of running into them when he's out with the baby. But when it's me and her out together, it's like a regular feeding frenzy! Here are some of my experiences with the crazies...
I've enrolled Lila in a baby swim class at the Y. It's really more of an introduction to water, but I wanted to get her started as soon as I could. I've been able to swim ever since I can remember and want the same for her. The first few lessons she was NOT a fan of the pool. In fact, she practically screamed the entire time. Since we have our lessons at the indoor pool, there is always some sort of water aerobics class going on at the other end. There was one lady (who looked like your typical uptight grandmother) who felt it was her business to give me the stink eye about my screaming child for two days straight. You could basically read the "what are you doing to that poor child you horrible, horrible mother" judgement all over her face. So I politely gave her the "you don't want to mess with me" look back and was saved from an actual encounter. Thankfully (for many reasons), Lila is starting to warm up to the water and I can avoid this part of her swim lesson...for now. Crazy #1.
The baby swim class is really a lot of fun. There are four kids, with their moms, we meet four days a week for thirty minutes for two weeks. It's been neat watching all of them each day splashing in the water, singing songs, and floating around. One of the things we do every time is to put your baby on the wall and teach them 1...2...3...JUMP! Our instructor says this is the most important thing to keep consistent as they are learning to swim since a crucial step for them to learn is to not jump into the water without you. So I ask what seemed to be a logical question. If consistency is the important key here, how do you translate that concept to an open water area where their is no wall, like the beach? "Good question," she said. "Let's ask the other moms and see what they think." Here's where I got attacked by one of the other moms as to the age of my child and how she was MUCH to young to go to the beach. Her oldest is four and STILL to young to go to the beach. WOW...ok. I recounted this story to my husband later who said..."You should have told her she's right. After all, woman who live at the beach never have children." Haha. Crazy #2.
It was errand day. Lila and I had our list of places to go and things we needed. First stop...Trader Joe's. (Side note: I LOVE Trader Joe's...more and more every time I go!) I got Lila out of the car, slung my purse over my shoulder, and walked up to the store front to get a cart. When I located a cart, the flap you have to push down in order for your child to sit in the cart was giving me trouble. It took three or four quick attempts to get it to click into place. Then, as I lifted my daughter off my hip to put her in the cart, a woman came sprinting out of the store. "Oh my gosh!" she said. "Do you need help? You look like you're going to drop her you're having so much trouble! Is there anything I can do?!?" I was dumbstruck. It felt like I stood there forever with my mouth open and daughter dangling above the cart in pure shock at the abruptness of this woman. I don't remember what I finally said. Probably something like "we're fine" before I got Lila settled and we went on with our shopping. Of course, she kept one eye on me the whole time I was in the store. Crazy #3.
So that was just THIS week. There isn't a day I go out with my daughter somewhere that I don't run into at least one of them. If we ever meet in a coffee shop one day, I'll be glad to entertain you with a few thousand more stories of people who should be in a padded cell. But sure enough, as we're talking, I'm sure one or two coo-coos will come over to tell me my daughter should be dressed differently, sitting differently, eating differently or something. There...that's it...you've been warned!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
A New Look at the Old Testiment
The news has been flooded recently about the win for gay marriage in New York. New York is now one in six states where gay marriage is legal. Through listening to some of the many news stories about this new development, I've noticed that (like most big issues) people are either strongly for or strongly against gay marriage. I, myself, am for gay marriage. Not so gung-ho that I'm going to go to a protest and wave signs, but if you want to get married and have babies (and are financially stable enough to do so), I say go for it. I could really care less who you are or who you choose for your partner in life. I don't want someone telling me who I can or can't marry, so why would I do the same for anyone else?
It's gotten me thinking though. Most people who are against gay marriage say they don't believe in it because of the Bible. They say the Bible says that marriage is between a man and a woman (which it does, granted), so therefore allowing gays to legally marry would somehow be tarnishing the sanctity of marriage. OK, I'm a Christian. I believe in God. But I wonder when was the last time all these anti-gay marriage, Bible quoter's really read the Old Testament. I by no means claim to be an expert on the Bible. I've never read it from cover to cover. But here are two things I know are in there (in my own words, of course).
1- The Bible says that a husband has the right to beat his wife with any object that is smaller in diameter than his thumb (hence...the "rule of thumb").
2- The Bible says that the husband is head of the household, that a woman should be subservient to her husband, that he is "boss".
Now, I don't know about the men out there. I'm sure there are a few who would say they agree with those above conditions and would love nothing more than to have a wife that actually believes them too. BUT...you can't tell me that this political women who are against gay marriage would also agree with the two excerpts above. I can picture it now. Mighty Congresswoman (who shouldn't be working anyway) comes home after a long day only to slip on her pearls, mix her husband a drink, cook him a lovely dinner, and then massage his feet while taking her nightly beating with his switch. Yes, this is an exaggeration. But if you take the Bible literally (as the anti-gay marriage people tend to do) you would get some version of this on a nightly basis with your husband. I'm sure those same people who use the Bible to combat gay marriage would also tell you they were against spousal abuse (which is in the Bible). That's the part that makes me so mad. People who use things when it's to their benefit, but want to turn on their heels when it doesn't work for them anymore. If you're going to be a "Bible-beater" you have to beat the whole thing.
For me, I think the Old Testament should be taken with a grain of salt. There are some good things in there, but you have to remember how long ago it was written. Things change, society changes, people change. It should be used as an outline, not the iron clad law of your life. Would be an interesting topic on John Stewart though...
It's gotten me thinking though. Most people who are against gay marriage say they don't believe in it because of the Bible. They say the Bible says that marriage is between a man and a woman (which it does, granted), so therefore allowing gays to legally marry would somehow be tarnishing the sanctity of marriage. OK, I'm a Christian. I believe in God. But I wonder when was the last time all these anti-gay marriage, Bible quoter's really read the Old Testament. I by no means claim to be an expert on the Bible. I've never read it from cover to cover. But here are two things I know are in there (in my own words, of course).
1- The Bible says that a husband has the right to beat his wife with any object that is smaller in diameter than his thumb (hence...the "rule of thumb").
2- The Bible says that the husband is head of the household, that a woman should be subservient to her husband, that he is "boss".
Now, I don't know about the men out there. I'm sure there are a few who would say they agree with those above conditions and would love nothing more than to have a wife that actually believes them too. BUT...you can't tell me that this political women who are against gay marriage would also agree with the two excerpts above. I can picture it now. Mighty Congresswoman (who shouldn't be working anyway) comes home after a long day only to slip on her pearls, mix her husband a drink, cook him a lovely dinner, and then massage his feet while taking her nightly beating with his switch. Yes, this is an exaggeration. But if you take the Bible literally (as the anti-gay marriage people tend to do) you would get some version of this on a nightly basis with your husband. I'm sure those same people who use the Bible to combat gay marriage would also tell you they were against spousal abuse (which is in the Bible). That's the part that makes me so mad. People who use things when it's to their benefit, but want to turn on their heels when it doesn't work for them anymore. If you're going to be a "Bible-beater" you have to beat the whole thing.
For me, I think the Old Testament should be taken with a grain of salt. There are some good things in there, but you have to remember how long ago it was written. Things change, society changes, people change. It should be used as an outline, not the iron clad law of your life. Would be an interesting topic on John Stewart though...
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Holy CRAP...I'm a NJ Housewife
I LOVE all the "Real Housewives" shows on Bravo. If I could, I would watch them everyday. Up until recently I watched all of them except Atlanta and New Jersey. Atlanta was just a bit to much for me...and I somehow felt the mob would come after me for watching New Jersey. My husband says to me all the time, "How can you watch that? It's horrible!" That's the point! It is horrible. Most of the women are not "real" nor are they "housewives" by the traditional description of the word. But I love watching them. It makes me feel normal. Like whatever is going on in my life isn't so bad.
I got sucked into watching the New Jersey version this season. I overheard two women talking about it in a check out line at Target (hello, my name is Andie, and I'm an eavesdropper). They kept going on and on about a brawl at a christening. Well, I couldn't resist. I had to find out what was SO bad that a full on fight could break out at such a holy event as a christening. And that's all it took. One episode. I was hooked. Then it happened. The more I watched, the more I realized. This is my family, on steroids.
So here's the quick version of what's happened on the show. Teresa and her brother Joe used to be really close. Joe is married to Melissa and Teresa is married to (another) Joe. Apparently, the Joes don't get along...not sure why...and Melissa and Teresa have never been very close. Each one blames the other for this whole thing. So they all got into a huge fight at a family christening and no one talks to one another. Teresa has reached out in the form of a letter...actually sat down and spoke to her brother...and as the last episode stopped, was sitting down to talk to Melissa. I think that's all the high points.
Now, here's my family. Tim and his sister used to be really close. Tim is married to me (of course) and his sister is married as well. Tim and his brother-in-law just don't see eye to eye on things, so they've never been real buddy-buddy. Me and my sister-in-law had always gotten along, but were never really close just because we didn't seem to have that much in common. She and her husband has already started a family, which (until about a year ago) just meant we were in different places in our lives. Tim and his brother-in-law got into a HUGE fight last year (won't go into details) and no one's done a whole lot of talking since. I've tried occasionally to get everyone together, or at the very least the wives and kids...but nothing ever seems to come of it. I get a lot of the "that sounds great" followed by ignored texts or unreturned phone calls. Seems like every time it gets brought up I hear the "I'm sorry" but nothing seems to change.
So...there are a lot of similarities. I find myself glued to each episode now almost looking for advice (as CRAZY as that sounds). But, hey, if they could fix things surely we could too. I just don't have a clue as to how or where to start. It breaks my heart that we all live in the same city and hardly see each other. I miss seeing my niece and nephew. But besides that, it KILLS me that my daughter may not have the relationship that she deserves with her cousins because the adults in the situation can't get along. I wonder what happened to faking it for the kids, so to speak. I wonder, sadly, if this bothers anyone else but me. It would be a very disappointing thing to find out that the other parties involved were fine with the relationships we have, but at least it would be a truthful answer. That's one of the things that stings the most, telling me you want something that you clearly don't. I'm a big girl. I can take the truth. Guess I have to wait until Sunday to see how the rest of the NJ conversation plays out. I'll be sure to take notes along the way!
I got sucked into watching the New Jersey version this season. I overheard two women talking about it in a check out line at Target (hello, my name is Andie, and I'm an eavesdropper). They kept going on and on about a brawl at a christening. Well, I couldn't resist. I had to find out what was SO bad that a full on fight could break out at such a holy event as a christening. And that's all it took. One episode. I was hooked. Then it happened. The more I watched, the more I realized. This is my family, on steroids.
So here's the quick version of what's happened on the show. Teresa and her brother Joe used to be really close. Joe is married to Melissa and Teresa is married to (another) Joe. Apparently, the Joes don't get along...not sure why...and Melissa and Teresa have never been very close. Each one blames the other for this whole thing. So they all got into a huge fight at a family christening and no one talks to one another. Teresa has reached out in the form of a letter...actually sat down and spoke to her brother...and as the last episode stopped, was sitting down to talk to Melissa. I think that's all the high points.
Now, here's my family. Tim and his sister used to be really close. Tim is married to me (of course) and his sister is married as well. Tim and his brother-in-law just don't see eye to eye on things, so they've never been real buddy-buddy. Me and my sister-in-law had always gotten along, but were never really close just because we didn't seem to have that much in common. She and her husband has already started a family, which (until about a year ago) just meant we were in different places in our lives. Tim and his brother-in-law got into a HUGE fight last year (won't go into details) and no one's done a whole lot of talking since. I've tried occasionally to get everyone together, or at the very least the wives and kids...but nothing ever seems to come of it. I get a lot of the "that sounds great" followed by ignored texts or unreturned phone calls. Seems like every time it gets brought up I hear the "I'm sorry" but nothing seems to change.
So...there are a lot of similarities. I find myself glued to each episode now almost looking for advice (as CRAZY as that sounds). But, hey, if they could fix things surely we could too. I just don't have a clue as to how or where to start. It breaks my heart that we all live in the same city and hardly see each other. I miss seeing my niece and nephew. But besides that, it KILLS me that my daughter may not have the relationship that she deserves with her cousins because the adults in the situation can't get along. I wonder what happened to faking it for the kids, so to speak. I wonder, sadly, if this bothers anyone else but me. It would be a very disappointing thing to find out that the other parties involved were fine with the relationships we have, but at least it would be a truthful answer. That's one of the things that stings the most, telling me you want something that you clearly don't. I'm a big girl. I can take the truth. Guess I have to wait until Sunday to see how the rest of the NJ conversation plays out. I'll be sure to take notes along the way!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
I guess I am getting old...
Let me begin with the statement that I LOVE XM radio! I've always been a music lover, constantly had the radio on, but had no patience what-so-ever with commercials. Especially considering that all the radio stations went on break at the same time. Got to love that marketing technique. Can't get away from the ads if you try. So what does this have to do with getting old...
I grew up in a small NC town. I had one of those red My First Sony radios in my room that could only pick up two stations clearly, a country station and an "oldies" station (you know...50s, 60s, 70s). Every morning while we were getting ready for school, having breakfast and what-not, my mom would put on the radio for us to listen to. She always turned it to that same oldies station since that was the music she liked to listen to. Everywhere we went, the car radio was always playing either oldies or beach music...good 'ole Motown or classic rock. It wasn't until I was in late elementary school when I went on a trip with a friend and her family that I ever realized there was such a thing as "pop" music (the good stuff from the late 80s and early 90s which you can only appreciate if you grew up during that time). So....the point of that is....I was raised on the music my parents grew up listening to and continue to listen to it to this day. Now...finally...here comes my point...
The other day as I was driving, I tuned the radio to XM Classic Rewind. This wonderful channel usually plays 70s rock tunes and makes wonderful driving music. Except, that particular day it wasn't playing 70s music, it was playing 80s music. And not early 80s music, LATE 80s music with some early 90s mixed here and there. I couldn't believe it! 80s and 90s music is now considered "Classic Rewind"?!? I found myself feeling very old...ancient really. Here was music that I remember debuting on the radio and seeing on MTV (you know, back when they did play music videos) and now it's considered a classic? When I got home I shared this story with my husband. His reaction was very much unlike mine. He just looked at me and said, "Well, it is music from twenty years ago." That's when it hit me...it really was twenty years ago when I was first sitting in front of the TV watching these videos on the screen. Wow...doesn't seem that long ago.
It's a strange thing to me, getting older. I am by no means old in most people's books. Still, there are days when I really feel it. Those days when the "to-do" list is a mile long and I cannot seem to be able to put a dent in it. Those days when I stare at the clock until all hours of the morning, not being able to sleep, just to be awoken by a baby cry as soon as I nod off. Those days when I hit the gym to take a step class that I used to breeze through all the time just to come away from it hardly being able to walk the next day. Those days are made especially difficult as I remember the days I used to complete with ease. Spending hours in class, then the dance studio, then work, only to come home to write an eloquent paper, run some errands or shop, stay up til 4am for no real reason, sleep two hours and do it all the next day...without ever breaking a sweat! That after all, used to be an easy day for me! Now remembering that only makes me feel like a little old lady before my time.
The flip side to all that is that I don't mentally feel the age I really am. I argue with myself all the time that I now have limits, and responsibilities I never had to worry about before. That's it's ok if I can't do what I used to be able to do, because I'm not the person I used to be anymore. I just have to repeat that to myself over and over again when I start to get down on myself that I can't "run" like I did in my twenties any more. Maybe sometime in the next ten years I'll find a way to accept that is the truth.
I grew up in a small NC town. I had one of those red My First Sony radios in my room that could only pick up two stations clearly, a country station and an "oldies" station (you know...50s, 60s, 70s). Every morning while we were getting ready for school, having breakfast and what-not, my mom would put on the radio for us to listen to. She always turned it to that same oldies station since that was the music she liked to listen to. Everywhere we went, the car radio was always playing either oldies or beach music...good 'ole Motown or classic rock. It wasn't until I was in late elementary school when I went on a trip with a friend and her family that I ever realized there was such a thing as "pop" music (the good stuff from the late 80s and early 90s which you can only appreciate if you grew up during that time). So....the point of that is....I was raised on the music my parents grew up listening to and continue to listen to it to this day. Now...finally...here comes my point...
The other day as I was driving, I tuned the radio to XM Classic Rewind. This wonderful channel usually plays 70s rock tunes and makes wonderful driving music. Except, that particular day it wasn't playing 70s music, it was playing 80s music. And not early 80s music, LATE 80s music with some early 90s mixed here and there. I couldn't believe it! 80s and 90s music is now considered "Classic Rewind"?!? I found myself feeling very old...ancient really. Here was music that I remember debuting on the radio and seeing on MTV (you know, back when they did play music videos) and now it's considered a classic? When I got home I shared this story with my husband. His reaction was very much unlike mine. He just looked at me and said, "Well, it is music from twenty years ago." That's when it hit me...it really was twenty years ago when I was first sitting in front of the TV watching these videos on the screen. Wow...doesn't seem that long ago.
It's a strange thing to me, getting older. I am by no means old in most people's books. Still, there are days when I really feel it. Those days when the "to-do" list is a mile long and I cannot seem to be able to put a dent in it. Those days when I stare at the clock until all hours of the morning, not being able to sleep, just to be awoken by a baby cry as soon as I nod off. Those days when I hit the gym to take a step class that I used to breeze through all the time just to come away from it hardly being able to walk the next day. Those days are made especially difficult as I remember the days I used to complete with ease. Spending hours in class, then the dance studio, then work, only to come home to write an eloquent paper, run some errands or shop, stay up til 4am for no real reason, sleep two hours and do it all the next day...without ever breaking a sweat! That after all, used to be an easy day for me! Now remembering that only makes me feel like a little old lady before my time.
The flip side to all that is that I don't mentally feel the age I really am. I argue with myself all the time that I now have limits, and responsibilities I never had to worry about before. That's it's ok if I can't do what I used to be able to do, because I'm not the person I used to be anymore. I just have to repeat that to myself over and over again when I start to get down on myself that I can't "run" like I did in my twenties any more. Maybe sometime in the next ten years I'll find a way to accept that is the truth.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Maybe this will help...
I've been having a hard time falling asleep for the last few nights. This really isn't surprising. It seems to happen every couple of weeks that I will have one or two nights that I just can't seem to get settled. So I get up, make myself a cup of Sleepytime tea and do some brainless activity like watching bad tv, checking my email, looking at facebook or other random websites until I can barely keep my eyes open any more. Then I finally fall asleep...until my sweet baby girl wakes me up and the day starts over again. This is night three this week...in a row...not been fun. So instead of a mindless activity tonight, I thought I would try writing. Now I'm here with my Sleepytime tea just typing.
The strange thing is that usually on nights like these there seems to be some sort of reason why I can't sleep. There's something on my mind, something I'm worried about or think I'll forget to do. I've always found it funny that I never get up and try to take care of "said thing" but only continue to obsess about it until I get to tired to think any more. Tonight there doesn't seem to be anything. My mind feels like it's racing but I'm not actually thinking about anything. I gave up trying to figure out what was on my mind because it wasn't coming clear and only seemed to be making the situation worse. It's like there's a hamster on a wheel spinning around in my head. Except, no hamster, just a spinning wheel with no logical reason why it's still turning. And yet, it does. It's a very odd thing.
On another note, the house seems to be coming along more and more. I have to keep telling myself that because even though I can see the progress with my own eyes, it still doesn't feel like I'm accomplishing anything. I was giving the suggestion to write down the things I'd done at the end of the day. Sort of like an acknowledgement to myself. Something tangible I could look at and say "see all the great work you did today! Good job!" I think the thing that scares me about doing something like that is that I have a feeling it would turn into more of a "that's it? That's all you got done?" I know everyone says that they are their own worst critic, and I KNOW that's true in my case. But I have got to find a way to take it easier on myself. Find some way of giving myself a pat on the back sometimes instead of waiting around for other people to do it for me. I guess the question then becomes, after 30 years of getting down on myself, how do you begin to turn it around?
I am proud of one thing though. I've cornered off part of a room upstairs where I can do "crafty" things. I've been making Lila's baby book along with a few other projects for my dad and Tim for Father's Day. I really enjoy making things. Now I have a spot in the house, with a table and everything, to work. Bye, bye to the days of trying to put together some creation sprawled out across a bed. I have a place, a work space, put together...and I'm happy it's there. I give myself a little "gold star" for that one. And, maybe, that's a start.
The strange thing is that usually on nights like these there seems to be some sort of reason why I can't sleep. There's something on my mind, something I'm worried about or think I'll forget to do. I've always found it funny that I never get up and try to take care of "said thing" but only continue to obsess about it until I get to tired to think any more. Tonight there doesn't seem to be anything. My mind feels like it's racing but I'm not actually thinking about anything. I gave up trying to figure out what was on my mind because it wasn't coming clear and only seemed to be making the situation worse. It's like there's a hamster on a wheel spinning around in my head. Except, no hamster, just a spinning wheel with no logical reason why it's still turning. And yet, it does. It's a very odd thing.
On another note, the house seems to be coming along more and more. I have to keep telling myself that because even though I can see the progress with my own eyes, it still doesn't feel like I'm accomplishing anything. I was giving the suggestion to write down the things I'd done at the end of the day. Sort of like an acknowledgement to myself. Something tangible I could look at and say "see all the great work you did today! Good job!" I think the thing that scares me about doing something like that is that I have a feeling it would turn into more of a "that's it? That's all you got done?" I know everyone says that they are their own worst critic, and I KNOW that's true in my case. But I have got to find a way to take it easier on myself. Find some way of giving myself a pat on the back sometimes instead of waiting around for other people to do it for me. I guess the question then becomes, after 30 years of getting down on myself, how do you begin to turn it around?
I am proud of one thing though. I've cornered off part of a room upstairs where I can do "crafty" things. I've been making Lila's baby book along with a few other projects for my dad and Tim for Father's Day. I really enjoy making things. Now I have a spot in the house, with a table and everything, to work. Bye, bye to the days of trying to put together some creation sprawled out across a bed. I have a place, a work space, put together...and I'm happy it's there. I give myself a little "gold star" for that one. And, maybe, that's a start.
Monday, May 30, 2011
So this is a blog...
Two years ago my husband, Tim, and I spent two weeks traveling across Ireland to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. During the trip, I kept a travel journal (as many people do). I wrote in it every day recounting our adventures, people we met and various thoughts on things. About a month ago we moved into a new house. I found in one of the many boxes this same journal. So this week, we've been reading an entry a night. Sort of reliving our journey through the stories I told. It's been one of my favorite parts of the day. Listening to stories of the people we met, places we went and memories we've made. What a strange and wonderful experience it has been. I am reading words that are written in a way so that they no longer seem like my own but like that of a really great storyteller. It really makes me want to go back...and...that's when it hit me...
I used to do this all the time! Write...all the time...all kinds of things. Stories. Poems. Sayings. Rants. Anything I could think of...and I loved it. Somewhere hidden away I still have the first story I ever wrote about an ostrich named Jobeana that ran away to Africa when she thought her friends forgot her birthday. Strange, but hey, I was a creative child. I've wanted to get back in the habit of writing again, but I how to start or what to write about. I used to have ideas flow out of my head constantly. I couldn't write them down fast enough. Now, not so much. Then Tim suggested that I start a blog. A blog? Me? There would be the same problem. How do I start? What do I write about? Would anybody ever read it? Would that really matter? Did I really care if anyone read it? I have a friend that blogs, but she has a topic. Me, I got...nothing.
Wait...nothing? That's it! NOTHING!! I can write about nothing, or something, or anything. After all it is my blog and I can do with it what I want! There used to be a pretty successful sitcom about nothing and people loved it. Well, I HATED it but I think I was the only one. I think I can move past that one similarity long enough to get into this and actually enjoy myself. Either way, I'm diving in...head first...and writing again. Blogging away about whatever I feel like talking about. Enjoy...or don't. It doesn't matter. I know I'm going to enjoy it. And that's the only thing that matters!
I used to do this all the time! Write...all the time...all kinds of things. Stories. Poems. Sayings. Rants. Anything I could think of...and I loved it. Somewhere hidden away I still have the first story I ever wrote about an ostrich named Jobeana that ran away to Africa when she thought her friends forgot her birthday. Strange, but hey, I was a creative child. I've wanted to get back in the habit of writing again, but I how to start or what to write about. I used to have ideas flow out of my head constantly. I couldn't write them down fast enough. Now, not so much. Then Tim suggested that I start a blog. A blog? Me? There would be the same problem. How do I start? What do I write about? Would anybody ever read it? Would that really matter? Did I really care if anyone read it? I have a friend that blogs, but she has a topic. Me, I got...nothing.
Wait...nothing? That's it! NOTHING!! I can write about nothing, or something, or anything. After all it is my blog and I can do with it what I want! There used to be a pretty successful sitcom about nothing and people loved it. Well, I HATED it but I think I was the only one. I think I can move past that one similarity long enough to get into this and actually enjoy myself. Either way, I'm diving in...head first...and writing again. Blogging away about whatever I feel like talking about. Enjoy...or don't. It doesn't matter. I know I'm going to enjoy it. And that's the only thing that matters!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)