I'm taking a cue from my ultra talented and super duper supportive author friend Jessika Fleck's blog post today and outing myself. I'm officially telling you all that I've decided to write a book. Or, I'm at least going to use the goal of writing a book as a way to really learn how to write. I admit I think I have a natural knack for it but I really want to take the time to learn some legit skills in order to be able to get more out of my writing and perhaps even take it somewhere someday. I love blogging but I'm getting the feeling that if I put my mind to it, I may just be able to do something a little more special than just rambling whenever I happen to feel inspired.
Since deciding to do this about a week or two ago, I've tried to talk myself out of it at least 10 times because this is what I do....It's what I did in high school when I quit playing the saxophone even though I was pretty good at it in junior high. I was afraid I would try out for jazz band (which I really wanted to be in) and fail, so I didn't even audition. That was the end of my sax career. I still remember the look of disappointment on the face of my junior high music teacher when I told him I was quitting....It's what I did when I quit singing and playing the piano after high school. I was afraid of playing and singing in front of people I hadn't known all my life because I was sure they would be able to see that I wasn't totally polished. So, I didn't seek out the music world in college and fell into partying and not giving a shit instead. If I was drunk enough I'd occasionally play guitar and sing for my closest college friends but that's as far as I took my music career.... It's what I did when I quit acting. I was afraid of almost everything with that one, but mostly afraid of never getting cast in anything and if I did get cast in something, getting terrible reviews. So I quit... I've always felt okay with these paths ending because I had an absolute blast along the one I did take: the incredible experiences working backstage (which I still have a huge hankering to return to) and just the small fact that if I hadn't taken the path I took, I never would have met Nathan and ended up with this family I adore to no end.
However, I do sometimes feel a loss when I think of those things I quit along the way. Deep down in the depths of my consciousness (so deep that I'd have never admitted it out loud at the time) I knew I had talent. If I'd only been patient and plodded along, learning from mistakes and living without fear of failure and judgement then any of those talents could have blossomed into something really special. Instead, they are simply truncated hobbies...they are buds that never got the chance to open up and show their most brilliant colors because I threw away my watering can. At this point in my life I can admit I think that's a shame even though I love where my life has led me.
So here I am telling you that I'm not going to quit this time. I feel a spark in there somewhere and I'm buying a new watering can. My friends Jessika Fleck and Kristi Pikiewicz are giving me guidance from the inside track and I'm finding out about a bunch of cool ways you can get your name and writing out there in cyber world. I am working on finding an existing, popular website that might be willing to give me a "blog home" or allow me to be a "guest blogger" with the goal of publishing this book I'm apparently writing bit by bit so I can get feedback as I go and maybe even a following. If I achieve that goal, when I do finish the book (just so you know, I do feel a little--I mean a LOT--ridiculous saying that) I can try and sell myself by showing them that people have responded well to what I've put out there.
Anyway, here we go! Support and encouragement are most welcome at this point!
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
Through the eyes of my present self
I felt compelled recently to go back to the very beginning of my blog and read it without judgement. I promised myself I would treat the old me with kindness and patience. I made a deal with myself that as soon as I started to feel my eyes roll, I would stop reading and pick it up in the same place on a different day, patience and kindness renewed. This is no small task for little ol' me, let me tell you. I usually re-read my posts many times immediately after I hit the "publish" button because I know that it won't be long before I can't stand what I've written. I don't know why this happens but it does and all I can say is that I'm working on it, I promise.
So I started from "A beginning...." and took my time. I was happy to see that I wasn't completely mortified and actually found some stuff I'm proud of in there. The most interesting thing I came to realize was that I have changed a lot over these last couple of years, but also haven't changed a bit. In those early days when Owen was tiny and not sleeping much, I was doing a lot of masking but I was also trying to be as honest as I possibly could. I was searching for distraction while trying to live in the moment. I was complaining and venting while putting a positive spin on difficult situations. This is still "my way" but I like to think that I'm taking up a little more space in my world now...trying to apologize less and trust my confidence. Learning to stop feeling embarrassed by my accomplishments...respect my limitations and forgive my weaknesses.
I'm telling you all of this because I don't know if you've noticed me changing. You may or may not miss my stories about the kids or my heart felt pleas for support. I've been going along assuming you either understand or haven't noticed but I wanted to mention it anyway. I wanted you to know that I miss the days when Zoe would say something funny or do something to drive me crazy and I would give myself time to mull whatever it was over enough to articulate it in a post. Owen has come into his own hilarious personality and I feel a bit of remorse and guilt for missing opportunities to honor his little personality with musings and interpretations from his tired, loving mother. At the same time though, I feel grateful that I seem to be getting better about living those moments with both kids privately. I can't assume that either one of them will grow into adults who appreciate how much I talked publicly about them and I get the feeling that in taking so many pictures and crafting posts around private moments I'm somehow losing little bits of the preciousness in this time with my kids.
The truth is that I share all of this stuff for many reasons, but one of the main reasons is that I hope it will help me remember this time more clearly. I know that there will come a day when I can't remember what their voices sounded like exactly. I will forget what it feels like to sit inches away from Owen's face while he tells me a story, his bright innocent eyes earnestly focused in on my bleary ones. I know I will forget how hilarious it is to hear Zoe trying out new "grown up" phrases and concepts before she really knows what they mean. I know I will forget these little things that make him who he is at 2.5 years old and her who she is at 5.5 years old and it makes me feel all panicky.
However, I've been given some insight into this personal struggle on my early morning runs these last few weeks. I'm training for a marathon in October and have been getting up with the sun for most of my runs and even earlier for my long runs. I tend to run in different combinations of loops around the city because a) it's easy to find bathroom stops that way and b) I like to witness life happening around me as I trudge along...it's what keeps me energized and many times has given me extra pep in my step just when I was about to give up and walk. I feel inspired by seeing people live their lives.. passing by a barista unlocking the coffee shop door reminds me that I am one of many people living their lives every day, doing their best. None of us are particularly extraordinary every single day. Sometimes I need to remind myself of that so I can stop putting so much pressure on myself to be "at my best" all the time.
Twice in these last couple of weeks, I've run by new mothers doing the early morning pace with their tiny babies. One of these mothers was pacing the street in front of her house in her slippers and the other on a deserted pedestrian shopping mall with a cup of coffee in her hand. Both had total bedheads, were dressed in their pj's and had that far off, "I've been up all night with this baby" look in their eyes. As I ran past both of them, I tried my best to give them a reassuring look and some encouraging supportive words but I hesitated because I realized I couldn't help but to do those things with a hint of nostalgia...the exact tone someone in their position tends to loath. When you're in the middle of that stage, the last thing you want to hear is: "Enjoy them while they are that tiny!". I know, I was there. I realized in those moments that I had forgotten about those early morning "We are the only 2 people on this earth" walks with my babies. It wasn't that long ago but somehow I'd forgotten about it. I realized I don't have to stress so much about getting all of this stuff down myself because sometimes memories are sparked by witnessing other people living life. It happens to me when I listen to music and smell specific smells and now it happens when I see other parents doing the same things I used to do with my kids. It's a relief to know that sometimes you can trust memories to come back when you least expect them. In the end, that's when reliving them is the most fun anyway.
So I started from "A beginning...." and took my time. I was happy to see that I wasn't completely mortified and actually found some stuff I'm proud of in there. The most interesting thing I came to realize was that I have changed a lot over these last couple of years, but also haven't changed a bit. In those early days when Owen was tiny and not sleeping much, I was doing a lot of masking but I was also trying to be as honest as I possibly could. I was searching for distraction while trying to live in the moment. I was complaining and venting while putting a positive spin on difficult situations. This is still "my way" but I like to think that I'm taking up a little more space in my world now...trying to apologize less and trust my confidence. Learning to stop feeling embarrassed by my accomplishments...respect my limitations and forgive my weaknesses.
I'm telling you all of this because I don't know if you've noticed me changing. You may or may not miss my stories about the kids or my heart felt pleas for support. I've been going along assuming you either understand or haven't noticed but I wanted to mention it anyway. I wanted you to know that I miss the days when Zoe would say something funny or do something to drive me crazy and I would give myself time to mull whatever it was over enough to articulate it in a post. Owen has come into his own hilarious personality and I feel a bit of remorse and guilt for missing opportunities to honor his little personality with musings and interpretations from his tired, loving mother. At the same time though, I feel grateful that I seem to be getting better about living those moments with both kids privately. I can't assume that either one of them will grow into adults who appreciate how much I talked publicly about them and I get the feeling that in taking so many pictures and crafting posts around private moments I'm somehow losing little bits of the preciousness in this time with my kids.
The truth is that I share all of this stuff for many reasons, but one of the main reasons is that I hope it will help me remember this time more clearly. I know that there will come a day when I can't remember what their voices sounded like exactly. I will forget what it feels like to sit inches away from Owen's face while he tells me a story, his bright innocent eyes earnestly focused in on my bleary ones. I know I will forget how hilarious it is to hear Zoe trying out new "grown up" phrases and concepts before she really knows what they mean. I know I will forget these little things that make him who he is at 2.5 years old and her who she is at 5.5 years old and it makes me feel all panicky.
However, I've been given some insight into this personal struggle on my early morning runs these last few weeks. I'm training for a marathon in October and have been getting up with the sun for most of my runs and even earlier for my long runs. I tend to run in different combinations of loops around the city because a) it's easy to find bathroom stops that way and b) I like to witness life happening around me as I trudge along...it's what keeps me energized and many times has given me extra pep in my step just when I was about to give up and walk. I feel inspired by seeing people live their lives.. passing by a barista unlocking the coffee shop door reminds me that I am one of many people living their lives every day, doing their best. None of us are particularly extraordinary every single day. Sometimes I need to remind myself of that so I can stop putting so much pressure on myself to be "at my best" all the time.
Twice in these last couple of weeks, I've run by new mothers doing the early morning pace with their tiny babies. One of these mothers was pacing the street in front of her house in her slippers and the other on a deserted pedestrian shopping mall with a cup of coffee in her hand. Both had total bedheads, were dressed in their pj's and had that far off, "I've been up all night with this baby" look in their eyes. As I ran past both of them, I tried my best to give them a reassuring look and some encouraging supportive words but I hesitated because I realized I couldn't help but to do those things with a hint of nostalgia...the exact tone someone in their position tends to loath. When you're in the middle of that stage, the last thing you want to hear is: "Enjoy them while they are that tiny!". I know, I was there. I realized in those moments that I had forgotten about those early morning "We are the only 2 people on this earth" walks with my babies. It wasn't that long ago but somehow I'd forgotten about it. I realized I don't have to stress so much about getting all of this stuff down myself because sometimes memories are sparked by witnessing other people living life. It happens to me when I listen to music and smell specific smells and now it happens when I see other parents doing the same things I used to do with my kids. It's a relief to know that sometimes you can trust memories to come back when you least expect them. In the end, that's when reliving them is the most fun anyway.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Hidden Treasure
I'm a pretty good gift giver sometimes, if I do say so myself. I really enjoy thinking carefully about who a person is and especially, what kinds of things they don't realize other people know about them and surprising them with a related gift. I like to think that we all have a treasure box we open when we are alone from time to time to polish, organize or simply gaze in contentedness. I can't always pull it off, but when I'm able to catch a glimpse of someone's treasure box and maybe add to it, it's one of the most satisfying feelings I can think of.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've become inspired to go through that process for myself. I realized that I've opened my mind to the things people I love care about countless times. I've spent a lot of time and loving energy into figuring out how to highlight, acknowledge and honor these people. I will always love doing that and don't plan on giving it a rest, but I'm admitting I've never put that kind of effort into finding out what's in my treasure box, or I haven't in a long time. I used to be better about it when I was younger and had less responsibilities...I had a spot in the woods near the house I grew up in where I could steal away and just sit, soaking up the surroundings...I used to shut myself in my room, lay on the floor with my radio and collection of tapes and listen to my favorite music for hours on end....if I was having a hard day, I would sit at the piano and play all of my favorite songs until I felt better...
It becomes harder as we get older because we have less time, but I'm not floating through life without any interests or deep passions. However, I don't spend enough time honoring those things and trying to figure out how they all meet in the center, with me. I'm not a religious person, but I do believe all living beings on this earth are connected and that there is deep meaning in that connection. I think I'm always finding ways to strengthen those connections and have attempted this by nurturing other people. I'm only just now considering the possibility that these connections can only get so strong if I'm not spending more time polishing the stuff in my own treasure box.
As parents, we've heard over and over again (and nodded our heads in agreement) that by taking care of ourselves, we become better parents and partners. Although I've always believed this to be true, for some reason I don't personally invest the energy into the concept. Now that my kids are getting older though, it's becoming easier to see that there will be life after this one I'm entrenched in. My "after kids" life has always been fuzzy because having kids has been my end goal my entire life. All I ever wanted was to become a mother and somehow I never considered the fact that someday, my kids would be adults and more space would be made for me to think about me again. So...what to do with that?
I've decided to start figuring that out...to open my creaky old treasure box again and polish, organize and gaze in contentedness...I'm excited to see what comes of it.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've become inspired to go through that process for myself. I realized that I've opened my mind to the things people I love care about countless times. I've spent a lot of time and loving energy into figuring out how to highlight, acknowledge and honor these people. I will always love doing that and don't plan on giving it a rest, but I'm admitting I've never put that kind of effort into finding out what's in my treasure box, or I haven't in a long time. I used to be better about it when I was younger and had less responsibilities...I had a spot in the woods near the house I grew up in where I could steal away and just sit, soaking up the surroundings...I used to shut myself in my room, lay on the floor with my radio and collection of tapes and listen to my favorite music for hours on end....if I was having a hard day, I would sit at the piano and play all of my favorite songs until I felt better...
It becomes harder as we get older because we have less time, but I'm not floating through life without any interests or deep passions. However, I don't spend enough time honoring those things and trying to figure out how they all meet in the center, with me. I'm not a religious person, but I do believe all living beings on this earth are connected and that there is deep meaning in that connection. I think I'm always finding ways to strengthen those connections and have attempted this by nurturing other people. I'm only just now considering the possibility that these connections can only get so strong if I'm not spending more time polishing the stuff in my own treasure box.
As parents, we've heard over and over again (and nodded our heads in agreement) that by taking care of ourselves, we become better parents and partners. Although I've always believed this to be true, for some reason I don't personally invest the energy into the concept. Now that my kids are getting older though, it's becoming easier to see that there will be life after this one I'm entrenched in. My "after kids" life has always been fuzzy because having kids has been my end goal my entire life. All I ever wanted was to become a mother and somehow I never considered the fact that someday, my kids would be adults and more space would be made for me to think about me again. So...what to do with that?
I've decided to start figuring that out...to open my creaky old treasure box again and polish, organize and gaze in contentedness...I'm excited to see what comes of it.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Bad Day
At 9am this morning, Zoe had a gargantuan meltdown because her "princess necklace" broke. She uses it every 3 months, but was convinced that it was magical and she was an actual princess because she had the necklace. When we tried to sooth her by saying we could restring it on a stronger string she said the magic had been in the actual string, and that the magic disappeared the moment it broke. She was melting down so loudly that I had to shut her bedroom window so people outside wouldn't think she was dying. I'm sure our immediate neighbors were woken up early, wondering what the hell was going on over here.
She eventually calmed down and I started my recovery process, but had to dig a little because I had a lot I wanted to accomplish today and everything had to happen at an exact time in order for me to pull it off. So, I got right down to business and was really on a roll. I even got the kids out to get their haircut, which wasn't part of the original plan. After haircuts, I found myself cruising along, bread in the oven and dinner on the stove. I was cooking dinner early because our afternoon is full of stuff we have to do outside of the apartment. The dinner I was making not only smelled great but was going to feed us for 2, maybe 3 days so I was feeling really good. I even dared to think to myself "Alright, nice work turning a bad day into a great day!" and the next moment, I wine glass randomly feel out of the cupboard, shattering into tiny pieces all over the counters and floor. I wanted to scream, but instead reminded myself that I could put cooking on hold to clean it up, and keep on cooking after. I had to dump a bowl of spices that had been waiting to be added to the pot of stew on the stove but other than that I thought it was all salvageable. After cleaning the floor, I kept stepping on tiny, unseen pieces of glass so got the vacuum out. After vacuuming the floor and taking a deep breath to move on with the stew, I noticed shards of glass on the stovetop. I stood there for a few minutes trying to decide what the likelihood was of pieces of glass making it's way into the pot too and then realized I couldn't take any chances. I threw away the stew and then cried.
I'm slowly feeling better but am having a hard time shaking the awful feeling that I just wasted 3 days worth of dinners for us. In the end though, I do realize the best thing to do is follow Zoe's sage advice (bestowed upon me in the midst of my tears): "Think of it this way: at least you're not dead!"
Do me a favor and share any similar stories you may have? I'm almost out of the self pity stage but could use a couple of chuckles and "I know how you feel"'s.
She eventually calmed down and I started my recovery process, but had to dig a little because I had a lot I wanted to accomplish today and everything had to happen at an exact time in order for me to pull it off. So, I got right down to business and was really on a roll. I even got the kids out to get their haircut, which wasn't part of the original plan. After haircuts, I found myself cruising along, bread in the oven and dinner on the stove. I was cooking dinner early because our afternoon is full of stuff we have to do outside of the apartment. The dinner I was making not only smelled great but was going to feed us for 2, maybe 3 days so I was feeling really good. I even dared to think to myself "Alright, nice work turning a bad day into a great day!" and the next moment, I wine glass randomly feel out of the cupboard, shattering into tiny pieces all over the counters and floor. I wanted to scream, but instead reminded myself that I could put cooking on hold to clean it up, and keep on cooking after. I had to dump a bowl of spices that had been waiting to be added to the pot of stew on the stove but other than that I thought it was all salvageable. After cleaning the floor, I kept stepping on tiny, unseen pieces of glass so got the vacuum out. After vacuuming the floor and taking a deep breath to move on with the stew, I noticed shards of glass on the stovetop. I stood there for a few minutes trying to decide what the likelihood was of pieces of glass making it's way into the pot too and then realized I couldn't take any chances. I threw away the stew and then cried.
I'm slowly feeling better but am having a hard time shaking the awful feeling that I just wasted 3 days worth of dinners for us. In the end though, I do realize the best thing to do is follow Zoe's sage advice (bestowed upon me in the midst of my tears): "Think of it this way: at least you're not dead!"
Do me a favor and share any similar stories you may have? I'm almost out of the self pity stage but could use a couple of chuckles and "I know how you feel"'s.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Pondering Beets
Everyone has heard, and probably spoken, the phrase "I have too much on my plate right now". I know I've probably said it hundreds of times in my life, but for some reason it's really resonated with me lately. I was talking with a friend...(okay, by "friend" I mean "my therapist" but I'm starting to get worried that I'm becoming "that girl". The one who talks too much about her therapist, annoying everyone she speaks to. So from now on, I'll be referring to "my therapist" as "my friend" so you won't know for sure either way and thus will hopefully not want to kill me every time we have a conversation)... about the concept a few weeks ago and that conversation helped me finally and completely understand what it means. Not only that, but I now see how you can use the visualization in a helpful way. Ever since this conversation with my friend...(ahem), I've been trying to evaluate what exactly is on my plate right now because I know for sure that it's completely full...I'm talking no room for even one scrawny string bean.
So, I started thinking about all of these things on my plate, hoping that I could find some wiggle room: kids, husband, job, Raising Little Heroes, marathon training (did I tell you about that? October 13th, baby!), friends, household chores...Grey's Anatomy (sort of kidding) and before I could finish the inventory, I started feeling overwhelmed because I realized that not one of these things is something I want to or can pass on or even get a smaller helping of. They are all vital to my life and happiness in this moment. I felt frustrated because while I know all of these things are important to me, I couldn't help thinking about the beets growing in my garden....
...our little community garden is doing really well this year. I feel proud of it because over the last 3 years of experimenting I finally feel like I have a handle on it enough to keep it looking nice and to actually harvest and eat the stuff I'm growing. I found a good time to go out and water/weed and I'm enjoying salads and green smoothies made from the stuff I've grown and picked myself. Very gratifying. One of the things that's thriving in that little plot are my beets. I hadn't planned on planting them, but a friend (no, a different one...but that's the last hint I'll give) gave me some seeds and I found some room for them. They were one of the first things to start sprouting and I've been watering them, weeding around them and watching them grow and grow. The greens are lush and they are fun to pick, but they also kind of stress me out. I know you can eat the greens but I haven't had time to experiment with different ways to prepare them. I throw some in salads and smoothies but really want to try cooking them too. I want time to think on it...to ponder...to lovingly soak and wash them 3 times like one website I came across suggested...but I can't find the head space to do it. I finally got around to boiling the actual beets and feel like I have a handle on that part, but I've had to accept the fact that it works best for me right now to just cut off the greens and throw them away. While partly liberating it's also kind of a bummer because I don't want to waste them. I want to figure out what to do with all of them...the whole beet.
The beets have become a symbol of why I am stressed out about how full my plate is. I started thinking to myself: "I just want to find room on the plate for the beets!!". At first I was telling myself it's because I'm too busy and I don't have the time, but then one day I found myself sitting on the lawn behind our apartment with my feet in the kiddie pool, sangria in my hand, good friend by my side sharing a lovely conversation. It looks like I have the time after all, so what is the problem here?
Then I started thinking all I want to do is take my plate, walk over to the garbage, scrape it, wash it and start putting things back on one by one. Thinking about each one, contemplating...before adding the next thing. Not surprisingly I quickly got frustrated with this approach as well because I couldn't choose the first thing--they all wanted to jump right back on at the same time.
Life is hard. I get that. It's hard for everyone and thinking about this stuff isn't going to magically give me a bigger plate (aka: more hours in the day) but I'm hoping being aware of it and thinking on it will help me prioritize a little better and create more head space. Mostly, I'm realizing that what I want most of all is to start with one beet. One beet on an empty, clean plate......I want to see how that feels before figuring out what to add next.
What would you put on your plate first?
So, I started thinking about all of these things on my plate, hoping that I could find some wiggle room: kids, husband, job, Raising Little Heroes, marathon training (did I tell you about that? October 13th, baby!), friends, household chores...Grey's Anatomy (sort of kidding) and before I could finish the inventory, I started feeling overwhelmed because I realized that not one of these things is something I want to or can pass on or even get a smaller helping of. They are all vital to my life and happiness in this moment. I felt frustrated because while I know all of these things are important to me, I couldn't help thinking about the beets growing in my garden....
...our little community garden is doing really well this year. I feel proud of it because over the last 3 years of experimenting I finally feel like I have a handle on it enough to keep it looking nice and to actually harvest and eat the stuff I'm growing. I found a good time to go out and water/weed and I'm enjoying salads and green smoothies made from the stuff I've grown and picked myself. Very gratifying. One of the things that's thriving in that little plot are my beets. I hadn't planned on planting them, but a friend (no, a different one...but that's the last hint I'll give) gave me some seeds and I found some room for them. They were one of the first things to start sprouting and I've been watering them, weeding around them and watching them grow and grow. The greens are lush and they are fun to pick, but they also kind of stress me out. I know you can eat the greens but I haven't had time to experiment with different ways to prepare them. I throw some in salads and smoothies but really want to try cooking them too. I want time to think on it...to ponder...to lovingly soak and wash them 3 times like one website I came across suggested...but I can't find the head space to do it. I finally got around to boiling the actual beets and feel like I have a handle on that part, but I've had to accept the fact that it works best for me right now to just cut off the greens and throw them away. While partly liberating it's also kind of a bummer because I don't want to waste them. I want to figure out what to do with all of them...the whole beet.
The beets have become a symbol of why I am stressed out about how full my plate is. I started thinking to myself: "I just want to find room on the plate for the beets!!". At first I was telling myself it's because I'm too busy and I don't have the time, but then one day I found myself sitting on the lawn behind our apartment with my feet in the kiddie pool, sangria in my hand, good friend by my side sharing a lovely conversation. It looks like I have the time after all, so what is the problem here?
Then I started thinking all I want to do is take my plate, walk over to the garbage, scrape it, wash it and start putting things back on one by one. Thinking about each one, contemplating...before adding the next thing. Not surprisingly I quickly got frustrated with this approach as well because I couldn't choose the first thing--they all wanted to jump right back on at the same time.
Life is hard. I get that. It's hard for everyone and thinking about this stuff isn't going to magically give me a bigger plate (aka: more hours in the day) but I'm hoping being aware of it and thinking on it will help me prioritize a little better and create more head space. Mostly, I'm realizing that what I want most of all is to start with one beet. One beet on an empty, clean plate......I want to see how that feels before figuring out what to add next.
What would you put on your plate first?
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
What you do for a friend.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom called to tell me that my very first friend ever has breast cancer. Kaitlin and I have stayed close ever since we were kids but we have that kind of a friendship where you don't talk for a really long time and then when you finally do, it's like no time has passed. We both feel strongly that ours is one of the best kinds of friendships because we can accept that we are busy in our own separate lives and don't always have time to keep up to date with each other. Neither one of us feels any ounce of guilt or resentment towards the other...only love, support and forever sisterhood. I know this to be true because we frequently check in with each other on the matter to be sure the other person still feels the same way.
After my mom's call, I had a few days of wrestling with some guilt about being out of touch enough to not have heard the news directly from my friend and uncertainty about how exactly to show my support. I got it in my head suddenly that I wanted to go and see her before she started her chemo...which was coming up the next week...in Vermont....I looked up the price of plane tickets and laughed out loud when I saw the cheapest flight. I immediately started brainstorming about how to show my support from afar, but I couldn't get the thought out of my head that I wanted to show up on her doorstep, give her a huge hug and chat the day away like the old days. One day, I was reading to Zoe while Owen napped and was fighting sleep as I read aloud (as happens every single day in the afternoon while reading books to Zoe). At one point, I realized I was still talking/reading out loud even though I had dozed off for a second but instead of saying the words from the book, I heard myself saying "....because that's what you do for a friend".
I decided to put myself out there and email my cousin Kelly, a pilot for jetBlue. Kelly and I keep up with each other on Facebook and shared a rich childhood but I was afraid that he would be put off by my randomly writing for a favor. When we first moved out here to Colorado, Kelly had told me that if I ever found myself in a pinch, needing to get back to the East Coast, he might be able to help me by sharing one of the limited amount of very affordable passes he gets as an employee. He'd warned me that I'd have to be willing to be a flexible traveler, something I'm far from being, especially since having kids. At that time I felt grateful for the offer but sure I'd never take him up on it, so had put it out of my head....until now. So, I sent a somewhat rambling, apologetic message to Kelly explaining the situation and my "pipe dream" and said that I knew it probably wasn't possible but that I would have kicked myself if I didn't at least ask. Kelly almost immediately wrote back saying he would be happy to help and we spent the next week or so calling, messaging and texting each other to work out the details. All this while, Kelly was first on vacation with his family and then traveling for work so he went out of his way big time and I'm so touched, I can't even put how grateful I am into words.
To make a long story short, the formation of this crazy plan went from "there's no way I can pull this off, I don't even know why I'm entertaining the thought" to "wow this is really happening" within a week or so. I was on standby for a red eye flight (11:30pm MT-5:30am EST) Sunday night/Monday morning (which I barely made it onto...if the "Cook Family" hadn't been a no show, I would have had to turn around and go home) and had a car rental reservation waiting for me (thanks to my brother Ike) so I could drive the 3 hours up to Vermont immediately after landing. The plan was to surprise Kaitlin by showing up at her house, hang out with her for the day until my mom got off work at 5pm, go to my mom's to have dinner with her and my sisters, brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews then drive to Ike's house in the Boston area to sleep a bit before heading back to the airport to try and get on a Tuesday morning (8:50am departure) flight. The Tuesday morning flight had me nervous because the next flight out wasn't until that evening. This would mean that I'd have to call on a team of friends/neighbors who were all willing and ready to help with the kids if need be. I knew they were all happy to help but it felt like such a huge favor...luckily I ended up making that flight, after having a near heart attack when the customer service rep there said "Hmmmm...I don't think I have much for you.......I'm sorry......all I have are middle seats." Woohoo!!
Somehow though, this crazy plan actually unfolded exactly as planned. The only thing that didn't play out the way I'd pictured was that Kaitlin ended up finding out I was on my way before I got there. Her mom Dianne had been forced to let the cat out of the bag only when she was left with no other choice. She kept the secret as long as humanly possible and let it out when it was perfectly clear that if she didn't, Kaitlin would not be home when I got there. It didn't matter though--she was still surprised and we were able to spend a really great day together yesterday.
So, thanks again to Kelly for making this possible and for the team (literally) of friends and family who supported the idea and helped make it happen: Nathan, Ike, Wally, Jill, Mom, Rach, Ess, Dianne, Kristi, Clancy, Emily, Gretchen, Rosemary, Charrie and Patty. Kaitlin and I had a really wonderful visit and although I'm still worried about her and wishing I could shower her with casseroles and hand holding during these next weeks of chemo, I feel like I was able to give her some love to carry with her for a bit. Kaitlin blows my mind. She is brave, she is strong, she is honest, she is funny, she is supportive, she is beautiful....you don't want to mess with her honestly because she'll kick your ass if she decides to. So, honestly I'm feeling a little bad for the cancer--it made it's way into the wrong body and she's about to show it who's boss. Go Kaitlin. XOXOXO
To top this awesome trip off, while in Vermont, we found out that our pregnant sister-in-law Katie (coincidence!) was being induced that day and that the baby would be coming soon (they also live in the Boston area). As I drove back to Boston late Monday night I secretly hoped that the baby would magically enter the world as I was on my way so that I could go straight to the hospital to hold him or her for at least a few minutes before heading back to Colorado. I pictured this kooky crazy ending to this kooky crazy trip and admitted that I was now officially pushing my luck. I told Ike about it the next morning and he and I laughed as we talked about how it would have been a perfect "season finale"....all of us ending up in a hospital room together, passing the baby around, being too loud, crowding Katie and Wally, etc. Sure enough though, there was no word about any magical births during my drive. While at the airport in the morning, I looked at my phone at exactly 8:15am and thought "okay, this is it--we'll be boarding in 5 minutes" and knew I'd have to wait until I was home in Colorado to hear the announcement. As soon as we landed, I turned on my cell phone and was greeted with a perfect picture of my picture perfect new little nephew Nicholas Anthony Grabowski, born at 8:16am. Welcome to the world, little guy!
After my mom's call, I had a few days of wrestling with some guilt about being out of touch enough to not have heard the news directly from my friend and uncertainty about how exactly to show my support. I got it in my head suddenly that I wanted to go and see her before she started her chemo...which was coming up the next week...in Vermont....I looked up the price of plane tickets and laughed out loud when I saw the cheapest flight. I immediately started brainstorming about how to show my support from afar, but I couldn't get the thought out of my head that I wanted to show up on her doorstep, give her a huge hug and chat the day away like the old days. One day, I was reading to Zoe while Owen napped and was fighting sleep as I read aloud (as happens every single day in the afternoon while reading books to Zoe). At one point, I realized I was still talking/reading out loud even though I had dozed off for a second but instead of saying the words from the book, I heard myself saying "....because that's what you do for a friend".
I decided to put myself out there and email my cousin Kelly, a pilot for jetBlue. Kelly and I keep up with each other on Facebook and shared a rich childhood but I was afraid that he would be put off by my randomly writing for a favor. When we first moved out here to Colorado, Kelly had told me that if I ever found myself in a pinch, needing to get back to the East Coast, he might be able to help me by sharing one of the limited amount of very affordable passes he gets as an employee. He'd warned me that I'd have to be willing to be a flexible traveler, something I'm far from being, especially since having kids. At that time I felt grateful for the offer but sure I'd never take him up on it, so had put it out of my head....until now. So, I sent a somewhat rambling, apologetic message to Kelly explaining the situation and my "pipe dream" and said that I knew it probably wasn't possible but that I would have kicked myself if I didn't at least ask. Kelly almost immediately wrote back saying he would be happy to help and we spent the next week or so calling, messaging and texting each other to work out the details. All this while, Kelly was first on vacation with his family and then traveling for work so he went out of his way big time and I'm so touched, I can't even put how grateful I am into words.
To make a long story short, the formation of this crazy plan went from "there's no way I can pull this off, I don't even know why I'm entertaining the thought" to "wow this is really happening" within a week or so. I was on standby for a red eye flight (11:30pm MT-5:30am EST) Sunday night/Monday morning (which I barely made it onto...if the "Cook Family" hadn't been a no show, I would have had to turn around and go home) and had a car rental reservation waiting for me (thanks to my brother Ike) so I could drive the 3 hours up to Vermont immediately after landing. The plan was to surprise Kaitlin by showing up at her house, hang out with her for the day until my mom got off work at 5pm, go to my mom's to have dinner with her and my sisters, brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews then drive to Ike's house in the Boston area to sleep a bit before heading back to the airport to try and get on a Tuesday morning (8:50am departure) flight. The Tuesday morning flight had me nervous because the next flight out wasn't until that evening. This would mean that I'd have to call on a team of friends/neighbors who were all willing and ready to help with the kids if need be. I knew they were all happy to help but it felt like such a huge favor...luckily I ended up making that flight, after having a near heart attack when the customer service rep there said "Hmmmm...I don't think I have much for you.......I'm sorry......all I have are middle seats." Woohoo!!
Somehow though, this crazy plan actually unfolded exactly as planned. The only thing that didn't play out the way I'd pictured was that Kaitlin ended up finding out I was on my way before I got there. Her mom Dianne had been forced to let the cat out of the bag only when she was left with no other choice. She kept the secret as long as humanly possible and let it out when it was perfectly clear that if she didn't, Kaitlin would not be home when I got there. It didn't matter though--she was still surprised and we were able to spend a really great day together yesterday.
To top this awesome trip off, while in Vermont, we found out that our pregnant sister-in-law Katie (coincidence!) was being induced that day and that the baby would be coming soon (they also live in the Boston area). As I drove back to Boston late Monday night I secretly hoped that the baby would magically enter the world as I was on my way so that I could go straight to the hospital to hold him or her for at least a few minutes before heading back to Colorado. I pictured this kooky crazy ending to this kooky crazy trip and admitted that I was now officially pushing my luck. I told Ike about it the next morning and he and I laughed as we talked about how it would have been a perfect "season finale"....all of us ending up in a hospital room together, passing the baby around, being too loud, crowding Katie and Wally, etc. Sure enough though, there was no word about any magical births during my drive. While at the airport in the morning, I looked at my phone at exactly 8:15am and thought "okay, this is it--we'll be boarding in 5 minutes" and knew I'd have to wait until I was home in Colorado to hear the announcement. As soon as we landed, I turned on my cell phone and was greeted with a perfect picture of my picture perfect new little nephew Nicholas Anthony Grabowski, born at 8:16am. Welcome to the world, little guy!
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Raising Little Heroes: Greenwood Wildlife Rehabilitation Center
When I woke up this morning I was really, really excited because I'd been looking forward to our Greenwood Wildlife Rehabilitation Center (Longmont, CO) event for about 6 months and today was the day we were able to finally get together and enjoy it. When I initially contacted the center back in December, the volunteer and outreach coordinator was immediately very helpful and excited about our group so she made it easy to set a date and envision what we would be doing on the day of the event (translation if you are me: "no stress"). On top of that, I knew that our RLH kids would be into it since it seems like every kid I meet is head over heels about animals.
The rehab center has many options for ways in which people can help, including a handful of great options for kids. Any of these things can be done at any time by anyone so you don't have to have a group like ours to do it, and you don't have to make it an official event. You or you and your kids can do these things on your own and deliver them to the center at any time, so if you are interested take a look at this link for ideas.
Our group took on the building of a few squirrel nest boxes and grass picking for the rabbits at the center. I thought it would be a good pairing so that if the boxes were too involved for the younger kids, it would be easy enough to hand the little kiddos some buckets and let them go to town picking grass. This combination proved successful as almost everyone there found a job to do and seemed to have fun doing it.
Leading up to the event, I worked along with fellow RLH moms Michele Novosad and Deanna Petersen to procure the materials for the boxes and hatch a game plan for the actual building of the boxes. Thankfully, Michele is talented and knowledgeable in the carpentry department and was able to tell Deanna and I what we would need to actually ask for at the hardware stores and Deanna was brave enough to start getting our feet in doors around town. After Deanna made initial contact with a few stores, I followed up and was lucky enough to walk into Home Depot here in Boulder (on Arapahoe). The staff there could not have been more kind, friendly, helpful and generous with their time and made sure we got enough donated materials from their store to make 3 squirrel nest boxes. I want to officially and publicly thank Derrick and Garrisen (store managers), Chuck (lumber department--Chuck spent so much time with us and never once gave me the impression that he was anything less than happy to help out), Pat (checkout--we hit a few snags but she too stuck with us happily until we got it figured out) and Aaron (helped us load the car. With two small kids in tow, I can't tell you how grateful I was for that).
I then got the materials to Michele who prepped them by doing some of the things that were either impossible to do without an electrical outlet (we held the event at our adopted park) and/or too dangerous for the kids to do themselves. Michele also built a prototype so participants would have an example to look to while working. So thankful for your hard work, Michele thank you!
Today went as smoothly as I was expecting it to and the volunteers from the center who came to give a presentation were very kind and knowledgeable. Thank you Mary, Amy and Jeff! The kids all asked a lot of really sweet and thoughtful questions and then worked very hard on the projects. The weather was perfect to boot so, all in all, an exceptional morning. We built and decorated 3 boxes (4 counting Michele's prototype) and picked enough grass to feed about 5 rabbits for a whole day!
Thank you to all of the families who came this morning--it was so nice to see you all!
The rehab center has many options for ways in which people can help, including a handful of great options for kids. Any of these things can be done at any time by anyone so you don't have to have a group like ours to do it, and you don't have to make it an official event. You or you and your kids can do these things on your own and deliver them to the center at any time, so if you are interested take a look at this link for ideas.
Our group took on the building of a few squirrel nest boxes and grass picking for the rabbits at the center. I thought it would be a good pairing so that if the boxes were too involved for the younger kids, it would be easy enough to hand the little kiddos some buckets and let them go to town picking grass. This combination proved successful as almost everyone there found a job to do and seemed to have fun doing it.
Leading up to the event, I worked along with fellow RLH moms Michele Novosad and Deanna Petersen to procure the materials for the boxes and hatch a game plan for the actual building of the boxes. Thankfully, Michele is talented and knowledgeable in the carpentry department and was able to tell Deanna and I what we would need to actually ask for at the hardware stores and Deanna was brave enough to start getting our feet in doors around town. After Deanna made initial contact with a few stores, I followed up and was lucky enough to walk into Home Depot here in Boulder (on Arapahoe). The staff there could not have been more kind, friendly, helpful and generous with their time and made sure we got enough donated materials from their store to make 3 squirrel nest boxes. I want to officially and publicly thank Derrick and Garrisen (store managers), Chuck (lumber department--Chuck spent so much time with us and never once gave me the impression that he was anything less than happy to help out), Pat (checkout--we hit a few snags but she too stuck with us happily until we got it figured out) and Aaron (helped us load the car. With two small kids in tow, I can't tell you how grateful I was for that).
I then got the materials to Michele who prepped them by doing some of the things that were either impossible to do without an electrical outlet (we held the event at our adopted park) and/or too dangerous for the kids to do themselves. Michele also built a prototype so participants would have an example to look to while working. So thankful for your hard work, Michele thank you!
Today went as smoothly as I was expecting it to and the volunteers from the center who came to give a presentation were very kind and knowledgeable. Thank you Mary, Amy and Jeff! The kids all asked a lot of really sweet and thoughtful questions and then worked very hard on the projects. The weather was perfect to boot so, all in all, an exceptional morning. We built and decorated 3 boxes (4 counting Michele's prototype) and picked enough grass to feed about 5 rabbits for a whole day!
Thank you to all of the families who came this morning--it was so nice to see you all!
 |
| Birds nest |
 |
| Showing us a Great Blue Heron wing |
 |
| Passing the heron wing (and leg!) around |
 |
| Owl wing |
 |
| Raccoon skull |
 |
| The kids decorated the boxes too! |
 |
| Me and my peeps |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)