week 39 and 40 of 40...12.13.2012

In the past few weeks, I have been faced with some triumphs and some failures. 

…My daughter is finally grabbing her sippee cup and saying Momma (heaven). She runs to me, grabs my legs, looks into my eye…smiles…My hubby and I are becoming more spontaneous…and tonight we were able to go out to dinner with our little one year old AND have a conversation

…I read 3 whole chapters in a book that I have been trying to read for months. I saw a student FINALLY understand addition and subtraction with an unknown number after crying days prior because he just did not get it… (oh how he beamed with joy)

…I organized an entire closet to ready myself for the mountains of work that lie before me to complete this internship. I cooked my ass off, and I completed most of my holiday shopping… I wrote in my journal—truly and thoughtfully, AND I wrote in my daughter’s journal.

And then I felt these failures. The kind of failures that made me question WHAT!!! I am doing, where I am going…??? And, how the hell am I going to get there!!??  But then, I thought about what I WANT to do, and I thought about HOW do I make that happen…and that is when the light shone—and I began to build an action plan.

I started thinking about how we are really all replaceable.  You know, when I quit working at the Gap, they just found another t-shirt folder.  When I broke up with Bobby, he found another girlfriend. My friendship has been filled by new friends, and last year, I learned just how replaceable I am in my own career. 

….I mean, I am not a superhero or anything…I don’t have powers…I am replaceable.

When I started thinking about this, I felt a sense of release.  I simply cannot be “it all.” 

And even though we have all grown since high school (it was like sooo long ago, yet oddly still resurfaces from time to time), and we have all had our huge epiphany:  “I don’t want to be like the crowd-I’m glad I didn’t follow THAT…”—the truth is we all still want to be accepted-to belong.

I started thinking about that…

Damnit, I know who I am.  Deep down.

And I DON’T want to be like everyone else.  I can’t think of a single person I know that I wish I was…well, ok, maybe Julia Roberts.  But, the truth is, while I **admire** certain qualities about certain people in my life-I actually like who I am.  And I am damn proud of the evolution I have made in this past year-despite some of the broken pieces.

For me to let toys to be everywhere, crumbs stay on the floor, and my closet to be slightly disorganized…and NOT freak out—that’s progress, people.  For me to not take work home because my daughter deserves my undivided time (esp when she goes to bed at 7)—that’s progress.  For me to stop obcessing about every pound I have gained or lost this past year—that’s progress…I’m even beginning to slip in my pop culture knowledge, and I don’t care. …I think these small pieces of “letting it go” have made me a better person in some ways.  I believe this because my dearest of friends have noticed, commented, and last week, when my husband was in my classroom with my daughter for a surprise visit, he said I was different with the kids…more at ease, less rigid (well…. ). J 

But, then…the more I thought about it, as replaceable as I may be in some areas…there are others that only I, me…can be.  Like to my husband…to my mother, father, brother…to my closest of closest friends-the ones who will always stand by me…and to my daughter-who will only ever have one mommy, me.  I owe it to them to let my triumphs shine…and shine.

Ahhh, an action plan…

"You have to be going somewhere to have the energy to get there."

—  Dr. Mehmet Oz

 

 

week 37 and 38 of 40 11.24.2012

As the end of this Thanksgiving weekend draws closer and closer (darnit!), I wanted to share a few moments of gratitude.

One thing I know for sure about myself is that I am a grateful person. Saying “thank you” is not simply verbage…I mean it when I say it, and I strive to be grateful and to show true appreciation for all that I have and all that I am given.  The same goes for other sentiments…such as saying “Happy Thanksgiving.” Again, it is not a social grace…I mean it when I say it.  Funny… I wished several people Happy Thanksgiving over the past few days, and I heard some crickets.  Well, I guess I would prefer the silence over an obliged “ditto.”

With that … some truthful  gratitude.

A few things I am simply grateful for…

My senses…being able to hear, see, touch, taste, and feel around this life every day…

My beliefs…I know what I believe in, and I actually have a strong faith—

I am so thankful I learned to love to cook…it is one of my greatest stress relievers. Some go to the gym—I start chopping…

My family-there IS function in dysfunction-

Red wine (see above)

My ability to stand for certain things…and not falter with “the crowd”—I actually know a lot about myself, and I finally am beginning to see that “belonging” is something I care less and less about every day—

Black leggings—I have about 15 pairs, all exactly the same-

The friendships I have nurtured and loved …the ones that have grown and blossomed…the ones I know are there for me, not just when “things” happen…but when “nothings” happen-(thanks S)

The health and spirit of my daughter…watching her grow strong and healthy is a blessing beyond words-I worry every minute of every day for her—but when she laughs and smiles at me, when she RUNS (she is running now), and when tells me “no”…I know she is developing into her own little self-eventhough, in my eyes, she will always be little…just little.

Vaseline-it does everything.

My husband—because he didn’t walk away when I pushed him away and because, even now, he still doesn’t walk when I push…or even when I tug and pull- and he still plays with my hair …

Starbucks—no explanation needed-

Listening to my students talk like me—sometimes it is silly (“um, did you say bless you, I sneezed!”  “you better tidy this desk”  “seriously!”  “don’t worry, I won’t forget to read”) it is a simple reminder how much I can influence them…they love reading—they love writing—and THEY help ME with the math –

ONLINE SHOPPING

Peanut butter and Pizza…2 of the world’s greatest foods ever invented!

Chilly fall days, my favorite season-

The ability to make mistakes…and make them, and make them, and make them…

Cozy, fuzzy socks

The power of perseverance!!

My crazy insane memory…and my adoration of nostalgia-

MUSIC-and its ability to transport that crazy memory back to many places and times…

Slobber kisses from my little girl

My health, my job, my home—I have the things I need…honestly, I have more than I will ever need.

Fires on chilly nights

Spanx-yeah, the secret is out.

Hugs and snugs…I do a Friday hugging ball with my students…(of course we hug other times), but these are the hugs that are the tightest—the ones where they hold on and hold on

Great books—you know the kind that linger with you—the kind that disappear and then reappear in your mind over and over—the kind that leave passages that change over time in your life…

Volumizer and mascara—lots of both.

Writing.

gratitude.... thank you for reading :)

34 35 36...I have been a little busy... 11/13/2012

"It often seems, looking back, that the unexpected comes to define us, the paths we didn't see coming and may have wandered down by mistake. The older we get the more willing we are to follow those, to surprise ourselves."

—  Anna Quindlen

Reflection is more than just thinking upon things..stewing about them.  Being open to growing and changing is more than looking backward and acknowledging “yeah that was messed up,” or “that was such a great decision.”

Sometimes you have to go back and really look at events, decisions, timelines, to figure out how to go forward.  Recently, I looked back.  I decided to look into the past to see if it could help me understand where I am now—how I choose actions, reactions, create timelines, now, today.

What I found is that I do forgive. Not just others, but I forgive myself.

But then, I never forget.  I have this ridiculous memory.  My husband calls it my steel trap (a huge benefit and caveat in a marriage…).

I don’t forget.  If you said it to me…I remember.  If you said we talked about something, I know what I was wearing-where we were standing-what song was playing. And it is rare that I get these details wrong. Not only do I remember all of the details…I know exactly how I said what I said, and I know exactly what you said—contrary to what you think you said. I also know what your face looked like…what your body language said.  I remember it all. Sounds like a detective, right? Maybe…except my feelings are part of the memory---and I don’t forget that either. Scrap detective as a second career choice.

And I am grateful for this trait. I mean it should stop me from making any future mistakes. With this insane ability to recreate situations gone wayward in my past…I should have 20/20 for the future…

But no.

The thing with mistakes is that the lesson is learned.  It is taken in, given a reference number, logged and secured. Yet, if this is true, how do we make some of the same mistakes over and over again?

 I asked this question to a friend recently, and the reply was so simple, yet eerily alarming. The reply was that it is not really about whether or not the lesson was learned…because it was.  It is simply whether or not you choose to listen to it and make a different decision.  OHHHHH.  WOW. 

I wish I had thought of this sooner.  I mean I apply this philosophy to eating.  As in “I will not eat those fries.  I have had them before, and I do not need them again. I choose not to eat them because I know I will gain weight if I eat them.”  I have been able to make a decision regarding food, and stick with it.  Or, “I will not open my new Oprah magazine until I clean the kitchen.  I choose not to read it until I have my cleaning done so I don’t feel overwhelmed and mad at myself like I have in the past.”

But then…then why was it when I was a young single girl, I could never stick to the decision of “I will not call him.  He can call me so I don’t look like a desperate punk like I have in the past”  (this was before texting….which is pretty much the greatest gift and worst evil ever).  I mean I would always give in and call him…even though I knew he would let it go to the answering machine (no voicemail then either). I knew the outcome because I had learned my lesson, but yet, I failed in the decision making department time and time again. 

So, I guess both of these scenarios show very different viewpoints of “decision making.” 

….This blog post has been sitting for well over a week.  Reading it now, it still says what I believe to be true about mistakes and reflecting on them.  It still reveals my ability to forgive…but not forget.  Yet, in this past week, I began to think a little differently about making those same mistakes over and over and whether or not what my friend said was true:  we learn the lesson, but it is what we choose to do with the lesson…

I do make some of the same damn dumbass mistakes over and over.  I do get mad at myself when I do this--AND YES, some mistakes need never to be repeated...and WON'T

But what about looking at some of the dumbass mistakes as second chances?  What about giving “the decided” a breath of indecision?

Am I learning?  Yes.  Are there some mistakes that I won’t dare tread closely to?  Yes.  But are there chances out there that I am willing to tiptoe up to …whisper closely with…

“A chance is like a picture. It’d be nice if you’d just take it.”  (Drake)

The answer is …maybe….to “surprise myself.”

week 32 and 33 of 40 10.21.2012

****Let me preface this with…this is just my thoughts…my words…my space.  You may not understand, but it is my story.

Yesterday, I woke up at 6:30 am.  I made pancakes and bacon.  I cleaned the kitchen.  I took a shower, and I went to swimming lessons with my daughter…and then I never stopped the rest of the day.  I did laundry, cleaned, cooked and cooked and cooked, took my daughter to a pumpkin patch, bathed her, made a killer risotto (YES!!  I finally perfected it!), and after a few glasses of wine, I fell asleep on the kitchen table…sheer exhaustion. (for those of you who have seen me quietly lie my head on the kitchen table—this was different).  My husband moved me to the couch where I slept until almost 4am.

A year ago, I was about to have my baby.  I was sleeping on that same couch almost every night because it was the only place I could get comfortable.  Funny, I rarely even sat on the couch until I became pregnant.  I spent many evenings after she was born feeding her on this couch…12am, 2am, 4am, 6am.  I can remember sleeping on the couch at one end, with her asleep on the other …when she was still so little. …oh so little.

A year ago, she was almost here.  I had no idea the joy she would bring my every day. All my days.

Before she was here, we spent 5 years waiting for her. One month…became 5 years.

I have shared the story on Facebook in the past, but I will include it again on the bottom of this entry for those who have not read it before.  (see the bottom of this post)

Infertility is a beast.  It is an untamed creature that no one tells you about.  No one talks about it.  No one really admits that it happens—well, except for the celebrities on a talk show couch.  You know, the ones who make it sound like—yeah, we had trouble, but then poof, we got pregnant with a few shots.  Um, no, that is not how it works.  How it really works is undefinable because it is different for every person.  There is no ONE prescription…no quick fix.  Untamed…there is no “infertility whisperer.”

When we decided to finally have ONE baby, I really thought that after being so careful all those “single” years, I would be able to get pregnant.  I had a friend tell me that it might not happen.  I brushed her words away.  I had a neighbor give me unsolicited advice years earlier telling me, “don’t wait much longer.”  ….and my response was the same as I tell my friends now—having a baby is not something you just DO.  It is not a car, a house, or a new pair of shoes…it is a forever decision.  Yeah, I know, so is marriage.  No, not the same.  I knew that I had to be sure, really, really sure.   And when we decided…I was sure.

When the pregnancy did not happen—I knew it was my fault.  Like my neighbor had warned, I had waited too long.  But, I knew waiting was the right decision—or so I thought.  My eggs were old.  But, the tests were inconclusive.  They doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with either one of us.  But, still, I knew…it was me. 

Throughout the process—the pills, the shots, the ultrasounds, the blood draws, the travels up Bethel Road month after month  …I still knew it was me.

The problem for me was that…I persevere.   I like control.  I know how to use perseverance to control what is happening in my world.  I know how to organize a closet.  I know how to raise my GPA to get into a program.  I know how to count calories and lose weight. I can save money for a car.  I can follow a recipe, write a great lesson, be brave enough to zipline.  But, perseverance isn’t always enough with infertility.  You can’t just study harder (and yes, I read a lot of stuff about it). And, you can’t just “buy” a pregnancy.

The pills made me feel crazy, sometimes sick, and I gained weight…or maybe I gained it from all the wine I was drinking.  Maybe I gained it from the recipes I was trying week after week.  Or maybe it was from the full fat dairy I started consuming because I “heard” it would help.

I had blood drawn so many times, and I still-to this day-cannot look at the needle.  I remember one day, driving to work late after an ultrasound and blood draw.  I had taken aspirin—and the blood was everywhere.  I had to stop at Target to clean my arms before going into work.  They had to try both arms for a vein because I had only had coffee-no water. I was shaking and yet, there I went—into teach my first graders.  Why was I going through all of this… still, I knew it was my fault.

When we started doing the shots and inseminations…I cried.  Sometimes, my legs would bleed and leave little spots on my pants from the shots.  Sometimes, the fluid from the needle would seep out and run down my thigh. Sometimes, I would have to get several shots to get all of the dosage.  Once, I had to do the shots myself when my husband was out of town.  What if I messed up?  We were spending thousands of dollars…  and, it was my fault.

When we finally decided to do in vitro, our chance of a live birth was about 36-39% which goes back to what I was saying about how you cannot just “buy” a pregnancy.  For the small price of $13,000, we could TRY to buy a pregnancy…with a less than 50% chance of success.  No one tells you this.  Month after month, my doctor would tell me that “next month” it would happen…then he started saying “next year.”  Then he stopped saying anything…  There were so many months that I heard “things look great, really great.” Thank goodness for my nurse, Kathy…she would always give me a tissue with my new prescription, as I would cry…  why couldn’t I make this happen???   My fault, my fault.

 Almost a year ago, our miracle came. She came from a pure miracle.  We did not end up doing the in vitro because I somehow, someway became pregnant…  How, why, what…we will never know.  We have an amazing gift.  Actually…there is no word to describe what a gift she truly is…no word. None.

But this is where people think infertility ends.  Yes, I did have a baby.  But the guilt—all of those years of painful feelings that it was somehow me all those years, hasn’t left me.  I still feel as though it was my fault.  I wish I could say that they vanished when I became pregnant…when I had our daughter, but they simply didn’t.  I kept thinking …If I hadn’t taken the time to be sure…to wait…to get my career going…then, maybe we would never have traveled such a painful road. That guilt has stayed deep inside me…but now it manifests itself in other ways… We have what so many long for…and I do know what that longing feels like.  So, I try to spend as much time as I can with her, but it is never enough.  I feel guilty for that.  I try to write in her journal all of the things she is doing, but it is never enough.  I haven’t scrapbooked!!  I am trying to give her a wonderful party …to show all of my gratitude to all of those who have stood by her this past year.  I try to organize the pictures, but there are so many.  I want to cook with her, roll in the grass with her, take a bubble bath together, take her shopping, on walks, to see the holiday lights.  I want to show her the world-to teach her to be strong and confident-, and there is never enough of me to go around.  What if I had her 7 or 8 years ago…maybe I wouldn’t be so tired.  Should I have gone back to work? Should I keep working…? It is as if all of the “infertility fault”…has reappeared, but in a new way…For all the joy she brings to my world…there is this feeling that didn’t just disappear when I got pregnant like I thought it would.  I thought all of those tears would just go, but the thought of messing up the most amazing blessing ….well, let’s just say, I still cry …a lot.  What if I mess this up??  I will have thousands of days like the one I described at the beginning...but what if I mess up?

What I am saying is that infertility-for those who have never experienced it—is excruciating.  And when you hurt for that long…that pain lingers.  Mine has lingered…but, like I said, it lingers in a different way.  No one tells you that you might feel this way.  No one tells you what it feels like to finally have what you have wanted for so long…yet to have to say goodbye to things, too.  I will never be pregnant again.  I miss it sometimes. I waited so long to feel that…it was hard to let it go.  No one tells you what it feels like after the pregnancy is over….especially when you waited so long to be pregnant.  No one tells you that.

I still believe that we have our miracle…and that it is someone else’s turn.  I believe that with my whole heart. I pray that someone else’s prayers are answered like ours were.

But, I needed to be honest with myself…to ask the question no one asks or explains…

How can the most incredible … have clouds?  And how do you make them go away…?  No one tells you.  I thought maybe I could start…

***the previously posted story from FB is below: (I posted this on FB  last Christmas, 2011)

Over the last five years, it would have been comforting to hear this story…from someone I actually *knew*…so, this story is for those of you who might be dealing with the difficult issue of infertility…and for those of you who never ever let us stop believing.

Deciding to expand our family…

It was a cold January night.  We went to (the now closed) Butches for dinner in Whitehall.  I knew I wanted to talk to Tim about a family, but I was nervous.  It had been on the back burner since I began my 2^nd career as a first grade teacher at age 32.  Would Tim even want a family anymore?  When we got home, we opened some wine, and I took a deep breath.  “Do you think you would like to have a baby?”

The answer was yes.

What lay before us from this point is a journey of trial, failure, and what I believe is a small miracle.

Are we sure…

That January conversation was the first of many conversations.  After much discussion, we decided that one child was what we wanted…just one.  In May of that same year, we plotted out when we should start trying…August.  It would be perfect.  I would be pregnant in September and deliver in May.  Even typing this now really highlights how foolish we were to think it could all be this simple.  It was not.

Why isn’t this happening?

After trying for over a year with no luck, I reluctantly made an appointment with the Ohio Reproductive Clinic. I explained to the doctor…I did not want to do this, but I needed help.  I also explained to the doctor that we wanted just one child.  And…so began the fertility treatments. 

The fertility tunnel…

Dealing with infertility is like being stuck in a tunnel, and you can’t see the other side.  If you have been through this…then you know.  The pills, the shots, the timing, the pills, the shots, the timing.  The visits to Bethel Road over and over and over… The negative tests, the fallen hope, the tears.  This went on for a long, long time.  Not one month did we even have a moment of hope…not one time.  Every month felt like a failure.    

Dealing with the dark side…

We coped by going out more, entertaining more, opening more bottles of wine…and slowly, after several years (yes, years), we stopped talking about “someday….”  It seemed that “someday” would not happen for us. 

Whyy???

We questioned everything about ourselves…and we could not find a reason. The doctors could only tell us…”everything looks textbook, so you fall in the unexplained category.”  There is NO comfort in having that said to you.  I started to think it was karma…maybe I should have been nicer in my 20’s or something…We simply had no explanation.

We tried it all…almost.

We prayed, wished on stars, made vision boards, tried different foods, different timing, vacations, exercise, and we took little breaks.  Still, nothing…  At first we told no one of our plans…slowly…we began to reach out to friends…We got great support…but what do you really say?  No one really understood what we were going through.  It wasn’t their fault, but some of the comments were actually more hurtful than helpful…We were simply beginning to crack.

We thought…maybe…

At the beginning of 2010, Tim’s mother passed from cancer.  We hadn’t told our parents we were trying, but we did tell Sammie…in hopes it might help her fight… After she passed, we truly believed that she would send us a baby.  We waited and waited…no baby came.  Well, not yet.

2010-false hope …or maybe hope that wasn’t ready yet?

By the end of 2010, the cracks were becoming little breaks…I wasn’t myself anymore.   I was becoming a person I didn’t even know.  Then I had a moment of clarity.  I had this feeling that December 14^th would be the day.  I just knew it!  I wrote it down in my journal (the one piece of sanity that I had maintained).  December 14^th is my parents’ anniversary and a dear friend’s birthday.  Perfect!  My parents still had NO idea that we had been trying…but I channeled all the energy I could for this day.

We headed to Chicago for New Year’s Eve…if we didn’t have a baby, we should live it up, right?  It was there on a cold December morning that I woke to find I was NOT pregnant….AGAIN.  We couldn’t take it anymore…what was wrong?  Some families we knew had 2 babies while we were trying to have one…

I wrote in my journal:  January 2011: give up alcohol for one month, exercise, clean my closets, lose some weight.  I had been working with my endocrinologist trying to regulate my thyroid, and in December, it was NOT right.  I had gained weight very quickly, and I felt horrible.  It was actually a Facebook friend who suggested I check my thyroid.  So, as I headed into January, we adjusted my dosage, I began kickboxing, I lost 7 pounds, I gave up alcohol, I withdrew from all my friends except for a visit to Georgia to see my best friend, and I cleaned…and cleaned.  It was during this time that Tim and I decided as a couple that in vitro was our last option…and we told NO ONE.

The last step…and we decided to do it alone.

We met with our fertility doctor, we waved the flag…the white flag of surrender.  We would do the in vitro…the one procedure I was really not willing to do…We had no other options to become pregnant and have a baby. We had already done every test, every procedure…taken so many medications—in vitro, the doctor said, was the last thing to try.

February 2011

February 2011 came…I had lost some weight, I let my friends back in, I started to enjoy life and feel like myself.  The doctors explained that at first they would put me on birth control to shut down my system, and then we begin the in vitro with new fertility medications.  At age 38 (almost 39), the doctor told me the success rate was about 39 to 40 percent of a live birth…drastically different than several years before.  But, with prayers and good blessings, we would be pregnant by April.  We put it out of our mind.  We had made a decision…one that was only between the two of us.  So, we waited for my cycle so we could have the birth control prescription filled.  I was perplexed.  It was late…but the doctor explained that I was getting older-my eggs were getting older-the calendar was no longer reliable.  I went to work on a Tuesday, and I was sent home with a fever.  I had too many glasses of wine with a friend on Wednesday…and then on Thursday morning, I took a test.  I knew it would be negative.  I just wanted to stop stressing about it… 

But then…there were two lines.

No fertility drugs were in my system…nothing had been done since November of 2010.  How could this be?  I yelled for Tim, and there it was…2 lines.  We were pregnant.

We will never know what changed or how it changed.  Belief? Hope? Prayer? Surrender?  We will never know…

And now, we have this beautiful child…with big eyes who looks at both of us like she has known us forever… How do you pay that forward…a miracle?

Our amazing Maris Leigh…

Dreams come true…miracles are real…a higher power is there in our life… Faith Hope and Love…and the power of believing.

week 30 and 31 of 40 :) 10/10/2012

sigh...

sigh....

I have been mulling over this post and mulling over this post—over and over.  I have contemplated what to write for days and days.  No, not writer’s block, but rather writer’s flood.  My mind races.  It is a known fact.  My mind overanalyzes everything.  Also, a known fact.  My brain perseverates and picks apart every thought, every conversation, every decision, every lament…  All known.  All gifts and blessings and pure torture.

A little while ago, someone said to me, “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.” Well, for sure no one knows what it is truly like to walk in someone else’s shoes. I didn’t respond to the comment except to simply say, “No, I don’t.”  In the days that followed—as I replayed the conversation over and over-and OVER in my mind, I wanted to scream back (to that person, to others, to whom exactly, I’m not sure):  “And you don’t know what it is like to be me.”  But, then again… “me” has changed so much—sometimes, I don’t know what it is like to be me.

While we don’t really know what it is like to walk in someone else’s shoes—aren’t we looking for a connection? Aren’t we looking and hoping for a person to say, “yeah, I know how that feels…”  “I have been there, and I know it is hard…”  “I have been through something similar.” 

Last week, my phone died.  Yes, I have a new phone, but in the dead phone, I lost over 12, 000 text messages-messages that date back to September 2011.  While that date is just a little over 365 days ago, it feels like years and years ago.  That person was beginning a new school year, teaching first grade, seven months pregnant, taking a semester off of classes, prepping a nursery, about to celebrate her first of three baby showers, surrounded by loving friends and family.  From that time, the text messages captured so much of what was going on in my life. 

texts about Baby Z kicking

texts to my teammates getting ready for my maternity leave

messages about contractions (that never were really contractions)

messages from my mom telling me to rest

texts from my husband telling me he loved me and how excited he was

texts from friends checking in on me, on my ankles (swelling), on my constant tears

…there were texts that captured every moment of the last 2 months of my pregnancy…all the way up to the day I went into the hospital to be induced…and all the moments after she was born—congrats, well wishes, how are you feeling, You’re a mom!....

I lost all of those texts…all of them. Gone. All of the words…all of those messages and conversations…vanished. 

…but she is here, the joy is here, my family is here.

In the months that followed after she was born…there were many, many conversations between my friends and I as I navigated this thing called “motherhood.”  All those supportive words, funny messages, and everyday chit chat-discussions about all the things my daughter was doing-all the sleep I was not getting…gone. Gone. Gone.  

…but those feelings of love and encouragement have stayed—the funny stories, they remain…

….and then so much changed.  My world shifted…the job I left was not the job I returned to… and there were hundreds of messages that chronicled all of the muddy waters that swirled at my feet…over and over.  I saved all of those messages, but I could never read them again… because in them …were the words of relationships that were changing,dissolving in those same muddy waters… 

And now, those messages, they too, are gone-forever.  And the relationships… …. ….I don’t know. I don’t know.

….and in those hundreds of messages, there were also relationships that grew-that evolved-that strengthened in words of support, of encouragement, of belief.

Those messages are gone, too…but the little blossoms have continued to bloom.

And then the summer came—the one I have written about—the one that left me wishing, missing.  I lost those messages, too… and it forced me to realize that my friend –the one who died—is really gone, even though I hadn’t truly believed it…now, I don’t even have her texts to read.  Gone. Forever. Forever. 

…but her impact on my life is here with me…forever.

In the last two months, the texts were all over the place…because the author has been all over the place.

harried, confused, unsettled, happy, elated, exhausted, peaceful, removed, joyful, quiet, angry, busy, overwhelmed, hurt, helpful, needy, overzealous, anxious, frustration, relieved, loving…  I don’t feel the absence of them…because all of it is still within me now.today.

           And yet still-- there were so many other messages…so many, many, many…

I lost messages that should never have been sent-

-words that should not have been said. I lost messages that were personal, private.

I lost messages with:

recipes, pictures, phone numbers

 I lost messages with:

secrets, promises, apologies

There is a part of me that feels heartbroken by this bizarre loss of technology and a part of me that feels found –released somehow.     …I know … call me crazy (well, most do). 

I don’t know if anyone knows what it is like to be me…but my phone and those 12,000 messages might have offered a glimpse. I suspect if we all read each other’s text logs, maybe we would have greater understanding, huh? But, as I have often said to my single friends: “texting is not dating”  …so, texting and the messages that follow aren’t really our relationships…and I didn’t really lose anything with my phone, right?    sigh....sigh....

perhaps...lesson for this week:  write letters J use the phone J send a card J meet for coffee (who am I kidding--wine.) J 

week 29 and 30 9/26/2012

So I have to combine the last two weeks.  I want to say that I have been busy, but the truth is…I have been hiding away~avoiding some things.   I am not typically an “avoider,” but I actually heard myself tell someone this week, “I just don’t care.”  It wasn’t about anything important, but I really did not care. AT ALL…

Lately, I have been-

Invisible

literally and figuratively. 

A few evenings ago when I was mulling over things in my usual obcessed fashion…I picked up my Oprah magazine.  It was all about advice.  One of the first things I flipped to said, “the first draft is not the final draft.”  This could not be more fitting for my journey this year. 

Since turning 40, I have really worked hard to embrace all that is happening—to my family, in my career, to my face (eek).  And I have stumbled so many times, but the best thing that has happened now that I am 40, is that I know ME.  I know that those stumbles are not a definition of me, but rather part of the path.  I know that I WILL get back up, and I KNOW that I will make better choices, better decisions, eliminate things that are not worth my time so I can focus on what matters. Halfway through this 40 thing, I KNOW myself.  I know what others don’t know yet.  I know that in 6 months, my life is going to completely different than it looks right now (and looking forward to seeing the view).  I know this because I KNOW I am WILLING to do the WORK to grow and change and evolve into a better me.  I know what it means to have to fight for something…to believe in myself more than anyone else because I answer to ME.  I know what others have yet to learn…that when things get handed to you-you don’t appreciate them-truly, deeply, in a lasting way.

I know what some others may have not figured out-just yet---when you want something badly enough, you don’t sit around and wish it, you make it.

My face may not look as smooth, but so far, 40 is becoming more and more beautiful to me…

week 28 of 40 9.10.12

I have been back to work for about 2 weeks now—the kids have been there for 4.

I started my last class (with the exception of the ongoing internship) 2 weeks ago.

My daughter will be 10 months old in 2 days.

My dad turned 60 today.

Yesterday was my 12^th wedding anniversary.

Time moves so quickly…at a rapid pace. It can bring such amazing joy…and at the same time bring confusion and disappointment…and then in a moment…in a flash-bring sorrow and pain…

In the past 12 months, I have experienced the single greatest day of my life, some of the darkest and quietest days of my career, and a grief I was not prepared for in any way…

In the past 6 months I have watched my friendships change, morph—take hits so hard, they left dents.  I have watched from the outside and felt it on the inside…and I wonder why. I wonder why?

In the past 3 months, I have finished 2 classes, started a third…watching the dollars go out the door –worrying I won’t complete all of the work—but worrying more about what I am learning…if I am learning…can I apply this new stack of words to my everyday life?

In the past 2 months, I have heard my daughter hum songs, grow more teeth (8 total), watched her almost take her first steps, seen her hair finally grow—long enough to blow in the gentle breeze…

In the past month, I was able to move into a new classroom, shiny, bright, clean…a room that overlooks the trees—so scenic-so beautiful, we call it the “treehouse”…what a gift to see my former students smile so brightly as they looked up, across the floors, out to the playground—

In the past month, I have heard a buzzing…one that almost stings.  A lack of graciousness, a lack of appreciation, an air of entitlement…A buzz I simply cannot comprehend-so I walk away, brush away the sound.

In the past few weeks, I have heard cheers of joy—my students singing their first Hang On Sloopy of 2^nd grade—I have seen a smile that brings me tears as I type—my daughter jumping in her crib when I say “good morning, Snugs,”-- I have felt a hug …the kind that fills your whole body-from my husband-who each day loves me through all of my “moments,”  --I have cried tear after tear, terribly, horribly missing my friend, forgetting she was gone until I was about to click SEND on the text I had typed to her about the sunny days we were having in Ohio

In the past few days, I have simply tried to enjoy and embrace the small moments—the yellow roses sent to school for my anniversary, a phone call with my best friend who told me to get another perm (jokingly), the 5 minutes my daughter laid on my chest, sucking her thumb quietly, sweetly on a Sunday morning (listening to her little breath…), the silly ways my husband told me Happy Anniversary (you are the worst avocado peeler ever, Happy Anniversary), the breeze from my moon roof on my car (Wendy, I know that is all you!), the old school Boyz II Men song that came on my ipod (On Bended Knee), grilled pizza, tomato pie, Barbera wine, seeing my mom get teary over her granddaughter, my new thicker bangs… and the quiet moment that I had on the way home this evening when I said to myself:  I don’t have it all, but I have what I want…what I need. And that is all.  

Time...

week 27 of 40

You are living your own story.  I saw this on Pinterest this morning (what a ridiculously addictive site of ideas – many of which we may pin and pin and never actually do anything with-ha ha).

I know that, for me, this sentence could not be truer.  You are living your own story. 

I am sitting here on a quiet Monday morning-which feels like a Sunday.  My husband and daughter are away, and I have had a lot of time to think, process, do, reflect…

It’s funny because each time, I get to the same answer.  This is the way I am doing it.  No apologies to anyone.

Tomorrow, I will begin my 9^th year as an elementary teacher.  If you are doing the math-me being 40 and only in my 9^th year doesn’t match according to society’s crazy timeline that states that everyone must begin his career at 23. More on that at a later time.

This year, I am switching to second grade.  If you ask me to my face how I feel about that, you will hear all kinds of excited expressions.  Here’s what I will say in this forum—I am ready for a change. *That* is the truth.

The thing about teaching is that you have all these ideas and plans—places you want to take their little minds. My head swirls and swirls with all of the possibilities.  By definition, I am a planner. I like to plan, to lay things out, to match the outfit to the shoes. Yet, when I look back on who I was 9 years ago … I can see what pieces stayed, and I can see what pieces were left on the drawing room floor.

I still love the first moment a child looks into your eyes—with trust—the kind of trust no adult will ever show you—a child will look at you with absolute conviction that you, the teacher, know everything about anything. Yet, with that comes a responsibility that I will liken to being a parent.  So, now that I am a parent, I can say for those who aren’t…that look that a child gives you—well, that is a lot of what I feel inside now, all the time. *That* is the incredible feeling I have spoken about.  *That* is the best way to describe it.…  J

I still love the moment when a reluctant child—the one who is afraid to try—achieves the seemingly impossible. It is a twinkle, a glow, a sparkle.  I am not sure what happens to us later in life—why we lose that special glitter because it is-in a word-beautiful.

I still love the excitement that children show for the smallest things—an extra recess, one more chapter of a favorite book, playing a quiz game, picture day, pizza day…

I still love the moments when I scrap every piece of the plan to paint, to read a favorite book, to play a game…or to take a nature walk when the seasons change. I still love when in the middle of a lesson, after hearing their ideas and thoughts, I look at the class, and say, “you know what we could do”…or “what if we….” …or “what do you think about…”

I love love love the moments when we all get the giggles.  When we have to just take 5 minutes to laugh it all out.

I will forever love the moments when a reader realizes, “I’m READING”…when the math problem finally makes sense “OHHHH, I get it!”, when the written story of a child makes me cry happy tears or makes another student cry happy tears.  I love when they congratulate and celebrate each other with such genuine generosity.

And at the end of the 178 days, they still look to you with that same trust. What a privilege, and honor, and a huge responsibility …

What did I let go of?  Perfect copies, scripted lessons, getting upset over a tray of magnetic letters dumped for the 5^th time, staying for hours and hours after school walking in circles trying to get it “right,” crooked word walls, trying to make everything the most creative (and forgetting the point), beating myself up when I know I did my best and still fell short….

All I have is my best.  If I want them to realize this and feel secure in the notion of trying, not giving up, of persevering , then I have to show it.

Every year, we make these little mottos to get us motivated.  Usually they just “come” to me.  I have had a wide range of mottos over the years…This year, mine is simple:  “I’m doing me.”  It means that I am trusting myself to do the best I can in all areas of my life—a life that is changing all the time. With so many pieces on my plate, I know that if I hold onto the things that matter the most to me, the rest can roll on the floor, and I don’t have to apologize to anyone for that.  

I am living my own story.

week 26 of 40 ...I'm back :)

Summer 2012…all I can say is …wow…you rocked me to the core. But, I’m ok.  I am ok.

~~~Thank you to JV for this:

“when you're in a storm, close your eyes and endure it

the lessons you will learn just might help you climb that next mountain

---and conquer it”

This week…a  simple list…

Just a few things that have been giving me:

happiness…joyfulness…peacefulness…

·         making tomato pie with tomatoes and basil from my backyard…oh the salty crust…

·         the hummingbird that hangs out in my flower pot on my patio (how do their wings go sooooo fast?)

·         watching my daughter snap her fingers-and hearing the slightest sound of an actual snap

·         avocado (with salt)

·         meeting new people –and hearing “I want us to be friends,”—that was a good moment at a sad time

·         coffee-lots of it

·         spontaneity…

·         watching my daughter crawl to her daddy when he comes home (she races to him)

·         making photo books of my daughter—she is beautiful, smart, and happy…she is JOY

·         sitting on a patio with my husband talking about how our lives have changed so much in such a short time and vowing to enjoy and embrace it all

·         dancing to a favorite song with a friend

·         my bluetooth feature in my new car—completely hands free for talking, laughing, catching up

·         the sun streaming through my back door

·         my new classroom-a blank canvas for______???  (isn’t that the best part?)

·         driving with the windows down and listening to music that stays with you, and then leaves you with an A-HA

·         the unconditional love my friends show me…in so many little ways…

·         the sound of my daughter imitating me singing a little song…she has been actually humming the tune of a song I made up—I heard her do it twice today…the first time I couldn’t believe it, the second time I cried

·         the clink that you hear when you are toasting life and the slight echo that says, “this moment is real, this moment is now, cherish this moment”…and always looking the people around you during that directly in their eyes (thanks WN-I will do this always)

      Good-bye Summer 2012…and hello to my favorite season…

"No one can go back and make a brand new start. Anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." -Anonymous

(working on this, working on this, working on this…)