I'd be lying if I said that this was not the best year of my life. At least to some extent. Becoming a mom has been a dream of mine since I was just getting out of diapers myself. Granted, when we were transitioning from 2004-2005, it was the greatest year because I knew I had met my soul mate. When we went from 2007-2008, I had been living a life all my own post undergrad in the city of Boston, growing up. And when we entered 2011, I was a wife, another early-set goal from my childhood. I guess the main theme here is, that I found (or realized) each year was "the best" because of milestones achieved. The milestones I had envisioned, despite their timelines being something I could have planned.
For someone who is such a planner, it is definitely hard to live the mantra of "be present." I like to look ahead, because of...well...I'm not sure why. I have always been someone to look forward. Maybe it's because of the unknown, maybe it's because I have hope for greater things. It's not a terrible thing to have goals after all. But what I have learned from my family, my yoga practice, my counseling pursuit, myself....I have learned so much more is possible if I take what is today, and apply it to progression.
Many of my family members are a part of the phenomenon Crossfit. A dynamic, eclectic arena for "forging elite fitness." In fact most of the family owns one of the gyms or coaches at one, and have been a part of the movement for some time, aiding its relevance in our society's increased interest in unique training programs. They inspire me, and their own students, and this stems from their pursuits in making change happen by progressing from where they are each day. Benchmarks.
Since February 2008, I have been reciting "Ohm" and "Namaste" at classes and within myself, when I wanted to find a means of mental and physical stimulation amidst my bustling Boston 'newness.' Yoga grants me so much opportunity to do a self-check in living day to day with gratitude. It inspires me to progress in my positions and endurance, while never blaming myself for where my body may be each time I get on the mat. Thankful.
I have worked in a variety of fields. And while my résumé looks like a chopping block of six-month segments of these professional industries, I do not doubt that short periods provide impact on my life in significant ways professionally or personally. Each job led me to the realization that I want to counsel others and perform within the mental health discipline. A discipline which in itself, is broad enough that I could be working various roles as a therapist, too! The academic path will soon come to a close, and then my skills will be put to the test. It's a place that is very unknown to me, but a passion I have developed. I am eager to offer myself on a broader scale, and truly on behalf of others in the coming years. Listening.
Finally, why many would argue that this is my greatest year so far, would be because of my baby girl. Elliot is unequivocally the physical transformation of my love for family and creation. Mike and I are so thrilled, challenged, and awestruck by her each day. Motherhood has gifted me with happiness, fear, independence, codependency, and enlightenment. This experience is all on its own, and I am just trying to live it each day with acceptance for all the 'firsts' Elle continues to have. Believing.
So what will 2013 have in store? For a personal continued resolution of sorts - I want to live through the four words I mentioned above: benchmarks, thankful, listening, and believing. All of these can be expressed by living day to day, creating my happiness, and moving through the hard times in a present mindset. Happy New Years to all of you readers out there; it's your life to love!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Handle With Care
After a serious shooting in Connecticut yesterday, at an elementary school no less, there was so much on the TV, social media outlets, news websites, etc, it became overwhelming very quickly. It was overwhelming to hear what happened, see what people involved (in)directly were going through, and then read about the event ten-fold online. I also am writing about it now, and it's hard to regroup emotions regarding the incident quite concisely and fairly, considering I am so far away from the experience compared to the families involved. I can't express the sadness much more than wishing the best well wishes for those experiencing a very unusual end of 2012 and holiday season this year. Only positive, warm thoughts go out to them ...
Many people I am connected to on Facebook responded to the event - be it similar words of sympathy, or anger at the shooter. To that second note, I find it now most challenging to read and digest what others blankly state about such sorrows. It probably more of an immediate reaction to express in this kind of anger or disappointment about a shooter. A killer. Obviously, a perpetrator. But when I read comments like "what a sick world we live in," or, "what has the world come to?" it caused me to feel unease about so much more. And so I wanted to take the time to reflect on what that uneasiness is and why I might be reacting in such a way.
These stark, generalized comments often come out of (as noted above) angry and emotional reactions to horrific events. As I work towards professionally entering the mental health field, I have some clarity now about such reactions that are immediate responses to something significant. Therapy as a field, is still stigmatized to be the "last resort" for many. As a society we put so much faith into specialists regarding our physical well-being (doctors), our education (professors); when will we recognize the importance of including such specialists of our mental health as well (therapists or counselors)? It is not just specialists that help us physically, intellectually, or mentally/physiologically. We are self-accountable, too. Nevertheless, I believe we haven been exposed wrongly to stereotypes about therapy that say, "it's the only place you go to if something is really wrong."
Therapy, in the doctor-patient sense, is not for everyone. The infamous "couch" or office setting is not where everyone needs a third-party, objective sounding board. It's not what I would prescribe to everyone when they need some emotional and mental balancing. But it's not to say that our mental health fields are disparate and void of actual professionals that can assist someone if they go that course. And it should never be labeled that that person is "crazy" if they attend. I plan on counseling individuals, couples, children, and families in the near future, and I am eager to see what kinds of issues bring people to the office and what sorts of problems/experiences we will work through together. If exercising helps relieve some of your personal tension, by all means exercise. If reading relieves you of daily downers, then pick up the next novel you see! There are many ways to balance your life, and I think its even better when there are several things in your life to help you feel more at ease, more like yourself, and more balanced.
Our health care and insurance industries are certainly at a disconnect with regards to mental health and reimbursement. Expensive appointments with a therapist may keep most people away. It can be up to $200/hour for the "everyday" clinician, let alone someone who is specializing in something such as an eating disorder, or PTSD. (No worries, this won't be my blog post opinion about the incredible need for our returning soldiers to receive much more mental health attention after sacrificing so much while overseas...). For the financial reason, and so many more, many people do not go to therapy. And like I said, this post is not about encouraging all of us to go. [Note: I have been to therapy, and would certainly go again as I have had decent experiences and am entering the field. It would be difficult to sit in an office and be an empathetic listener for a client without walking the walk, don't you think? It's like those awkward moments when I see a smoking nurse...why am I supposed to take you seriously?] The costs are also so outrageous, that I can't necessarily condone them. But can I condone the fact that you are probably reading this while on your fancy laptop/smartphone/tablet and sipping a $7 Starbucks espresso drink, after going out to dinner with friends? Of course not! Well, I can't condone that assumption either. But it is truly amazing to think that we can find any way possible to pay ludicrous amounts for "simple" luxuries that are often just to impress upon ourselves or to others our "stuff," but not pay good money for the self-health we deserve.
I've also read/heard the adjectives thrown out regarding the shooter who may or may not have killed himself. I think these (some such as "coward," "douchebag," "punk") are more immediate reactions to something tragic. Call me overly generous, call me overly empathetic, call me what you want in one word, but I do not think that this defines the shooter. The very labels are what make us forget to note early signs for those who likely needed some extra attention. He entered the school with a bullet-proof vest and at least three weapons. This was by all means planned out. So, what in his daily life, over much time, caused him to feel so pained by his world to take the lives of innocent children? If the mental health field is calling me - and it seems to - I would ask of any client, even those to which I feel some sort of anger or discontentment, "how may I help this person with their pain?"
We all have a story we want to share. That's what makes us live our lives, and we want to share it with others. Our friends, our partners, our families. I have a daughter now, and while my timeline in parenthood is not yet lengthy, I absolutely perceive even the smallest of things so differently. I felt overwhelmed last night, and wanted to get Windsor some fresh air as well, so she and I took a walk. As I was putting on her leash, Mike reminded us to "be careful," and we went on our way. Our neighborhood is small, so we just took three streets to complete the loop, and I was able to breathe in and out much better with the winter cold in my lungs, smiling as we passed the many Christmas lights adorning our neighbor's homes. It made me feel so much better for so many reasons, and I wanted to package the whole outing and write on it, "Handle With Care." Take this post with my best intentions - as they are always written in that way - and remember to balance your life with the most beneficial of physical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and mental health experiences that you can. And when in doubt, keep those close to you informed. They may end up helping you along the way, just because they are in your life.
Please be well.
Many people I am connected to on Facebook responded to the event - be it similar words of sympathy, or anger at the shooter. To that second note, I find it now most challenging to read and digest what others blankly state about such sorrows. It probably more of an immediate reaction to express in this kind of anger or disappointment about a shooter. A killer. Obviously, a perpetrator. But when I read comments like "what a sick world we live in," or, "what has the world come to?" it caused me to feel unease about so much more. And so I wanted to take the time to reflect on what that uneasiness is and why I might be reacting in such a way.
These stark, generalized comments often come out of (as noted above) angry and emotional reactions to horrific events. As I work towards professionally entering the mental health field, I have some clarity now about such reactions that are immediate responses to something significant. Therapy as a field, is still stigmatized to be the "last resort" for many. As a society we put so much faith into specialists regarding our physical well-being (doctors), our education (professors); when will we recognize the importance of including such specialists of our mental health as well (therapists or counselors)? It is not just specialists that help us physically, intellectually, or mentally/physiologically. We are self-accountable, too. Nevertheless, I believe we haven been exposed wrongly to stereotypes about therapy that say, "it's the only place you go to if something is really wrong."
Therapy, in the doctor-patient sense, is not for everyone. The infamous "couch" or office setting is not where everyone needs a third-party, objective sounding board. It's not what I would prescribe to everyone when they need some emotional and mental balancing. But it's not to say that our mental health fields are disparate and void of actual professionals that can assist someone if they go that course. And it should never be labeled that that person is "crazy" if they attend. I plan on counseling individuals, couples, children, and families in the near future, and I am eager to see what kinds of issues bring people to the office and what sorts of problems/experiences we will work through together. If exercising helps relieve some of your personal tension, by all means exercise. If reading relieves you of daily downers, then pick up the next novel you see! There are many ways to balance your life, and I think its even better when there are several things in your life to help you feel more at ease, more like yourself, and more balanced.
Our health care and insurance industries are certainly at a disconnect with regards to mental health and reimbursement. Expensive appointments with a therapist may keep most people away. It can be up to $200/hour for the "everyday" clinician, let alone someone who is specializing in something such as an eating disorder, or PTSD. (No worries, this won't be my blog post opinion about the incredible need for our returning soldiers to receive much more mental health attention after sacrificing so much while overseas...). For the financial reason, and so many more, many people do not go to therapy. And like I said, this post is not about encouraging all of us to go. [Note: I have been to therapy, and would certainly go again as I have had decent experiences and am entering the field. It would be difficult to sit in an office and be an empathetic listener for a client without walking the walk, don't you think? It's like those awkward moments when I see a smoking nurse...why am I supposed to take you seriously?] The costs are also so outrageous, that I can't necessarily condone them. But can I condone the fact that you are probably reading this while on your fancy laptop/smartphone/tablet and sipping a $7 Starbucks espresso drink, after going out to dinner with friends? Of course not! Well, I can't condone that assumption either. But it is truly amazing to think that we can find any way possible to pay ludicrous amounts for "simple" luxuries that are often just to impress upon ourselves or to others our "stuff," but not pay good money for the self-health we deserve.
I've also read/heard the adjectives thrown out regarding the shooter who may or may not have killed himself. I think these (some such as "coward," "douchebag," "punk") are more immediate reactions to something tragic. Call me overly generous, call me overly empathetic, call me what you want in one word, but I do not think that this defines the shooter. The very labels are what make us forget to note early signs for those who likely needed some extra attention. He entered the school with a bullet-proof vest and at least three weapons. This was by all means planned out. So, what in his daily life, over much time, caused him to feel so pained by his world to take the lives of innocent children? If the mental health field is calling me - and it seems to - I would ask of any client, even those to which I feel some sort of anger or discontentment, "how may I help this person with their pain?"
We all have a story we want to share. That's what makes us live our lives, and we want to share it with others. Our friends, our partners, our families. I have a daughter now, and while my timeline in parenthood is not yet lengthy, I absolutely perceive even the smallest of things so differently. I felt overwhelmed last night, and wanted to get Windsor some fresh air as well, so she and I took a walk. As I was putting on her leash, Mike reminded us to "be careful," and we went on our way. Our neighborhood is small, so we just took three streets to complete the loop, and I was able to breathe in and out much better with the winter cold in my lungs, smiling as we passed the many Christmas lights adorning our neighbor's homes. It made me feel so much better for so many reasons, and I wanted to package the whole outing and write on it, "Handle With Care." Take this post with my best intentions - as they are always written in that way - and remember to balance your life with the most beneficial of physical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and mental health experiences that you can. And when in doubt, keep those close to you informed. They may end up helping you along the way, just because they are in your life.
Please be well.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
"like little geese..."
I brought Elle into Mike's office today, as he wanted to show her off to co-workers (some of whom had met her, while most had not), and it was a joyous day with lots of love. Most were jabbing at Mike: "She's got your hair!"; "Nah, she looks like mom - thank God!"; "Too cute! You sure she's yours?" All in good fun. And while it's not easy for me to take compliments, it was nice to hear many (especially the women) say: "You look great!"; "3 months? Wow, couldn't tell." And yet, there have been many (especially women) over these past 14 weeks or so, also commenting: "You look great! Are you breastfeeding?"; "Congrats on the baby! You look amazing! You must be breastfeeding."
Now, for those not yet moms/parents/deciding on parenthood, or for anyone without close family/friends who have experienced such comments, let me explain the italics above. Note: an interpreted condescension. Believe what you read, but I take such insinuations about my weight loss post-baby, as slightly passive-aggressive remarks towards my (parenting) life choices. Without getting into a "to breastfeed or not breastfeed" debate, I have chosen to nurse my daughter. I don't plan on going past 6 months or so, and certainly not past 12 months. That's not for me. But to listen to the words "you-look-great-must-be-the-breastfeeding," I merely hear "no-way-you-could-have-dropped-the-weight-without-nursing."
In truth -- this is all probably too much of my own soap box and inner reflections since being at home with a totally nonverbal infant. While I am thrilled for my time with her at the moment, I don't often engage in much conversation during the day unless Ellen is on, or Windsor throws in a playful bark or two. But I take offense to these comments. There, I said it. I take them as judgments -- and while they are likely self-judgments and reflections of the very women who state them -- they have caused me to be a bit on the defensive regarding my postnatal transformation(s).
Yes, breastfeeding undoubtedly helps increase the decrease of weight after a child is born. [Apparently it can burn up to 500 calories a day.] Granted, I am not a calorie counter (have not ever been), and I supplement enough with formula at this point that I am unsure as to what percentage of my dietary intake is in fact 'burned off' via whippin' out the boob. That said, I am grateful for whatever is has done for my body. However, my choice in breastfeeding is simply another personal decision among many to help maintain/implement my weight balance and loss. I choose to breastfeed, but I also choose to exercise. I choose to eat well. I choose to keep a sense of mental and emotional well-being in my life. All of which is done to the best of my ability day by day, and it is by no means a result of any one choice that I have come within 3 or 4 pounds of my pre-baby weight. Furthermore, even if I hit the magical number of pre-baby lbs, who is to say my sizing in clothing is the same?! Gravity works on even the youngest mothers...
For any woman who has gone through child-bearing trials and tribulations with pre/during/post baby weight, I commend you. It's a tough journey! I'm in no way finished. I also chose to eat and exercise well throughout my pregnancy; which is more than I can say for some of the outspoken females commenting at my expense over the last year or so. When we were telling people that I was pregnant, I would explain the nerves of going through such a physical change. My mother-in-law said it sweetly: "Carly certainly don't worry yourself throughout this journey with your weight. In any case, 9 months on, 9 months off." It was a nice gesture to remind me that time helps with most situations, including reaching long-term goals. I am happy to know that my good choices and hard work before, during, and after have assisted this transition. And I am happier still to know that I will probably not ever be totally satisfied - and thus will continue on making as many good choices as possible.
So as far as future comments regarding this baby weight biz, I will try to acknowledge them as my yoga instructors encourage me to acknowledge passing thoughts during meditation or the practice: "Treat them as fleeting objects, and take note of their existence. Eventually, like geese flying above you in the sky, you will notice them, and then they will fly further away until you don't notice them any more."
Now, for those not yet moms/parents/deciding on parenthood, or for anyone without close family/friends who have experienced such comments, let me explain the italics above. Note: an interpreted condescension. Believe what you read, but I take such insinuations about my weight loss post-baby, as slightly passive-aggressive remarks towards my (parenting) life choices. Without getting into a "to breastfeed or not breastfeed" debate, I have chosen to nurse my daughter. I don't plan on going past 6 months or so, and certainly not past 12 months. That's not for me. But to listen to the words "you-look-great-must-be-the-breastfeeding," I merely hear "no-way-you-could-have-dropped-the-weight-without-nursing."
In truth -- this is all probably too much of my own soap box and inner reflections since being at home with a totally nonverbal infant. While I am thrilled for my time with her at the moment, I don't often engage in much conversation during the day unless Ellen is on, or Windsor throws in a playful bark or two. But I take offense to these comments. There, I said it. I take them as judgments -- and while they are likely self-judgments and reflections of the very women who state them -- they have caused me to be a bit on the defensive regarding my postnatal transformation(s).
Yes, breastfeeding undoubtedly helps increase the decrease of weight after a child is born. [Apparently it can burn up to 500 calories a day.] Granted, I am not a calorie counter (have not ever been), and I supplement enough with formula at this point that I am unsure as to what percentage of my dietary intake is in fact 'burned off' via whippin' out the boob. That said, I am grateful for whatever is has done for my body. However, my choice in breastfeeding is simply another personal decision among many to help maintain/implement my weight balance and loss. I choose to breastfeed, but I also choose to exercise. I choose to eat well. I choose to keep a sense of mental and emotional well-being in my life. All of which is done to the best of my ability day by day, and it is by no means a result of any one choice that I have come within 3 or 4 pounds of my pre-baby weight. Furthermore, even if I hit the magical number of pre-baby lbs, who is to say my sizing in clothing is the same?! Gravity works on even the youngest mothers...
For any woman who has gone through child-bearing trials and tribulations with pre/during/post baby weight, I commend you. It's a tough journey! I'm in no way finished. I also chose to eat and exercise well throughout my pregnancy; which is more than I can say for some of the outspoken females commenting at my expense over the last year or so. When we were telling people that I was pregnant, I would explain the nerves of going through such a physical change. My mother-in-law said it sweetly: "Carly certainly don't worry yourself throughout this journey with your weight. In any case, 9 months on, 9 months off." It was a nice gesture to remind me that time helps with most situations, including reaching long-term goals. I am happy to know that my good choices and hard work before, during, and after have assisted this transition. And I am happier still to know that I will probably not ever be totally satisfied - and thus will continue on making as many good choices as possible.
So as far as future comments regarding this baby weight biz, I will try to acknowledge them as my yoga instructors encourage me to acknowledge passing thoughts during meditation or the practice: "Treat them as fleeting objects, and take note of their existence. Eventually, like geese flying above you in the sky, you will notice them, and then they will fly further away until you don't notice them any more."
Monday, November 19, 2012
Left, Right
Shoulder angels. Remember them from the movie Emperor's New Groove? There is an angel on one side, and a not-so-nice-devil-like being on the other. I think everyone has these little guys, or conscience, which portrays itself in one's own way to encourage and confuse the weighing of daily decision making.
I think of my shoulder "Carly's" this evening, after making a delicious breakfast-for-dinner plate composed of scrambled eggs with sausage & veggie fixings, and a side of some bacon slices; this meal is followed by what I referred to as "needs to be eaten" cake. Can't let it go to waste! My sister-in-law was visiting this weekend and as her birthday is tomorrow, I wanted to make her a dessert she enjoys to help with early celebrations. My shoulder naysayer popped up tonight right after I ate the treat, and nudged my heart strings whispering, "Gym?!"
Yes, the internal gym suggestion was as much a dis as it was a treat. Until Elle was 3 months, it was something I went to more occasionally when Mike was free to watch her. Fortunately now we can add her on as a little mini member, and I can bring her during the day to get this post-pregnancy butt back into gear. There have been nice days and weeks with warm weather to get walks in, but as the leaves turn and breezes caress the face, these walks are a heavy mix of leisure and a desired, accelerated heart rate. The few yoga classes I've been to have also been cleansing, but I am ready to sweat. If only to not buy a whole new wardrobe...
Hopefully even more than a physical transformation will come out of my being able to bring the girl to the daycare at our gym, and as Thanksgiving calories loom, I am thankful in advance to have a supportive husband who loves me and my bodily transitions at any time. And the menu of our first family holiday in PA will hopefully maintain an exciting and well-rounded spread of gobbling grub.
GRATEFUL and GROWING.
I think of my shoulder "Carly's" this evening, after making a delicious breakfast-for-dinner plate composed of scrambled eggs with sausage & veggie fixings, and a side of some bacon slices; this meal is followed by what I referred to as "needs to be eaten" cake. Can't let it go to waste! My sister-in-law was visiting this weekend and as her birthday is tomorrow, I wanted to make her a dessert she enjoys to help with early celebrations. My shoulder naysayer popped up tonight right after I ate the treat, and nudged my heart strings whispering, "Gym?!"
Yes, the internal gym suggestion was as much a dis as it was a treat. Until Elle was 3 months, it was something I went to more occasionally when Mike was free to watch her. Fortunately now we can add her on as a little mini member, and I can bring her during the day to get this post-pregnancy butt back into gear. There have been nice days and weeks with warm weather to get walks in, but as the leaves turn and breezes caress the face, these walks are a heavy mix of leisure and a desired, accelerated heart rate. The few yoga classes I've been to have also been cleansing, but I am ready to sweat. If only to not buy a whole new wardrobe...
Hopefully even more than a physical transformation will come out of my being able to bring the girl to the daycare at our gym, and as Thanksgiving calories loom, I am thankful in advance to have a supportive husband who loves me and my bodily transitions at any time. And the menu of our first family holiday in PA will hopefully maintain an exciting and well-rounded spread of gobbling grub.
GRATEFUL and GROWING.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
awakening
I am, as they would say, awakening myself back into this world. Of life. Of a blog-o-sphere. Of connecting! To myself, and on a more global scale, my self. Seeing that my last post was in the spring of this year; oh my, how time flies! And much has changed. Mike and I moved into our house - with flying colors. We have been able to move in, host a couple get-togethers, create rooms which have since created more of a "homey" feel to the place, making the whole situation real. We have bought a house. Incredible! Mike's tenacity in saving dollars, and supporting my dreams of doing so at a young age has really transformed 2012 to be an amazing year.
We had our daughter. A first child! Incredible yet again. She sleeps for the moment, and I can get back to writing somewhat. She is three months already, and it's as cheeky as others will tell you - the time goes soooo fast. Her name is Elliot, or Elle, for short. Her middle name is (as we would also like the middle names to be for additional children) a family name: Alexander. It was my paternal grandmother's maiden name, and subsequently the middle name for my dad and his siblings, and most recently my sister, Sara. It carries great meaning as any family name would for us; Mike and I plan on choosing those which are not only nice phonetically, but nice sentimentally as well. My grandmother, who I literally knew as "Grandmother," was an amazing woman. Warmhearted, spunky, classic. Something any little girl would be lucky to grow into. So here's hoping young, Elle.
To say those would be all that happened over the course of many months would be silly, but clearly the major happenings. Parenthood is in many ways just as I imagined, but in more ways nothing like you read up on. Particularly, Mike and I went through some of the hardest times in our relationship as we ever have. In all honesty, up until those moments, we have had an unusual 8 years together in that we rarely fought. And when we had done so, it was more like pushing buttons and encouraging something to feel like we were in the midst of anything 'normal' compared to many friends. Like how most would probably describe their own fights, I can't remember any of significance now (this is likely because they were ridiculous in the first place). But the anger, stewing, and disappointment in the fights we've had since Elliot was born, are more impacting. It's most likely the fatigue and frustrations from a newborn that help feed the intensity of such arguing; so this was very new to us. To me. I don't normally hide my feelings with Mike by any means, but I was discovering such disappointment about myself as a new mom, that I couldn't grasp also how the two of us were putting ourselves in what was possibly a detrimental place compared to everything that we had built over nearly a decade together.
No fear, we have surpassed this drama, and are now really in an even better position than ever. Mike has had the chance already to spend some quality alone time with Elle and recognize that his compassion in being a father really is there. His worries about achieving something so grand at such a young age, in accompaniment to living up to the title of "Dad" which he never earned with his own father, have probably not totally disappeared. But his ability to calm her, make her giggle and talk, keep her in his thoughts throughout the hard days back at work prove to me that he will be nothing short of remarkable as a parent. As I always knew. As I always knew I would have in my life partner. This creature, this being made from our love, has given us more than happy times. She has exposed the doubts and fears that give us realness we could never repay. Although we may try.
And as motherhood flows inside me in a most natural thought-process, the actions are still a learning curve, and will probably always be so. Patience and flexibility are values I preach, but are harder still to embody when I am so routine. Practice, practice. And no time like the present: little Elle is waking up from her nap. Good to be back!
We had our daughter. A first child! Incredible yet again. She sleeps for the moment, and I can get back to writing somewhat. She is three months already, and it's as cheeky as others will tell you - the time goes soooo fast. Her name is Elliot, or Elle, for short. Her middle name is (as we would also like the middle names to be for additional children) a family name: Alexander. It was my paternal grandmother's maiden name, and subsequently the middle name for my dad and his siblings, and most recently my sister, Sara. It carries great meaning as any family name would for us; Mike and I plan on choosing those which are not only nice phonetically, but nice sentimentally as well. My grandmother, who I literally knew as "Grandmother," was an amazing woman. Warmhearted, spunky, classic. Something any little girl would be lucky to grow into. So here's hoping young, Elle.
To say those would be all that happened over the course of many months would be silly, but clearly the major happenings. Parenthood is in many ways just as I imagined, but in more ways nothing like you read up on. Particularly, Mike and I went through some of the hardest times in our relationship as we ever have. In all honesty, up until those moments, we have had an unusual 8 years together in that we rarely fought. And when we had done so, it was more like pushing buttons and encouraging something to feel like we were in the midst of anything 'normal' compared to many friends. Like how most would probably describe their own fights, I can't remember any of significance now (this is likely because they were ridiculous in the first place). But the anger, stewing, and disappointment in the fights we've had since Elliot was born, are more impacting. It's most likely the fatigue and frustrations from a newborn that help feed the intensity of such arguing; so this was very new to us. To me. I don't normally hide my feelings with Mike by any means, but I was discovering such disappointment about myself as a new mom, that I couldn't grasp also how the two of us were putting ourselves in what was possibly a detrimental place compared to everything that we had built over nearly a decade together.
No fear, we have surpassed this drama, and are now really in an even better position than ever. Mike has had the chance already to spend some quality alone time with Elle and recognize that his compassion in being a father really is there. His worries about achieving something so grand at such a young age, in accompaniment to living up to the title of "Dad" which he never earned with his own father, have probably not totally disappeared. But his ability to calm her, make her giggle and talk, keep her in his thoughts throughout the hard days back at work prove to me that he will be nothing short of remarkable as a parent. As I always knew. As I always knew I would have in my life partner. This creature, this being made from our love, has given us more than happy times. She has exposed the doubts and fears that give us realness we could never repay. Although we may try.
And as motherhood flows inside me in a most natural thought-process, the actions are still a learning curve, and will probably always be so. Patience and flexibility are values I preach, but are harder still to embody when I am so routine. Practice, practice. And no time like the present: little Elle is waking up from her nap. Good to be back!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
a love letter to my husband
An email I wrote to Mike about a week ago. He's going through a grueling week of work these next four days, and I just want everyone to see the power and strength he has in himself to succeed - for his own personal goals, and his family ambitions. He supports me in everything I do, and I only ever hope to do the same throughout each day we spend together.
I love you, Mike. <3
Hey goob -
I just wanted to write and let you know that I am so in love with you.
Sometimes it's hard for me to say goodnight to you when you're not in
the bed, because it feels like goodbye. I know that's silly - I just
love knowing you're there to keep me warm, safe, and like a wonderful
woman. You've made me the happiest woman to know I am fulfilling a
life-long dream of pregnancy and bearing our child made from that
love.
The house we live in is so wonderful, and it would not have happened
without your hard work. The 5 years you're coming up to at GE is
remarkable - in the speed 5 years took to the time you really spend at
the office, which has probably felt more like 6 or 7! I am so proud
of you, and so glad that you are fulfilling life choices you have set
your mind to as well. Earning a good job, turning it into a hopeful
career, and becoming the man of the house/husband/father-to-be you
envisioned.
I hope that these next two weeks go well for you at work, with the
workout and getting the project up and running. Always more to do,
but you take it in stride. You get onto your work computer at any
time of night and move through what's in front of you. You still take
the time to get your dessert/ice cream and enjoy the NBA game on,
because you are so good and recognizing the big picture. You give
yourself the time and energy to be a part of your successes and I look
up to that. It can be too easy for me to get wrapped up in the little
things that I believe are 'holding me back,' and I just have to
remember to turn to you and breathe in/breathe out.
I am so thankful for you, and I am thankful for the work we put into
our relationship. It makes it rich, and it makes it ours. Have a
good day today, you're doing wonderfully in so many things. Continue
being yourself and all will be well.
See you tonight,
Your adoring friend, wife, and rock,
Carly
I just wanted to write and let you know that I am so in love with you.
Sometimes it's hard for me to say goodnight to you when you're not in
the bed, because it feels like goodbye. I know that's silly - I just
love knowing you're there to keep me warm, safe, and like a wonderful
woman. You've made me the happiest woman to know I am fulfilling a
life-long dream of pregnancy and bearing our child made from that
love.
The house we live in is so wonderful, and it would not have happened
without your hard work. The 5 years you're coming up to at GE is
remarkable - in the speed 5 years took to the time you really spend at
the office, which has probably felt more like 6 or 7! I am so proud
of you, and so glad that you are fulfilling life choices you have set
your mind to as well. Earning a good job, turning it into a hopeful
career, and becoming the man of the house/husband/father-to-be you
envisioned.
I hope that these next two weeks go well for you at work, with the
workout and getting the project up and running. Always more to do,
but you take it in stride. You get onto your work computer at any
time of night and move through what's in front of you. You still take
the time to get your dessert/ice cream and enjoy the NBA game on,
because you are so good and recognizing the big picture. You give
yourself the time and energy to be a part of your successes and I look
up to that. It can be too easy for me to get wrapped up in the little
things that I believe are 'holding me back,' and I just have to
remember to turn to you and breathe in/breathe out.
I am so thankful for you, and I am thankful for the work we put into
our relationship. It makes it rich, and it makes it ours. Have a
good day today, you're doing wonderfully in so many things. Continue
being yourself and all will be well.
See you tonight,
Your adoring friend, wife, and rock,
Carly
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
to each her own?
I've got quite the update to express before beginning on this blog...
Mike and I have purchased our first home (!) and despite the time lapse between postings here, it happened within what felt like minutes. We had started our search in the beginning of January - meeting with a referred realtor and compiling our "definitelys" and "maybes" and "no ways" regarding the initial group of listings she sent our way. Our apartment lease isn't up until the middle of May - so we figured, January, perfect. Plenty of time to start the search.
So, we organized our near 20-home search and spread the listings out over 2 days. (20 was a lot to see in one weekend, but it was our first search, and we had narrowed the 17 or so down from 90 choices, so we felt pretty good about it!) That Saturday, as we're about a third of the way through searching houses, we were finishing up in one of the listed homes, pretty begrudgingly. We had not only walked into a house that was in use, but literally at that moment in use with tenants, or whomever lived there at the time - 2 young adults, their toddler, and their dog - watching the T.V. and eating lunch. We anxiously avoided them, trying not to say out loud what we were thinking (good or bad), and meandered upstairs and outside to take it all in. (Fortunately, this scenario was not the norm as we searched that weekend; at least if the houses weren't vacant, the owners were not present to judge our judging!) Leaving fairly disappointed with the situation, but more so with the house, we got into the car and decided to drive a different way around the neighborhood.
And now, let a little fate commence. However we want to "explain" it, we were leaving the area down an adjacent, quiet street and saw a 'For Sale' sign outside of what appeared to be a darling single family home. Our realtor pulled the car over and then in the midst of calling the seller's realtor, the (assumed) owners walked out the front door. "Perfect!" our realtor exclaims while jumping out of the car, simultaneously putting the other office on hold to speak with the kind couple who just left their house. They were leaving for another showing they were expecting within 30 mins, and said we could of course make our way inside before the other group came by. By the time they left and our own realtor got off the phone with the other, we were already falling for it - and this was just looking at shutters and siding in the afternoon sun! We also were able to confirm why the house had not fallen in within our initial listings; just that day the property had dropped $20k to within our price point: jackpot.
In short, it didn't take much more than the moments outside and a few on the interior to know this was the benchmark by which all of the other planned listings would be measured. We went back on Monday night to get in our 2nd viewing (really just to be in the presence of the home we loved again!), made the offer Tuesday, had a quick and easy negotiation point over Wednesday/Thursday, and scheduled the inspection on the following Sunday. Yes. 8 days between sight and sign, and boy, were we sold!
Amidst this crazy, serendipitous process, something else magical was happening, adding to the excitement and chaos of house-searching...I confirmed shortly before we started looking for homes that I was pregnant. We kept mum until the "safe" 12 week period or so, but knowing that a house was indeed ours (pending mortgage approval and the fun of closing), the pregnancy news was nothing but extraordinary to share. It is our first, and as 2012 has shown already, the baby will be welcomed into a year of other firsts (home, new town), and welcomed into lots of love -- this truth made very clear after we made the calls and sent the emails to family and friends with news that a little one is on the way.
So, like I said - lots of news to share before getting to the meat of my rant, today. With the new house and the new pregnancy, would it be anything but reality and fantasy mixed together unless others' opinions began flooding our mental inboxes (Mike's and mine)? When you have news to share, usually no matter how small, someone has got a similar experience, or has got a 'friend of a friend' whose experience is something to note. This little anecdote meaning that, with the big news of home and baby - WHOOSH! In came the "did you know?'s" and "have you thought about?'s" ?????
"To each her own" is something I want to put across while writing this post, because it's a belief I have as a human being, a global citizen, a woman, a partner/spouse, a future clinician, etc. To harness and evaluate equally all the incoming information (medical, professional, or layman) regarding the baby, in particular, would be cruel and unusual punishment to my psyche and my heart. Regardless of this being my first pregnancy, some other mothers have informed that the opinion-pushing from their friends, family, colleagues, and doctors doesn't stop after the first: people have always got something to say.
Now, as a counselor, I would look at someone's remark (i.e. about natural childbirth vs. the epidural; the working vs. stay-at-home mom; to vaccinate vs. not vaccinate) and say, "with what intention does this person make such a statement?" or, "from what piece of their past/background does this opinion stem?" As a woman, and a mom-to-be, I kinda just feel like saying "thank you, I hear you, now move along!" Honestly, even when it's something I agree with, sometimes the intention feels disconcerting. For instance, it is my goal to experience natural childbirth (until otherwise medically necessary during labor), and if a friend has said "yes, it's 'natural' for a reason, and every mother should try like you!" This is not a fair statement in my eyes. I am hoping that this experience is something I can endure (physically and emotionally), but it is my experience; and with the discussion with a supportive partner, Mike, we can make this decision based on our rights and wants and needs as a family unit. Not every mom should be doing anything. Except, of course, doing what her body, mind, and soul should - and that is whatever is personal and individual to her.
I can't explain this much more without getting political or adverse to acknowledging outside discussion (and with all the other campaigns constantly surrounding us, let's leave that to other more interested folks), but what I can say is to each her own. Or "his," or "their," or "our" -- in whatever way possible -- let the parents be the parents. We will not always be in agreement with our friends or family about the choices we make, and this goes for entities outside of the world of parenting. But what we can do as humanely possible, is listen to what they choose and try to understand or at least appreciate it as their decision. And, if they do seem to actually question what they are saying that they want, perhaps then our opinions may be of use.
Just be kind. With however you view another's lifestyle, be kind, it is not yours. At first we may see it as uneducated, but to me the differences are often out of what we choose to know. The medical world may never fully agree with a more holistic world. And vice-versa. I practice yoga, put faith into meditation and mantras, and believe that our female bodies were built to bear children. But this doesn't mean every woman should have children nor that every woman that does needs to avoid C-sections or pain medication at all costs to her well-being (her whole well-being). I also believe that ill-trained medical professionals can lead their practice through the guise of fear, which causes many women to believe that C-sections (for example) are the only intervention when labor gets tough. But whatever she (being the sister, friend) decides as her entrance into motherhood, she is entering Motherhood - something I value as one of the most remarkable stages in a woman's life - and she is bringing another life into the world. Let us not tarnish the new life by acting out as a part of the world that is immediately on guard or defensive.
Let us make the most of this new life by opening our arms and our minds wide with acceptance and love.
Mike and I have purchased our first home (!) and despite the time lapse between postings here, it happened within what felt like minutes. We had started our search in the beginning of January - meeting with a referred realtor and compiling our "definitelys" and "maybes" and "no ways" regarding the initial group of listings she sent our way. Our apartment lease isn't up until the middle of May - so we figured, January, perfect. Plenty of time to start the search.
So, we organized our near 20-home search and spread the listings out over 2 days. (20 was a lot to see in one weekend, but it was our first search, and we had narrowed the 17 or so down from 90 choices, so we felt pretty good about it!) That Saturday, as we're about a third of the way through searching houses, we were finishing up in one of the listed homes, pretty begrudgingly. We had not only walked into a house that was in use, but literally at that moment in use with tenants, or whomever lived there at the time - 2 young adults, their toddler, and their dog - watching the T.V. and eating lunch. We anxiously avoided them, trying not to say out loud what we were thinking (good or bad), and meandered upstairs and outside to take it all in. (Fortunately, this scenario was not the norm as we searched that weekend; at least if the houses weren't vacant, the owners were not present to judge our judging!) Leaving fairly disappointed with the situation, but more so with the house, we got into the car and decided to drive a different way around the neighborhood.
And now, let a little fate commence. However we want to "explain" it, we were leaving the area down an adjacent, quiet street and saw a 'For Sale' sign outside of what appeared to be a darling single family home. Our realtor pulled the car over and then in the midst of calling the seller's realtor, the (assumed) owners walked out the front door. "Perfect!" our realtor exclaims while jumping out of the car, simultaneously putting the other office on hold to speak with the kind couple who just left their house. They were leaving for another showing they were expecting within 30 mins, and said we could of course make our way inside before the other group came by. By the time they left and our own realtor got off the phone with the other, we were already falling for it - and this was just looking at shutters and siding in the afternoon sun! We also were able to confirm why the house had not fallen in within our initial listings; just that day the property had dropped $20k to within our price point: jackpot.
In short, it didn't take much more than the moments outside and a few on the interior to know this was the benchmark by which all of the other planned listings would be measured. We went back on Monday night to get in our 2nd viewing (really just to be in the presence of the home we loved again!), made the offer Tuesday, had a quick and easy negotiation point over Wednesday/Thursday, and scheduled the inspection on the following Sunday. Yes. 8 days between sight and sign, and boy, were we sold!
Amidst this crazy, serendipitous process, something else magical was happening, adding to the excitement and chaos of house-searching...I confirmed shortly before we started looking for homes that I was pregnant. We kept mum until the "safe" 12 week period or so, but knowing that a house was indeed ours (pending mortgage approval and the fun of closing), the pregnancy news was nothing but extraordinary to share. It is our first, and as 2012 has shown already, the baby will be welcomed into a year of other firsts (home, new town), and welcomed into lots of love -- this truth made very clear after we made the calls and sent the emails to family and friends with news that a little one is on the way.
So, like I said - lots of news to share before getting to the meat of my rant, today. With the new house and the new pregnancy, would it be anything but reality and fantasy mixed together unless others' opinions began flooding our mental inboxes (Mike's and mine)? When you have news to share, usually no matter how small, someone has got a similar experience, or has got a 'friend of a friend' whose experience is something to note. This little anecdote meaning that, with the big news of home and baby - WHOOSH! In came the "did you know?'s" and "have you thought about?'s" ?????
"To each her own" is something I want to put across while writing this post, because it's a belief I have as a human being, a global citizen, a woman, a partner/spouse, a future clinician, etc. To harness and evaluate equally all the incoming information (medical, professional, or layman) regarding the baby, in particular, would be cruel and unusual punishment to my psyche and my heart. Regardless of this being my first pregnancy, some other mothers have informed that the opinion-pushing from their friends, family, colleagues, and doctors doesn't stop after the first: people have always got something to say.
Now, as a counselor, I would look at someone's remark (i.e. about natural childbirth vs. the epidural; the working vs. stay-at-home mom; to vaccinate vs. not vaccinate) and say, "with what intention does this person make such a statement?" or, "from what piece of their past/background does this opinion stem?" As a woman, and a mom-to-be, I kinda just feel like saying "thank you, I hear you, now move along!" Honestly, even when it's something I agree with, sometimes the intention feels disconcerting. For instance, it is my goal to experience natural childbirth (until otherwise medically necessary during labor), and if a friend has said "yes, it's 'natural' for a reason, and every mother should try like you!" This is not a fair statement in my eyes. I am hoping that this experience is something I can endure (physically and emotionally), but it is my experience; and with the discussion with a supportive partner, Mike, we can make this decision based on our rights and wants and needs as a family unit. Not every mom should be doing anything. Except, of course, doing what her body, mind, and soul should - and that is whatever is personal and individual to her.
I can't explain this much more without getting political or adverse to acknowledging outside discussion (and with all the other campaigns constantly surrounding us, let's leave that to other more interested folks), but what I can say is to each her own. Or "his," or "their," or "our" -- in whatever way possible -- let the parents be the parents. We will not always be in agreement with our friends or family about the choices we make, and this goes for entities outside of the world of parenting. But what we can do as humanely possible, is listen to what they choose and try to understand or at least appreciate it as their decision. And, if they do seem to actually question what they are saying that they want, perhaps then our opinions may be of use.
Just be kind. With however you view another's lifestyle, be kind, it is not yours. At first we may see it as uneducated, but to me the differences are often out of what we choose to know. The medical world may never fully agree with a more holistic world. And vice-versa. I practice yoga, put faith into meditation and mantras, and believe that our female bodies were built to bear children. But this doesn't mean every woman should have children nor that every woman that does needs to avoid C-sections or pain medication at all costs to her well-being (her whole well-being). I also believe that ill-trained medical professionals can lead their practice through the guise of fear, which causes many women to believe that C-sections (for example) are the only intervention when labor gets tough. But whatever she (being the sister, friend) decides as her entrance into motherhood, she is entering Motherhood - something I value as one of the most remarkable stages in a woman's life - and she is bringing another life into the world. Let us not tarnish the new life by acting out as a part of the world that is immediately on guard or defensive.
Let us make the most of this new life by opening our arms and our minds wide with acceptance and love.
Monday, January 2, 2012
12
What a wonderful number, the number 12. First of all, it looks pretty. Straight, then curvy. A beautiful juxtaposition. Saying it aloud allows your whole mouth to be a part of the process -- First the tip of your tongue clacking against your front teeth to punctuate a "T," then the chin dips in a downward dive with pursed lips kissing the air to make a "W," your tongue has another exercise exploration in rounding out the beloved "L," and finally the famous move by Billy Crystal-aka-Harry in When Harry Met Sally "white-man overbite" to culminate the "V" of the word. Twelve. Say it, you'll see.
In addition to its tantilizing linguistic qualities, the number 12 represents a combination of other special characteristics, with its multipliers and divisors that I observe in my everyday life. I am from a family of 6, 1 of 4 daughters - though now I consider the other 2 female in-laws in my life to make it 6 girls between my families. There were 3 black pups romping around the Christmas clatter in Maine this year; there are 3 of us thus far in my own family with Mike and Windsor reigning in the new year with me. We had 2 guests visit us on the early eve of New Year's this past Saturday as Mike's sister and beau in tow went out of their way to see us and drop by with some good laughs and cheer. Subsequently, we had 6 friends join us for the Dick Clark special, some sparkling wine, and board games (of course). And at the stroke of 12 we welcomed in this new year of '12, sealed with a kiss or 2. We may not have been singing "Auld Lang Syne" (12 letters long), or continuing to chug champagne, but the mystical feeling that a new year had begun certainly made its way to my heart.
Some approach these new Januarys year-to-year with a fear -- a fear that whatever wasn't accomplished in the days before will haunt them in the months ahead. I suppose that is where resolutions first came from, the fear that we had to "be better" than before, and that it was appropriate when the calendars begin again to fully commit ourselves to goals that we probably could have been working towards all along. The Mayans suspect that this year, 2012, during the 12th month, on the 21st day (backwards 12), that the world is going to end. Do resolutions need to count more than ever if our time is less and less this year around?
I don't know that resolutions ought to be kept sacred for one time of the year. As I have come to know, we are in fact vehicles of our own successes, and the goals worth fighting for are usually the outcomes we meet with pleasure. Similarly, if we leave our fate up to the Mayans, or anyone else in our life that we believe decides our destiny, then we often greet such outcome with disappointment. Whether you encounter a horrible day or this year the world in fact does end, the legacy we leave behind should at least be composed of personal convictions of self-worth and growth, and not the murmurs of what others think of or for us.
Take 2012 on with gusto - as you should each coming year. Work hard and play harder. Spend time with friends and ignore those who bring you down. Do work with those who challenge you - but don't allow room for negativity to cloud the fact that you are trying your best for the kind of success you seek. We do not all search for the same results in our lives, and so our standards must be individualized; otherwise I could say "I should have/should be/should do" until it's 12 o'clock at night again and then repeat it begrudingly when I wake. My goals this year are to continue those from years' past and build up my life the way I have always envisioned: continue schooling (in and outside of the classroom), create a home whereever Mike and I are living, expand our family (in joy and perhaps little children beings), and appreciate the earth that supports us -- for however longs she chooses to do so.
Happy New Year, and health and wealth to all in each facet of life!!
In addition to its tantilizing linguistic qualities, the number 12 represents a combination of other special characteristics, with its multipliers and divisors that I observe in my everyday life. I am from a family of 6, 1 of 4 daughters - though now I consider the other 2 female in-laws in my life to make it 6 girls between my families. There were 3 black pups romping around the Christmas clatter in Maine this year; there are 3 of us thus far in my own family with Mike and Windsor reigning in the new year with me. We had 2 guests visit us on the early eve of New Year's this past Saturday as Mike's sister and beau in tow went out of their way to see us and drop by with some good laughs and cheer. Subsequently, we had 6 friends join us for the Dick Clark special, some sparkling wine, and board games (of course). And at the stroke of 12 we welcomed in this new year of '12, sealed with a kiss or 2. We may not have been singing "Auld Lang Syne" (12 letters long), or continuing to chug champagne, but the mystical feeling that a new year had begun certainly made its way to my heart.
Some approach these new Januarys year-to-year with a fear -- a fear that whatever wasn't accomplished in the days before will haunt them in the months ahead. I suppose that is where resolutions first came from, the fear that we had to "be better" than before, and that it was appropriate when the calendars begin again to fully commit ourselves to goals that we probably could have been working towards all along. The Mayans suspect that this year, 2012, during the 12th month, on the 21st day (backwards 12), that the world is going to end. Do resolutions need to count more than ever if our time is less and less this year around?
I don't know that resolutions ought to be kept sacred for one time of the year. As I have come to know, we are in fact vehicles of our own successes, and the goals worth fighting for are usually the outcomes we meet with pleasure. Similarly, if we leave our fate up to the Mayans, or anyone else in our life that we believe decides our destiny, then we often greet such outcome with disappointment. Whether you encounter a horrible day or this year the world in fact does end, the legacy we leave behind should at least be composed of personal convictions of self-worth and growth, and not the murmurs of what others think of or for us.
Take 2012 on with gusto - as you should each coming year. Work hard and play harder. Spend time with friends and ignore those who bring you down. Do work with those who challenge you - but don't allow room for negativity to cloud the fact that you are trying your best for the kind of success you seek. We do not all search for the same results in our lives, and so our standards must be individualized; otherwise I could say "I should have/should be/should do" until it's 12 o'clock at night again and then repeat it begrudingly when I wake. My goals this year are to continue those from years' past and build up my life the way I have always envisioned: continue schooling (in and outside of the classroom), create a home whereever Mike and I are living, expand our family (in joy and perhaps little children beings), and appreciate the earth that supports us -- for however longs she chooses to do so.
Happy New Year, and health and wealth to all in each facet of life!!
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