What a whirlwind the past couple of months have been, and there's no sign of it stopping!
Just want to shout out to Mike that I love you and our life together. Our Enchilada dinner was delicious tonight, yummm. And thanks for all your help with our little W.
Happy feasting to all!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
closing time
Ohhhh, to relax. Yes, take it in - deep breath - ahhhhh.
How often does that happen?
Snow day number 2, today. For only the second time in 10 years has the daycare closed for an entire day of work. But, for two days in a row? Apparently insane weather must be happening, and we're receiving the benefit of this stormy week by staying home for some snow days! I know, it sounds so enticing and glorious and all things magical that hot chocolate and sledding bring about. But, let me remind you - I'm not in school, I just work there! And so, responsibilities you never had to worry about when meeting your neighbor in the middle of the street to play some winter capture-the-flag, or have a snowball fight, those responsibilities you vaguely remember seeing your mom orchestrate, have come back to haunt you.
Let my lack of going to the gym lately, for instance, not fool you. I have worked out plenty, just not under the roof of an organized facility with weights, treadmills, and meatheads. Aside from walking running and tuckering out with Windsor and all her puppy-antics, Philadelphia has been hit, and hit hard with snow. Just last weekend we got around 20 inches, and then three days later, this Wednesday into Thursday we got another 20 or so. Shoveling 6 cars in less than a week (4 in the past two days), has proven to be very, very tiresome. Back aches are not overrated. But shoveling with guts and glory to get the job done can make the bach ache overlooked. So I am thankful that the past shoveling escapades have not been lonely, either. Whether we were digging out the cars to go to work, or just to break up the day, there have been plenty of neighborhood friends out and about with their (real) shovels doing the same. And fortunately, their efforts keep them motivated enough to come by and assist us, and trust me, I am so grateful! I am proud of the way I can dig out a car, but to do it in half the time, means a lot!
It's eerie to see how stranded we get when a snow like this does occur. Growing up in Maine, I remember most winters with lots of snow. I remember waiting for the school bus one day, standing in about 6 inches, with more snow coming down on us, and our neighbors down the street screaming, "Guess what? School got canceled!" Elated, my sisters and I started our tundra tumble back home which smelled of firewood and chicken soup - only to be cast back to our stop when the boys snickered yelling, "Just kidding!"
Then there was the Ice Storm of '98. Wow, that is a distant memory. We were one of the lucky families on our side of town who only lost power for four days. Others in Maine were without for over two weeks. Sheets of ice just covered every inch around us, and packed down the snow so much that my sisters and I were literally riding bicycles out ON the fields behind our house. Seriously, we have pictures to prove it.
But here in PA, though still a part of the Northeast, the city of Philadelphia and neighboring suburbs are so frequently sans-snow even in the midst of winter, that a New England dusting (1-3 inches) will cause schools to cancel classes and extracirricular activities even the night before the snow accumulates! At first I laughed seeing schools close over such a small amount. I mean it's like your parents tell you how they, "walked uphill both ways in the snow." That's how I feel! And part of this is Maine, or choosing to attend Syracuse where snowfall was not only a season, but a second mascot to Otto the Orange. I mean snow happens, but you deal with it.
So, this morning when I got another phone call about not going into work because of snow, I smiled for two reasons. One, c'mon, Philly we can do this. Second, hey a day off, despite the shoveling, is still a day off. And when you're working full-time no matter what you do, any day to kick up your feet is appreciated. Now we just need to get people around here used to the fact that the groundhog did see his shadow, so we've got about 5 more weeks of this stormy weather! Time to go out and buy that pair of boots and ice scraper you never thought you would need. Until then, time to take Windsor out for a romp in the snow! Love that it is taller than she is, and she couldn't care less. That's what snow days should feel like.
How often does that happen?
Snow day number 2, today. For only the second time in 10 years has the daycare closed for an entire day of work. But, for two days in a row? Apparently insane weather must be happening, and we're receiving the benefit of this stormy week by staying home for some snow days! I know, it sounds so enticing and glorious and all things magical that hot chocolate and sledding bring about. But, let me remind you - I'm not in school, I just work there! And so, responsibilities you never had to worry about when meeting your neighbor in the middle of the street to play some winter capture-the-flag, or have a snowball fight, those responsibilities you vaguely remember seeing your mom orchestrate, have come back to haunt you.
Let my lack of going to the gym lately, for instance, not fool you. I have worked out plenty, just not under the roof of an organized facility with weights, treadmills, and meatheads. Aside from walking running and tuckering out with Windsor and all her puppy-antics, Philadelphia has been hit, and hit hard with snow. Just last weekend we got around 20 inches, and then three days later, this Wednesday into Thursday we got another 20 or so. Shoveling 6 cars in less than a week (4 in the past two days), has proven to be very, very tiresome. Back aches are not overrated. But shoveling with guts and glory to get the job done can make the bach ache overlooked. So I am thankful that the past shoveling escapades have not been lonely, either. Whether we were digging out the cars to go to work, or just to break up the day, there have been plenty of neighborhood friends out and about with their (real) shovels doing the same. And fortunately, their efforts keep them motivated enough to come by and assist us, and trust me, I am so grateful! I am proud of the way I can dig out a car, but to do it in half the time, means a lot!
It's eerie to see how stranded we get when a snow like this does occur. Growing up in Maine, I remember most winters with lots of snow. I remember waiting for the school bus one day, standing in about 6 inches, with more snow coming down on us, and our neighbors down the street screaming, "Guess what? School got canceled!" Elated, my sisters and I started our tundra tumble back home which smelled of firewood and chicken soup - only to be cast back to our stop when the boys snickered yelling, "Just kidding!"
Then there was the Ice Storm of '98. Wow, that is a distant memory. We were one of the lucky families on our side of town who only lost power for four days. Others in Maine were without for over two weeks. Sheets of ice just covered every inch around us, and packed down the snow so much that my sisters and I were literally riding bicycles out ON the fields behind our house. Seriously, we have pictures to prove it.
But here in PA, though still a part of the Northeast, the city of Philadelphia and neighboring suburbs are so frequently sans-snow even in the midst of winter, that a New England dusting (1-3 inches) will cause schools to cancel classes and extracirricular activities even the night before the snow accumulates! At first I laughed seeing schools close over such a small amount. I mean it's like your parents tell you how they, "walked uphill both ways in the snow." That's how I feel! And part of this is Maine, or choosing to attend Syracuse where snowfall was not only a season, but a second mascot to Otto the Orange. I mean snow happens, but you deal with it.
So, this morning when I got another phone call about not going into work because of snow, I smiled for two reasons. One, c'mon, Philly we can do this. Second, hey a day off, despite the shoveling, is still a day off. And when you're working full-time no matter what you do, any day to kick up your feet is appreciated. Now we just need to get people around here used to the fact that the groundhog did see his shadow, so we've got about 5 more weeks of this stormy weather! Time to go out and buy that pair of boots and ice scraper you never thought you would need. Until then, time to take Windsor out for a romp in the snow! Love that it is taller than she is, and she couldn't care less. That's what snow days should feel like.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
7 days
I know that I have talked a lot about timelines, and what can happen in a period of time. In my last post, I discussed perspective and what sorts of angles one takes on his or her life, depending on the situation at hand. So, for this entry, let me just reinstate that much can happen in a week's time, any week of the year. But this week in particular has been pretty life-changing, since Mike and I brought home our first dog.
Not to be that kind of pet-owner/mom already - but she is completely fantastic. Yes, I believe she was our greatest choice, and like any parent or pet-owner, I suppose it is good to believe so! We searched for a couple weeks for litters online, and ended up calling a couple breeders in the area to go out and see some pups. She and her sister (the only 2 of 9 who were left) were so sweet, it was definitely hard not to want to take them both home. But the one we chose, had a little endearing teardrop-shaped spot under her right eye. Knowing what we wanted to name the dog (Windsor, and I will explain), we felt like the little bald "drop" was a perfect "Windsor wink." Plus, she nearly followed us right to the car after our first visit out to see her.
Sidebar: "Windsor" has been an inside joke/possible dog name for Michael and I since 2005. In college, I surprised him with a mini vacation to Philadelphia, where we were lucky enough to stay with my aunt, who at the time lived by the Art Museum in Center City. In order to do all the touristy things each day, we would walk by the Windsor Suites and Hotel off the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. The name just hit us like a "snooty" type of establishment - even though we're sure it's not! - and so we would tip our noses in the air walking by and pretend we had just come down from our room there and were on our way to observe the finest luxuries the City of Brotherly Love had to offer. ... Anyways, it's our own little story from our life together, and it just stuck with us all these years! Thus, little W's name, Windsor. :)
It was a great experience finding her and going through our selection process. The family had both Mom and Dad on site, so we could tell that she was going to be a big girl! Her mama is about 85-90lbs herself. But both parents were calm and excited to meet us too, licking our hands from behind their kennel. We brought little Windsor home and she was both excited, and a bit shy at first. No doubt, there was a number 1 & 2 accident in the house within 10 minutes of walking in. That first day of piddles in the house, we told each other, "Okay, here we go, this is what we signed up for, so let's gear up." We played, went for a quick walk. Attempted stairs (we live on the second floor of our apartment building), and tried our best just to make the first day be about her. Seemed to work, because she slept the whole night! Barking and whimpering surely ensued, but after about 10 minutes of crying, she put herself to sleep in her crate, and slept nearly 9 hours until waking her new Mama up on Sunday, around 6:45.
This past week has proven to be new, tiresome, challenging, but hopeful. We have met many people in our complex with dogs, and they all have opinions on her temperament and size. And about other dogs in the neighborhood. Truly, never would I have thought that you get a dog, and then you get neighborhood gossip. It's comical! There is an off-leash dog park by the complex's main office, and we interacted with some dogs there, and therefore gained some insight (both good and bad) to how people train their own puppies.
Coming home after working with kids all day, I find I am still working with a toddler, and then hearing what people want to say about Windsor, I know I am in the same boat with other "parents" as well. There is always a "way" to train your dog, or to raise your kids. At work, it can be a struggle just utilizing your philosophies with your company's, not to mention the requests of your clients (families) and the kids desires - hey, I believe their opinions matter, too! So with Windsor, even just in the past week, Mike and I are trying to accumulate all the positives and negatives of her desires, our background with raising pups with our families, our families' opinions and ideas about their experiences, professional outlets (stores and online), books, the Internet, all venues. There is much to be said about whose research and reputation matters most, so we're trying to take it all in, while doing what's best for our Windsor. Working full-time we have to think dearly about the time she spends in and out of her kennel. Mike can get home during lunch to take her out, which has been phenomenal, and while I feel somewhat guilty about this reality, she will (and has begun to already) adapt to her structure and routine. It's going to be what she knows, and let's face the fact that a dog just wants your love. So if you at least have that when you come home, she'll be happy happy happpy (wag wag wag!). Not to mention that weekends will be that much more special when she does get your extra time!
She has experienced a lot so far with us, and us, through owning her. Talk about switching up priorities and appreciations! Mike, thank you for waking up early with me to take care of her and to come home during lunch to do the same! She is worth it, I promise. And we have the next 12-15 years to live our best lives with her, and give her all the love we can offer in return for her undying affection.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
the beholder
I've been thinking a lot about this particular blog because of many different "downs" that have occurred - personal mishaps that have made me question perspective. What I feel may be important, and seriously wrong about my day (i.e. traffic jams in the morning and the evening, a cold that hasn't quit, a long day followed by a long class session ... lists can go on). Where does your list start? Where does it end? It's your perspective, you're allowed to confess what disappoints you, what frustrates you.
I guess my face was expressing my emotions earlier this week because a colleague asked me what was wrong. And unfortunately, it was the kind of passive-agressive question that left me feeling guilty about my frustrations, instead of feeling touched by a concerned coworker. Why do we judge others' issues in relation to our own? In relation to the world? A terrible, tragic earthquake shook Haiti two weeks ago, and many were lost. Many still missing. I worked with women from Haiti at my first daycare, and when the event happened, I knew I wanted to reach out to them. I felt compelled as a person who formerly worked with them and befriended them, to reach out. And it was an incredible feeling to do so. I felt connected to something hard they were going through, and then I turned inward to gain control on my perspective about what was bothering me. How could I come home and feel mad about a bad day that encompassed traffic, when I knew where all of my family was? How can I sit at home tonight and write a blog on my wireless internet connection, when there are hundreds of life-saving individuals down in Haiti, all over the world, without so much as a lightbulb to help them aid others?
I don't have the answers to these questions. There will always by cycles of life surrounding us. People are always dying. People are always raising money for great causes. Frivilous spending happens more than I care think about. People are always choosing to do what's right for them. The last statement is the best way I can sum up my feelings about perspective. Think about the quote "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What if you swap out "beauty" for "perspective?" When someone asks you to "gain some perspective" is that an underminding way of that person to make you feel lousy? Why does "gaining" perspective cause so much guilt? Bad things happen to us, in small and large capacities. The strength of the demise can be shaped by our emotional and physical health. Whatever happens to you, happens to YOU. It can't be helped to feel like you're at your wits end sometimes. Just remember that it does get better. Life fluctuates so that we stay healthy. If we remained rigid, permanently happy, permanently guilty, we would break.
I don't want to break. I don't want to conform. I just want my perspective to be my own. For yours to be yours. I guess I'm not sure what do with perspective yet. But I can hold out. There will always be situations to make me feel like I should look back and question.
I guess my face was expressing my emotions earlier this week because a colleague asked me what was wrong. And unfortunately, it was the kind of passive-agressive question that left me feeling guilty about my frustrations, instead of feeling touched by a concerned coworker. Why do we judge others' issues in relation to our own? In relation to the world? A terrible, tragic earthquake shook Haiti two weeks ago, and many were lost. Many still missing. I worked with women from Haiti at my first daycare, and when the event happened, I knew I wanted to reach out to them. I felt compelled as a person who formerly worked with them and befriended them, to reach out. And it was an incredible feeling to do so. I felt connected to something hard they were going through, and then I turned inward to gain control on my perspective about what was bothering me. How could I come home and feel mad about a bad day that encompassed traffic, when I knew where all of my family was? How can I sit at home tonight and write a blog on my wireless internet connection, when there are hundreds of life-saving individuals down in Haiti, all over the world, without so much as a lightbulb to help them aid others?
I don't have the answers to these questions. There will always by cycles of life surrounding us. People are always dying. People are always raising money for great causes. Frivilous spending happens more than I care think about. People are always choosing to do what's right for them. The last statement is the best way I can sum up my feelings about perspective. Think about the quote "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What if you swap out "beauty" for "perspective?" When someone asks you to "gain some perspective" is that an underminding way of that person to make you feel lousy? Why does "gaining" perspective cause so much guilt? Bad things happen to us, in small and large capacities. The strength of the demise can be shaped by our emotional and physical health. Whatever happens to you, happens to YOU. It can't be helped to feel like you're at your wits end sometimes. Just remember that it does get better. Life fluctuates so that we stay healthy. If we remained rigid, permanently happy, permanently guilty, we would break.
I don't want to break. I don't want to conform. I just want my perspective to be my own. For yours to be yours. I guess I'm not sure what do with perspective yet. But I can hold out. There will always be situations to make me feel like I should look back and question.
Friday, January 22, 2010
pretty woman
"The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?"
Though I find this can be true, the positives do make their way in and stick around as long as they can make you feel better. It's been two weeks in the classroom at the new center, and I feel sick. Not sick of it, but sick: ill, queasy, and not used to the germs and mishaps that most kids have this time of year. If you've never worked with or had children of your own, let me tell you, their little noses run a lot. You know, the cute noses that turn that bright shade of pink when they romp in the snow and on the playground? Those noses. The noses that squirm and twitch and react to a sneeze that they didn't know was coming until it literally hit them square in the face - and probably all over you. Yes, these noses of which I am proud to again be around, and aim to keep dry, these noses have made me feel ill. Any teacher or parent will go through this immunization, and that's why I know this "bad stuff" will get better. I will take care of myself as best I can, and I will get over this headache that's always just present enough to remind me that I have one. But for now, this bad stuff really is just easier to acknowledge, since it's keeping me up at night and tired during the day and all...
Otherwise, work is going well. I work with a good core group of teachers, most who have been at the center long enough to become friends, but not so long that they're leaving me out :) There's a learning curve with any job to understand your new responsibilities. But working with children, families, and caregivers combined? That's a whole new set of drama and learning curves to be figured out. And I know, it would have been in my best interest to remind myself of that catty banter among women upon women upon women - I did grow up with 3 sisters and worked at 2 other daycare centers - but there's a hope that when you enter the working world that all of that irrationality, gossip, and just plain spitefulness will disappear. Let's just say that the group of women I work with are like any other, they talk, and they talk honestly! I mean, okay, who doesn't mind getting a little inter-center news from their coworkers now and again...at least for now, I'm try to simply nod and smile, and act as a sounding board. Everyone has their needs to vent, and I will always try to be a safe place for that to happen - even when I do it for myself in the car on the way home!
Class has also begun. I'm taking a Psychology course this semester (how convenient with a new job), and I hope the class will guide me to a new future of schooling, eventually leading to graduate school and whatever career I find gives my life and soul the most purpose. I admit, I never thought I would be a "career-oriented woman," in the simplest of terms. I felt like family was the only job I would ever know. And that may be the case for a while, raising our children and keeping house. Actually, I know this is the case, and have been promised by Mike that my dreams of being a stay-at home mom for some time will be expected. But I find conflict with this truth and other day-to-day anxieties that stream in from the exterior: When will I have my Master's Degree? What field do I wish to pursue? What kind of long-term goals am I making professionally to show that I am a committed employee? All of these questions and I must find answers; so, I sign up for classes, and swear to study for the GREs and move forward.
There's no room to believe that I have just one purpose. Motherhood. Career. Wife. Friend. Cook. Traveler. Blogger? There is no one direction in which my life will be lead. Certain fortunes will appear and all of these roles will meld together, in whichever fashion that I find most pleasant and wholesome for me. When Vivian tells Edward that the bad stuff is easier to believe, it comes from her experiences where she was told no, and that she wasn't good enough. I refuse to accept I am not good enough. But it can be easier to believe for a time that this is true, when my life is compared to someone else's. "Belief," the word itself, can be defined as: upholding a firm conviction based on the goodness or ability of something. I am good and able. I am maleable, and as something so flexible, I am everchanging. So I know that there will be days I will feel for better or for worse, depending on the belief surrounding me or within me.
I am just glad to be in a place in my life, and by that I mean a quarter-life stage, that permits me to question, and to question my beliefs. For I would rather have resolve some inquiries before I do fulfill more of my future roles. I am lucky to have two parents that believe in me. And I have parents I work for that believe in my care for their children. I work hard, and work harder to study well. I love and I give to whatever means the most for me. I want to absorb all the confidence in my life now, so that I can exude it for the children I work with, and those I have yet to meet. There will be reason for my life, and I will not stop believing in that.
Though I find this can be true, the positives do make their way in and stick around as long as they can make you feel better. It's been two weeks in the classroom at the new center, and I feel sick. Not sick of it, but sick: ill, queasy, and not used to the germs and mishaps that most kids have this time of year. If you've never worked with or had children of your own, let me tell you, their little noses run a lot. You know, the cute noses that turn that bright shade of pink when they romp in the snow and on the playground? Those noses. The noses that squirm and twitch and react to a sneeze that they didn't know was coming until it literally hit them square in the face - and probably all over you. Yes, these noses of which I am proud to again be around, and aim to keep dry, these noses have made me feel ill. Any teacher or parent will go through this immunization, and that's why I know this "bad stuff" will get better. I will take care of myself as best I can, and I will get over this headache that's always just present enough to remind me that I have one. But for now, this bad stuff really is just easier to acknowledge, since it's keeping me up at night and tired during the day and all...
Otherwise, work is going well. I work with a good core group of teachers, most who have been at the center long enough to become friends, but not so long that they're leaving me out :) There's a learning curve with any job to understand your new responsibilities. But working with children, families, and caregivers combined? That's a whole new set of drama and learning curves to be figured out. And I know, it would have been in my best interest to remind myself of that catty banter among women upon women upon women - I did grow up with 3 sisters and worked at 2 other daycare centers - but there's a hope that when you enter the working world that all of that irrationality, gossip, and just plain spitefulness will disappear. Let's just say that the group of women I work with are like any other, they talk, and they talk honestly! I mean, okay, who doesn't mind getting a little inter-center news from their coworkers now and again...at least for now, I'm try to simply nod and smile, and act as a sounding board. Everyone has their needs to vent, and I will always try to be a safe place for that to happen - even when I do it for myself in the car on the way home!
Class has also begun. I'm taking a Psychology course this semester (how convenient with a new job), and I hope the class will guide me to a new future of schooling, eventually leading to graduate school and whatever career I find gives my life and soul the most purpose. I admit, I never thought I would be a "career-oriented woman," in the simplest of terms. I felt like family was the only job I would ever know. And that may be the case for a while, raising our children and keeping house. Actually, I know this is the case, and have been promised by Mike that my dreams of being a stay-at home mom for some time will be expected. But I find conflict with this truth and other day-to-day anxieties that stream in from the exterior: When will I have my Master's Degree? What field do I wish to pursue? What kind of long-term goals am I making professionally to show that I am a committed employee? All of these questions and I must find answers; so, I sign up for classes, and swear to study for the GREs and move forward.
There's no room to believe that I have just one purpose. Motherhood. Career. Wife. Friend. Cook. Traveler. Blogger? There is no one direction in which my life will be lead. Certain fortunes will appear and all of these roles will meld together, in whichever fashion that I find most pleasant and wholesome for me. When Vivian tells Edward that the bad stuff is easier to believe, it comes from her experiences where she was told no, and that she wasn't good enough. I refuse to accept I am not good enough. But it can be easier to believe for a time that this is true, when my life is compared to someone else's. "Belief," the word itself, can be defined as: upholding a firm conviction based on the goodness or ability of something. I am good and able. I am maleable, and as something so flexible, I am everchanging. So I know that there will be days I will feel for better or for worse, depending on the belief surrounding me or within me.
I am just glad to be in a place in my life, and by that I mean a quarter-life stage, that permits me to question, and to question my beliefs. For I would rather have resolve some inquiries before I do fulfill more of my future roles. I am lucky to have two parents that believe in me. And I have parents I work for that believe in my care for their children. I work hard, and work harder to study well. I love and I give to whatever means the most for me. I want to absorb all the confidence in my life now, so that I can exude it for the children I work with, and those I have yet to meet. There will be reason for my life, and I will not stop believing in that.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
exception proves the rule
"They say home is where the heart is ..."
... so where does this leave me?
Happy New Year, by the way! Hopefully the first line there doesn't catch anybody off guard, or make it seem as if I'm sad about wishing I could be in 2 or 3 places at once. Christmas in Maine. It was just as it should have been. It actually proved to be more than wonderful, considering our parents hosting 7 others was seamless and joyous! It was such a treat to sit together on Christmas night and giggle at Mom who had to end up leaving the table with happy tears in her eyes, finally surrounded by all her immediate family, who were home for the holidays. Too cute.
The "others," as we labeled them for the weekend, enjoyed their newly-made stockings, and could only get away with rolling their eyes a couple of times at our quirky family traditions and "clique-esque" attitude. I hope it just made the three of them feel more included - we Michel's don't always know how weird we're acting, so we just assume anybody with us will act the same! (This may or may not be in direct reference to our first night home: 9 out to dinner at a big public restaurant, all of us loudly conversing, gallivanting amongst our beers and cheers.) Honestly, the entire weekend was a superb end to the festive season and really, to 2009.
Driving away from Maine, then, seemed a little more than strange and sad this time around. We had been involved in such good company, and I felt like my heartstrings were still tied up in the Christmas lights, yet Mike and I continued towards our home, where my heart also lies. I think that's why they call it heartache: because although there may be just one organ, the infinite love inside leaves little pieces of itself whereever you travel and share time with those who mean the most to you. It ached me so to leave my parents, my sisters, my dog and house; I ached to get back to the place I was trying to make my own.
Three days of work later, and it was another long weekend. (By the way, when's the next one?) On New Year's Eve I said goodbye, again, to a job I had been at for 10 months. It was meant to be interim, but the friendships made there will hopefully last far longer than my hours worked. It was a final separation from 2009, a definitive move into the new decade.
We headed up to Allentown to spend the 2010 celebration with a couple of friends. They had received much more snow than us in the week prior, so we were able to shoot off fireworks and sparklers that didn't need any extra glow other than the white blanket on the ground. The next day we simply hung out, relaxed, and met the new year with an utmost sense of calm. And while I don't usually make resolutions, I can only hope that future New Year celebrations would result in the same sense of tranquility and openess.
A heart in Maine, a heart in PA, a heart among friends. What of a new job? Would I find heart there? For the same childcare company I had worked for ten months ago, I began with them again this past Monday. It's amazing what you don't realize your heart is missing until it picks up the pieces where they were left. As mentioned, I found good companionship and value in the job I had made for myself while living in Pennsylvania so far. But, it was on this past Wednesday morning, when I was able to get in a toddler classroom again, that all the sentiments and joys of working with young children came flooding back to my veins. I do not believe that for my life, teaching is the goal. I offer up all of my gratitude and appreciation for what good teachers do every day of their careers. It's not for me. But the chance to work with kids again, to be watching them experience some of their first big moments (walking, speaking), that is something I don't believe I will ever tire of. Their first realizations that they exist, that their feelings matter, it's a unique time to be around them. More importantly, you realize how good it you had it when someone knocking over your block tower was the saddest part of your day. I would give anything for a two hour nap right now.
The heart is such a unique aspect of our being. Its primary functions may not be to commemorate, laugh or cry. But it does. All memories of our past and the riches we discover today are felt by our heart, and when we feel such things so profoundly, the heart really says it all. I have left pieces of it in different places, and for different people. Some people have taken advantage of my heart. But today, I am happy for its diffusion amidst my life experiences, I can recall on them whenever I want. I just use my heart to help me remember.
... so where does this leave me?
Happy New Year, by the way! Hopefully the first line there doesn't catch anybody off guard, or make it seem as if I'm sad about wishing I could be in 2 or 3 places at once. Christmas in Maine. It was just as it should have been. It actually proved to be more than wonderful, considering our parents hosting 7 others was seamless and joyous! It was such a treat to sit together on Christmas night and giggle at Mom who had to end up leaving the table with happy tears in her eyes, finally surrounded by all her immediate family, who were home for the holidays. Too cute.
The "others," as we labeled them for the weekend, enjoyed their newly-made stockings, and could only get away with rolling their eyes a couple of times at our quirky family traditions and "clique-esque" attitude. I hope it just made the three of them feel more included - we Michel's don't always know how weird we're acting, so we just assume anybody with us will act the same! (This may or may not be in direct reference to our first night home: 9 out to dinner at a big public restaurant, all of us loudly conversing, gallivanting amongst our beers and cheers.) Honestly, the entire weekend was a superb end to the festive season and really, to 2009.
Driving away from Maine, then, seemed a little more than strange and sad this time around. We had been involved in such good company, and I felt like my heartstrings were still tied up in the Christmas lights, yet Mike and I continued towards our home, where my heart also lies. I think that's why they call it heartache: because although there may be just one organ, the infinite love inside leaves little pieces of itself whereever you travel and share time with those who mean the most to you. It ached me so to leave my parents, my sisters, my dog and house; I ached to get back to the place I was trying to make my own.
Three days of work later, and it was another long weekend. (By the way, when's the next one?) On New Year's Eve I said goodbye, again, to a job I had been at for 10 months. It was meant to be interim, but the friendships made there will hopefully last far longer than my hours worked. It was a final separation from 2009, a definitive move into the new decade.
We headed up to Allentown to spend the 2010 celebration with a couple of friends. They had received much more snow than us in the week prior, so we were able to shoot off fireworks and sparklers that didn't need any extra glow other than the white blanket on the ground. The next day we simply hung out, relaxed, and met the new year with an utmost sense of calm. And while I don't usually make resolutions, I can only hope that future New Year celebrations would result in the same sense of tranquility and openess.
A heart in Maine, a heart in PA, a heart among friends. What of a new job? Would I find heart there? For the same childcare company I had worked for ten months ago, I began with them again this past Monday. It's amazing what you don't realize your heart is missing until it picks up the pieces where they were left. As mentioned, I found good companionship and value in the job I had made for myself while living in Pennsylvania so far. But, it was on this past Wednesday morning, when I was able to get in a toddler classroom again, that all the sentiments and joys of working with young children came flooding back to my veins. I do not believe that for my life, teaching is the goal. I offer up all of my gratitude and appreciation for what good teachers do every day of their careers. It's not for me. But the chance to work with kids again, to be watching them experience some of their first big moments (walking, speaking), that is something I don't believe I will ever tire of. Their first realizations that they exist, that their feelings matter, it's a unique time to be around them. More importantly, you realize how good it you had it when someone knocking over your block tower was the saddest part of your day. I would give anything for a two hour nap right now.
The heart is such a unique aspect of our being. Its primary functions may not be to commemorate, laugh or cry. But it does. All memories of our past and the riches we discover today are felt by our heart, and when we feel such things so profoundly, the heart really says it all. I have left pieces of it in different places, and for different people. Some people have taken advantage of my heart. But today, I am happy for its diffusion amidst my life experiences, I can recall on them whenever I want. I just use my heart to help me remember.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
365.
It feels like it's been some time since I've written - and only since a friend of mine mentioned my blog today did I realize that it had been a little while ... I'm home with nothing to do anyways.
Hard to believe that next week will be Christmas and a mini vacation. Some things are planned, but most of it revolves around good eating, hanging with family, and introducing traditions to the new ones joining us around the tree. Mike and I will be meeting with our wedding pastor for the first time, and checking out our reception hall, so I may claim it as a working vacation - not sure yet. As I look over to my calendar pinned up beside me, it is strange to note there is not another page to turn. Time always seemingly "flies by," and yet so much does happen in a year. Take my personal life for example:
January to February I lived out the last couple of months at-home-again in Maine with the parents and a dog, working in a job I love (with kids), and packed up all personal belongings to move to the Philadelphia area. Not only would I be moving to my third state in two years, but I was finally moving in with Mike, my loving boyfriend of four and a half years for the first time. I was fortunate to obtain a job within two weeks, and have since made a couple of very close friends through that work. They are truly some great individuals, the kind who in a matter of months can make an impact in your life that is everlasting. They begrudgingly introduced the "outsider" to her first WaWa, pork roll, hoagies (no Carly, no mustard), and all these crazy "pikes" around the area that are disguised as highways, but none of them really connect to each other, or at the very least provide a direct way to get where you actually want to be. These coworkers have helped me adjust to this new, ridiculous environment (internally smiles). Along the way, we attended three magical weddings, had our families visit us, did I mention I waitressed for 3 months?, we became engaged, and Mike and I moved again in the fall, when he did get his official position within the company.
And the year isn't even up!
It's been a winding ride, and all the twists and turns have been acknowledged and appreciated. So much has been kindly received, and so much more will be given out in the new year. The new decade. And if so much has already happened in less than 365 days, imagine what these last two weeks will bring. Maybe that's another reason this time of year is always so special, because the brevity of its moments are never lackluster or hindered by the overflow of gratitude for making it through another year. Always more to come ...
Hard to believe that next week will be Christmas and a mini vacation. Some things are planned, but most of it revolves around good eating, hanging with family, and introducing traditions to the new ones joining us around the tree. Mike and I will be meeting with our wedding pastor for the first time, and checking out our reception hall, so I may claim it as a working vacation - not sure yet. As I look over to my calendar pinned up beside me, it is strange to note there is not another page to turn. Time always seemingly "flies by," and yet so much does happen in a year. Take my personal life for example:
January to February I lived out the last couple of months at-home-again in Maine with the parents and a dog, working in a job I love (with kids), and packed up all personal belongings to move to the Philadelphia area. Not only would I be moving to my third state in two years, but I was finally moving in with Mike, my loving boyfriend of four and a half years for the first time. I was fortunate to obtain a job within two weeks, and have since made a couple of very close friends through that work. They are truly some great individuals, the kind who in a matter of months can make an impact in your life that is everlasting. They begrudgingly introduced the "outsider" to her first WaWa, pork roll, hoagies (no Carly, no mustard), and all these crazy "pikes" around the area that are disguised as highways, but none of them really connect to each other, or at the very least provide a direct way to get where you actually want to be. These coworkers have helped me adjust to this new, ridiculous environment (internally smiles). Along the way, we attended three magical weddings, had our families visit us, did I mention I waitressed for 3 months?, we became engaged, and Mike and I moved again in the fall, when he did get his official position within the company.
And the year isn't even up!
It's been a winding ride, and all the twists and turns have been acknowledged and appreciated. So much has been kindly received, and so much more will be given out in the new year. The new decade. And if so much has already happened in less than 365 days, imagine what these last two weeks will bring. Maybe that's another reason this time of year is always so special, because the brevity of its moments are never lackluster or hindered by the overflow of gratitude for making it through another year. Always more to come ...
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