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.

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.

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 ...

let it snow!

As the bulk of seasons greetings will soon be upon us, I have realized why it feels so much earlier this year ... December is far too warm! I would like to say that it has been the move "down south" to Philly that has created this backwards weather for me, but alas, no precipitation has really stuck in my New England homeland, either. Surely, it would be a unique Christmas season without any white hitting the ground.


It is a mystery, figuring out all of these holiday plans in a new environment. Though I have been fortunate to live many places in my life, the holidays have always been surrounded by family and a cold winter. This Pennsylvania climate is all so different just hours south of where I normally sing "Ho, ho ho." Fortunately, Maine is in my Christmas future this year, as Mike (the hubby-to-be) and I spent the Thanksgiving holiday with his family, my soon-to-be second family. It was a wonderful week of filling our bellies, and filling our time with great conversation and new memories. Maine's Christmas will be equally great, as all 6 of us immediate family members will reunite for the first time since ... last Christmas? (Is that right?) Significant others and a dog make 10, it will be a bustling house full of elves for sure.


Since before Thanksgiving, local radio stations have been playing Christmas music nonstop - and I can't get enough. Hardly will I seek another genre during this time of year, as its overall spirit and joy enlightens me. Regardless of whichever holiday you may celebrate during the final month of the year, December bows to Janurary with great pride, spilling out all of its graciousness and generosity. New Year's Eve bookends the joyous celebration of the holidays, and its sentiment is no less vibrant than that of Christmas. So although the daylight is scarce, I always find myself singing along with corny carols amidst the headlights on the way home. It is hard to be bothered by traffic when you're belting "All I Want for Christmas" with Mariah Carey.


It's not just Christmas Day that is cause for such celebration this time of year. Some say the commercialization of the holiday is overwhelming, and from the parties, to the gift exchanges, to the charitable donations, it's true that the whole month is pretty much consumed by Christmas. The overwhelming aspect of it is that the spirit of it tends to get lost in its now more materialisitic nature. There is always a group of overly enthused decorators, but I like to believe at the core of it, they are trying to shine a little love on their world. I don't find it hard to appreciate the spirit of Christmas and giving, especially at the end of one's year. With winter in tow, Christmas kicks off the season in style. People come together and contribute to causes larger than themselves, and we look at what really matters to us all. There is no denying a grinch or two may arise, but even the Dr. Seuss character found his heart beating with glee in the end.


So here's to all the Christmas festivities coming your way (or Hannukah, or Kwanzaa). And no matter where you are, I hope you get the December you have been waiting for. Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

thanks or giving?

In a world full of local and global turmoil, recurring, depressing newscasts often outshine the tiny gems sparkling about: a neighborhood coats-for-kids drive at the grocery store down the street, a funny YouTube video starring a cat that just won't leave a police officer alone while he tries to write up a ticket. These clips are often seen at the end of a news broadcast, why? They're the little reminders at the end of each news show which tells us how they want us to be remembered, perhaps. Or at least they want you to feel a little picked up after dwelling in the stories surrounding our country's failing economy or scheming politicians. This is what I, and many others, wake up to each morning. I live quite routinely (certainly in the a.m.): I get up at the first indication of my alarm (nope! no snoozer here!), I brush and shower and comb my hair. After getting dressed I head to the kitchen for my much needed breakfast and glass of juice or milk, and then I sit down on the living room couch and turn on the television.


There are many other things one can watch in the morning besides the news, but personally I find the news to be much more gratifying. If it does for me one thing, it catches me up on the previous day's antics I may have missed. I try to check in on CNN's website throughout the day to peek and any eyecatching headlines, and rarely do I watch the evening broadcast. So, I find the morning is an entirely different kind of news show. It tends to indicate the start of my day, and I find that the chatty banter preliminarily wakes me up more than a shower alone. It gets me thinking. Surely, in markets like Philadelphia, to which I live closely, there are constant local shootings and criminal acts that eat up a chunk of airtime, but overall the morning crew is bubbly and willing to crack jokes at one another, because it's their morning, too. They've got to pull livelihood from somewhere, and a cup-a-joe doesn't equal positivity, it just intensifies whatever emotion you are feeling since you're more alert.


So, today's news marked the beginning of Turkey Week, and, appropiately there were some tidbits on Thanksgiving traditions and myths from over the years. The meteorologists seemed as if they just wanted to point out the up and coming grey skies that thicken around this time of year, but the vast sentiment around the newstation was rooted in peace. And those warm sentiments linger this week into that infamous fourth Thursday of November, this coming Thursday, and really kick off the Holiday Season. We give grace to our families who take us in, and we thank ourselves for getting through another chaotic year. Thanksgiving does just as it implies, it levels out the receiving and giving sides of a scale, and whether you have more to give this year, or more for which to be thankful, this day is for all of us. We have all made it through.


Can I just say: I wish to give more of myself in the coming year, whether it be physical volunteer time to others, or more availability to have phone dates with family and friends. I am so thankful for those who believe in me, and as the holiday spirit approaches, I feel their love and faith even more. I wish to give myself time aside each week for me-time. A bath, a book, a walk, I want to give myself the Carly I deserve. I am so thankful for the man who stands beside me, understanding that some solidarity does not equate loneliness, it is reconnection. I want to give back to the Earth that feeds me. Next summer I would like to be a part of a community garden, since I am without personal lot to seed, and that way I will feel even more connected to the ground which supports me every day. I am so thankful for Nature around me. Longer nights may mean shorter days, but it gives that much more appreciation and concentration of the available Vitamin D. I wish to give you all a gift, and that is a moment in which to thank yourselves. Thank someone or something in your life that has helped you - in the past day or in the past year, and set an intention to actively thank them. It may be your own body that has undergone some serious changes. It may be your colleague who makes your laugh when you're not as motivated to work today. It may be your dog who greets you every morning thinking the exact same thing, "I love you! My favorite person is awake!" All of these things are to be thanked, and please take this moment, this gift of time to do so.


Thankfulness is not a grand gesture, but its power is truly great.
Namaste, and be well.

3 chords and the truth

As I sit in front of the television watching the 43rd annual CMAs - Country Music Awards - in Nashville, I can't help but feel loved. Not from being on stage, not from singing my own music, or even from singing the music from the nominated and winning stars tonight. Tonight has just been a reminder of what country music does for me, and millions of other people - it reunites.


The title of this blog was a quote said by Harlan Howard, a monumental country music songwriter who died in 2002. His understanding of country music as "three chords and the truth" is certainly the greatest way in which I have seen this genre of music put to words. It's a style in which artists are free to be themselves, and their successes are largely granted by the fans for which their songs are written. If the material isn't real, a country fan will tell you. The average, everyday, hardworking, sometimes-struggling individual relates to these tales of love, family, and hardship.


I'm not saying that every country song or artist is going to be great. There are levels of "twang" and "honky tonk" to which you must accustom yourself! There's a definite redneck quality to the overall genre of country music. From the famous "South" and "good ol' drinkin'," I mean, it is a crazy, careless style that dwells in an atypical world. But the beauty of that world, those roots, is that everyone at the heart of this industry believes in it. Every artist tonight shows their true colors and supports each other immeasurably. How can a committee actually decipher between the Lady Antebellum and the Rascal Flatts? Regardless of who is victorious (Lady Antebellum, in this instance), the winner pays tribute to their fellow nominees, often going out of their way to thank them before any body else in their speech. The energy in the room, the love felt among all the groups and people there is so rich and so pure, it resonates through to its viewers. The whole night is encapsulated by total admiration of talent, and the overall celebration of music that holds so many truths.


And, at the end of the day, if something like the intangible, retiring Brooks and Dunn doesn't make you want to get up and dance ... I'm not sure there is anything I could say to help you understand.

"breathe in, let; breathe out, go"

Some people say that you find inner strength when you are in a state of weakness. Others may say that without all the bad days, the good ones wouldn't appear so good. With either philosophy, I believe our greatest asset is balance.


Surely, there are going to be times in your life when you're at an impass (note: first blog!). And there will be points during that process when you realize you might want to focus on the big picture. Okay, so I may not like driving through traffic every day, but overall, I am happy to be working. No, I don't always enjoy going to the gym at the end of a long day, but overall, it helps me stay healthy and energized. Then again, since when did the big picture matter more than the little things? "Don't sweat the small stuff," right? But what if the small stuff, the "sweat," is the work that life is all about?


Over the past few weeks in my Monday/Wednesday yoga class, our instructor begins and ends each practice with the same mantra. She says, "Note the feeling of breathing in as 'let' and breathing out as 'go.' " Any fellow students of yoga or meditation understand the importance of noticing the little things, and that trying to ignore them is how we can easily fall out of focus. There is no way to clear your mind of all distractions. There will be noises, lights, vibrations, all of which are sure to send a signal to your brain and trip your awareness. But if there is a constant turn to the breath, you will consistently be focused - even with all the "stuff" that may come in your way. "Breathe in, let; breathe out, go."


In our balance sequences, our teachers always remind us, "you don't need to fight it, wobbling is good!" At first, I never understood this, because I saw yoga like any athletic activity; I assumed there was a goal, a destination. The very first time I was going to get into Vrksasana (tree pose), I put my foot at the top of my thigh (after all I was plenty flexible to do so), and I got right back into position the second I began to waver and lose control. I was determined. In fact I was mad and embarrassed when I would begin to fall. In today's class, I stood in Vrksasana with my arms wide as strong tree branches, breathing deeply and working towards a slight back bend. However, each side of the pose was completely different. On the left side I kept my balancing foot at the base of my rooted leg next the calf. On the right, I was able to bring my left foot all the way to my inner right thigh. And like today, over the past two years, I have learned it's not about trying to get to a pose perfectly, it's about coming into and sustaining the feeling of a perfect pose, no matter what it took you to get there.


So I try to plan and look at life as a big picture. After all, there is a future in store. But more than ever, I try to remember that the small stuff is what puts that picture together. The small achievments will build up to larger ones, and this process of steps take us further than any obstacle could hinder.