We welcomed our lil' man into the family on Labor Day (how 'punny') and are well on our way now to reminiscing and reexperiencing the (lofty) joys of sleep deprivation, hunger, and two-way disputes over who has higher emotional turmoil. Ahhh, a newborn...
But on the other, primary, and very notable side, it brings us the utmost warmth to expand our family. In literal and figurative contexts, this next chapter of our foursome is one way we will continue to spread love across our immediate and extended families & friends. It would be difficult to not feel this way, but I admit, I had been combatting several different nerves surrounding this expansion throughout the pregnancy, and not just by way of the adding a second child to the mix, but adding a child period. The whole process again with a young one: eat-sleep-diaper-repeat; feeling inadequate in the precept of generating a positive mother-baby bond; resenting the fact that my husband cannot lactate but breastfeeding is our preference; crying over the fact that I know my husband is an incredibly devoted caretaker and is my savior in just being there; and ultimately lamenting over my (chronic) guilt about money. Ahhh, parenting...
Each one makes it (or fakes it until they make it) in their own way, and so the said nervous ticks may not resonate with you. I think what any new parent deals with the most is questioning. Questioning so much about their choices, their relationship, their physical and mental states. And now because of the addition of a second, questioning anything from the first time - from yourself and all the other damn parties involved. Deliriously delirious, but happy, so much conflicting information makes its way to you in the first hours and days after the babe arrives. We go about it at a hospital, where there are many nurses, consultants, and services; with an OB practice that has several physicians; with a pediatric practice (same as the OBGYN). At least everyone's on the same page, right? Nope. Not with everything and actually I realized this time, not with a lot of things. All the little nuggets of mixed advice can create a steady increase in becoming more tearful and fearful. "Feed him this many times a day/No this many times," "Sleep when he sleeps/Get shit done," "Do you want the flu vaccine for yourself now?/Eh, get it done later." Note: head spinning.
Fortunately, we are sitting pretty at home now, beyond those first three days of it all and the medical check-ins. And I get to sit here on the couch and blog about our familial shift while my cocoa bean and newest peanut nap not just soundly but simultaneously. Not everything will be so sweet as this very moment, and we certainly will be lathered in more questions from others as we go, but at least I can write with more awareness that not all questions/suggestions carry the same weight or merit. Oliver after all is a natural, formidable being who will root when he is hungry, close his eyes when he is tired, and sooner rather than later ask me questions himself for which I'll be held responsible to answer.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
14
Nearly two weeks until Peanut is due, and just 3 days left until a (hopefully ) brief sabbatical from anything but naps, feet up, baths, and picking up the "tidbits" he could need....can someone say diapers??
Had a lovely little party/BBQ for Elliot's 2nd year this weekend, and it brought me so much joy and appreciation for good friends - especially with the lack of family physically nearby. We've really created our own, small world down here in PA and it's not unnoticed that by way of our efforts it does feel like home. Of course, we have our reflective bedtime discussions of packing it all up and moving back to New England; or across the country; what about Florence?
In the end, we aim to create our life of vivacity and achievement and challenge. And we don't expect nearly as much now for things to fall into place exactly how we may have once envisioned. I think it's pretty clear that no one can, life is a funny little universe unto itself that rotates wishes and goals amidst its molecular and biological predicaments and obstacles.
Remember, the beloved said it himself, "Happiness it not something ready made. It comes from your own actions." [Dalai Lama]
Had a lovely little party/BBQ for Elliot's 2nd year this weekend, and it brought me so much joy and appreciation for good friends - especially with the lack of family physically nearby. We've really created our own, small world down here in PA and it's not unnoticed that by way of our efforts it does feel like home. Of course, we have our reflective bedtime discussions of packing it all up and moving back to New England; or across the country; what about Florence?
In the end, we aim to create our life of vivacity and achievement and challenge. And we don't expect nearly as much now for things to fall into place exactly how we may have once envisioned. I think it's pretty clear that no one can, life is a funny little universe unto itself that rotates wishes and goals amidst its molecular and biological predicaments and obstacles.
Remember, the beloved said it himself, "Happiness it not something ready made. It comes from your own actions." [Dalai Lama]
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Oceanic
The midst of summer brings for me some swelling: "my, this beach trip is fabulous and swell," or "wow, those feet are feeling swollen." As always, our range of emotions fluctuates in truth and fib, ebb and flow, maturity and informality. As I realize and recognize the power of what 8 weeks left are like as a 'single-child' mom, and realize and recognize my gleeful outlook on the 6 or 7 weeks worth of full-time work pre-peanut, these summer swells of which I write are actually no different than any seasonal wave: we are always in flux, and understanding life as such can be as irregular a process as the state in which I propose we are...
Forgive my first paragraph, as it stems from a blank, consciousness stream and not from (as my older sister would have it) any grammatical tact. I think I've struggled this year in writing more (and more eloquently?) due to discrepancies in my certitude and confidence with regards to having anything of value to type out. Of value. What can this even mean?? I know (in the concept of 'knowing' re: knowledge, capacity to be aware of) that any blog-o-spheric tidbit I write offers, if only to myself, the very beauty of getting something off of my chest. But I've found it hard to let go (in the concept of 'letting go' re: release, ease up) of any individual or objective judgments impacting that writing. And for what? For holding myself and mind hostage? "If it's still on your mind, it's still in your heart." And what a powerful statement that can mean. I need to write these things out sometimes. I need not be afraid of the value placed upon it. I simply want to break open my heart and pour some of my love and personal convictions outward. That kind of spirit helps me journey within.
I put pressure on myself not only to write well, but often to write big. Long. Purposefully. What I note about other bloggers and persons in my life that I cherish, who express themselves through art/physical manifestations, are that their contributions are not always so grandiose. My sister just recently proved this point in her prose and in the philosophy of her latest post. I yearn to read her usual quips, and simultaneously get sucked into her lengthier tales of wonder. She, along with many others that I read, stake a deft place in mindful thinking and living, so effortlessly it seems. But, when I re-read the messages within such posts, I find myself, and perhaps the universality of it all: we each live in admiration and fear, in linear and circular patterns.
I don't often revise much of my posts outside of spell-check (which may be pretty obvious!) And as I review my prose for today, I wonder what message it holds for you. I am still wondering what it holds for me! I think my consciousness stream has returned (forgive me, Lissa). Perhaps this post is nothing more than a virtual tide to be washed away among the other posts on my blog. Not "good," not necessarily "bad," but indifferent and full of foam. Not meaningful, but not inconsequential. Not stuck...
...but not steady. Content in having written. And hopeful to write again soon. I also just hope to quiet my mind the next time of any subliminal pressure to do any more than just be.
Forgive my first paragraph, as it stems from a blank, consciousness stream and not from (as my older sister would have it) any grammatical tact. I think I've struggled this year in writing more (and more eloquently?) due to discrepancies in my certitude and confidence with regards to having anything of value to type out. Of value. What can this even mean?? I know (in the concept of 'knowing' re: knowledge, capacity to be aware of) that any blog-o-spheric tidbit I write offers, if only to myself, the very beauty of getting something off of my chest. But I've found it hard to let go (in the concept of 'letting go' re: release, ease up) of any individual or objective judgments impacting that writing. And for what? For holding myself and mind hostage? "If it's still on your mind, it's still in your heart." And what a powerful statement that can mean. I need to write these things out sometimes. I need not be afraid of the value placed upon it. I simply want to break open my heart and pour some of my love and personal convictions outward. That kind of spirit helps me journey within.
I put pressure on myself not only to write well, but often to write big. Long. Purposefully. What I note about other bloggers and persons in my life that I cherish, who express themselves through art/physical manifestations, are that their contributions are not always so grandiose. My sister just recently proved this point in her prose and in the philosophy of her latest post. I yearn to read her usual quips, and simultaneously get sucked into her lengthier tales of wonder. She, along with many others that I read, stake a deft place in mindful thinking and living, so effortlessly it seems. But, when I re-read the messages within such posts, I find myself, and perhaps the universality of it all: we each live in admiration and fear, in linear and circular patterns.
I don't often revise much of my posts outside of spell-check (which may be pretty obvious!) And as I review my prose for today, I wonder what message it holds for you. I am still wondering what it holds for me! I think my consciousness stream has returned (forgive me, Lissa). Perhaps this post is nothing more than a virtual tide to be washed away among the other posts on my blog. Not "good," not necessarily "bad," but indifferent and full of foam. Not meaningful, but not inconsequential. Not stuck...
...but not steady. Content in having written. And hopeful to write again soon. I also just hope to quiet my mind the next time of any subliminal pressure to do any more than just be.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
drousy but not lousy
Spring has settled in, and pollen has almost sunken in. It gets harder each year to deal with allergies, and yet harder still while pregnant. I try not to take much of anything regardless of being 'with child,' however I am even more strongly/medically encouraged not to with the bun in the oven. And so, while weeding out some of our dandelion monsters on the side of the house this morning, don't you know that a sneeze or two pops up in my way. I wipe the mess with my dirty gloves off my chin, and continue on. But only for a minute. Low and behold, my body has now met the threshold of all the pollen it can take, and I lost count after 20 straight sneezes. Must be a record! Had to come in, wash my face, and whip out the acceptable Neti Pot - but I actually denied myself the struggle of pouring water through one nostril in hopes that it would flow effortlessly out the other. Over the sink. While still sniffling. Seriously, and folks think that pregnancy is a cake walk, with all the drama at the end of 9 months in delivery. It's not usually pretty, let's put it that way!
Regardless of this dreary congestion, the weather has been lovely. It's so nice to have windows open, not pay for the AC to be blasting surely in just a couple months, and appreciate the aromatic (at times erotic?) scents of spring flowers and neighborhood gardens. Even the dandelion dander this morning had me exhaling nostalgic sighs of dirt and sunlight. And as we enter the crux of this season, our own Bean seems to blossom ever so fervently, shifting from her babe-like self to a toddling tot, perhaps even "kid." As we are happy to welcome the one on the way, this time also makes me sigh hefty breaths of contentment mixed with sadness to observe just how fast the time flies. We are hoping to soak up the summer months of Elle's final "only child freedoms" by taking more beach trips, museum and zoo visits, etc. It's in this way that I can see why the first child in any family often gets deemed and doomed the title of 'spoiled.' Elliot will be the only "only" child of the kids we have. Each of them surely to have some important 1:1 time with Mom or Papa, but never without awareness of their older sister, Elle. It is truly a special moment in time right now.
In the mean time, graduation has passed, and onto work I wander. The same schedule (minus Saturdays, finally!) is helping maintain some sanity until Peanut arrives. And in the even more exquisite fall weather I will be home for maternity time, prior to heading back to ideally a focus on my counseling. Internship proved many things, including my desire for the field, and I look forward to the niche of populations and styles to which I can work on my technique and frame of reference. If anything, it helps me ponder relationships in my life constantly - while being acutely aware never to be the family or friend therapist - and I aim, as always, to grow in the process of becoming a practitioner who fosters a warm and safe space for my clients to envelop on their journeys of self-awareness and coping.
So hopefully all this sneezing and impending hormonal glitches of instantaneous crying doesn't get in our way in the meantime.
Regardless of this dreary congestion, the weather has been lovely. It's so nice to have windows open, not pay for the AC to be blasting surely in just a couple months, and appreciate the aromatic (at times erotic?) scents of spring flowers and neighborhood gardens. Even the dandelion dander this morning had me exhaling nostalgic sighs of dirt and sunlight. And as we enter the crux of this season, our own Bean seems to blossom ever so fervently, shifting from her babe-like self to a toddling tot, perhaps even "kid." As we are happy to welcome the one on the way, this time also makes me sigh hefty breaths of contentment mixed with sadness to observe just how fast the time flies. We are hoping to soak up the summer months of Elle's final "only child freedoms" by taking more beach trips, museum and zoo visits, etc. It's in this way that I can see why the first child in any family often gets deemed and doomed the title of 'spoiled.' Elliot will be the only "only" child of the kids we have. Each of them surely to have some important 1:1 time with Mom or Papa, but never without awareness of their older sister, Elle. It is truly a special moment in time right now.
In the mean time, graduation has passed, and onto work I wander. The same schedule (minus Saturdays, finally!) is helping maintain some sanity until Peanut arrives. And in the even more exquisite fall weather I will be home for maternity time, prior to heading back to ideally a focus on my counseling. Internship proved many things, including my desire for the field, and I look forward to the niche of populations and styles to which I can work on my technique and frame of reference. If anything, it helps me ponder relationships in my life constantly - while being acutely aware never to be the family or friend therapist - and I aim, as always, to grow in the process of becoming a practitioner who fosters a warm and safe space for my clients to envelop on their journeys of self-awareness and coping.
So hopefully all this sneezing and impending hormonal glitches of instantaneous crying doesn't get in our way in the meantime.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Memories of Egypt
Hard for me to believe that this is the first post of 2014. Not an indicator that so much has happened that I haven't had the time to sit down and reflect. Nor is it an indicator that so little has happened -- I would most certainly propose the former. Our family has gleefully absorbed some spring weather the last few weeks, which truly has saved anyone's psyche after the bitter, cold, and snowy winter PA shook down on us. We also have welcomed another "bump" in the road - baby bump that is! Expecting #2 this September, and it will be the family's first boy. Both families, actually. I, with three sisters, and Mike with a sis of his own, my dad's first reaction was also that shocking realization: "A grandson!! Wow, what do I do with a grandson?!"
Mike's reaction was actually somewhat similar to Gramps' statement. Contextually different, Mike wanted another daughter, to which most friends, peers, and colleagues scoffed, "Really?! Don't fathers always want at least one son?" Anyone who really knows Michael, however, could never dismiss his sensitivity and affection for his baby daughter (or, yes, his beloved dog and wife). He's really surrounded by women most of the time, and so that was my understanding of his desire for another girl.
Hubs and I took the day off together to find out "Peanut's" gender and grab a late lunch to celebrate - whichever blue or pink bundle the stork was planning on dropping by. So, as he deliciously dipped his roast beef Au Jus, I inquired tentatively, "You sure you're okay with a boy this time?" The conversation, as rich as our desserts, was insightful for us both - more so than I expected having known the mind of this man for over a decade; his answer was surprising but sensible. Thoughtful and rational. But still a mystery to me somewhat. I've never doubted Mike's capabilities to be a good dad, as I had seen the way he takes care of so many beings in his life - from friends to puppies to well, you name it. And the way he is with Elle is authentic and genuine and proof of this philosophical pudding. He will bring all that much more curiosity and love for our son, and I can't wait to see him have a 'little man' under his wing. *Unfortunately, his reason is not mine to exploit, so if you'd like to know what his hesitation was all about you can ask him for the juice!
------------------------------------------
So, why the 'Egypt' titular reference, then? As I was on a glorious, breezy, sunny, fresh walk with Winnie and E this morning, my nose brought me back to childhood, raised in earlier years by the comforts of rural Maine. We lived on Egypt Road, in a paradise of ferns, wild blueberries, deer, and moss. My sisters and I were inseparable usually - with one another and Mother Nature herself - and the aromatics from today were reminders of all that exploration as a kid. Today when we returned home, Windsor lay on the grass chewing a tennis ball while Elle and I played with sidewalk chalk, stopping only now and again to munch some goldfish. Barefoot and boisterous, Elliot decided to take off under the front yard maple and feel the lawn under her toes. Her inquisitive stares back caused me to think, was this what my mom experienced with her 4 wood nymphs? I merely nodded with a smile to "okay" whatever question Elle was asking of me, and so she continued to roam the lot (albeit smaller than our kingdom on Egypt), picking up sticks and offering them for Windsor to chew on. The moment was so peaceful and heartwarming. It appeared like one of those full-circle moments under which I was spellbound, gazing upon my little own bean in a way I presume most mothers/parents do. Today I saw myself within her, and writing about it now brings some small, happy tears to my eyes.
Hopefully more news and reflection will present here sooner rather than later. Professionally, I am forging ahead, and I will be happy to share that news soon. But, if you have the chance today - no matter the weather - get some air in your lungs and moss under those toes!
Mike's reaction was actually somewhat similar to Gramps' statement. Contextually different, Mike wanted another daughter, to which most friends, peers, and colleagues scoffed, "Really?! Don't fathers always want at least one son?" Anyone who really knows Michael, however, could never dismiss his sensitivity and affection for his baby daughter (or, yes, his beloved dog and wife). He's really surrounded by women most of the time, and so that was my understanding of his desire for another girl.
Hubs and I took the day off together to find out "Peanut's" gender and grab a late lunch to celebrate - whichever blue or pink bundle the stork was planning on dropping by. So, as he deliciously dipped his roast beef Au Jus, I inquired tentatively, "You sure you're okay with a boy this time?" The conversation, as rich as our desserts, was insightful for us both - more so than I expected having known the mind of this man for over a decade; his answer was surprising but sensible. Thoughtful and rational. But still a mystery to me somewhat. I've never doubted Mike's capabilities to be a good dad, as I had seen the way he takes care of so many beings in his life - from friends to puppies to well, you name it. And the way he is with Elle is authentic and genuine and proof of this philosophical pudding. He will bring all that much more curiosity and love for our son, and I can't wait to see him have a 'little man' under his wing. *Unfortunately, his reason is not mine to exploit, so if you'd like to know what his hesitation was all about you can ask him for the juice!
------------------------------------------
So, why the 'Egypt' titular reference, then? As I was on a glorious, breezy, sunny, fresh walk with Winnie and E this morning, my nose brought me back to childhood, raised in earlier years by the comforts of rural Maine. We lived on Egypt Road, in a paradise of ferns, wild blueberries, deer, and moss. My sisters and I were inseparable usually - with one another and Mother Nature herself - and the aromatics from today were reminders of all that exploration as a kid. Today when we returned home, Windsor lay on the grass chewing a tennis ball while Elle and I played with sidewalk chalk, stopping only now and again to munch some goldfish. Barefoot and boisterous, Elliot decided to take off under the front yard maple and feel the lawn under her toes. Her inquisitive stares back caused me to think, was this what my mom experienced with her 4 wood nymphs? I merely nodded with a smile to "okay" whatever question Elle was asking of me, and so she continued to roam the lot (albeit smaller than our kingdom on Egypt), picking up sticks and offering them for Windsor to chew on. The moment was so peaceful and heartwarming. It appeared like one of those full-circle moments under which I was spellbound, gazing upon my little own bean in a way I presume most mothers/parents do. Today I saw myself within her, and writing about it now brings some small, happy tears to my eyes.
Hopefully more news and reflection will present here sooner rather than later. Professionally, I am forging ahead, and I will be happy to share that news soon. But, if you have the chance today - no matter the weather - get some air in your lungs and moss under those toes!
Sunday, December 22, 2013
the wholistic cleanse
Coming near the end of the year, the arbitrary culmination of a calendar to which we humans subscribe, though Mother Nature and her other creatures carry on seamlessly, it becomes natural for me every 52 weeks to feel the presence of an emotional purge and cleanse. At times, yes, physical too - I have fallen into the trap of pressured resolutions including being another populate at the local gym on January 1. Becoming more active, of course, is usually an "up" compared to wherever you were before, so I can't knock anyone's real hopes for increased health and well being. But as I've noticed throughout 2013, my mentality (fluctuating as our recent weather forecasts in PA!) rules the power of my attitude and perspectives for upcoming goals.
I recently read someone pose the question: What if, instead of crossing items off our bucket list, we work in general towards becoming a better human? Much of what I found this year to be challenging my emotional and psychological harmony was that certain things, or certain events in my life were perceived to be "wrong " or "inopportune" along my path envisioned. So, when confronted with the roadblocks, my brain started to scramble and tears began to unfold. I truly believe in the universe giving us what we can handle, or at least, later on the lesson to what we might have questioned about a given experience; in the tough moments, however, this is difficult to remember.
Overall, I have fewer tough moments than precious and provocative ones. Part of which, is due to the ability to frame positively the goings-on in my life. Working with clients this year has significant challenged that, as I have written in other posts about comparing my work and my life, to their status and/or problems shared. But, being a better human is not about being better than. It's not about being "more" or "less" or even "equal" to the other. It's relative to only yourself. Just as we are responsible in our choices to be happy/sad/destitute/resentful/grateful, I will be better only by moving towards.
I deliberately say "towards" not "forwards," as I have found that progression in becoming better in anything includes some setbacks. This mantra is also often applied to the physical - weight and energy and my liking for my appearance is an ebb and flow, too. Emotionally and mentally, it doesn't seem any different. I have a tattoo on my ankle, a Chinese symbol representing "knowledge," to engage my ambitions of persistently moving towards. It reminds not only my right foot ;) but my soul that becoming better includes constant learning.
So, I hope this time of year brings as much joy to each of you as it does for me; I get all giddy in the nostalgia of family-laden festivities between Christmas and New Year's. Each has always meant more to me than the presents and sparklers. And I encourage joy for each of you, and to take hold of it wholly and purposefully when you get up every morning. Being better, can mean simply to be self-aware. Give yourself the choice and credit to own your feelings! You will be amazed with where they take you...
I recently read someone pose the question: What if, instead of crossing items off our bucket list, we work in general towards becoming a better human? Much of what I found this year to be challenging my emotional and psychological harmony was that certain things, or certain events in my life were perceived to be "wrong " or "inopportune" along my path envisioned. So, when confronted with the roadblocks, my brain started to scramble and tears began to unfold. I truly believe in the universe giving us what we can handle, or at least, later on the lesson to what we might have questioned about a given experience; in the tough moments, however, this is difficult to remember.
Overall, I have fewer tough moments than precious and provocative ones. Part of which, is due to the ability to frame positively the goings-on in my life. Working with clients this year has significant challenged that, as I have written in other posts about comparing my work and my life, to their status and/or problems shared. But, being a better human is not about being better than. It's not about being "more" or "less" or even "equal" to the other. It's relative to only yourself. Just as we are responsible in our choices to be happy/sad/destitute/resentful/grateful, I will be better only by moving towards.
I deliberately say "towards" not "forwards," as I have found that progression in becoming better in anything includes some setbacks. This mantra is also often applied to the physical - weight and energy and my liking for my appearance is an ebb and flow, too. Emotionally and mentally, it doesn't seem any different. I have a tattoo on my ankle, a Chinese symbol representing "knowledge," to engage my ambitions of persistently moving towards. It reminds not only my right foot ;) but my soul that becoming better includes constant learning.
So, I hope this time of year brings as much joy to each of you as it does for me; I get all giddy in the nostalgia of family-laden festivities between Christmas and New Year's. Each has always meant more to me than the presents and sparklers. And I encourage joy for each of you, and to take hold of it wholly and purposefully when you get up every morning. Being better, can mean simply to be self-aware. Give yourself the choice and credit to own your feelings! You will be amazed with where they take you...
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
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