Coming up for air

Awhile back, I opened up and wrote about my struggles with post partum depression.  I felt so touched by all of your support and feedback, and it really lifted me up to know so many out there could sympathize with what I was feeling. 

 

 

I am feeling better.  I take it day by day, but I am.  However, I have my moments.  I'm probably too hard on myself.  It was only just six months ago when Aubrey was born, but I'm the kind of person who expects a miracle overnight.  I should be fine by now, right?  How much longer does this go on?  When will I stop feeling that immense sadness wash over me at times?  When can I consistently concentrate at work?  When will I stop feeling so bad about myself?

 

 

Just putting this out there, but if there are any of you who have an answer to this...do share.

 

 

The truth is, I'm struggling.  I'm having an extremely hard time juggling the work-life balance.  I'm a mother, but I am also the director of an organization.  I'm the boss.  The buck stops here.  And not only am I the director of an organization, but one that is going through an extreme funding crisis.  And it's legal work, which is in and of itself, inherently stressful.  I'm somewhat of a newlywed.  I have this new life to take care of and nurture, someone who depends on me for everything in this world.  I have just come out of a high risk pregnancy, ten scary months of "what ifs."  And I'm struggling.   

 

 

I don't like admitting that.  Because I am super woman, right?  I should be doing it all. 

 

 

But I can't. 

 

 

This past weekend, it was just me and Aubrey.  T was on a work trip, and these work trips he has to go on are super intense.  I can go days without getting to speak to him, only through text.  My brother came down and kept me company on Saturday, but Sunday was hard.  Aubrey was particularly fussy, and I had work I had brought home with me.  I always have work to bring home with me.  I chose not to do said work because I had other stuff to do, as well - laundry, cooking, preparing lunches for the week...washing bottles, constantly changing Aubrey.  (Not sure if this is a solid food thing, but the kid poops a lot now.  A LOT.)  And constantly moving her from sitting with me, to the bouncy seat, to a blanket on the floor, to her play mat, because she gets bored quickly.  By the end of the day, as I gathered through text messaging T that I wasn't going to get to speak to him, I just wanted to cry.  In fact, I did. 

 

 

Our vacation was my break, but that is now over and gone, no time off in the near future.  I feel so guilty if I bring work home with me because I should be nurturing my relationship with T and spending time with Aubrey.  But if I don't bring work home, I'm stressed during the day.  And I don't have time for my Mary Kay business.  Or my friends.  Or my family.  I feel like I'm letting everyone down, and more importantly, I feel like I'm letting myself down.  I am the hardest person to please, you know. 

 

 

I still have those moments where I will be working away and all of a sudden something triggers it - that sadness.  And then I'm done.  Some days I feel like I'm just a walking zombie getting through my day.  We'll get home from Columbus, and I wonder how I managed to drive us home. 

 

 

And I am still receiving some treatment for all of this, but honestly, I thought the post partum was only supposed to last a short time.  Once those hormones leveled off, right?  It should be quicker than this, right? 

 

 

Sorry for my ramblings...but this sure was cathartic.

 

Keeping up the motivation

 

Happy Motivation Monday, everyone!  Hope you all had a good weekend, and hope you're off to a good motivational start to your week.  Personally, I despise Mondays with every fiber of my being, but...T comes home Tuesday night so I'm actually happy about this Monday.  Because it means one more day until he's home!


Anyway, I've been pretty good at following my working out goals and eating right.  I have managed to work out one way or another for at least five days a week, running about 3 of them.  If T runs in the morning, then I do Taebo when I get home.  And Aubrey watches and just thinks it's hilarious.  Oh Aubrey, yes, Billy Blanks is hilarious :-)  I'm getting really into this running thing.  I've only run outside once because it's been ungodly hot out, but I've done pretty well on the treadmill.  I can now walking for for four minutes, run for six, walk for four, run for six, walk for three and run for seven.  I'm trying to slowly increase my running increments so that eventually I can run for a mile straight. 


At the same time, I have a mini marathon to walk in just over a month.  Yikes!  I think I'll get there, but finding time to do long walks is tough.  I did an hour and fifteen minutes this weekend, and I'll try to go even longer next weekend.  I'm guessing my time for the mini will be something over three hours, and I managed to do it before so hopefully I can do it again.  But...it'll be interesting.  I do want to sign up for a mini in May next year so that I keep myself motivated.  Who knows?  Maybe I can run some of that one!  (Not the one in September, mind you...)


And the eating healthy thing, I'm working on.  Cutting down my alcohol intake, I've started drinking soy milk at night, eating salads for lunch and less sweets and carbs.  Sure I'm hungry a lot, but...I think my biggest problem is snacking when I'm bored or stressed at work.  Mind over matter, right? 


I won't tell my actual post-baby weight, but....I have lost about 3 pounds!  So that's progress, right?  My ultimate goal is to finally put away those maternity pants.  I refuse to buy new dress clothes for work.  So I'll get there...slow but steady wins the race. 


The biggest thing I really need to work on?  Drinking more water.  I bring three bottles with me to work, and I rarely get through even one.  I get so busy, I just forget to drink, which could be part of the reason why I'm starving.  T is always on me to drink, so that's something I will be working on this week, in addition to keeping up the progress. 


So that's my motivation this week...what about you?  Join in on the fun by writing a motivational post of your own, including the link to this meme and then copying and pasting your link to a comment on this post.  Super easy!  I think it's been ages since I've gotten some good motivational participation so jump on in! 


Have a good Monday, everyone...or as good of a Monday as you can!

In the end, you just have to laugh about it

This week's Spin Cycle, brought to you by Gretchen at Second Blooming, is one on comedy. I, unfortunately, don't have any jokes to share. However, this week I'd like to share with you something that happened to me in 2008. It was one of those situations where it was only funny after the fact. But now, I find it downright hilarious.

 

 

It has to do with guinea pigs. And why I will never ever own one again.

 

 

Back in 2007, I read this article that said people who have pets live longer and are less lonely. I was living on my own at the time, so I decided to get a pet. I didn't want to jump into the commitment of having a cat or dog, so I chose a guinea pig. I had hamsters when I was younger and a guinea pig in law school so I figured I could handle it. So I went to Pet Smart and picked a black and white guinea pig. The teenager who helped me checked the boy/girl area and determined she was a she. So I named her Ruby. I brought her home in hopes that she would make my apartment just a little less lonely.

Well, she didn't really do much. She just sat there, was never really active. So at the suggestion of a friend, I got Ruby a roommate. I went to Pet Smart again, and a different teenager helped me and gave me another female guinea pig. I named her Pearl. I happily took her home, and I quickly introduced her to her new BFF Ruby. And as soon as I put Pearl in the cage, Ruby chased her down and immediately got on top of her. I, of course, freaked out so I called my brother, who had guinea pigs of his own. "Is this normal? It seems weird." I told him. But he reassured me that it was totally normal. Ruby was just establishing her dominance. So I took that advice for what it was worth and life went on as normal.

Pearl began to grow and got a little chunky, but she was so young when I bought her so I thought nothing of it. That is...until....

 

 

Easter evening, when I came home from my parent's house, I entered my apartment and took a quick glance at the cage. And I saw them. Three little balls of fur. Sitting there all huddled together in the cage in a corner. What. The. Hell. I ran over to the cage, and sure enough, baby guinea pigs. How in the hell did this happen? I frantically called my brother, and as soon as he answered the phone, I let him have it. "You said that Ruby was establishing dominance!" He told me to calm down and asked what was going on. "Babies! There are babies! You said that Ruby was just establishing dominance. But they were doing it! They were doing the nasty in my living room. Right in front of me. God!" He started laughing, and I told him that this was no laughing situation. "Balls of fur! Balls of fur every where!" He continued laughing and said "well, it's an Easter miracle!" "This is an Easter disaster!" I yelled. I kind of freaked out not remembering what species of animal ate their young shortly after birth. Did guinea pigs do that? How much longer did I have? So he asked, well, which one is the male? You need to get him out of there. Which one was showing maternal instinct?  "I don't know which one is a he. They're ignoring them.  Britney and Kevin are just sitting over there in a corner away from their children. No one is being maternal!" "Well pick them up and look." "Hell, no, I'm not digging around their junk!  That's disgusting!" "Well, put your hand in there, and the mother should go to her children." I reached in there, and instinctively, Pearl moved my direction towards the kids. So it was Ruby. Ruby was a he. Ruby was a Rudy. Or a Ruby was sexually confused. I didn't know.  AndI didn't have a cage to put him in. So I quickly ran and got a trash can from my bedroom, threw out the trash and put him in it. "Dammit, I have to go. I have to get something to put him in." So I hung up on my brother and rushed out the door to buy supplies. Food, an extra cage or something to put Ruby/Rudy in and food. I'd figure out the details later.

 

 

 

I found a plastic Rubbermaid thing I used to keep Ruby/Rudy in. I put him next to the other cage so he and Pearl could share prison visits but no conjugal ones. The next day I called a vet's office to ask what I could do. Apparently, you have six weeks to keep the kiddos with their mom because they still nurse off of her, but you best be getting rid of them at six weeks because then the boy kids will start having some Oedipus complex and will start procreating with the mother. Gross. So I took the entire cage to the vet, as well as a picture of them to see if the vet staff could help find homes for them. I can't recall which ones were boys or girls. I didn't really care so I named them Marsha, Jan and Cindy. One of them had a bit off ear, probably when the mother was "giving birth" or whatever guinea pigs do. So I figured that one was Jan. "Poor Jan." I managed to find homes for the babies. Thank the Lord.

 

 

 

So some time passed...well, a few weeks, between Easter and my birthday in late April. I had plans to go out with friends and my siblings so my brother and his wife came over to pick me up. My sister-in-law picked Pearl up to play with her, and she started feeling around and said "Hey, Nain? I think she's pregnant." No. No, no, no. Did you all know that guinea pigs don't waste any time getting it on after they have a baby? In fact, if you don't catch them as soon as those babies are out, they'll get preggers again. And that's what happened. That little slut got knocked up again. "Pearl! You whore!" I whispered to her. Sure enough, she had gotten chunky again. I thought it was just that weight you gain after a baby. But she got big this time. I mean REALLY big. Like softball size big. So I feared there were more than just three babies in there this time. And I was correct.

 

 

A short while later, I came home one day and my fears were confirmed. There were five now. Five. I mean, don't get me wrong...these babies were cute. But five? Holy cow. I quickly named them - Jermaine, Tito, Jackie, Marlan and Michael. And again, I headed back to the vet's office to determine sex. At this point I was so over the guinea pigs. I momentarily debated just letting them go into the wild. But I did have a heart. So I managed to somehow find homes for them yet again. However, I did have some stragglers. Ruby/Rudy was still in his cell, and Pearl and another baby were in the other cage. (A girl baby, mind you...I wasn't making that mistake again.) Did you know how much poop six guinea pigs can create? Seriously, I was cleaning poop every other day. Like I said...I was over the guinea pigs.

 

 

I did end up finding homes for Pearl and the other baby. My brother's friend had two children, and one is autistic and was so excited to have the two pets. So I knew they'd be going to a good home. I did keep Ruby/Rudy until the end. But I swore...never again. If Aubrey ever says "Mommy, can we get a guinea pig?" That will be responded quickly with a resounding NO. No freaking way. They are little sluts, those guinea pigs.

 

 

So while this may not be a joke or comedy...well, it may be a comedy. It's one of those situations where you can only look back on and laugh. And learn. Never again.

So stop by Gretchen's blog and see what other spinners have to share. And be careful with those guinea pigs, people!

I love you

I remember the first time T and I told each other I love you. I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. I think deep down we knew it for awhile before we actually said it. I was more hesitant than T because I had gotten my heart broken so many times before I said it. But I knew it.

More than anything, I remember a moment before we said those words. I'll always remember that moment. It was mid-September of 2008, which is ironic because our wedding anniversary is September 18th, 2010. We had gone downtown that day to the Irish Festival. I was volunteering that day there, and he met me after my shift was over. We had dinner with a good friend of mine, and it was her first time meeting T for that required "best friend approval." We headed back to his apartment for the weekend. I always liked staying at his place...not sure why, but I always felt more at home there. I was sad about something at the time, and we were sitting out on his apartment balcony just talking about it. He pulled me onto his lap and reassured me that what I was sad about was fine and not to worry. As I sat there, I looked deeply into his eyes, and he looked right back at me. His expression quickly changed, and I could see it in his eyes. It was like he had this moment of clarity, an "aha" moment. But whatever it was, I saw something in his eyes change. I, of course, got all self-conscious thinking something was up, and he said he could see something in my eyes. I asked him what, and he just said "something." I knew what that something was because I felt it too. I so wanted him to say it, though. For a brief moment, I wanted to say it, but I stopped myself. There was no way I could say it first. What if he didn't reciprocate? What if I said it and things would go really well and then we'd break up just like had happened so many times before? So I didn't say it. But I felt it in my gut.

T tells me to this day that was one of those special moments he'll always feel in his heart. Me, too. I still get that feeling in my gut when I look into his eyes today. I felt it the day we were engaged. I felt it the day we were married, standing up on the altar saying our vows. I looked so deeply into T's eyes, I could see my reflection in them. I felt it the day Aubrey was born as I lay there on the surgery table and held T's hand as he told me it would be okay.

We're so busy, and we're new parents so I have to admit, we don't always take the time to appreciate moments like those. I know there are days where we go without looking into each other's eyes like that. We're too tired, too busy, too distracted. I know it happens to so many couples. And some of them never get back to that feeling. And I vow to never become one of those people.

From that moment on, I have always known I would spend the rest of my life with T. I felt it in my gut. I still do. I love him more every day, and seeing him as a father to my daughter and seeing that look of love in his eyes when he looks at her, too, just makes me fall in love with him that much more.

I am not sure what made me want to tell that story. I'm not sure why I've never shared it on my blog before. T's away on a business trip right now, and he will unfortunately be gone for five days. My heart aches that he'll be so far away, and I know he'll be missing both me and Aubrey. So, T, I know we may not get to talk every day these next few days, but this post is written just specially for you. I love you more than words can say. Come home soon. We miss you...

 

  

You know you're getting old when....

On Sunday, as T and I were cleaning our house, I was hit with a huge sense of "Oh shit."  It was somewhere around the point where we were almost done cleaning the bathrooms, and I got this huge feeling of accomplishment and, dare I say, excitement about having a clean house.  "What happened to me?" I asked T.  I used to be that girl who would be able to out-drink her male companions and dance on bars.  I used to go weeks on end without cleaning and not really care.  Hell, I used to never be at my apartment.  Here I am, enjoying cleaning?  On a weekend?  Really? 


You know you're getting old when you purchase a Swiffer Wet Jet at Sam's Club and say to your husband "this is totally going to revolutionize the way I clean our floors!"  And get giddy when you finally get to try out the product and use any excuse possible to use it nightly. 


You are old when purchasing items in bulk excites you. 


You are getting old when all you want to do on a weekend evening is going to bed at nine because the idea of sleep is what excites you.  (Actually, this could mean you're old OR you're a parent.  Or both.)


Or you get excited about using a food processor for the first time to make your own baby food.


You're old when, in doing my grant reporting, looking at dates of birth for children in these cases, it always amazes me at the year where a "child" is no longer a child legally.  And I think about how old I was at that point in time and what I was doing. 


You're old when you can't drink anything caffeinated past noon because you'll never fall asleep that night. 


Or when you're talking to someone about the Olympics when you were a kid, and you find yourself saying something like "oh, I loved that skater from East Germany."  And remember a time when there was an East and West Germany. 


Or when you only listen to the 80s and 90s station on XM because, to you, all of the new pop music sounds exactly the same. Or it's some cookie-cutter teen from Disney.


Or when you're walking with your husband at a tour of the Budweiser brewery, and the tour guide points out a building that was constructed in 1982 and some punk next to you points at it and tells his friend, "wow, 1982?  That's like 30 years old.  That's old."  (And yes, I wanted to punch him.  Hard, too.)


Or when your nephew, who was born when you were 15 years old, is learning to drive.  And you remember him "driving" around his toy train when he was just two years old. 


Or when you're writing a post about how old you are....


Either way, these days, I'm feel a little bit older.   Is it 4:00 p.m. yet?  Time for the early bird special?

Can I have it all?

I recently read an article by Ann-Marie Slaughter on Why Women Still Can't Have it All.  I'll admit it...the title of it stuck out to me.  Mostly because of my recent post about the whole issue of daycare and being a working mom.  So is it possible?  Can I have it all?


The attorney in me is going to give a typical attorney response...


It depends. 


It depends on what your definition of all is. 


I think I can have it all.  I want to have it all.  I just think...and this is the part of where I still struggle...I need to adjust what my expectations of "all" are. 


I aim for perfection.  If I do something, I better do it correctly.  And perfectly.  Flawlessly and no mistakes.  If I'm going to be a working mom I'm going to be the best mom ever and the best executive director ever.  I'm going to do everything expected of me and more.  And the truth is? 


I can't.  I simply can't. 


What has happened from these high expectations, this standard of "hell yes I can have it all - just watch me!" is biting me in the butt.  I'm stretched too thin.  I'm taking on entirely too much.  We've had to make staff cuts at my agency due to funding reductions, and once the specific staff person left, her responsibilities then became my responsibilities, in addition to the full-time ones I already had.  And I keep volunteering for more and more things.  More deadlines come up, and I find myself working all the time - the 8 hour work day, doing work while T drives us to and from work in our 45 minute commute, I work after we put Aubrey to bed, I work during the weekends...I think of tasks and what to do while in the shower and on the treadmill...and it's still not enough. 


I'm now doing work events in the evening, too...grant interviews, public outings to publicize our agency...and it takes me away from Aubrey and T.  And I hate that because I only get a good two hours with Aubrey in between daycare and bed.  I get home, and she's in bed, so I just get to peek in and see her sleeping peacefully.  But no interaction.  So I want to spend all the time I can during the weekends with them but also, at the same time doing my Mary Kay, making sure the house is clean, exercising...preparing for a mini-marathon in September...


I'm nearing the breaking point.  However, I don't want to give up all of it.  I do still think I can do it all.  I just don't know if I can take on as much as I am with each job.  Something has to give.  I have to adjust my expectations of what all of it is.  Do I need to do it all myself at work?  Or can I delegate?  Or can I prioritize?  Why am I looking for perfection all the time? 


And am I being a good enough Mom to Aubrey even though I can't dedicate all of my time to her?  Does she know that I love her enough?  Am I being as good as all of those awesome moms I see on Facebook all the time, making their own food, going to Mommy and me classes, documenting every waking minute of their child's life?  Am I doing this well enough? 


So I guess, in my rambling here, the answer is yes, I can do it all.  Can I do all of what I'm doing at this current moment in time, juggling everything and trying to be everything to everyone?  No.  But can I have a career, friends and a family and lead a healthy and happy life?  Yes.  I just need to find that balance. 


In my spare time, that is...

   



Motivation Monday!

  

Happy Motivation Monday! I have to say, I'm feeling pretty good about my motivational goals from last week because I really am meeting them.  (Go me!)  Last week I actually worked out every week day for 30 minutes, running for 4 of those days...well run/walking but still totally feeling good about it.  And staying on task at work?  Done.  I have made a point of not getting on blogger or Facebook during the work day, and it's amazing what you can get done when you're not distracted by social media.  And that's a very good thing because I have a ton to do, and I have to stay focused.  (This kind of just furthers my wondering if getting off Facebook permanently is a good thing...)  Anyway, my first big motivational goal is to keep it up.  Let's do this, Nain!  Two weeks in a row, baby!

 

 

The only sticking point I see coming up is I will be acting as single parent starting Thursday this week.  T is leaving for a work trip on Thursday and will be gone until Tuesday so it'll just be me and Aubrey.  But I think I can still keep up the exercising.  If I get up early enough and take the monitor with me to the basement, I could get a good run in before she gets up.  We'll see how this works.  She does enjoy watching me do Taebo, too....she sits there in her bouncy chair laughing at Mommy kicking and punching.  I'm sure it looks quite hilarious. 

 

 

I've also been pretty good at not snacking and eating healthy.  This is taking some huge will-power on my part.  I've started bringing yogurt and salads as my lunch and cutting on the carbs.  I've also signed up for a program that will be beginning August 20th.  I really want to lose some weight to help 1) with my self image and esteem and 2) my health, mainly my heart.  If I drop some weight, I will also lower my blood pressure without medication, which is what I truly want.  So my big motivation is to keep this going.  Week one was good, let's see it through another week. 

 

 

I do miss my junk food, though.  Ordering something at a restaurant and saying "can I substitute a salad for the fries?" is hard.  Because those fries look pretty darn tasty.  And my pregnant self totally could have gotten away with that.   But no longer.  Stay strong, Nain, stay strong. 

 

 

So that's my motivation for the week...what's yours?   It's easy to join in...just write up a blog post telling everyone what motivation you need this week, link up to my blog through the cool button on the right of the screen and leave a link to your post in a comment...and voila!  You're linked up :-)

 

 

So let's get this week started...right!