Make It Work, baby!

Last week was trying. Mostly in good ways, but I've decided it's probably not healthy - mentally or physically - to be that busy. Which is ironic, considering that's how I spent my high school and college years. I'm not sure how, but I made it through last week. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster, to say the least. DS is teething something major. I think his molars are coming in, though he won't let me look and bites me if I try to get a feel. That led to a rather sleepless night last Sunday (before my trip), which led to both of us passing out around 7pm on Monday night. So I got nothing done that evening. Tuesday and Wednesday night were meetings, and I got home at 10:30 and 11:00 pm, respectively. Thursday night was departure night! My flight didn't leave until Friday morning, but I wasn't driving and the ladies who were lived 20 mins away, and closer to the airport. It would be a bit much to expect to be picked up at 4:30 am just so I cold h...

This has been a stressful week. The new job is going well, but I have two meetings (one yesterday and one tomorrow) at which I must represent my new company, take notes, and write something intelligent for distribution. That would be much, much easier if I had any clue what was going on. A lot of the information is highly technical, and my English degree didn't include a concentration in trade policy. My new boss understands, though, and just wants to expose me a bit more to the industry. I wonder if they'll be serving wine at the lunch meeting tomorrow? I could certainly use some fortification. In addition to work stress, one of my part-time web business clients has given me a slew of information to post and set up this week. And that would normally be ok, except the 3rd week of the month is my "meetings week." LLL and ICAN meetings Tuesday and Wednesday night. Even with the stress I'm not willing to miss those - they keep me grounded. And to top it off, this...

I haven't blogged in a while (sorry!), but this week the blogosphere has been exploding and I can't NOT write. A study came out this week that concludes that breastfeeding saves lives and money. Obviously, it met with a LOT of contention as it touched on that most sacred of all mommy-wars topics, breast vs. formula. How sad it is that we as a society, and as women, have come to such a silly dichotomy. Instead of addressing the issue head-on of WHY more women don't breastfeed exclusively for 6 months (currently <14%), we bicker about guilt trips, power trips, and egos. I've been following The Feminist Breeder for a long time, and her post on the issue hit the nail on the head, in my book. Yet glossing over the comments, there are still women who got angry at Gina for her statements. If breastfeeding is physically impossible for you, why would that make you feel guilty? Allow me to throw out my own crazy analogy. If you happened by a car wreck, and saw someone tr...

My baby boy is one year old. His birthday came and went without much fanfare. A birthday card from his great-grandparents. A birthday phone call from my MIL. A little extra snuggling time as I realized how fast he's grown, and how he won't fit in my arms much longer. Thankfully, his birthday was tear-free for me. No repressed memories struggling to the surface. No panic attacks with fuzzy recollection of  the lights in the OR. I guess this means I'm really back to myself - that calm and happy person who rarely cries and never in front of others. Who has her shit together and confronts each day with a plan and a purpose. Maybe things are a bit more helter-skelter than they were pre-baby, but I wouldn't have it any other way. In the end, he's totally worth it.

The DC area has been hard-hit with snow this Winter. I must admit, I've loved every minute of it. The snow has been absolutely beautiful to watch fall, and it really offers a sense of peace to my busy world (the blizzard we had earlier this week notwithstanding). My favorite part of all the snow? I didn't have to go to work! Staying home with my baby (DH is essential personnel, so he worked all week) has been wonderful. We played together. Took long walks through the snow. Rolled around on the bed and stayed in our PJs all day. Tried new foods and I tried my hand at baking. Danced to music, read books, and rocked ourselves silly. I was supposed to go to work today, but my bus never came. Oh well! So I'm working from home today, but it's not the same. I'm stuck at my computer (clearly working hard - don't judge it's lunch time!), and Adrian is enjoying lunch with his sitter. (One day I'll write a little more about her.) I actually took a shower and go...

My baby is 11 months old today. It's hard to believe that much time has gone by already. He's still not crawling or walking. He's not clapping, saying words, or waving. Sometimes I'm afraid that I've already failed him as a parent. But no. My baby is happy and healthy. He laughs and smiles. Gets frustrated and intrigued. Communicates through facial expression, tone, and posture. Eats like a horse and nurses like a champ. He may be a bit behind all of the milestones, but for now I'm still OK with that. I'm not crying tonight because of my perceived inadequacies as a parent. Instead, I'm remembering where I was 11 months ago. How I felt. There was some joy. There was a lot of love. But it was mostly horror. Pain. Sorrow. Frustration. Helplessness. Failure. "From his mother's womb untimely ripped."  I had a cesarean section. It is really, really hard for me to write about this. Especially in a format that lays bare so many other pe...

Every day I have a roughly half-hour commute to work in the mornings. The afternoons are my chatty Kathy times, but mornings are reserved for reading. Sometimes news, sometimes novels, but today it was poetry. I was fortunate enough to study poetry in college under Pulitzer Prize winning poet Claudia Emerson . Much to my shame, I never took the time to read her award-winning work until now. But I'm so glad I waited. The me of my college years would not have appreciated the depth of feeling with which she writes, especially in the book Late Wife . About her first failed marriage, the time in-between, and her second marriage to a widower, there was a lot that spoke to me. After college, I decided to get married and get a career. A practical one that paid the bills and allowed me to live comfortably. Several of my classmates went on to get their MFAs in creative writing and got to take their skills to the next level, though I don't know if any of them have been (monetarily) su...