Musings

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Lessons Learned in 31 Years

“By the time she was two, Matilda had learned what most people learn in their early thirties: how to take care of herself.”

~”Matilda,” film (1996)

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I don’t usually have much to say about my birthday.  Usually, it’s “Yeah, so, I had a birthday.  Moving on.  Who wants to talk about Jane Austen?”  But this year, between crossing items off my “31 things” list, coming up with a new “32 things” list, and soon, a recap of a cool road trip we took over my birthday weekend (love when my birthday falls over Columbus Day weekend), I just seem to have more to write about.  Anyway.  Last month, I started thinking about all of the little pieces of wisdom I’ve picked up, either from life experience – I actually have some now – or from family or friends.  Turns out, there are quite a few nuggets in there.  Here are some of the things I’ve learned in my 31 years on the planet:

1.  Habits, once formed, are hard to break.  So form the habits that you actually want to have, like flossing, exercising, and making your bed.  And steer clear of the ones you don’t want – like smoking, a habit I’m glad to say I’ve never had.

2.  You’ll always look stylish if you learn to dress your own figure.  Not your best friend’s, your sister’s, or a model’s in a magazine.  It doesn’t really matter what the trends of the moment are.  If you’re wearing clothes that fit well and flatter you, you’ll look good.  (It took me a long time to learn this.  Related: full skirts are not my friend, unless it’s Halloween and I’m dressing as Tinker Bell.  Clap if you believe!)

3.  Be upfront about what you want.  Once upon a time, I wanted a promotion.  I beat around the bush, complained to hubby, and asked my boss in a very roundabout manner.  I didn’t get the promotion.  The next week, I went out to lunch with my mentor (who I didn’t think had anything to do with my job seniority or position).  I told him why I wanted a promotion, and why I felt I deserved it.  The next day, I got my promotion, and a nice raise to go with it.

4.  Wear earrings.  No outfit really looks complete without them (if you’ve taken the step of piercing your ears, that is).  And trust me – I’ve learned the hard way that you don’t want to go too long without wearing them.  Ouch.

5.  Don’t eat or drink things that make you feel bad.  For example, if coffee makes your head pound and your stomach churn… don’t drink coffee.  Simple as that.

6.  Cut up fruits and veggies the moment you bring them home, and keep them where you can see them.  You’re going to snack (admit it) so you might as well snack on something good.  Plus, produce is expensive, and cleaning out a crisper drawer full of decidedly un-crispy fruits and veg hurts me in the wallet place.

7.  You can’t always choose your circumstances, but you can choose your response.  I’ve learned this several times over, most recently in the NICU.  We didn’t want to have a preemie, and we didn’t expect to have a preemie, but a preemie we had.  I’m not saying it was a joyride, but things did get easier once we strapped ourselves in for the ride and changed our attitudes from self-pity to determination.  Re-writing my response from “This is so unfair!” (it was) to “Let’s do what we need to do so we can get the whole family home,” (we did) got me through some of those long, unpleasant days.

8.  Keep your stuff organized.  You’re more likely to use what you have if you can see it.  This applies to everything from dried beans to yarn to jewelry.

9.  Bloom where you’re planted.  Anne Shirley taught me this lesson.  You won’t always be able to control how or where you live, but you can control what you do with the time you have.  Make friends, create something, volunteer.  There are always opportunities, everywhere.  Plus, if you don’t bloom where you’re planted, what’s the alternative?  To wither.  And who wants to wither?

10.  The more love you give, the more you will receive.  Time spent cultivating a strong relationship with hubby, soaking up all the special moments of Peanut’s childhood, and chatting for hours over the phone with my mom, my brother, my darling sisters-in-law, or my best friends R (from college) and J (from high school) is time very well spent.

There’s more, but I’ve also learned when enough is enough (except with regard to tea and books, that is).  What lessons have you learned in your time on Earth?

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Homecoming Day: The First Anniversary

October 11, 2012, was our fiftieth day in the NICU.  We had been there all day, every day, since August 21st.  I was there on August 31st, the day I was supposed to be in New York with my family for my baby shower.  I was there on Labor Day weekend, and all through September.  Every day, the routine was the same.  Wake up, grab a quick breakfast, and rush to the hospital.  Fill out our form for the day (attesting to the fact that we are not sick with anything communicable), scrub, and walk through the secured doors into our baby’s world.  Every day, we sat by the isolette, talking to Peanut, singing songs, reading stories, giving her baths, changing her diapers, taking her temperature, talking to her doctor and her nurses about her progress.  We were fixtures in our little corner of the room.  And although she was in a room with about nineteen other babies, we had eyes only for her.

By October 11th, we were tired.  The routine was exhausting and we wanted to go home – which is to say, we wanted everybody to go home.  I’d made no secret of the fact that I did not want to come to the NICU on my birthday: that I wanted to spend the entire day on my couch, in my house, with my baby.  Some of the doctors and nurses had shaken their heads dubiously and told me not to get my hopes up, which is a phrase I hate.  (I’m in the NICU.  I leave my baby here every night.  All I have is hope.  Do you really mean to take that away from me?)

Still, we had seen a light at the end of the tunnel, and we knew that Homecoming Day was not far off.  Peanut had been in an open crib since October 4th, and a few days ago, she had ripped out her feeding tube.  (She’d been trying to do this for months; according to one of the nurses, almost all of the babies rip their feeding tubes out at some point.)  The nurse on duty decided to leave the tube out: since Peanut had evidently decided she was a big girl who could take all of her feedings by mouth, the NICU decided to see if she would put her money where her mouth was.  And she did.  She was almost four and a half pounds and she’d passed the car seat challenge, proving she could sit in her car seat for ninety minutes without any problems.  One of the neonatologists had told us that Peanut may be ready to go home as early as Thursday (October 11th), but she wasn’t Peanut’s regular doctor and we didn’t know if he’d agree.

What happened, I believe, is this: Peanut was tired of the NICU too.  She wanted to go home too.  So she decided it was time.

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That morning, we went through our routine as usual.  We arrived in the NICU, performed Peanut’s morning “hands on” – diaper change and temperature – and relaxed with her for a short time.  I headed off to the mothers’ lounge (not going to get more specific than that; ladies, you know what I mean), and when I returned, hubby was beaming.  “We got the discharge!” he announced.  Peanut’s doctor had stopped by for his rounds and told hubby he was thinking of sending us home.  Peanut was only eating 40-45 ml at each feeding, and he’d like her to eat 50 ml, but he believed she could.  So the only question was, did we want her to prove him right here, or at home?  Hubby promptly responded that we’d like to prove him right at home.  He left to visit his other babies and returned shortly with our discharge papers.  We signed what we needed to sign.  I dressed Peanut in a sweet pink and grey outfit, a gift from her Aunt J, which seems impossibly tiny to me now but which was still a bit baggy at the time.  We hugged the nurses goodbye, and we walked out the door.

And now, a year later, here we are.

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One year later, I can almost forget that we spent fifty harrowing days in the NICU.  Peanut has gone from frighteningly tiny to the twenty-eighth percentile, holding her own among her full-term buddies.  She approaches everything with riotous joy (especially dogs, and the playground).  She says mom, dada, fish, kitty, and book (although she doesn’t pronounce the latter three quite right).  She enjoys eating paper and batting at lighting fixtures.  She’s herself.

What a year.

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31 Things: Update 3

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Well, with my 32nd birthday on the horizon, I suppose it’s time to step back and take stock of the year.  (After all, isn’t stepping back and taking stock what bloggers do best?)  Items completed or postponed/cancelled are crossed out.

1. Spend lots of time snuggling and loving Peanut while she’s still tiny.  Most important thing on my list!  Motherhood is magical, and I’m soaking up every moment of it.  This is one loveable kid:

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2. Get into the habit of better skin care.  I haven’t done as good of a job creating a skin care routine as I’d hoped to.  I’ll be continuing to work on this next year.

3. Read the Lord of the Rings trilogy (long overdue).   Done.  Read about my impressions of the trilogy here.

4. Run the GW Parkway Classic 2013.   Calling this one done.  I revised this goal because what I really wanted was to get back into road racing.  My sister-in-law and I ran the Healthy Strides Community 5K in April, and I called it “my icebreaker race” because I was breaking back into this hobby after a long hiatus.  (I ran consistently until January 2012, when I injured my foot.  Then in February 2012, I got pregnant and running felt wrong, so I shelved it for the good of the baby – which I later learned was a very smart thing to do, since I was put first on activity restrictions and later on strict bed rest due to some very uncool, scary complications.)  I’m currently in the midst of training for the Buffalo-Niagara YMCA Turkey Trot (an 8K, or roughly 5 miles).

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5. Take plenty of family hikes with hubby and the little miss.  We’ve definitely done this.  Peanut’s been on several hikes in the BOB stroller and most recently in the Baby Bjorn, on Daddy.  She loves to be worn!  We’ve had so much fun showing her around our favorite trails, including Great Falls.  Can’t wait to explore our new area with our little sidekick in the upcoming year.

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6. Overcome my fear of baking bread.  Um, yeah, this didn’t happen this year.  Maybe next year.

7. See Book of Mormon at the Kennedy Center, summer 2013.  Had to let go of this one.  Maybe next year, on Broadway?

8. Give Peanut a magical first Christmas!  (I can’t wait to be Santa.)  Done!  Read all about Peanut’s first Christmas here.

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9. Finish reading Miss Read’s Fairacre series. Done!  I’ve been meaning to post about the series after finishing it (I did write about binging on Fairacre last year), so look for that soon.

10. Buy myself a Longchamp bag and a new wallet. — Got the wallet; waiting on the bag for awhile.  There are other things I’d rather have right now, so I’m saving my pennies for those instead.

11. Plant a successful herb garden.  This one went out the window when we sold our house and moved to Buffalo.  Maybe in a future year I’ll get it together enough to do this.

12. Read Winnie-the-Pooh to Peanut.  Done!  I can’t even describe how much it has meant to me to share one of my favorite children’s books with Peanut.  Look for a “Peanut’s Picks” post on this in the next couple of months.  ;-)

13. Take up Zumba.  I started going to a class that met during my lunch hour on Tuesdays in DC, and it was a lot of fun.  Now I need to find a class in Buffalo.  My cousin tipped me off to one that I may check out, if it works with the schedule.

14. Knit a sweater for Peanut and a hat for myself.  Made two sweaters for Peanut (including the one pictured below – so sweet) and a sweater for a (former) colleague’s little guy, also a NICU kid.  Didn’t get to the hat, though.  I cast on and then realized that it wouldn’t fit, so I had to frog.  I’m planning to try again as soon as I locate my circular needles.  They’re in a box somewhere.

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15. Toss or donate the clothes that I don’t like but that are still hanging in my closet.  Did this in connection with packing for our big Buffalo move, and it felt great.  I took a carful to Goodwill and was so glad.  I have a few more piles of stuff that made the move because I ran out of time for errands, but that’s all destined for Goodwill soon, too.  The process was cathartic, but it did lead to some “What was I thinking?” moments.  Like the white blazer; very “optometrist chic.” #yesthatisarealthing #actuallynoitisnt

16. Attend Potomac Paddle 2013.  This didn’t happen, and I’m disappointed about that.

17. Reconnect with an old friend.  I did this.  I actually had someone else in mind when I wrote that goal, and I still need to reach out to her.  But the person I did manage to reconnect with is also special to me, and I’m glad that we re-kindled our friendship.

18. Have a playdate with NICU mom friends. Did this!  Two of my mom friends from our NICU brought their little guys over and Peanut had a blast playing with her friends.  It was so much fun to have little boys in the house, and I loved catching up with their moms.  We didn’t manage to get together again before I moved, so I’m extra glad we made it happen once.

19. Paint my bedroom purple. Didn’t happen.

20. Break in and wear my silver ballet flats. Done!  Well, not my silver ones, but I broke in my black ballet flats and they’re now my go-anywhere, do-anything shoes.  In fact, I wore them so much that I now need them resoled.

21. Re-read the Anne of Green Gables series.  Done – or will be by the time my birthday rolls around in a week!  Look for posts about each individual book, and then about the series, coming over the next couple of months.

22. Climb Old Rag.  (This one: maybe not so realistic.  I’d need to train a lot and find a babysitter.)  Didn’t happen.  I need to find a good, challenging hike for next year.  Maybe one of the Adirondack 46 hikes?

23. Knit another pair of socks.

24. Buy a fabulous pair of shoes at a great price. I found these gorgeous ladies on the 70% off rack at Shoes by Lara, an independent shoe store near my office in DC.  Don’t mind if I do!

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25. Bake a pumpkin spice cake.  Delicious.  I had originally planned to make this my birthday cake, but hubby has something else in mind.  🙂  So I made it in honor of his first week of work at the new job and we took it over to share with the grandparents after a day of apple-picking.  Yum.

26. Take Peanut to the beach.  Another one I let go of this year.  Maybe next year.

27. Get to know the women in my neighborhood better.  Lots of stop-and-chats on walks, and I definitely felt part of the neighborhood.  Just in time to move.

28. Get back into a regular yoga practice.  Didn’t do this, but I’m hoping to be better going forward.  Moving has made me really tight, so I need yoga in my life again.

29. Start a baby box for Peanut.   Done!  I have an adorable baby box and I’ve been keeping up with it as Peanut has special milestones.  I’m also faithfully filling in her baby book.

30. Start a frame wall in my foyer.  Not going to happen in our rental.  Maybe this will be something I can do when we buy a house again.

31.  Lots and lots of family time with hubby and Peanut.  Did this.  We were lucky in that we had some time together in Buffalo right after we moved, before hubby started his new job.  And before (and after) he went back to work, we enjoyed plenty of weekend outings and morning and evening snuggles together.  I love those two nuts.

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What a fun year it’s been!  I can’t believe how many of these items I’ve actually crossed off.  My first full year of parenting, a big move, and lots of family time.  I’m lucky for sure.  Next week, check back for my “32 things” list.  There’ll be two items on there that are BIG (don’t get too excited, though – they have nothing to do with babies).

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More Musings on Introversion

The Introvert's Way: Living a Quiet Life in… (Image Source)

Last week I finished The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World, by Sophia Dembling.  It was a slim little book and didn’t really include much information that I hadn’t already come across elsewhere.  But it was a fun read and wonderfully affirming, since it was mostly focused on encouragement of the “Your personality is FINE!” variety.  In my reading round-up from last month, I mentioned that I had nodded so much while reading this book that I felt like one of Dwight Schrute’s bobbleheads.  There were so many places of recognition.  For example…

The Introvert’s Pet Peeve

Don’t you absolutely hate it when strangers shout “Smile!” at you?  Scarcely anything bugs me more.  First of all, stranger, I don’t know you, so why should I grin at you like an idiot?  If I’m going to give myself smile lines, it’s going to be for people I actually know.  Second, this is my face’s natural position.  I look serious.  Do I screech at you things like “Why so giddy?”  No.  Simmer down.

The “Dog and Pony Show”

Dembling frequently visits the topic of her “dog and pony show” – what she calls her efforts to be social in a crowd.  I recognized this too, except I call mine “my game face.”  The dog and pony show, or the game face, is an essential introvert skill – that is, unless you want people to think you’re a hermit.  But when you’re good at it, people come to expect it all the time, not realizing how completely draining it is.  After I’ve had my game face on for awhile, I need to retreat somewhere silent, not talk, not listen to anything, to read or even simply be.

And another thing about the dog and pony show – when you’re really good at it, people inevitably express surprise to hear that you’re an introvert.  It’s flattering, because it means you come across as engaging and social, but hearing “No way!” over and over does get a bit wearying.  Dembling spreads the word that introverts are perfectly capable of being social when called upon to do so, but it’s a tiring endeavor for us.

Introvert-Extrovert Relationships

Dembling spends a good deal of time discussing relationships between introverts and extroverts.  Usually, she is referring to marriages or romantic relationships, which would be an interesting dynamic, but not one with which I’m familiar.  Hubby and I are both introverts, so we both understand the other’s need to unwind with quiet time.  I’m not offended when hubby says that he’s going to stay downstairs for a bit after a long day because he needs to unwind – I understand exactly how he feels.  So I simply read upstairs until I’m tired, then turn the lights out, and he’ll go to sleep when he’s ready.  It works.

But I am familiar with the dynamic between parents and children of opposite personalities.  My mom is introverted, but my dad is very extroverted.  When I was living at home as a teenager, I often worried that I was a disappointing kid because I’d rather stay in with a book on Friday night than go out riding all over town with other kids.  My dad would make suggestion after suggestion: “Why don’t you call so-and-so?” “Why don’t you see if Jane Doe wants to hang out?”  I know now – and really, I knew then – that he was just trying to be helpful, and that a big gathering of friends would be exactly the way he’d like to unwind after a long week, so he figured I’d feel the same way.  I didn’t, though.  I was tired from school and from having my “game face” on for five days straight, and I wanted to retreat to a quiet place and recharge.  He was probably worried that I wasn’t having fun, while I couldn’t figure out how to let him know that I was having fun, in my own way.

Over the years, I learned to pre-empt any suggestions by making my own plans on Friday and Saturday nights.  I’d make arrangements to hang out with one or two friends, at quiet places where we could actually have a conversation.  And once I got married, I could just go on a “date” with my husband – problem solved.  I also learned, however, that it’s important for parents to recognize that, well-meaning as they might be, it doesn’t help to try to compel a kid to fit into a particular mold.  I’m never going to be the Friday night party girl.  I’m okay with that.  But you know who might be?  Peanut.  She’s too young to have introvert or extrovert tendencies (although she might be an extrovert, given her efforts to befriend people at other tables whenever we go out to restaurants) but someday she will.  And if she turns out to be an extrovert, I may not understand some of the things she thinks are fun, but I’ll try to respect her wishes as to how and with whom she spends her time.  (With the caveat that she’s not going to be allowed to do anything dangerous or illegal, of course.  As long as she’s safe, I will let her tell me what will make her happy.)

Tips for Introverts

Dembling’s got plenty of experience navigating social situations as an introvert, and she’s happy to share what she’s learned.  A few good ones:

  • Be selective in how you spend your energy.  You don’t have to say “yes” to every invitation.  Attend the parties and events that are really important to you, and politely decline the others.
  • Ignore people who call you a “party pooper” or tell you that the party won’t be fun anymore if you leave early.  If you want to go, go.  However, if your presence is important or the host really needs your support, grit your teeth if necessary and pull out the “dog and pony show.”  Your true friends deserve your support.
  • Feel free to arrange social encounters on your own terms.  (This is a tip I’ve been applying for years.  For example, I hate loud bar settings.  I don’t find myself in them often these days, but I get extremely tense in a noisy environment where I have to shout to be heard.  So for years, if I wanted to catch up with friends, I’ve planned to meet them for tea, or at a park for a walk – somewhere quiet, where we can really talk.  And then I’m happily asleep at 11:00 when others are shouting themselves hoarse in a bar.)
  • Guard the quiet time in your schedule.  Dembling describes a revelation she had when planning her schedule for a conference: she decided not to attend any events after 7:00 p.m.  At that time, when others were out fighting crowds at parties, she was relaxing in her hotel room.  And the next day she was refreshed, recharged, and ready to network her way through the day.  As someone who attends my fair share of conferences, I thought this was brilliant.

Are you an introvert?  Do you have a game face that fools people, too?  What are your pet peeves and favorite tips?

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31 Things: Update 2

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I can’t believe I’m nine months through my personal year already.  Time is just flying by.  I’m going to have to dial up the effort on some of these things, or else I won’t get many of them crossed off in time for my birthday in October.  Yikes.

1. Spend lots of time snuggling and loving Peanut while she’s still tiny.  Most important thing on my list!  Peanut isn’t particularly cuddly right now.  She’s in a phase where she wants to sit up and see the world and be involved in everything.  If you try to hold her like a baby, unless she’s reeeeeeeeeeally tired, she’ll have none of it.  But we play together every day, and we laugh and act silly, and I lavish kisses and hugs on her, and she loves that.  She’s a cherished baby for sure.

2. Get into the habit of better skin care.  Um, well.  I’m still hydrating like a maniac and I eat tons of fruits and vegetables.  The routine is touch and go, though.  I’ve been blessed with good skin, and I’m lazy so I rarely wear makeup, and that adds up to looking decent without much effort.  I want to glow, though.  So I need to work on this.

3. Read the Lord of the Rings trilogy (long overdue).   Completed!  I finished The Return of the King in May and it was my favorite book of the trilogy, although they were all fantastic.  Look for a post on my impressions of the series coming next week.

4. Run the GW Parkway Classic 2013.   Calling this one done.  I revised this goal because what I really wanted was to get back into road racing.  My sister-in-law and I ran the Healthy Strides Community 5K in April, and I called it “my icebreaker race” because I was breaking back into this hobby after a long hiatus.  (I ran consistently until January 2012, when I injured my foot.  Then in February 2012, I got pregnant and running felt wrong, so I shelved it for the good of the baby – which I later learned was a very smart thing to do, since I was put first on activity restrictions and later on strict bed rest due to some very uncool, scary complications.)  The Healthy Strides race was my first foray back into running, and I’m looking for the next one now – a 10K, maybe, or another 5K.

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5. Take plenty of family hikes with hubby and the little miss.  In progress!  We’ve been enjoying the heck out of the nice weather recently, taking lots of walks in the neighborhood and along the Mount Vernon Trail.  Soon, hubby and I are planning to bring Peanut to our favorite area park, Great Falls (the Virginia side).  I can’t wait to see her big eyes take in the incredible waterfall there.

6. Overcome my fear of baking bread.

7. See Book of Mormon at the Kennedy Center, summer 2013.  This isn’t going to happen – I missed out on tickets and haven’t found a trustworthy babysitter yet (other than Auntie Em and Aunt Grace, but they’re far away, and Nana, but she’s leaving us soon.)  Bummer.  Maybe I can sweet-talk hubby into Broadway tickets and a weekend in the city next year.

8. Give Peanut a magical first Christmas!  (I can’t wait to be Santa.)  Done!  Read all about Peanut’s first Christmas here.

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9. Finish reading Miss Read’s Fairacre series. Done!  I’ll have a post coming soon about this one, too.

10. Buy myself a Longchamp bag and a new wallet. — Progress: hubby got me a sweet wallet – fabric printed with a map of the London Tube, which is a conversation-starter every time I pull it out – for my birthday last year.  I might get the bag for my birthday next year.  I’m watching for a sale.  If I don’t see a sale, I may shelve this one.

11. Plant a successful herb garden.

12. Read Winnie-the-Pooh to Peanut.  Done!  I can’t even describe how much it has meant to me to share one of my favorite children’s books with Peanut.  I think she enjoyed it too: she’s been bugging me to let her write a “Peanut’s Picks” post on it.  😉

13. Take up Zumba.  I found a class that meets on my lunch hour, a block from my office, every Tuesday and have been going whenever I can.  I’m incredibly awkward and I have NO rhythm, but it’s so much fun and a great workout.

14. Knit a sweater for Peanut and a hat for myself.  Progress: I finished another little pink cardigan, but I still need to sew the buttons on (and I’d better get on that, because Peanut is growing like wildflowers).  The hat for Mom was on hold as I worked on a baby sweater for a colleague’s kiddo, but I just sent that off and I’ll be picking up the needles for the hat any day now.

15. Toss or donate the clothes that I don’t like but that are still hanging in my closet.

16. Attend Potomac Paddle 2013.  I don’t think this is going to happen, but you never know.

17. Reconnect with an old friend.

18. Have a playdate with NICU mom friends. Did this!  Two of my mom friends from our NICU brought their little guys over and Peanut had a blast playing with her friends.  And I learned something: boys and girls really are different.  Both of the boys were mobile (one was full-term and one a preemie like Peanut) and my house looked like a hurricane had hit it when they left!  They scooted all over the place and were into everything, while Peanut sat primly on her blanket like a little princess and chewed on one of her stacking cups.  It was so much fun to have little boys in the house, and I loved catching up with their moms.  I’m so very glad I made the effort to get in touch with those ladies and get everyone over for a playdate.  We’re talking about another get-together in August – I hope it happens.

19. Paint my bedroom purple. This isn’t going to happen this year.  Boo.

20. Break in and wear my silver ballet flats. Done!  Well, not my silver ones, but I broke in my black ballet flats and they’re now my go-anywhere, do-anything shoes.

21. Re-read the Anne of Green Gables series.  Starting it soon, I hope.

22. Climb Old Rag.  (This one: maybe not so realistic.  I’d need to train a lot and find a babysitter.)  Definitely not going to happen this year.

23. Knit another pair of socks.

24. Buy a fabulous pair of shoes at a great price. I found these gorgeous ladies on the 70% off rack at Shoes by Lara, an independent shoe store near my office.  Don’t mind if I do!

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25. Bake a pumpkin spice cake.  I’m going to do this for my birthday in October.  Stay tuned!

26. Take Peanut to the beach.  Hoping for a weekend with Aunt R in Virginia Beach before she leaves for another extended adventure.  We’ll see…

27. Get to know the women in my neighborhood better.  Lots of stop-and-chats on walks, and I’m feeling more a part of the neighborhood than ever before.

28. Get back into a regular yoga practice.  This has fallen a little bit by the wayside as I’ve been more into Zumba lately, and of course my old stand-bys (running and circuit training).  I’m on the lookout for a convenient Mommy & Me yoga class, though.

29. Start a baby box for Peanut.   Done!  I have an adorable baby box and I’ve been keeping up with it as Peanut has special milestones.  I’m also faithfully filling in her baby book.

30. Start a frame wall in my foyer.

31.  Lots and lots of family time with hubby and Peanut.  In progress, always.  We make the most of our evenings and weekends together.  Being a working mom is tough sometimes – okay, all the time – but I’m squeezing in quality time with my sweet girl whenever I can.

Dad, did you see all these pizza toppings?

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2013: Six Months In

What's so funny?

Uh, someone please explain this to me.  The year is six months old?  My baby is ten months old?  Huh?  What is going on here?

This can’t just be work haze.  2013 is flying by, right?  Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels like I just put away the Christmas decorations and here it is July.  (This might need to be said: I actually put the Christmas decorations away in January.  I might be new-mom lazy, but I’ve got it together a little bit, at least.)  Anyway, it seems it’s that time again: time to take mid-year stock of goal progress.  Or time to face the music, depending.

BLOG

1.  Keep up a M, W, F posting schedule consistently all year – no blog breaks.  So far, so good.  I missed one Friday, but otherwise, I’ve been here.

2.  Stay informed about current events in the literary world, and post about them.  I think I’m doing a passably good job about this.  Since January, I’ve told you about the 200th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice; Scholastic’s 2012 Kids and Family Reading Report; ten literary places to read in the most literary city in the U.S.; new cover designs for Anne of Green Gables and the Harry Potter series; and the proposed merger between Penguin and Random House; and Amazon’s purchase of Goodreads.  And of course, I participated again in National Poetry Month.  I haven’t kept up with the literary news as much into the spring as I was, so there’s room for improvement, but I’m feeling good about this one.

3.  Shoot a new header that reflects the spirit of the blog.  I haven’t done this yet, although I do have a good idea for a shot.

HOME

1.  Get the rest of the house painted (even if I have to hire professionals to do it).  Uhhhhh, nope.

2.  Hang curtains.  Haven’t done this either.

3.  Plant an herb garden, and don’t kill it this time.  Hahahahahahahaha.

FITNESS

1.  Get back into road racing.  I made a start, running in the Healthy Strides Community 5K with my sis-in-law.  I had my eye on a 10K in July, but I think that’s off the table since I haven’t been training.  Maybe something in September?  It’s a process, but road racing was something that I enjoyed once upon a time, so I’m committed to making it a part of my life again.

2.  Get into a regular yoga practice.  For awhile at the end of the year, I was attending yoga classes regularly.  But when I went back to work, I wanted to spend my weekends with the baby and not driving to yoga by myself, so this goal hasn’t been going too well.  I do work yoga poses into my daily routines, so that’s good, and I’m actively looking for a weekend “Mommy and Me” yoga class that works with Peanut’s schedule.

3.  Join Stroller Strides and attend regularly.  Haven’t done this yet.  I was waiting for flu season to pass, and I just lost track of time.

READING

1.  Really, really read more books I already own.  I mean it this time.  ROTFL.  Have you heard about my library shenanigans?  I’m not even going to link to them, because they’ve taken over the blog.  In the second half of the year, I do mean to read books from my own shelves, and lots of them.  I do.

2.  Read at least one classic every month.  I’ve done this!  The Fellowship of the Ring and The Snows of Kilimanjaro in January; The Two Towers and The Scarlet Pimpernel in February; Mrs ‘Arris Goes to Paris in March; Selected Poems by Anna Akhmatova in April; Fire in the Blood and The Return of the King in May, Villette in June; and so far in July, I’ve finished Main Street on audio.

3.  Explore more non-fiction.  I’ve been doing this, too – in fact, I have a post about it coming up next week.  So far this year, I’ve read a memoir about a couple renovating an olive farm in Provence; a compilation of searing advice columns by Cheryl Strayed; a poet’s memoir about walking England’s Pennine Way; a round-up of the stories behind classic French dishes; an audiobook of meditations for knitters (reread); a historical adventure in which two reporters raced each other around the world; a life of Leonardo da Vinci as viewed through the lens of his painting The Last Supper; a guide for travelers to fourteenth century England; and a love letter to walkable Paris.  In the second half of the year, I’m hoping to explore more history, more biography and memoir, and sprinkle in a little spirituality too.

LIFE/FAMILY

1.  Seek out ways to be a better wife/mother, and practice them.  I’m always working on this.  Some days, I think I do a pretty good job.  Other days, I have a long way to go.  It’s all part of the journey of life, right?

2.  Practice gratitude even when life gets challenging.  This one has been tough.  Hubby and I are both under a lot of stress, individually, related to various things that I don’t consider blog material.  Some days, it’s really hard to be grateful for… well, for anything.  But I do my best to count my blessings every single day, whether I feel particularly blessed or not.  And I do have lots of blessings: a house that, while it may be a work in progress, gives us a very comfortable home; a job that pays the bills and lets me buy the little incidentals that make life fun; the opportunity to live and work in an exciting place; a wonderful husband; and a sweet, cute, fun, and healthy baby.

3.  Love my little Peanut wildly.  Easy!  Peanut is the brightest spot in hubby’s and my world.  When she shrieks with joy at seeing me walk through the door in the evening, when we dance down the hall singing “This Little Light of Mine,” when she eats her board books while staring at me defiantly, when she smiles at me and reaches her arms out to be picked up after a nap… well, she’s impossible not to love.  Even when she’s being a little stinker… she’s my little stinker, and I’m crazy about her.

How’s your 2013 going?  Can you believe the year is six months old already?

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What Would Marmee Do?

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I just finished reading The Mother-Daughter Book Club, the first in a middle-grade series by the same name.  I’ve been meaning to read this series for awhile and I’m finally getting around to it.  The premise is so sweet: a group of moms organize a book club for themselves and their sixth-grade daughters.  The moms and daughters read Little Women together while the girls navigate the drama of sixth grade, asking all the while, “What would Jo March do?”

For the most part, I really liked The Mother-Daughter Book Club.  It was cute and the characters were engaging, and I enjoyed seeing Little Women through a different lens.  But there was one thing that really bothered me, and days later, it’s still nagging at me:

I didn’t like the way the moms made fun of another mom in front of their daughters.

Mrs. Chadwick is not a pleasant character.  She’s the town shrew, she’s mean, she expels the book club from the library, and she’s the epitome of helicopter parent.  She actually chastises a mom because her kid, in Mrs. Chadwick’s opinion, took her son’s place on the youth hockey team (even though her son can barely stand up on skates).  She also turns a blind eye to the bullying done by her daughter, Becca, the school snob.  When Becca steals another girl’s diary and reads it aloud to the victim’s crush, Mrs. Chadwick refuses to chastise her.  She also yells at one of the book club girls after Becca violently shakes the girl’s five-year-old brother by the arm.  Much of what Mrs. Chadwick does throughout the book is very much not okay.

However.  Mrs. Chadwick’s distinguishing physical feature is a large posterior, and the other moms vent their frustration about her high-handed tactics toward their book club by commenting upon it, incessantly, in the presence of their daughters.  They teach the girls to play a “synonym game” where they use synonyms for “big” in front of Mrs. Chadwick (who, true to form, doesn’t realize she’s being mocked).  Toward the end of the book Mrs. Hawthorne, the town librarian and organizer of the book club, comments, “Now that’s what I’d call a caboose.”  When the other moms gasp “Phoebe!” Mrs. Hawthorne turns red (even though she’s made the occasional nasty comment about Mrs. Chadwick before – she’s not the worst offender, but she’s hardly innocent) and begs them not to tell her husband what she said.

Your husband? I thought.  Who cares what he thinks?  Worry about them not telling your daughter – or actually, don’t, because she’s sitting right there and heard it for herself.  And if she isn’t already wondering, Emma Hawthorne will be soon beginning to question whether it’s okay for the other girls to comment upon her weight – which they do, even her friends – given that her own mother fat-talks another mom.

The book club moms have quite the double standard for what’s okay.  On the one hand, they heavily chastise and nearly expel one girl from the club because she turns a blind eye and participates in bullying.  But then they gang up on another mom.  They exclude Mrs. Chadwick from the club because she’s not in their yoga class (although, as Mrs. Hawthorne acidly remarks, yoga would do her some good).  They purport to instruct the girls on how to treat one another even when they’re bullying another mother.  Practice what you preach, ladies.  Forget Jo March.  What would Marmee do?  I can tell you one thing: she wouldn’t fat-talk another mom in front of her little women, no matter how irritating that other mom was.  I kept hoping for one of the moms to realize this and put a stop to the behavior, but none of them did.

Girls absorb a lot of information through their moms – not only from being spoken to directly, but from watching them too.  As Mrs. Hawthorne says, little pitchers have big ears.  The moms of the Mother-Daughter Book Club clearly know better, but what they’re teaching their daughters – even while giving lip service to kindness – is that bullying is okay if it’s someone outside your social circle.  That consideration and gentle treatment is reserved for your friends and when it comes to your enemies, all bets are off.  The girls spent the book listening to their moms tell them to treat one another nicely, but then watching them tear another mom down.  That’s a lesson that will stick with those girls, and not in a good way.  I don’t know if it’s something I would have picked up on before having Peanut, but now that I have a daughter I try to think about the example I set for her.  I want her to grow up treating herself and others with kindness.  I’m certainly not planning to preach one behavior and model the opposite – because girls are always watching, and they notice everything.  Peanut’s young yet, but ten years from now she’ll be embarking on her own middle school journey and when she does, she’ll have a mom that sets an example for her, and she’ll certainly never hear me fat-talking another woman.  I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I am going to try as hard as I can to never tear down another woman in front of Peanut.  I hope that in the second book, Much Ado About Anne, the book club moms will set a better example too.

According to the publisher’s description Much Ado About Anne, the moms invite Mrs. Chadwick and “snooty” Becca to join the book club in the next book.  So I’m hoping that one or all of them had an attitude adjustment and realized that they were behaving in exactly the unkind way they were warning their daughters against.  I’m not going to stop reading the series, because I really did enjoy the first book.  The premise is a lot of fun, and I did love the characters.  But if Peanut ever picks up this series, she and I will definitely talk after the first book about the moms’ behavior and how it relates to what she may experience with girls in middle school.  I’ll explain to her that sometimes moms make mistakes, and that it’s wrong to make nasty comments about a person’s appearance no matter how old you are.  And I’ll try my best to practice what I preach, because that’s what both Marmee and Jo would do.

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Ranting in Three… Two… One…

It’s only Wednesday morning, and already it’s been one tough week.  I like to keep this space positive and not use it for complaining or venting – that’s what calls to best friends are for.  But there’s been stuff that has been getting me down this week (warning: most of them are traffic-related) and I just want to get it out.  So.

Dear fellow commuters:  When you see a space of about a car length in front of me, please don’t assume that it was put there for your use.  It’s called a “cushion of air,” and in case your driver’s ed teacher wasn’t as good as mine, let me explain: it’s so I don’t hit the car in front of me, which until a moment ago was not you.  I’m generally a nice driver and I probably let more of you in than other drivers, but dang if you’re not taking advantage of me with this cutting-off business.  And that’s just not cool.  I have places to be, too.  Also, green means go.

Dear left lane lurker:  Are you trying to enforce your own brand of speed limit vigilante justice, or are you just clueless?  The left lane is for passing.  If you’re not passing, MOVE OVER.

Dear rubberneckers:  Why do people do this?  Seriously, I’ve never understood it, so please explain it to me.  First of all, the people on the side of the road are probably having one of the top five worst days of their life, and you staring at them isn’t making it any better.  Remember, there but for the grace of God go you.  How would you like it in their place?  And there is a line of cars behind you that would prefer to just get home at the end of a long workday, rather than stopping to stare at a car accident.  So can we please stop gawking at these poor people and just go about our business?

Dear cyclists:  Look, I’m a big fan of bikes.  I’m not one of those drivers who resents your presence or who refuses to share the road.  I have a road bike myself, and I would totally ride it to work if I lived even a little bit closer (as things stand now, it would take me two hours each way).  But some of you don’t seem to understand that you have to follow the rules of traffic, and that sharing the road goes both ways.  That means that when I’m driving through a green light and you’ve got a red light, you’re supposed to stop.  Breezing through the intersection – causing me to have to come to a screeching halt with a line of cars behind me – and then flipping me off (?!?!?!?!) is most uncool.  You’re making all cyclists look bad, and as a cyclist myself, I don’t appreciate that.  If we want to be taken seriously by drivers, we need to obey the rules that are put out there for our protection, ya follow?

Dear rat race:  I know, I know.  I know I just have to accept you, since I can’t escape.  I really do like my job.  I enjoy what I do, and I work with nice people.  And I also understand – and completely accept – that there are going to be days when I have to stick around the office after-hours to get something done (or work on a weekend) and I’m perfectly okay with that.  I make good money, and if I made any more, it would come with serious sacrifices of family time, so I’m happy with the balance I’ve struck.  But when Monday and Tuesday both keep me in the office late – Monday so late that I just barely pull into the driveway in time to tuck the baby into bed – well, my heart breaks a little bit.  Being a working mom stinks sometimes.  I know it could be worse.  I only have one job, and it’s a good one.  But I miss the baby all day, every day, and it’s not getting any easier.

Dear 24-hour day:  My house is a mess, I barely have time to cook, I have guests coming into town, and you keep ignoring my requests to add another couple of hours.  What gives?

Ahhhhhhh.  I feel better.  Thanks for indulging me.  Back to our regularly-scheduled geeking out about books on Friday.

Damn it feels good to be a gangtsa.

Damn it feels good to be a gangtsa.

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Healthy Strides Community 5K

I didn’t write anything specifically in response to the terrible events of a few weeks ago in Boston, mostly because I didn’t think I really had anything meaningful to add to the discussion.  Most of the things I could think of to say had already been said, and said better, elsewhere.  But Boston has been in my thoughts.  It’s not a city where I’ve spent much time, although my brother went to college there (at Boston University) and I’ve loved every too-brief visit I’ve made there.  I have many, many friends in Boston – just how many, I didn’t know, until my Facebook feed filled up with the reassuring “We’re okay!” messages after the bombing.  And I later found out that the sister of a dear friend, who ran in the marathon that day, was at the finish line when the explosions occurred.  She was unharmed and I know everyone who is acquainted with my friend and his family is incredibly relieved about that.

Kara of it’s a dog lick baby world, a running and parenting blog that I really enjoy, made a good point about the horror of the Boston marathon bombing, at least for anyone who runs: normally when you hear about these terrible tragedies, you think “I can’t imagine…” but what is truly horrifying about this bombing is that you can imagine it.

I’m a slow runner, and I will never, ever qualify for the Boston marathon – and I’m okay with that, because I just want to get out there, run, have a good time, and try to live a healthy lifestyle.  But even though I’ll almost certainly never complete this particular race, I’ve run in other races, including one major DC race that is popular and crowded enough to attract similar unwelcome attention.  I can honestly say that when I was running in that race (back in 2011), it never occurred to me that someone might attack the finish line.  I sort of thought I might faint at mile 8 and never actually see the finish line, but the idea of a tragedy of Boston marathon magnitude… nope, never entered my mind.  It sure will the next time I register for a big, popular race, though.

Last weekend, my sis-in-law and I lined up for the Healthy Strides Community 5K at Burke Lake Park in northern Virginia .  It was a tiny little community race – even tinier, probably, than it would otherwise have been because it was scheduled for the day before the Nike Women’s DC Half Marathon.  E’s goal was to run every step of the race.  My goal was to have fun and finish my first race as a mom with a smile on my face.  We both achieved our goals.

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The race started at one of the picnic shelters and continued on shady park roads.  The 5K course was a simple out-and-back – a little hilly, but fun nonetheless, and with pretty lake and woodland views to distract the runners from their burnin’ lungs.  As I covered the course, I thought about how much I’ve missed this running community.  My last race was a freezing cold trail 5K over Valentine’s Day weekend in 2012; I spent the 3.1 miles wondering why I felt sick to my stomach and nearly collapsed at the finish line.  (Unbeknownst to me at the time, there was a microscopic little Peanut who had taken up residence and was making my stomach churn and my head swim throughout the race.)  I stopped running early in my pregnancy because it felt wrong, and later realized that it must have been my “mother’s intuition” speaking – and I was glad I had listened to that inner mama, when I was put on activity restrictions and then bed rest for pregnancy complications.

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I’m not sorry I took that time off from running, because I needed to do it for Peanut, but I’m glad to be back now.  I missed the excited chatter at the start lines, the encouragement from fellow runners on the race courses, the volunteers who give up their weekend mornings to hand out water and shout things like “Good job, runners!” for hours, and especially, the burst of adrenaline and pride upon crossing the finish line (whether it’s a 3.1 or a 13.1).

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I thought about Boston while I was running in this relaxed, low-key 5K.  I thought about the people who worked so hard, and logged so many miles, to get to the start line – and the finish line – that day.  My slow, plodding “icebreaker” 5K was for them.  I also thought about the journey I’ve personally taken over the past year – from pregnancy to delivery at 31 weeks, parenting in the NICU, and then finally getting some of the normal life I craved back.  I thought about the kind of mom I want to be – an active mom, who teaches her kids that it’s fun to get outside and move – and how this slow 5K was just the beginning of what I hope will be many, many years of demonstrating a healthy lifestyle for Peanut and her potential future siblings.  And I remembered how, when I was stuck on the couch trying unsuccessfully to hold Peanut in last summer, I yearned for the ability to do just this very thing: to go outside and put one foot in front of the other.

Yes, I really missed these people and this sport.  And I love that we’re all still here, still getting out there, still toeing the start lines and sprinting across finish lines.  A little community 5K in a northern Virginia park is no Boston marathon – no one would claim that it is – but when you’re standing at a start line, you feel solidarity with runners everywhere.  Fast, slow, beginner, advanced, new mom, old pro, we’re all friends and we’re all still here.  We’re in this thing together and we won’t be scared off.

I’m already looking out for my next race.

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The Time I Was Almost Recruited By The Big Red Marching Band

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It was my first week of classes, freshman year at Cornell, and I was walking “home” to my dorm, with my khaki messenger bag slung over my shoulder, while the late August Ithaca sun baked down.  As I strolled under the Balch Hall archway, I attracted the attention of a rowdy group of upperclassmen.

“Everybody wants to join the Big Red Marching Band!” they were shouting, adding witticisms about their group’s fame and excruciating coolness.

The Big Red Marching Band was famous on campus, along with the a cappella groups.  No music geeks they…  Or perhaps they were, but on a campus where everyone flew their “nerd” flag with pride, they might as well have been rock stars.

“Hey, you!” one of them shouted after me, a little teasingly.  “Do you play an instrument?  You look like you play an instrument!”

“Yeah!” I called back, with a teasing note of my own, “But I don’t think you want me!”

Two of the upperclassmen raced up to fall in step beside me.  “Yes, we do want you!” one of them insisted.  “What do you play?”

I stopped and grinned at them.  “The violin.”

Their faces fell for an instant, but they recovered quickly.  “You can join the marching orchestra!”