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Four Years Later

Wow.  I can’t believe it’s been exactly four years since I’ve updated this.  Today was my first day unemployed.  A friend took me out for coffee this morning and my mom took me to lunch.  The rest of the day was spent on little odds and ends and watching the first 5 episodes of House of Cards.

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Progress

Lately, it seems that everything is two steps forward, one step back. And I need to keep reminding myself that the result is still moving in the right direction.

At work, I am in the middle of transitioning all our accounting systems. We are also considering a major redesign of our website. This is exactly what I was doing at this time last year. But I’m a year wiser.

At home, we are potty training a toddler. We have days when I think it won’t be too much longer and days when I feel like he’s never going to want to be completely out of diapers.

But all these things are moving forward. Slowly–and more complicated than I had thought, but forward nonetheless.

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Finding Time

Every week, I think about updating this blog. Back when I was on LiveJournal, I updated nearly daily for a year or so, but then I had kids. And the posts weren’t as frequent.

In some ways, I feel like I have very little to say. But my life is so much fuller than it was before kids. What on earth was I writing about before that I wanted to make time for?

My goal is to update this site weekly. I want to find my groove again, get the creative juices flowing. I think scheduling a specific time during the week is what I’m going to have to do.

Since Friday nights have some built in down time for me, that’s what I’ll plan on doing. I’m putting this down in writing and in public to hold myself to it.

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Second Pregnancy

It’s funny how so much is the same and yet so much is different the second time around.  With my son, J, the pregnancy was almost magical.  Sure, there was the discomfort and the downside of being pregnant (no wine, caffeine, sleep, etc), but I felt special.  I felt connected to the baby inside me.  With my second child that magic was missing.  I didn’t feel as connected and often forgot I was pregnant.  My body was far more tired and easily distressed.  It wasn’t a bad pregnancy, but the only real thing I will miss about being pregnant is the vivid dreams.  I loved dreaming in what seemed to be high-definition.

However, now that my little girl, A, has arrived, I feel the magic.  I recovered much faster than I did the first time and I’ve really enjoyed my maternity leave and all the time I’ve spent with her.  I love how she is constantly tracking where I am and how she looks up at me with perfect trust–and lately a tiny smile.  There are big smiles too, but the tiny ones seem to have more meaning–maybe because they are reserved for when we are snuggling.

I only have one more week of leave before going back to work.  I plan to enjoy it and not worry about what will happen the following week when her dad takes over from me or even the week after when she finally enters daycare.  Right now is our time.

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Waiting

Written on June 28:

I’m sitting on my bed with the laptop on what’s left of my lap–mostly my knees actually.  Our second child is theoretically on its way–I’ve had very mild, inconsistent contractions since 6 pm last night.  Every once in a while, they intensify, but there’s no reason to call a midwife or drive to a hospital yet.  The baby isn’t due until Tuesday, the 30th, but everyone knows due dates are pretty arbitrary.

My son is with his grandparents and will go visit his cousins today.  I just don’t think I can chase him around and keep his busy two-year old mind entertained.  DH is frantically trying to finish our roof.

I just want to be done with it.

I wasn’t like this the first time.  I was so nervous about labor/delivery and how much work a newborn would be.  It’s not that I’m not nervous now, but we’ve gotten through it once and I know we’ll get through it again.  I’m tired of being tired.  I’m tired of not being able to get on the floor and really play with my son.  I want to be able to drink a glass or two of wine.

I also want to meet my little girl.  If she’s anything like her brother, she’s going to be amazing.

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Happy New Year

We went to my brother’s annual holiday bash on New Year’s Eve.  About every year, the party is really cool and other years, there is some sort of drama that puts a damper on the entire evening.  This year was somewhere in between.  It just wasn’t as much fun this year.  My brother and his wife outdid themselves as usual, but it just seemed that a lot of the people just didn’t want to do much.  DH was excited to go, but he got overly drunk, which happens on rare occasions, and got to be highly annoying.  He also made me pull over on the way home so he could throw up.  He was miserable, so I didn’t feel a need to lecture or show too much displeasure.  Granted, he knew I was annoyed.

We went to see Seven Pounds today.  It’s been a long time since DH and I have actually seen a movie in the theater, so we thought to take advantage of Justin being at daycare. 

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it here, but I’m about 14 weeks pregnant–meaning Justin will be an older brother sometime around June 30.  This pregnancy has been very different as far as morning sickness (more of it and longer lasting) and food cravings/avoidances.  In fact, my midwife told me today that I lost 2 lbs over the holidays!  She was concerned about my protein and calcium intake, but I’m pretty sure that the fact that this baby won’t let me eat sweets and that I’ve been chasing Justin around the couch a lot lately has had something with my weightloss.  And it’s not like I couldn’t stand to lose some weight–I started this pregnancy at the weight I was when Justin was born.  Not that I’m trying or anything.

DH is bowling tonight and I’m about to write my holiday thank you notes.  I remember the days when I went out and partied every Friday night.  Amazing how I have absolutely no desire for that anymore.  Especially after watching the effects of alcohol on DH and other family members on New Year’s Eve.

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Last week, a 19 year old decided to end his life.  He’d been kicked out of his house; his girlfriend had broken up with him, and he’d been fired from his job at McDonald’s.  But ending his own life wasn’t enough for him.  Apparently, he felt that he was a nobody–and he wanted to go out in a way that would make him famous.

So he decides to shoot up a mall in Omaha, Nebraska.  A mall where a very close friend of my coworker worked as a store manager.  Maggie had nothing to do with this guy.  She didn’t know him; she didn’t know his ex-girlfriend.  None of his victims had anything to do with his situation.

So what gave him the right to end their lives along with his?

I remember when I was attending therapy sessions with a former fiance for his alcoholism, the counselor stated that suicide is the ultimate F*ck You.  In his experience, most suicidal attempts were made because someone was mad at those around him/her.

I’m upset that the media has released the gunman’s name and picture.  It’s exactly what he wanted.  I know that no one will remember his name in a year or two (except for the friends and families of his victims), just like no one remembers the name of the boys from Columbine or the boy in Red Lake.  I understand that, but I felt that the media made too much information available.  I don’t want to see how some victims found ways to hide or hear his message to his landlady.

I don’t get why if you want to die but you want to be remembered, you wouldn’t find a way that would make people think that you were a better person than you probably are.  Run into a burning building, go and donate a kidney (not that you’d die from that, of course), but be a positive influence in people’s lives.

When I was in high school, there was a group of boys a year ahead of me.  They weren’t popular.  They came to school in black dusters or trench coats.  But rather than get angry about how different they were, they published the first zines I ever read.  These zines sold for a buck or two and came with stickers.  They were the rage.  Anyone who was anyone was reading these things, which were nothing more than writeups about what these guys were interested in (mostly snowboarding and alternative rock), some photos, and some quotes heard around school.

It’s sad when anyone decides to end their own life.  It really is.  However, it’s truly evil to kill innocent people in the process.

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