Given the grouchy mood that I can't seem to shake, it only seemed appropriate that I spend some time writing about reasons to smile. Because I love lists, here's 25 neatly numbered reasons:
1) Camp Fire is finally taking shape and the curriculum planning has been a blast! I have loved the process of figuring out how to start this club and I'm looking forward to running it even more.
2) My current status as a stay at home Momma allows me to spend lots and lots of time at the school, volunteering. This is one of the things I have been most looking forward to and I'm grateful that I get to give my time and energy to the people who are teaching our children.
3) My hair is finally what I want it to be. It's been years since I've been happy with it.
4) Every morning, when Connor wakes up, he crawls into my arms and holds me for 10 minutes before he can function. I love those 10 minutes and look forward to them every day.
5) The 2 minutes I spend every morning driving away from the school, without any children in my car, are some of the happiest moments of my day.
6) The smile on Connor's face when he gets off the bus and the way he immediately launches into tales of his day are also some of the happiest.
7) My friends and the smiles they always have for me never fail to make my day brighter. We really do have the best circle of people ever.
8) Despite a 3-day heat wave, Autumn is marching closer every day. When I drive to the farm stand each Saturday to get our weekly produce, the pumpkin fields get more and more orange. Makes this cold-weather lover happy.
9) We have a home, enough money to feed and take care of our family and little extras that make it all worth it. I never want to be someone who forgets to be grateful for those gifts.
10) Kelly. Marriage is not always a cake walk, but in the end, my best friend is by my side each night and the first smile I see each morning.
11) Listening to the kids' conversations during the morning and afternoon drives to and from school. I pretend to read, but really, I'm listening to them and learning so much about what they do and how they view the world. It's fascinating, funny and unnerving all at the same time.
12) The progression of pot-smoking rights in this country. We get closer every day to a world where alcohol isn't the only legal option to take the edge off.
13) Apples. Apples are my favorite fruit to eat and cook with and this is their season! Yay for applesauce, apples with caramel and apple crisp!
14) Miley Cyrus. I know, I know...this one is weird. But honestly, watching people be so crazy makes me happy. I like crazy. I like chaos and I keep my life pretty ordered. Watching someone else's chaos makes me happy.
15) Bailey and all her fucking spunk! Lordy, that child will never, ever let me rest...but god, I love her! She is so driven, funny, crazy, sweet and loving. She makes me so proud every day.
16) Our bed. I know this is a weird one, but honestly, our bed is the best ever. Every single time I get into it, I'm happy we purchased it and I can't imagine ever being comfortable without it. :-)
17) Christmas is coming. There are only 104 days until that magical day and many fewer until I can actually kick off the holiday season!
18) Macho Sluts. It's a great book and one I can't stop reading, even though I've read it a million times since last year.
19) MichFest and knowing that every day bring me closer to next year.
20) Nights around the fire pit, friends over for BBQ's and lots of beer. This is my favorite part of Autumn.
21) Football. I finally get a year where I can care again. Since the kids have been born, I have taken on the job of keeping the kids occupied so that Kelly could watch football. Now they are old enough to handle it themselves (basically) and they even like to watch with us! Football is finally what I was hoping it would be...
22) A few of our friends have some pretty awesome things going on in their lives. I am so happy for them and I love sharing their joy.
23) Guacamole. This is probably not a great reason to be happy...but guacamole on everything makes it better. Yum!
24) Therapy. I have health insurance now, and with it, therapy benefits. I can't wait to get started...
25) And last but not least...miraculously, the 3 1/2 years I went without seeing a doctor didn't seem to phase my body. I am in good health with no issues, I'm strong and have been exercising more, eating better and sleeping more. These are good, good things.
What about you? What makes you smile today?
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Another Goal
Every tried West Coast Swing??
If you haven't, it's like swing dancing meets ballroom dancing meets hip hop. It's sexy, it's suggestive, it's physical and it's fun as HELL! At least, the people who actually know how to do it make it look that way. I'm just starting and can barely keep my tongue in my mouth while I try not to embarrass myself too much tripping over people's feet. Ugh. That part is horrible.
But I've been practicing at home and I assume that next time I go will be better.
My goal? To get really good that this shit and then lead a workshop at MichFest. Because, really? A bunch of women doing this shit with no men in sight? Mmmmmm....
If you haven't, it's like swing dancing meets ballroom dancing meets hip hop. It's sexy, it's suggestive, it's physical and it's fun as HELL! At least, the people who actually know how to do it make it look that way. I'm just starting and can barely keep my tongue in my mouth while I try not to embarrass myself too much tripping over people's feet. Ugh. That part is horrible.
But I've been practicing at home and I assume that next time I go will be better.
My goal? To get really good that this shit and then lead a workshop at MichFest. Because, really? A bunch of women doing this shit with no men in sight? Mmmmmm....
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Letting Go
Yesterday was one of the most difficult experiences of my life.
It was Connor's first day of preschool. For anyone who knows the history, Connor has never really liked being away from home or away from me (and Kelly...but I'm his primary because I'm home). He's a homebody in the most extreme sense of that word. He's also pretty introverted and prefers the company of people he knows. He DOES NOT like new situations.
Last year, we pulled him out of a 2-hour a day program because he despised it. He was 3 and just not ready. I still feel like we made the best decision for him. This summer, he got pulled out of swimming lessons because it was such a traumatizing experience. Again, I feel like we made the right decision for him at the time, in the circumstances. He's not ever really done any extracurricular activities, because he doesn't want to. He has no real interests that we can figure out yet. Granted, he's only 4...
So, despite making a series of decisions that were best for Connor in the moment, I think we created the problem that happened yesterday. Connor completely lost his shit when it was time to go to school. The plan was for his sister to walk him to his classroom where he would be met by Ms. Summers and Ms. Handley - two people he has known and who have known him for nearly two years. He love them and they love him. He's been to their classroom and we've been talking about school for months. There were no surprises, nothing scary about what he was doing. Hell, there was nothing unknown.
But still, he lost his shit. It went down just before we left. He got ready without issue, knew he was going to school and knew that it was going to happen today. But as we left the house, he started crying. And I don't mean just a little whimper. It was a complete, fear-based cry complete with begging us to let him stay home and spoken wishes about school going away forever. He clung to us, he screamed when we put him in the car. The entire way to school, he sobbed and begged and carried on. It was so bad that I texted his teacher and asked her to come get him. I then changed my mind when that seemed to scare him even more. When we got there, we pulled out of the car line because there was no way that he was going to get out of the car easily. He was refusing to move. We parked and got the girls out of the car and then talked with him. We got him out of the car and the terror in his voice was heartbreaking. He hadn't eaten breakfast, he was complaining of a tummy ache and he was fighting the girls' hands as they tried to lead him away. When we realized that nothing was going to stop this from happening, he tried to grab me and Kelly's hands so that we could walk him in. When we didn't let him, he lost his shit even more.
We finally convinced him to start moving and Kelly and I stood back and watched him go. The walk into school is a long one and he stopped multiple times. At one point, Kelly wanted to go to him, but we didn't. We waited and he started moving with the girls again. Finally one of the teachers saw what was happening and took his hand. She led him, no nonsense, to the preschool classroom door. Kelly and I, both of us crying, climbed into our van and drove away.
It was the single most exhausting, emotional experience of my life. I have never felt so incredibly helpless to give in to my feelings of protecting him.
And yet, I was completely aware that the very best thing I could do was remain calm and force him forward. I didn't cry in front of him. We didn't allow him to fall completely apart, reminding him calmly and constantly, that he was ready for this and that he would be okay. That he was safe and everything was going to be fine. We stood firm and forced him away from us. It was the only right thing to do. There is a huge part of me that could see through the emotion of the moment and recognize that this was at least 75% our fault. By allowing him to opt out of every activity and program we have tried to put him over the last 2 years, we allowed him to believe that an extreme reaction (even one that is based in real fear) would get him out of it. I could see, and still can see, that our emotional response to him feeling unsafe furthered and created more fear. Far from ever protecting him from anything, we have allowed him to sit in his fears and not learn that he is okay without us and that he is perfectly capable of navigating new situations without hiding behind us.
I'm not sure why it has been so different with Connor. I have thought a lot about this and I still don't have an answer. With Bailey, it's always been a matter of holding her back. Not letting her get too far ahead of her maturity or to overwhelm herself. She has bounded into new situations without looking back even once. She is fearless, or she is completely comfortable working through her fear, without us. It's never been difficult to let her go.
Connor is so different for Kelly and I. We both struggle to let him stretch his wings and he is perfectly happy to allow us to coddle him. But it's not what's good for him. Watching him sob and stop walking and be so completely afraid of a completely safe situation was like a big huge light being shined into my eyes. It was glaringly obvious that he expected us to save him from a new (and scary to him) situation. We had failed him and he was the one who had to suffer because we had not prepared him. I cried as much for that as I did because it was just hard to watch him walk away.
Of course, he had a great day. His teachers reported that he did just fine - excellent, in fact. He loved school. He came home raving about how much he loved it and ready to go back. Last night, when Kelly was telling him that she wouldn't be there and that he was going to just jump out of the car in the car line, he said "Don't worry, I'm not scared anymore". The best part of his day yesterday was riding the bus home.
And once again, parenting levels me and reminds me that even the most well-intentioned actions can have unintended consequences. I can't say that Kelly and I will be completely changed parents from this situation, but I can say that we have learned a very hard lesson. Watching him go, seeing him come home happy and whole and perfectly fine without us, taught us one of those hard lessons that we never wanted to learn and desperately needed to. Every parent has moments where they realize that they are, in fact, the person standing in their child's way. Yesterday was our moment.
And it was fucking hard.
It was Connor's first day of preschool. For anyone who knows the history, Connor has never really liked being away from home or away from me (and Kelly...but I'm his primary because I'm home). He's a homebody in the most extreme sense of that word. He's also pretty introverted and prefers the company of people he knows. He DOES NOT like new situations.
Last year, we pulled him out of a 2-hour a day program because he despised it. He was 3 and just not ready. I still feel like we made the best decision for him. This summer, he got pulled out of swimming lessons because it was such a traumatizing experience. Again, I feel like we made the right decision for him at the time, in the circumstances. He's not ever really done any extracurricular activities, because he doesn't want to. He has no real interests that we can figure out yet. Granted, he's only 4...
So, despite making a series of decisions that were best for Connor in the moment, I think we created the problem that happened yesterday. Connor completely lost his shit when it was time to go to school. The plan was for his sister to walk him to his classroom where he would be met by Ms. Summers and Ms. Handley - two people he has known and who have known him for nearly two years. He love them and they love him. He's been to their classroom and we've been talking about school for months. There were no surprises, nothing scary about what he was doing. Hell, there was nothing unknown.
But still, he lost his shit. It went down just before we left. He got ready without issue, knew he was going to school and knew that it was going to happen today. But as we left the house, he started crying. And I don't mean just a little whimper. It was a complete, fear-based cry complete with begging us to let him stay home and spoken wishes about school going away forever. He clung to us, he screamed when we put him in the car. The entire way to school, he sobbed and begged and carried on. It was so bad that I texted his teacher and asked her to come get him. I then changed my mind when that seemed to scare him even more. When we got there, we pulled out of the car line because there was no way that he was going to get out of the car easily. He was refusing to move. We parked and got the girls out of the car and then talked with him. We got him out of the car and the terror in his voice was heartbreaking. He hadn't eaten breakfast, he was complaining of a tummy ache and he was fighting the girls' hands as they tried to lead him away. When we realized that nothing was going to stop this from happening, he tried to grab me and Kelly's hands so that we could walk him in. When we didn't let him, he lost his shit even more.
We finally convinced him to start moving and Kelly and I stood back and watched him go. The walk into school is a long one and he stopped multiple times. At one point, Kelly wanted to go to him, but we didn't. We waited and he started moving with the girls again. Finally one of the teachers saw what was happening and took his hand. She led him, no nonsense, to the preschool classroom door. Kelly and I, both of us crying, climbed into our van and drove away.
It was the single most exhausting, emotional experience of my life. I have never felt so incredibly helpless to give in to my feelings of protecting him.
And yet, I was completely aware that the very best thing I could do was remain calm and force him forward. I didn't cry in front of him. We didn't allow him to fall completely apart, reminding him calmly and constantly, that he was ready for this and that he would be okay. That he was safe and everything was going to be fine. We stood firm and forced him away from us. It was the only right thing to do. There is a huge part of me that could see through the emotion of the moment and recognize that this was at least 75% our fault. By allowing him to opt out of every activity and program we have tried to put him over the last 2 years, we allowed him to believe that an extreme reaction (even one that is based in real fear) would get him out of it. I could see, and still can see, that our emotional response to him feeling unsafe furthered and created more fear. Far from ever protecting him from anything, we have allowed him to sit in his fears and not learn that he is okay without us and that he is perfectly capable of navigating new situations without hiding behind us.
I'm not sure why it has been so different with Connor. I have thought a lot about this and I still don't have an answer. With Bailey, it's always been a matter of holding her back. Not letting her get too far ahead of her maturity or to overwhelm herself. She has bounded into new situations without looking back even once. She is fearless, or she is completely comfortable working through her fear, without us. It's never been difficult to let her go.
Connor is so different for Kelly and I. We both struggle to let him stretch his wings and he is perfectly happy to allow us to coddle him. But it's not what's good for him. Watching him sob and stop walking and be so completely afraid of a completely safe situation was like a big huge light being shined into my eyes. It was glaringly obvious that he expected us to save him from a new (and scary to him) situation. We had failed him and he was the one who had to suffer because we had not prepared him. I cried as much for that as I did because it was just hard to watch him walk away.
Of course, he had a great day. His teachers reported that he did just fine - excellent, in fact. He loved school. He came home raving about how much he loved it and ready to go back. Last night, when Kelly was telling him that she wouldn't be there and that he was going to just jump out of the car in the car line, he said "Don't worry, I'm not scared anymore". The best part of his day yesterday was riding the bus home.
And once again, parenting levels me and reminds me that even the most well-intentioned actions can have unintended consequences. I can't say that Kelly and I will be completely changed parents from this situation, but I can say that we have learned a very hard lesson. Watching him go, seeing him come home happy and whole and perfectly fine without us, taught us one of those hard lessons that we never wanted to learn and desperately needed to. Every parent has moments where they realize that they are, in fact, the person standing in their child's way. Yesterday was our moment.
And it was fucking hard.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Bringing Sexy Back
I've been in a slump for 2 years. The first few years of being a stay at home Momma were about transition and fucking WORK! Connor was just shy of a year old and Bailey was nearly 3 when I left my job. If you've ever spent time with kids that age, 24/7 without a break, you know that you work your ass off. It was constant, demanding and so different from the lifestyle of being an office worker. SAHM's don't have things like projects with real deadlines and goals. There is almost never a point where you have a final outcome. It's just a matter of managing a constant stream of needs - theirs and yours.
It took me a while, but I eventually learned this job and it was at that point that I started to become stagnant. I had reached the point where I could add something - where I needed to add something - but my children were still young and, even though Bailey had started PreK, I didn't have any time. I still had Connor full time and Bailey was still here, except for 3 hours a day.
I've needed something for a long time. Needed a bit of space to focus on me. A bit of room in my life where I get to decide who I want to be, unfettered by the requirements of raising children 24/7. At the beginning of this summer, I started the process of finding me again. I had reached a point of no return - you know, where you can't keep moving along the same path because it no longer works, but you also have no idea where else to go. I had decisions to make - either let myself sink into depression (a very real possibility) or move boldly into a new place in my mind and let that boldness guide me.
I think the best way to describe what's happened over the last couple of years is that I've completely lost my swagger. I used to own my space - I found myself sexy and funny and worth spending time with. I knew my worth. The last couple of years, I've lost that. I have become opaque and I'm on my way to invisible, which is absolutely unacceptable to me. I don't care who notices me - this isn't about other people. What I do care about is that I feel that way. I can't stand feeling like I'm not worthy of swagger. I want to walk into a room and know that I am projecting how good I feel and I want my confidence back.
So here I am. My first big decision made entirely for me was my decision to go to MichFest next year (and ever year after). Over the summer, I've taken some steps in other directions - mostly in my ways of thinking. I've spent time processing how I make my decisions and making sure that I'm taking myself into consideration. I've relaxed some of my standards for myself and my home and given myself permission to relax a bit. I've stopped pretending that I'm not going to party every now and then, and I've stopped apologizing for needing it.
And last night, I dyed a part of my hair pink. It was actually supposed to be purple...but it turned out pink because my hair is so dark. Which is fine for me. On Thursday, I'm getting a short, asymmetrical, a-line bob to go with my new color. I want an edgy look - not a suburban mom look. The next step will be getting rid of my glasses and my daily walking begins tomorrow.
Just taking these steps has brought back some of who I used to be. Some of the things that made me feel like me. I like feeling like I'm just outside of the norm, while knowing that my life is as normal as it comes. I like for my external appearance to match the sassy, ballsy, drama-filled girl on the inside. I love me and I'm finally taking some steps to find that part of me again. I feel like jumping up and down and cheering for me. I didn't get lost, I just lost touch with myself for a while. But I'm back. Full-on, all-in Mikki is back...and I can't wait to keep on this path and see where it takes me.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Secrets Shared #1
At the top of my list of secret wishes is the now no longer a secret wish to have a day just like the characters on Glee. A day where every event is punctuated by a song that tells the story. A day with synchronized dancing and the perfect moments captured with a long, high note. I want a Glee day.
Opportunity
I have held 3 professional jobs in my life. Two of them at law firms (the last of which is where I truly grew up and I have nothing but love for), but my all time favorite job was with a smallish non-profit doing programming work with high school clubs. In all honesty, I did the Administrative stuff for these groups, supporting the programs by running a smooth ship and keeping the details dealt with. I loved it. I got the job because I had left my first law firm and started my graduate program at GWU. One of my professors was working there and needed an intern. I volunteered, because what the hell else was I going to do? 3 months later, they asked me stay and hired me on full time. It was the single most organic method of job creation and it worked so well because it was built entirely based on matching my skills with a need that they had.
Now, I find myself again at the point of wondering what I'm going to do. I'm still on the board of my MOMS Club and will be until next July. I'm starting a local chapter of Camp Fire with a dear friend, but that's for the kids. I'm volunteering at the school, but that's not really for me. It's just something I feel like we have to do as parents. So I found myself questioning what I'm going to do for me. What am I going to do to make my brain tick.
In the vein - do you know that the single most difficult part of being a SAHM is the complete brain boredom? Taking care of kids is a whole crapload of constant motion, but not much thinking is involved. They don't require much thought. In fact, I have over-thought much of this job just because I'm brain-bored.
So that's why I decided to get involved with an organization that is just beginning in our area. This group of people got together about a year ago and decided to work with a local church to provide a hot meal once a week to the homeless people in community. They have had huge success, and have found surprising need. They are now working toward moving away from the church and have incorporated as Our Place - a separate soup kitchen. They are a few weeks away from submitting for their 501(c)(3) status, they are looking for space and plan to spend the next year renovating. They envision a space that serves 1-2 meals per day, every day. Eventually growing into a full-service organization that works to help in all areas that people who are facing homelessness or hardship. It's a great organization and it perfectly matches my areas of interest. I am appalled by the class-warfare and find it incredibly sad that such a rich county exists side by side with such extreme need. I want to help.
I've joined the Grant Writing committee. I picked this committee because it, first, gives me practical experience in an area that I don't have. It's good for my resume. It's networking and skill building. But, mostly, I joined this particular committee because it's going to stretch my brain. I've never done grant writing. I'm excited to do a job that has a deadline and an outcome. I'm excited by the prospect that my work could produce some of the revenue stream that allows this amazing organization to get off the ground.
I'm mostly excited to have something to do. Something that isn't dishes or picking up or food prep or child rearing.
Now, I find myself again at the point of wondering what I'm going to do. I'm still on the board of my MOMS Club and will be until next July. I'm starting a local chapter of Camp Fire with a dear friend, but that's for the kids. I'm volunteering at the school, but that's not really for me. It's just something I feel like we have to do as parents. So I found myself questioning what I'm going to do for me. What am I going to do to make my brain tick.
In the vein - do you know that the single most difficult part of being a SAHM is the complete brain boredom? Taking care of kids is a whole crapload of constant motion, but not much thinking is involved. They don't require much thought. In fact, I have over-thought much of this job just because I'm brain-bored.
So that's why I decided to get involved with an organization that is just beginning in our area. This group of people got together about a year ago and decided to work with a local church to provide a hot meal once a week to the homeless people in community. They have had huge success, and have found surprising need. They are now working toward moving away from the church and have incorporated as Our Place - a separate soup kitchen. They are a few weeks away from submitting for their 501(c)(3) status, they are looking for space and plan to spend the next year renovating. They envision a space that serves 1-2 meals per day, every day. Eventually growing into a full-service organization that works to help in all areas that people who are facing homelessness or hardship. It's a great organization and it perfectly matches my areas of interest. I am appalled by the class-warfare and find it incredibly sad that such a rich county exists side by side with such extreme need. I want to help.
I've joined the Grant Writing committee. I picked this committee because it, first, gives me practical experience in an area that I don't have. It's good for my resume. It's networking and skill building. But, mostly, I joined this particular committee because it's going to stretch my brain. I've never done grant writing. I'm excited to do a job that has a deadline and an outcome. I'm excited by the prospect that my work could produce some of the revenue stream that allows this amazing organization to get off the ground.
I'm mostly excited to have something to do. Something that isn't dishes or picking up or food prep or child rearing.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
My Love Note to Connor
Dear Connor -
I wonder if you will ever know what it was like to watch you come out of your Mommy's uterus all blue and droopy. Your first warbly, weak cry made my heart stop. Watching them whisk you away to the corner of the room, having to turn to your Mommy unsure of what to say. Listening for every word the doctor said, anticipating trouble and wanting with all my heart to lunge for you, as if my love alone could prevent any problems. Of course, you were okay. They cleared your lungs, warmed you up and monitored you. I got to touch you for the first time when you were all hooked up to all kinds of machines, but I could touch you. You pursed your lips, you squinted your eyes and yelled loudly when the nurse cleaned you.
I knew then the answer to the last remaining question I had. When I felt my heart plummet when I didn't hear the rebel yell at birth, I knew that my love for you would be no less than the love I have for the child I carried in my body. I carried that question with me through your Mommy's entire pregnancy, secretly wondering if love like I had for the child who grew inside of me could be replicated with a child I didn't grow. I worried that, having the comparison, I would feel the difference.
The answer is that I didn't then and I haven't any day since. From the moment I saw you in the OR, I knew you were my son. Your beautiful face burned itself into my heart and you become a part of me. My love for you is limitless in all ways and, if there is a difference, I can't tell what it is.
My sweet, sweet boy...you are the love of my life in so many ways. You are gentle and generous and sensitive. You play hard, but love even harder. You give so much of yourself to those around you, caring what people think and how they respond to you. You are precise in your choice and use of language and you are so damn funny! I love how you make me laugh.
Next week, you start Preschool. You begin the journey of truly moving away from us and into your own life. You will have a part of you that exists without us and you won't share it all. I wish I could go with you. I wish that I could sneak into your backpack and be there to kiss you when it gets hard for you. I feel so protective of you, so scared that something will happen and you'll look for me, but not find me. These things are the irrational fears of parenting and not a reflection on your true abilities, because you are so ready. You have all the tools to go forward and begin blazing your own trail.
Someday, you might read this. If you do, I want you to know that there could never be any other boy for me. You are, since the moment you came into this world, my Prince Charming. I am so happy that I get to be your Momma and that I get to stand by your side or at your back as you take this world and make it your own. I hope that you know that my love for you is as steady as can be, a sure place you can always land. My boy, you are the child of my heart and I couldn't love you more.
Love Always,
Your Momma
Next week, you start Preschool. You begin the journey of truly moving away from us and into your own life. You will have a part of you that exists without us and you won't share it all. I wish I could go with you. I wish that I could sneak into your backpack and be there to kiss you when it gets hard for you. I feel so protective of you, so scared that something will happen and you'll look for me, but not find me. These things are the irrational fears of parenting and not a reflection on your true abilities, because you are so ready. You have all the tools to go forward and begin blazing your own trail.
Someday, you might read this. If you do, I want you to know that there could never be any other boy for me. You are, since the moment you came into this world, my Prince Charming. I am so happy that I get to be your Momma and that I get to stand by your side or at your back as you take this world and make it your own. I hope that you know that my love for you is as steady as can be, a sure place you can always land. My boy, you are the child of my heart and I couldn't love you more.
Love Always,
Your Momma
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