Watch it.
Vulnerability is not weakness. Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.
Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.
We have to talk about shame.
This video – it’s good stuff. Worth the time.
(If you’re reading this in a blog reader click through to see the video.)
I read an article tonight I shouldn’t have read. Don’t read it unless you’re prepared to cry, although you should know it’s a very well written piece. In it, the author’s infant daughter dies. I knew this before I started reading. A blogger I read described the article by saying, “It is about the death of his one-year old daughter, from complications of a brain tumour, and I will never forget it, ” and that should have been sufficient warning for me.
I knew I shouldn’t be reading it. Um, hello! Brain tumor. 1-year old. Death. Most people would find it emotional, I’m sure, but I know I can be very affected by things like that. About three paragraphs in I paused to reconsider my decision to keep going, but my curiosity got the better of me and I didn’t stop. By the time I was done I was weeping, attempting to resist the inevitable but overwhelming urge to race upstairs and wake my babies and huddle together in the middle of my bed. Even a second away from them seemed like too much. I can’t imagine being apart from one of them for a lifetime.
In spite of the anxiety I knew it would produce in me I think I kept reading purposefully. I have an underlying anxiety right now – an unhealthy anxiety – that I’m afraid to acknowledge openly or even privately. But I think anxieties like attention, and if I won’t face it directly it will find ways to reflect itself back into my life. This article was like a mirror, forcing me to pay attention to the thoughts bubbling beneath the surface.
After I had Gabe I was consumed with not getting postpartum depression. Obsessed. Preoccupied. Frantic. And, as luck would have it, I think I actually did have it, maybe not the depression version as much as the anxiety version. I’ve always been anxious, but my anxieties really kicked into high gear at that point, exacerbated by the fact that we started trying to get pregnant again when he was 9 months old only to start the whole infertility journey. Once I finally faced up to and treated my depression and anxiety I realized how troubled I had been for months and how much better I could have felt if I had gotten the help I needed. I didn’t have to feel that awful for that long.
I think it’s happening again, but different. I feel happy – I feel so, so happy. Like, deep in my bones. My marrow is happy. I get Isla from her crib when she wakes up at night and peek in on Gabe asleep and feel like my heart is so full, and I’m so lucky. But I also feel scared – scared of losing it, scared it’s going to go away, scared there’s going to be suffering. I’m paralyzed by those fears, so I keep the surface moving while I try to pretend they’re not hiding underneath. But they are, and sometimes it takes seeing them outside myself in articles and news stories and things on tv to remind me that they’re really there and they need attention.
Last week it was cancer – I spent hours in the darkness trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to die of cancer while my children were young. My mind raced and my heart pounded until I worried myself to sleep. I’d wake up in the light in disbelief that I was ever that panicked, but when night came again so came the fear and the cycle began again.
This week it has been failing my children in general, specifically Gabe. I can’t remember if I wrote about it but he had an epic meltdown about school a few weeks ago. Last week was school break, and this week he went back to school. Not thinking, I had forgotten that some of the homework involved in The Meltdown of the Century still had to be turned in post-break, and this turned into Epic Meltdown 2.0 – except unlike the first fiasco this one happened both at home AND school. That, combined with a few other things, have culminated in a not-very-good week with me consulting Dr. Google about all sorts of possible explanations for the problems. I worry so much about him, worry for now but moreso worry for later. You know the saying – little people, little problems. Bigger people, bigger problems. I want to do the right things now to make his later better, but it’s hard when I don’t know if we’re on the right track.
Now that I’ve read that article I bet next week will be my kids getting sick. That’s sort of how my anxiety works, bouncing from one things to the next just as soon as I think I’ve gotten something under control.
Since losing Mara two years ago I’ve worked really hard at finding a New Way – by embracing optimism, purposefully looking on the bright side, and observing and being thankful for the many small, beautiful things I have in my life. Anxiety, however, is a lingering vestige of the Old Way, and I haven’t had a lot of success at putting it to rest. It’s a discouraging irritant, one whose constancy grates at me and leaves me feeling like a “less-than” optimist. I’m almost an optimist but can’t quite shake the pessimism. I’m almost happy, but still a little sad. I almost believe I have what it takes, but really I think I don’t quite have enough.
I was thinking about oysters tonight and how they build a beautiful pearl out of layers upon layers of calcium surrounding a microscopic irritant. I was thinking about how beauty comes from pain. I was thinking about how losing Mara brought the precious gift of happiness into my life. I was thinking about how maybe I don’t have to let my anxiety spoil that happiness. Maybe I can use it as an irritant that produces something much more beautiful and valuable.
I know how this works.
I’ve been down this road before – have gone farther and have made it back in one piece. That is one of the beauties of history – the testimony it can bear to the present. The irritant is there, but I know how to lay the
layers
and
layers
of calcium, overlapping them carefully, one by one, until my irritant is neutralized by layers of opalescent nacre full
of happiness.
Of peace.
Of light.
So apparently I have tonsillitis. What’s up with that? And it’s only on the right side, not the left. I thought it was just allergy ick because the weather has been so bizarre, but after 8 days and increasing pain I finally decided to take a look. Well, hello there nice little white patches! I think we’ll be taking you to the doctor!
I got smart – I called ahead to the walk-in clinic to find out how long their wait was, and when they said ZERO MINUTES I practically ran there AT THAT MOMENT to avoid the wait. They lied, just a little bit. We waited about 10 minutes. But I think they usually see such long wait times that to them ten minutes IS zero minutes.
You say po-ta-to, I say po-tah-to?
The doctor was in my room for a grand total of about 22 seconds before he left to get me a prescription and send me on my way.
That’s the kind of trip to the walk-in clinic I like! Quick and dirty. Except not really dirty at all, unless you count the ugly white patches.
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After what has been an extremely consistent 3.5 hour stretch of sleep each night, Isla has taken to sleeping a little longer each night. This is good, except I’ve been staying up late because I keep expecting her to wake up any minute. I’m working on that. :)
Not so much during the day, though… Where is the child who wouldn’t even stay awake to eat? She’d love to sleep if I’d take a nap with her, and while I can’t say I dislike naps, I do like to be awake for some portion of the day. Babies are such mysteries!
This is her taking a nap in the carpool pickup lane. She’s pretty much the cutest thing ever!
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Essie’s Turquoise and Caicos… fun and makes me think of the beach. It’s a win!
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Gabe’s teacher has two spelling lists each week – the blue one is easier and the green one is more difficult. Gabe typically gets the green list. This week he got the blue list, which would be fine except when Tahd put him to bed tonight Gabe offered that he purposefully did poorly on the pretest so he could get the easy list this week.
Oh, dear Gabe! We love how you make us smile and think up tricky ways to stay one step ahead of you. I think we might be behind right now, but we’re fighting a valiant fight!
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I signed up for a Color Run! Have you seen these? Seriously – this looks like so much fun! You get pelted with a blast of color explosion every kilometer. There’s only the one small dilemma… at this time I can’t run one entire mile, let alone 3. I’m working on the Couch to 5k on my treadmill, but as soon as it seems nice enough I’m going to put Isla in the jogger and take her out with me. It’s still a little cold, I think, but once it’s warmer it will be easier to run with her than wait for a time when Tahd’s home and/or she’s sleeping to get in my workout.
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I’d like to find a photography group. Or a book club. Or something. I’m feeling a little lonely lately.
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My husband is not my boss.
I went to a women’s group recently at which we were told our husbands were our bosses. This did not jive well with me. To put it mildly. So when I got home I asked my husband if he thought he was my boss.
No.
And if he thought I should consider him my boss.
No.
Then I asked several women the same questions – women who are older and wiser than me and women who’ve been married a lot longer than me. They didn’t like it, either.
So I just have to say it.
I love my husband and I respect my husband (could do better on both counts, certainly). But he is not my boss.
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I’ve been experiencing a frustrating juxtaposition lately – the desire to write along with a lack of inspiration. So I picked up my virgin copy of Writing Down the Bones and finally cracked its spine. Good stuff! It makes me want to bring a little notebook with me wherever I go. There is so much that happens and so much to write about… mundane, beautiful, important, hilarious. At the top of my list I add:
Must write more!
Here, there, and everywhere, really.
Before Isla was ever born I knew I’d have to do it…have a photographer come to our house after her birth and document the long-awaited little one joining our family. She just recently sent me the photos and it has been so poignant to revisit that morning, remembering the way she pretzeled in my arms and cried like a little bird waiting to be fed and sank into my still-squishy belly when I held her close.
Those days – they still take my breath away!
The photographer sent me two batches of photos – the ones I selected as favorites and she edited, and the “outtakes,” the originals I had laboriously combed through to pick from. Three months later and I found several new favorites in the bunch and set out to do a little editing of my own, and had so much fun in Photoshop that I couldn’t stop editing. Photoshop’s addicting like that, at least for me! So I’m sharing here some of my favorite edits.
Loved having the four of us on the bed reveling over Isla
This has become one of my favorite pictures. It was hard to pick pictures initially, but now that I see her personality and expressions more some different ones stand out to me. She looks like this every morning while she’s waking up – head cocked to the side, legs squished up and biting her lip. Sweetness!
Pure mischief! I cropped this one – Tahd and I were originally in the background but looked kind of drugged or something. But I couldn’t resist that face!
Some of my favorite pictures of her were on this pink fabric. Love her hands here, how they’re curled under her chin and also how the lower hand is flat with her fingers fully extended. That’s another thing she does, and I rub her little palm while she does it.
I love the creases and dry skin on her feet – such a fresh and new baby thing!
Be still my heart!
Oh, to know what he’s thinking here! We bribed him to do these pictures – straight up bribed him with cash. We are those parents! lol
The photographer worked so hard to get her into this position, and she was having none of it! She much preferred – and still prefers – laying on her back.
Loving the curvy little nose!
The eyes again… he has great eyes!
I’d kiss her all day if I could!
He would, too!
Oh, Pinterest!
I made a new Pinterest board last night where I could pin the pictures of the projects and recipes I’ve attempted. Pinterest tells me I currently have 2,562 pins across my 41 boards. Guess how many I put on my “Completed Pins” board?
15
A big, fat 15. ”Fat” is especially appropriate because most of them were recipes. How is it that I’ve spent countless hours pinning all these brilliant ideas and I’ve only done 15 of them?
This, my friends, is an absurdity.
What good is it to collect ideas if you never try them? Somebody needs to get busy! Less pinning, more doing!
Here are my top contenders for this week…
We have a chalkboard wall in our hall, but it usually sits untouched until we have company. This would be a simple little idea that might get it a little more action.
Tahd is traveling again this week and I wanted to find a few fun things to do with Gabe. I picked up a new pack of Sharpies this week and think he might find this cool:
We can’t leave sister out! So I found a craft for her, too. Not sure it will turn out exactly like this, but this is a cute starting point!
Much to Tahd’s (and possibly the airline’s luggage handler’s) dismay I brought home some sand from Myrtle Beach so I could create this project. The sand made our luggage weigh 50 kajillion pounds!
And just in time for Easter, a few gift projects! I want to make some of these flowers to put on hair elastics for Isla:
and I think everyone needs one of these:
And finally… I see this somewhere in Isla’s room, and I also see a picture of her with it:
Also, I really want to overhaul and paint my dining room, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen this week. So I’ll save it for another time when I’ll have opportunity to paint.
Hopefully the Pinterest gods smile on me and I’ll get to complete at least a few of these projects this week! You can keep an eye on my “Completed Pins” board to see if any of these projects show up there!
