When I logged on tonight, I found some blog entries by a crazy new-ish mom from FIVE YEARS AGO.
Um, hello? When did that happen??
And there's still an entry under "draft" sitting there. Wow.
Life moves pretty fast....
I sat down tonight to write. Something. And I don't know where to start.
I looked at some of those blog entries from years ago and they got me thinking about so many things. Mama J single after the death of her last husband... Baby E starting third grade... yours truly working full time and in school part time.
I want to delete and start over, but part of me doesn't want that.
How to segue into the now...
07 September, 2015
24 January, 2010
Loss of Life
A week ago tonight, I was on the phone nearly every hour, trying to help the daughter of a new hospice patient treat her pain and restlessness. I was talking to her every hour, making sure the medications worked, tweaking what didn't.
I never expected the phone call that came in at 1:50am.
It was M's mom, calling on his phone to tell us that her husband had suddenly died.
I was in shock. I screamed on the phone. All at once I realized that I was going to have to go wake up M and tell him. And that E was suffering a loss at such an early age. And it was Mama J's second husband to die. What would she do? How would she go on? How do I tell the rest of the family?
A million things went through my mind all at once... The family friend with whom Mama J and Grandpa were staying with got on the phone and related the details to me. It was truly a nightmare- sudden, unexpected, and instant. There had been no bringing him back. My heart broke completely. I had to calm myself and go tell Michael. His mom would need him. And I had to finish my shift.
Mama J came home with her friends that morning. We went over there at 11, still in shock and in pain. My brother in law came with his family, too. We called a funeral home and began making preparations. M talked with the ME and confirmed release of Grandpa's body. We tried choking down food- an utter impossibility.
It's been the saddest week for us as a family. It's been hard to tell Eric that his grandpa is gone and that we miss him. I feel sad that he doesn't quite get it- I don't want him to feel like someone just took off and left him and us. But there's little else to say to a 2 year old.
I've also had so many memories of when my brother died suddenly. I wrote about him here. Another phone call in the morning... my dad on the other end of the line, asking, "Didn't you get our messages?" Indeed, I hadn't- they'd somehow gone into my roommate's voice mailbox. "Your brother died last night." I was expecting him to say someone else- my mother, perhaps, in a freak farming accident or car accident- I mean, no one loses a twenty year old brother. Come on!
Clutching my chest and falling to my knees, hearing the worst news of my life... I didn't know what type of world I was entering, or how I'd survive it. I remember exactly what I was wearing... I remember the first song I heard on the radio after I was told... I remember calling work and telling my coworker and her disconnected voice, as though she could not believe it either.
I took a car service to the airport that day to go to my parents. While driving through the Queens-Midtown Tunnel, the driver bumped the curb and I lost my mind. I realized that I now thought I would die any minute or day, because if my brother could suddenly die, then I could suddenly die.
Death was catching. I was sure of it.
I screamed at the driver to "Watch it!" and then I was somehow at the airport, on the small TWA commuter plane to DC. I sat there watching myself cry, leaning against the wall of the plane, hanging my head and staring at the runway.
And I remember that very first instance of feeling alone in my grief. That no one else on that plane was going through what I was going through- that I was completely alone. I think I knew then that this feeling would recur again and again over the next days and months.
I next remember landing in DC and walking down to baggage claim and seeing my sister already having arrived standing there with our dad. Our *old* dad- the sweet, good man who'd aged 25 years overnight, the man who'd lost his only son.
We talked in the car on the way home... organ donation, funeral arrangements, the accident, the Marine Corps... the last time we'd talked to Eric.
Once at my parents' home, I saw my 17 year old sister, the one for whom it seemed most unfair. Her best friend had been taken from her. The kid who was always nice to her even in front of his high school friends. The brother she was supposed to grow up looking up to. I remember saying sorry to her- and sorry to my dad and to our other sister.
I saw our mom shortly thereafter- and that meeting is a blur, for she was the most distraught and disconsolate. All I remember is her collapsed into the couch, appearing as if the couch was swallowing her whole. Something I'm sure she'd have gladly welcomed.
Flash forward to dinnertime. Grace was said over take-out sandwiches. ".... And God, you've asked so much of us this time." was what my dad said.
I was so full of tears and pain, I could barely choke down the food in front of me. I just stared at some point in space.
I went to bed that night, sleeping in my brother's room.
I woke up the next morning, forgetting for one brief, glorious moment, all that had happened.
Then it suddenly hit me again. Eric.
My only brother was gone.
How was I going to live with this pain? The pain that gripped me in my chest, nearly suffocating me. The pain that refused to stop? How would I live without my brother? How would I live with such sadness?
And did I really have to?
28 October, 2009
Six Months On
Six months have passed since I last wrote an entry. And so much has happened, it's nearly crazy.
We moved. On May 1st, we moved out of the City of New York.
I'm still in disbelief.
Sort of.
I never thought I would love being in the suburbs, but I do. It's been such a welcome change.
After we moved, it hit me how hard life had been living in the city, in an apartment. Constantly worrying about our neighbors downstairs. Constantly being annoyed at our neighbors upstairs. Always worrying about parking.
The day we moved into our new house, I opened the back door for Eric and he just started running out to the backyard and into the house, over and over again. He was having the time of his life. And when he saw all "his things" being brought in from the moving truck, something came over him- an understanding of everything that had been going on- the packing, the things "disappearing," the boxes, the upheaval. It was one of my happiest moments, seeing him so happy and having a great time.
The new house brought a new job for me. I landed an incredible, incredible position at a local hospital. It is an on-call position where I can work from home. I am amazed that this fell into my lap. The job allows me to be home during the day and then work from home at night. I get to be home with Eric, but I also get to bring home some now-needed income. It's been an adjustment, but worth it.
The most difficult part of starting the job was having to be on orientation during the day over the summer when I first started working. Eric went to daycare. And that was tough. Thankfully, and somewhat miraculously to me, there is daycare at the hospital where I now work. They had room for Eric and they took him in. I am forever indebted to Eric's two lead teachers, Debbie and Amany, for taking such great care of him and me. They allowed me to be comfortable and secure so I could do my work, knowing that Eric was happy and in great hands.
Despite all the great things about Eric being well cared for, I was often sad, feeling like I was missing out on summer with him. And of course, that mother's guilt was always in the forefront of my mind. While I'd have given anything to not have to work, I couldn't change the fact that I needed to. I wanted to be home with Eric, having fun in the yard, putting on the sprinkler, getting a wading pool.... It was really, really hard.
But as in all things, we made it through. I'm now working my intended schedule (8 nights out of every 14) and I'm home during the day. Eric still goes to daycare, but only 2 or 3 short days per week, just for fun- or if I have a meeting. He loves it there. And it's so much more than "babysitting." Our walls are filling up with his crafts and pictures. He's learning things- even baking cookies on some days! After a mess with another local preschool, I've decided to keep him where he his for the next few years for preschool and pre-k.
And so, it is fall.
The leaves are falling from the trees, it's raining all the time (so it seems) and life brings more ups and downs. I'll write about these things more in the coming weeks.
I'm happy to be writing again. It's something I've missed.
01 April, 2009
The Best Day Ever
My son and I were sick all last week. He started out acting miserable and cranky (for no clear reason at that point) and then went downhill from there. Of course, my ever-patient self was missing that day, and since I couldn't "see" what was wrong, I had no strength to put up with his whining.
But I did, of course. I'm the mom. And I was not about to put him or myself out on the fire escape. I was able to hold it together.
Things went from bad to worse and we both ended up being sick. Me, most likely with a minor flu.
Eric, most likely just a cold and teething.
And not sleeping through the night.
I was exhausted. And all I could think was that because we were both so miserable, I couldn't enjoy him. And I really, really missed that.
But a new week dawned with both of us recovering (and Daddy not catching the worst of what we had!) and I was ready to GO!
Monday was a bitterly cold, windy day in NYC- for the spring. A day made much colder due to the fact that it *was* spring and should have been sunny and warmer. We were briefly out. And then we were in. Not so much fun. And trying to keep the TV off was next to impossible.
Tuesday arrived with the promise of a sunny, spring day. So we headed downtown (I had an errand to do) to my old neighborhood.
This was my last neighborhood in NYC as a single woman. While I was living there (in Greenwich Village, in my dream apartment) I began to finally be true to myself and claim my life as my own (there's a long story behind that- another day). I took risks and chances- making new friends, dropping "friends" that really weren't. I allowed myself to be truly happy- and truly sad if that were the case.
I began loving my life as it was. Not an always easy task for a 36 year-old with no "prospects" on the horizon. But I did it. I made friends at work. I went to happy hour. I volunteered with NYCares. I did work at Ground Zero. I went out every Saturday night and enjoyed life. I had my heartaches and rejections, but something in me changed, and I refused to let those things get to me.
Then suddenly, I met my husband. We met, fell in love and got engaged in four months. When we got married another 4 months after that, we couldn't stay in my tiny apartment, so it was good-bye to the Village.
Now, 4 years later, here I was, going back to that neighborhood with my 18 month-old son. I took him to the park on the same street where I had lived alone. He ran around and climbed on the equipment, went down slides, swung on swings for over an hour in the playground adjacent to the tree-canopied benches where I used to sit alone with a book. I walked him on my old block, marveling at how much my life had changed.
I remembered walking home alone after nights out with friends at about 3 in the morning (my mom would kill me if she knew); the many afternoons of walking that same block on my way home from work. The laundromat where I used to drop off my laundry each week. The cafe that had amazing coffee and a surprisingly good menu where I'd once met a blind date. The great Chinese food place that was now a nail salon....
I walked with Eric, pointing out my old building and the windows of my old apartment (#2F), as if he could process it all. I showed him Mommy and Daddy's favorite restaurant and talked about the different shops and people we passed. Mainly, I just looked around in silent amazement. So many things had changed- so many had stayed the same.
The last thing Eric and I did was go get a hamburger at a place I used to go to when I first moved to the city- also in the same neighborhood. I have a few memories there, and the ones that come to mind are tinged with some loneliness and maybe even some hopelessness. Being there with my son, I realized I'd come full circle and completed some of the lessons I've needed to learn in my life. I also realized that I'd had a really, really good life- warts and all.
As I sat with Eric, helping him with his burger and fries, my phone rang. It was Daddy. I found myself saying to him, "We've been having the best day ever. And it's just an ordinary day."
But, really it wasn't. We were both better. The sun was out. Spring had finally come. And I realized for the first time how far I'd come in 5 years. I looked back on the bad times and knew that I was thankful for even them, because they just make the "now" even sweeter.
But I did, of course. I'm the mom. And I was not about to put him or myself out on the fire escape. I was able to hold it together.
Things went from bad to worse and we both ended up being sick. Me, most likely with a minor flu.
Eric, most likely just a cold and teething.
And not sleeping through the night.
I was exhausted. And all I could think was that because we were both so miserable, I couldn't enjoy him. And I really, really missed that.
But a new week dawned with both of us recovering (and Daddy not catching the worst of what we had!) and I was ready to GO!
Monday was a bitterly cold, windy day in NYC- for the spring. A day made much colder due to the fact that it *was* spring and should have been sunny and warmer. We were briefly out. And then we were in. Not so much fun. And trying to keep the TV off was next to impossible.
Tuesday arrived with the promise of a sunny, spring day. So we headed downtown (I had an errand to do) to my old neighborhood.
This was my last neighborhood in NYC as a single woman. While I was living there (in Greenwich Village, in my dream apartment) I began to finally be true to myself and claim my life as my own (there's a long story behind that- another day). I took risks and chances- making new friends, dropping "friends" that really weren't. I allowed myself to be truly happy- and truly sad if that were the case.
I began loving my life as it was. Not an always easy task for a 36 year-old with no "prospects" on the horizon. But I did it. I made friends at work. I went to happy hour. I volunteered with NYCares. I did work at Ground Zero. I went out every Saturday night and enjoyed life. I had my heartaches and rejections, but something in me changed, and I refused to let those things get to me.
Then suddenly, I met my husband. We met, fell in love and got engaged in four months. When we got married another 4 months after that, we couldn't stay in my tiny apartment, so it was good-bye to the Village.
Now, 4 years later, here I was, going back to that neighborhood with my 18 month-old son. I took him to the park on the same street where I had lived alone. He ran around and climbed on the equipment, went down slides, swung on swings for over an hour in the playground adjacent to the tree-canopied benches where I used to sit alone with a book. I walked him on my old block, marveling at how much my life had changed.
I remembered walking home alone after nights out with friends at about 3 in the morning (my mom would kill me if she knew); the many afternoons of walking that same block on my way home from work. The laundromat where I used to drop off my laundry each week. The cafe that had amazing coffee and a surprisingly good menu where I'd once met a blind date. The great Chinese food place that was now a nail salon....
I walked with Eric, pointing out my old building and the windows of my old apartment (#2F), as if he could process it all. I showed him Mommy and Daddy's favorite restaurant and talked about the different shops and people we passed. Mainly, I just looked around in silent amazement. So many things had changed- so many had stayed the same.
The last thing Eric and I did was go get a hamburger at a place I used to go to when I first moved to the city- also in the same neighborhood. I have a few memories there, and the ones that come to mind are tinged with some loneliness and maybe even some hopelessness. Being there with my son, I realized I'd come full circle and completed some of the lessons I've needed to learn in my life. I also realized that I'd had a really, really good life- warts and all.
As I sat with Eric, helping him with his burger and fries, my phone rang. It was Daddy. I found myself saying to him, "We've been having the best day ever. And it's just an ordinary day."
But, really it wasn't. We were both better. The sun was out. Spring had finally come. And I realized for the first time how far I'd come in 5 years. I looked back on the bad times and knew that I was thankful for even them, because they just make the "now" even sweeter.
28 February, 2009
28 January, 2009
Life in General
Things have been busy the last few months or many.
Hard to catch my breath sometimes. Now it looks like we are moving.
We made an offer on a house.
They countered.
We accepted.
We submitted a mortgage application.
We were approved.
Whoa there.
This is all happening so fast, I can't quite believe it.
"Fast" meaning we will close in April, if all things work out. A million things can happen between now and then.
One of those things being me getting some form of work. I interviewed with an old-old place, hoping to do home care again with them. It's a mixed-up sort of place- doesn't run very well, but people there have hearts of gold, for the most part. I'd just like a little bit of work- not a ton. (Hmm- look at that palindrome I just created....)
The interview process is long and drawn out there, so I'm still waiting to hear back. They loved me then, they love me now (no fooling) but the "corporate" "process" is such that it drags. Drives me crazy.
All this has been making me just a little crazy and insane. I can't imagine going back to work and leaving Eric. I know a million and one people do it.
I'm just number 1,000,002. :)
I've had the time of my life being a stay at home mom. When I say "time of my life" I don't mean that it's been all blue skies, sunshine and ice cream cake. It's been ups and downs, back and forth and sideways, and some days I've wanted to just go sit out on the fire escape.
But I've never done that. Though, I have looked at the words "fire escape" and they've taken on new meaning for me! I haven't put Eric out there, either.
All in all, this time has been a gift. I've cried, I've ranted, I've rejoiced, I've laughed... it's made the going great.
I think changes in life make you stop and think about how good you have it. I feel like I've been taking stock of my life since we decided to buy and move to a house. It's been great. It's made me grateful for what I've been through- the good and the bad.
Some people will call me crazy for that, but I don't care. Sure, there are some things I might change if I had it to do all over again. But I can't, so I learn and go from here.
I'm rambling.
Anyway, my hope is that with this one blog post, I'll start getting more "regular" at it again.
Or for once!
Lately, I've been contacted by so many old friends, thanks to Facebook. I love that stupid site. It's been so much fun for me these last months, being home with Eric. It's been incredible.
26 December, 2008
In Real Life
The very first time Michael and I went out alone (together) after Eric was born was to see a movie.
I cried through the entire thing.
Michael thought I was really touched by the subject of the film.
When it was over, I sobbed, "I hated it. What a terrible, terrible movie."
The movie brought out every possible feeling and emotion that I'd been feeling over the last 3 or 4 months (I don't remember the date exactly). I felt relief, anger, sadness, joy, regret, peace, fear... everything.
I related strangely to the main character and couldn't figure out why.
For the first time in nearly a year, I was alone without my baby (including pregnancy).
And it was overwhelming.
I've since fallen in love with that movie and I enjoy seeing every minute of it.
We're going to sit down and watch it again tonight (I bought the disk).
"Dan In Real Life."
I can't wait to see it.
23 December, 2008
Writing Out Loud
I look back at the lack of blog entries and I wonder if I stopped writing because I felt better or because I felt worse. Then I realized, I've been writing, but out loud. I've been in therapy this whole time.
So there it is.
It seems that as long as something is "out" I feel better and can move on. But in looking back over all I haven't written here, I realize I really want to write- er, type.
It's two days before Christmas. Tonight is the third night of Hanukkah, the holiday we celebrate in our home. I have family who are Christian and we will be going to Christmas Eve dinner with some and then to another Christmas get-together on Saturday. I'm finding myself getting caught up in the craziness of the season without even being a Christian! This was the thing I left behind when I became a Jew. It was the thing I was happy to let go of- the yearly madness of this season. Now, I'm stressing over who's getting what and how much to bake for people. Eesh.
But this isn't what I wanted to write about today. I wanted to talk about Eric. What a fantastic boy he is. He has been learning so much and growing like a weed. He is just a wonder. He has done so many new things since I last posted- and even before the last post: I'd forgotten to write things down!
Eric started walking. Everywhere. Nonstop.
He's having a blast.
He's imitating Michael and me more and more.
And I can't get over how much he understands:
If I tell him it's time for breakfast, he runs over to his booster seat. Same with lunch and dinner.
He knows so many different objects- his ball, the baby doll, his bottle, books, toys (in general).
He knows to go look for Daddy if we've been awake and it's time to wake up Michael. And vice-versa. Eric gets so excited when he sees us in the morning and when one of us comes home after being out for awhile.
And he remains such a sweetheart. He gives spontaneous hugs. He kisses. And his nature is still so sweet. I'm enthralled by him.
I feel so refreshed lately. Happy and calm. Sure, I have moments of wanting to lose my mind, but every day has been a gift. I am so lucky to have Eric and Michael. I feel so loved and treasured.
And I know I have the two loves and treasures of my life right beside me.
08 November, 2008
A New Year
I can't believe it has been MONTHS since I last put in an entry! Did the blues get that bad?
Since August here's what's happened:
Since August here's what's happened:
- started therapy
- started an antidepressant
- took Eric to his NYPL summer reading program party
- had a great Labor Day weekend in the City
- visited parents in VA
- went to the National Holocaust Memorial Museum
- celebrated Eric's first birthday
- threw a big birthday bash for Eric
- celebrated Rosh HaShana
- agonized through all three Sorkins having colds at the same time
- fasted on Yom Kippur
- marveled at Eric finally crawling on all fours
- celebrated Sukkot
- missed Simchat Torah because we were exhausted
- welcomed the arrival of fall (my favorite thing)
- put Eric in a leopard costume for Halloween
- took Eric to his first Halloween party
- watched Eric take some steps on a Thursday night and then watched him "really go" at synagogue the next Saturday
- made plans to "kasher" our kitchen... we are going kosher!
- had some long-distance friends and family over
- celebrated a brand-new start for our country
And I guess that's it. We're already in November. NOVEMBER.
Holy smokes. I can't believe it.
It's been a chock-full two and a half months. And it hasn't all been that easy.
I've felt an acute loneliness that hasn't been around in awhile. I miss my friends. My single friends. I'd love a phone call from more than one of them. I'd love one of them to invite me out to something. Just something. Even if I had to say no, I'd still love the invitation. I feel a little sad, too, with Michael's best friend having disappeared from our lives. I know it's "different for men," but I'd still like to see him with a faithful near-by friend.
It's been weirdly hard to make new friends. I wish I could put my finger on it, but it's like being in high school all over again. Trying to make friends- long-lasting friendships- hasn't been the easy thing I thought it would be. And I just have to leave it at that.
Just keep trying....
20 August, 2008
Baby Equals B-Listed
"Having a baby changes everything" is a popular slogan from a well-known medical company.
How true that statement is. I "knew" that going into pregnancy, but I didn't really know it until I became a mom. A lot of those changes were easy to swallow- some were hard, and some are still hard. The most difficult change to accept, and the one I really couldn't imagine even occurring was the change in friendships.
Sure, I knew I'd have fewer opportunities to go out with my girlfriends and on some occasions I'd have baby in tow, but I didn't expect to feel like I got B-listed. Equally as bad is seeing it happen to my husband.
The diminishing phone calls, the forgotten invites, the unheard-of get-togethers, the list goes on. What hurts the most is knowing that I haven't even been thought of.
I feel like I have to almost beg my old friends to go out with me (alone- not with the baby even!) I can't remember the last time I got invited out- usually I'm the one who sets up a "girls' night out."
I turned 40 this year. I sent out a clever invitation to my friends- new and "old." Only one out of my three closest BFFs even responded. One complained, "Why does it have to be that night? I have a meeting." Another never even acknowledged the invitation. A fair number of my newer (mom) friends couldn't do it due to husbands working late, childcare needs, etc. I ended up cancelling. Not having that party hurt so much, yet it was too painful to think about holding it with so many people unavailable and my best friends seemingly off the radar.
I hear about one friend's news through another. I hear about tickets to events after they've been purchased. I see a friend of my husband's pictures from multiple "outings" that he's never been invited to. Pictures from a friend who is constantly too busy to visit or "never make(s)plans."
So in a year of less sleep, impossible changes, incredible happiness, dreams come true and more "work" than I ever could have imagined- in a year when I've needed and wanted my friends more than ever, I've never felt more alone.
Never felt more B-listed.
How true that statement is. I "knew" that going into pregnancy, but I didn't really know it until I became a mom. A lot of those changes were easy to swallow- some were hard, and some are still hard. The most difficult change to accept, and the one I really couldn't imagine even occurring was the change in friendships.
Sure, I knew I'd have fewer opportunities to go out with my girlfriends and on some occasions I'd have baby in tow, but I didn't expect to feel like I got B-listed. Equally as bad is seeing it happen to my husband.
The diminishing phone calls, the forgotten invites, the unheard-of get-togethers, the list goes on. What hurts the most is knowing that I haven't even been thought of.
I feel like I have to almost beg my old friends to go out with me (alone- not with the baby even!) I can't remember the last time I got invited out- usually I'm the one who sets up a "girls' night out."
I turned 40 this year. I sent out a clever invitation to my friends- new and "old." Only one out of my three closest BFFs even responded. One complained, "Why does it have to be that night? I have a meeting." Another never even acknowledged the invitation. A fair number of my newer (mom) friends couldn't do it due to husbands working late, childcare needs, etc. I ended up cancelling. Not having that party hurt so much, yet it was too painful to think about holding it with so many people unavailable and my best friends seemingly off the radar.
I hear about one friend's news through another. I hear about tickets to events after they've been purchased. I see a friend of my husband's pictures from multiple "outings" that he's never been invited to. Pictures from a friend who is constantly too busy to visit or "never make(s)plans."
So in a year of less sleep, impossible changes, incredible happiness, dreams come true and more "work" than I ever could have imagined- in a year when I've needed and wanted my friends more than ever, I've never felt more alone.
Never felt more B-listed.
18 August, 2008
Be Kind to All You Meet...
I've been reading the most bittersweet blog over the last 2 months. It's written by a man named Matt, who, in the blink of an eye, became a single father.
His wife died barely 24 hours after giving birth to their daughter. Liz only saw their daughter Madeline once- immediately after delivery. Both mother and baby were too sick to be together during those first 24 hours.
On Liz's way to see Madeline in the NICU, she collapsed and couldn't be revived.
Heartbreaking.
Matt's blog chronicles life with Madeline without Liz. Unimagineable.
But what makes me write about this blog now is an entry I just read a few minutes ago. Matt relates the story of traveling with Madeline outside of the US for the first time and the people he's encountered along the way. Basically, he ran into some less-than-kind employees at the airport: People who sent him the wrong way, gave the wrong information, were less than helpful (in a nutshell). Read it here.
Without going into all the detail, I just wonder if they'd known about Matt's life, would they have taken an extra minute to help him? Would they have been just a little more patient?
The thing is, they didn't know- nor could they have known. And that brings me to my point:
"Be kind to all you meet, for everyone is fighting a great battle."
I don't know who first said this- I read it years ago in a Buddhist book. It stuck with me.
We don't know the garbage people are dealing with on the inside. We don't know what battle(s) they may be fighting. So why not make life easier on each other? Why do we rage at people who try our patience? Why do we "lose it" over the smallest infraction (perceived or actual)? And all this anger and impatience and unkindness does nothing for ourselves- it makes us angrier and more impatient and more unkind.
Life is hard enough. Why can't we make it easier on each other?
His wife died barely 24 hours after giving birth to their daughter. Liz only saw their daughter Madeline once- immediately after delivery. Both mother and baby were too sick to be together during those first 24 hours.
On Liz's way to see Madeline in the NICU, she collapsed and couldn't be revived.
Heartbreaking.
Matt's blog chronicles life with Madeline without Liz. Unimagineable.
But what makes me write about this blog now is an entry I just read a few minutes ago. Matt relates the story of traveling with Madeline outside of the US for the first time and the people he's encountered along the way. Basically, he ran into some less-than-kind employees at the airport: People who sent him the wrong way, gave the wrong information, were less than helpful (in a nutshell). Read it here.
Without going into all the detail, I just wonder if they'd known about Matt's life, would they have taken an extra minute to help him? Would they have been just a little more patient?
The thing is, they didn't know- nor could they have known. And that brings me to my point:
"Be kind to all you meet, for everyone is fighting a great battle."
I don't know who first said this- I read it years ago in a Buddhist book. It stuck with me.
We don't know the garbage people are dealing with on the inside. We don't know what battle(s) they may be fighting. So why not make life easier on each other? Why do we rage at people who try our patience? Why do we "lose it" over the smallest infraction (perceived or actual)? And all this anger and impatience and unkindness does nothing for ourselves- it makes us angrier and more impatient and more unkind.
Life is hard enough. Why can't we make it easier on each other?
Unemployed
I finally quit my job today.
For real.
By proxy- sort of. Michael delivered the letter to my old boss.
I'd gone in a week and a half ago, ready (or not so ready) to resign. I saw my boss and he asked, "Why not think about doing per diem?" It made me pause.
He wouldn't take my letter at that moment- he wanted me to think about it.
I thought about it. And thought about it.
In the end, I couldn't do it. Something about 12-hour shifts and being away from home for 14 hours at a time....
Nah.
When I go back to work, I'll make my own hours. And my day will start at the reasonable hour of 9, not 7, AM.
So here I am- unemployed. A little sad, yes. When Michael stopped by, he saw some of my old coworkers. He gave me messages from them. I'm sad about that. For all the drama there, it was a fine group of nurses- a big part of my life for 1.5 years. Heh, now that's gone. Weird. In the big picture, that's not much, but it's still a loss. I think I was ready this time. 1.5 weeks ago I wasn't. (Ready.)
But focusing on the great things- ah!! That beautiful baby I've been home with- new friends- a new life- and having a career that I really can go back to. All that is really, really great. I wouldn't trade any of it.
Ever.
Especially the boy....
For real.
By proxy- sort of. Michael delivered the letter to my old boss.
I'd gone in a week and a half ago, ready (or not so ready) to resign. I saw my boss and he asked, "Why not think about doing per diem?" It made me pause.
He wouldn't take my letter at that moment- he wanted me to think about it.
I thought about it. And thought about it.
In the end, I couldn't do it. Something about 12-hour shifts and being away from home for 14 hours at a time....
Nah.
When I go back to work, I'll make my own hours. And my day will start at the reasonable hour of 9, not 7, AM.
So here I am- unemployed. A little sad, yes. When Michael stopped by, he saw some of my old coworkers. He gave me messages from them. I'm sad about that. For all the drama there, it was a fine group of nurses- a big part of my life for 1.5 years. Heh, now that's gone. Weird. In the big picture, that's not much, but it's still a loss. I think I was ready this time. 1.5 weeks ago I wasn't. (Ready.)
But focusing on the great things- ah!! That beautiful baby I've been home with- new friends- a new life- and having a career that I really can go back to. All that is really, really great. I wouldn't trade any of it.
Ever.
Especially the boy....
06 August, 2008
When You're Busy Making Plans...
I went into work today to quit.
I didn't. Quit, that is.
"Why not go per diem?" asked my boss.
"Why not think this over?" asked I.
Why not? One day commitment every three months.
Huh. Can't say the $ would be a bad thing.
I'm tired tonight....
Just exhausted.
When do I catch up on sleep?
And I'm thinking about work?
lol
Really. lol
And I thought I had it aaalllll figured out.
Eric was his most charming self today. Just the cutest.
We went to see Aunt Christine this afternoon. Earlier, we had a walk with one of his friends.
This afternoon, I brought him to work to see Daddy and then go to my old place of torture. Ahem, employment.
Everyone went nuts over Eric. That is such a cool feeling.
We came home and had some great Chinese food.
After Eric went to bed, I cleaned up- in more ways than one.
I cleaned the apartment and got a haircut.
Ahhh, bliss.
Both things.
And now it's bedtime. Can't wait!!
I didn't. Quit, that is.
"Why not go per diem?" asked my boss.
"Why not think this over?" asked I.
Why not? One day commitment every three months.
Huh. Can't say the $ would be a bad thing.
I'm tired tonight....
Just exhausted.
When do I catch up on sleep?
And I'm thinking about work?
lol
Really. lol
And I thought I had it aaalllll figured out.
Eric was his most charming self today. Just the cutest.
We went to see Aunt Christine this afternoon. Earlier, we had a walk with one of his friends.
This afternoon, I brought him to work to see Daddy and then go to my old place of torture. Ahem, employment.
Everyone went nuts over Eric. That is such a cool feeling.
We came home and had some great Chinese food.
After Eric went to bed, I cleaned up- in more ways than one.
I cleaned the apartment and got a haircut.
Ahhh, bliss.
Both things.
And now it's bedtime. Can't wait!!
04 August, 2008
Time? Time.
I can't believe that my last post was in March.
March!
Weird. I kind of lost my groove.
It's back. The groove, I mean.
Summer is almost over. Summer in the school-year sense. Now, *that* is freaky. Eric is going to be a year in September.
Whoa.
I've been home for almost a year. I can't imagine going back yet. Yet, it's funny and it's somewhat of a loss. I'm ready to quit. I'm quitting. This week. [deep breath in] It'll be the first time in my adult life that I've been unemployed. It feels so strange.
I can't imagine going back to work this year, though. Does that mean it's going to be twice as hard as it is now to go back next year? The thought is scary.
I don't know what to do next.... Do I look now for daycare in the fall of 2009? Do I get a babysitter then? Oy. Always looking ahead. Can't I just be in the moment all the time?
I've been reading a very- what? A very bittersweet blog lately. It's totally touched my heart.
http://www.mattlogelin.com/
My heart goes out to Matt and Madeline. I can't imagine....
Leaves me breathless.
I'm leaving you with some pictures of Eric- catching up on the last few months...
...er, well, maybe not. Seems Blogger is having some issues. I'll try again later. Cheers!
March!
Weird. I kind of lost my groove.
It's back. The groove, I mean.
Summer is almost over. Summer in the school-year sense. Now, *that* is freaky. Eric is going to be a year in September.
Whoa.
I've been home for almost a year. I can't imagine going back yet. Yet, it's funny and it's somewhat of a loss. I'm ready to quit. I'm quitting. This week. [deep breath in] It'll be the first time in my adult life that I've been unemployed. It feels so strange.
I can't imagine going back to work this year, though. Does that mean it's going to be twice as hard as it is now to go back next year? The thought is scary.
I don't know what to do next.... Do I look now for daycare in the fall of 2009? Do I get a babysitter then? Oy. Always looking ahead. Can't I just be in the moment all the time?
I've been reading a very- what? A very bittersweet blog lately. It's totally touched my heart.
http://www.mattlogelin.com/
My heart goes out to Matt and Madeline. I can't imagine....
Leaves me breathless.
I'm leaving you with some pictures of Eric- catching up on the last few months...
...er, well, maybe not. Seems Blogger is having some issues. I'll try again later. Cheers!
25 March, 2008
It's All About Me
Motherhood brings up a lot of- stuff. Just stuff. Feelings, memories, questions, doubts, and more feelings. Something that's come up for me has been feelings about myself. Yes, myself. Don't get me wrong- I have a ton of feelings about being a mother and motherhood in general (it's great, it's hard, it's lonely, it's made me very happy, it's sad-- the whole gamut). But I've been dealing with my own memories and feelings about being younger (a child or teenager) and I've learned so much.
What I remember most about being a teenager is never really feeling good about myself or feeling confident that others liked me. I always felt like something was wrong with me- not thin enough stands out the most. What makes me bring this up now is that over the weekend, I found my freshman-year high school yearbook at my parents' house and I actually dared to look for pictures of myself. I knew there were a bunch- I was pretty involved that year.
I was amazed at what I found. I found pictures of the girl I always thought was fat- the one who was on a crazy liquid diet at one point to lose weight. The girl who rarely felt good about herself- who hated seeing pictures of herself and being reminded of how un-cool she was.
I found that girl, but I couldn't see why she thought she was fat. OK- maybe not the most skinny girl. But I wasn't tall, either, and I wasn't fat by any means. Stupid haircut and definitely not the one for her face (which was round, not fat), but not fat. Why oh why did I think that? And why did I waste so much time feeling like I wasn't good enough?
Just as important, why do I still think that now? Why do I frequently feel like I am not good enough? I have a husband who adores me, tells me I'm beautiful and loves me just the way I am. I have a beautiful baby with whom I get to stay home.
No matter what the reason, I decided then and there that enough was enough and I was stopping the ridiculousness. I learned that I have a distorted view of myself and can let it go. I feel sorry for that girl in high school. There was nothing wrong with me. I had some good friends and I have some great memories made with those friends. Yeah, there were some messed-up things along the way (who goes on a liquid diet for 10 pounds?) but I refuse to let those things define me any longer.
I can't go back and redo the past (who wouldn't want to go back to high school and have a do-over?) but I can look back with different eyes and live today as a new person.
What I remember most about being a teenager is never really feeling good about myself or feeling confident that others liked me. I always felt like something was wrong with me- not thin enough stands out the most. What makes me bring this up now is that over the weekend, I found my freshman-year high school yearbook at my parents' house and I actually dared to look for pictures of myself. I knew there were a bunch- I was pretty involved that year.
I was amazed at what I found. I found pictures of the girl I always thought was fat- the one who was on a crazy liquid diet at one point to lose weight. The girl who rarely felt good about herself- who hated seeing pictures of herself and being reminded of how un-cool she was.
I found that girl, but I couldn't see why she thought she was fat. OK- maybe not the most skinny girl. But I wasn't tall, either, and I wasn't fat by any means. Stupid haircut and definitely not the one for her face (which was round, not fat), but not fat. Why oh why did I think that? And why did I waste so much time feeling like I wasn't good enough?
Just as important, why do I still think that now? Why do I frequently feel like I am not good enough? I have a husband who adores me, tells me I'm beautiful and loves me just the way I am. I have a beautiful baby with whom I get to stay home.
No matter what the reason, I decided then and there that enough was enough and I was stopping the ridiculousness. I learned that I have a distorted view of myself and can let it go. I feel sorry for that girl in high school. There was nothing wrong with me. I had some good friends and I have some great memories made with those friends. Yeah, there were some messed-up things along the way (who goes on a liquid diet for 10 pounds?) but I refuse to let those things define me any longer.
I can't go back and redo the past (who wouldn't want to go back to high school and have a do-over?) but I can look back with different eyes and live today as a new person.
13 March, 2008
Girlfriends
I wasn't the first of my friends to get married, and I'm not the last, either. Handfuls of friends got married while I was in my 20's and early 30's and then things kind of slowed in that area. At this point, though, I am the only one out of my circle of girlfriends who's married.
Somewhere along the way, friends who got married moved away or got busy being married. I lost touch with them- some purposely since it was too hard being the only one to call and feeling like I was intruding when I did. None of them ever seemed to have time to go out with their single- or married- girlfriends any longer unless it was some kind of weird "double date" or couples thing. And that was always weird if I wasn't dating someone seriously and had just a "casual" date or a friend with me.
I couldn't figure that out- what was the deal with these chicks when they up and got married? Sheesh! It felt like some of them disappeared when they got engaged. I didn't get the disappearing act- and I sure wasn't going to buy it when I finally got married, I told myself.
Let me put it this way: I. Need. My. Friends. My girlfriends. I need 'em.
Don't get me wrong. Michael became my best friend sometime while we were dating. He is still my best friend. I need him and couldn't live without him. But I need my girlfriends just as much, even if it seems like my life is "too busy" with a husband, and now, a baby. I need them to hang out with, to talk about nothing with, to not talk about the baby with (aw, man, lots of dangling participles- screw it!), to laugh with, cry with- and, well, you get the point.
And for anyone who thinks that moms need only "mom friends," think again. My single friends, I love hearing about your impulse buys- that fabulous bag, the must-have shoes. Tell me again how your date was? And about that fantastic new restaurant? And how much did you spend on those clothes? Ah, let me live vicariously in your carefree-ness!
I love you, my friends. You mean the world to me. And you make up a huge part of it. Don't ever think otherwise.
Somewhere along the way, friends who got married moved away or got busy being married. I lost touch with them- some purposely since it was too hard being the only one to call and feeling like I was intruding when I did. None of them ever seemed to have time to go out with their single- or married- girlfriends any longer unless it was some kind of weird "double date" or couples thing. And that was always weird if I wasn't dating someone seriously and had just a "casual" date or a friend with me.
I couldn't figure that out- what was the deal with these chicks when they up and got married? Sheesh! It felt like some of them disappeared when they got engaged. I didn't get the disappearing act- and I sure wasn't going to buy it when I finally got married, I told myself.
Let me put it this way: I. Need. My. Friends. My girlfriends. I need 'em.
Don't get me wrong. Michael became my best friend sometime while we were dating. He is still my best friend. I need him and couldn't live without him. But I need my girlfriends just as much, even if it seems like my life is "too busy" with a husband, and now, a baby. I need them to hang out with, to talk about nothing with, to not talk about the baby with (aw, man, lots of dangling participles- screw it!), to laugh with, cry with- and, well, you get the point.
And for anyone who thinks that moms need only "mom friends," think again. My single friends, I love hearing about your impulse buys- that fabulous bag, the must-have shoes. Tell me again how your date was? And about that fantastic new restaurant? And how much did you spend on those clothes? Ah, let me live vicariously in your carefree-ness!
I love you, my friends. You mean the world to me. And you make up a huge part of it. Don't ever think otherwise.
12 March, 2008
Disappointment
What an incredible shock the other day....
I was talking to my friend, Erica, and she asked if I'd heard about our governor. I hadn't, so she told me he was resigning and it was amidst allegations of ties to prostitution. I was dumbstruck. To say the least.
As it was, he wasn't resigning, but with his wife by his side, he admitted to "failings" and ''wrongdoings" etc, etc. I can't begin to describe the disappointment I feel. I was taken for a fool.
And I sure feel like one.
Mr. Spitzer showed incredible promise. He was exciting to watch as the NYS Attorney General. All I could think was, "Get those corrupt guys!" When he ran for governor, Michael and I were excited by the prospect of "Bringing passion back to Albany." It was a new dawn, a new era. It gave us some hope in the dark years of the Bush administration. Spitzer was elected by a landslide. So much so that I almost felt sorry for his opponent.
So, Spitzer was inaugurated. The first year came. And went. [chirp, chirp, chirp]
Uh, hello? Anything going on up there? In Albany, I mean? I'm not feeling any "passion" here- I'm not seeing things getting done. I hear more about Governor Corzine in NJ than I do about Governor Spitzer. Now we know what was going on... and man, has it left me discouraged.
Discouraged to the point of looking at my favorite presidential candidate with great skepticism. Looking at every politician with great skepticism. After all, they are politicians. I can't even watch TV. I'm usually a news junkie- I love checking in on MSNBC (especially Morning Joe) or catching up locally with NY1 News. But today, it's all making me sick. And angry. And completely apathetic about the upcoming presidential election. There truly doesn't seem to be any good being done by anyone in politics. Everyone is out for themselves and for more money.
Most recently it was reported that there are traceable amounts of drugs in water supplies across America. Why is that okay? And why did that even happen? What is going on here? It makes me so angry, I can't even get together my thoughts about it. And why is the middle class struggling so much? Why are the wealthy just getting richer and richer and richer? And why is it, that if a couple make over $100,000 they aren't considered middle class? In NYC, that isn't much at all. At. All. It's all too discouraging to think about.
I hope things turn around. I have to hope they will, because who can live with such disappointment day after day and not have hope? It has to get better. I hope that David Paterson can be a successful governor- that he will passionately lead this state to better things. I hope that CEOs who run their companies into the ground will stop getting $100 million bonuses when they're "let go." I hope that the middle class will stop bearing the brunt of the poor and wealthy. I hope someone truly good ends up in the White House. I hope the world will be a better place for my son. Starting now.
I was talking to my friend, Erica, and she asked if I'd heard about our governor. I hadn't, so she told me he was resigning and it was amidst allegations of ties to prostitution. I was dumbstruck. To say the least.
As it was, he wasn't resigning, but with his wife by his side, he admitted to "failings" and ''wrongdoings" etc, etc. I can't begin to describe the disappointment I feel. I was taken for a fool.
And I sure feel like one.
Mr. Spitzer showed incredible promise. He was exciting to watch as the NYS Attorney General. All I could think was, "Get those corrupt guys!" When he ran for governor, Michael and I were excited by the prospect of "Bringing passion back to Albany." It was a new dawn, a new era. It gave us some hope in the dark years of the Bush administration. Spitzer was elected by a landslide. So much so that I almost felt sorry for his opponent.
So, Spitzer was inaugurated. The first year came. And went. [chirp, chirp, chirp]
Uh, hello? Anything going on up there? In Albany, I mean? I'm not feeling any "passion" here- I'm not seeing things getting done. I hear more about Governor Corzine in NJ than I do about Governor Spitzer. Now we know what was going on... and man, has it left me discouraged.
Discouraged to the point of looking at my favorite presidential candidate with great skepticism. Looking at every politician with great skepticism. After all, they are politicians. I can't even watch TV. I'm usually a news junkie- I love checking in on MSNBC (especially Morning Joe) or catching up locally with NY1 News. But today, it's all making me sick. And angry. And completely apathetic about the upcoming presidential election. There truly doesn't seem to be any good being done by anyone in politics. Everyone is out for themselves and for more money.
Most recently it was reported that there are traceable amounts of drugs in water supplies across America. Why is that okay? And why did that even happen? What is going on here? It makes me so angry, I can't even get together my thoughts about it. And why is the middle class struggling so much? Why are the wealthy just getting richer and richer and richer? And why is it, that if a couple make over $100,000 they aren't considered middle class? In NYC, that isn't much at all. At. All. It's all too discouraging to think about.
I hope things turn around. I have to hope they will, because who can live with such disappointment day after day and not have hope? It has to get better. I hope that David Paterson can be a successful governor- that he will passionately lead this state to better things. I hope that CEOs who run their companies into the ground will stop getting $100 million bonuses when they're "let go." I hope that the middle class will stop bearing the brunt of the poor and wealthy. I hope someone truly good ends up in the White House. I hope the world will be a better place for my son. Starting now.
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