making some changes.

i have written about this a little in my personal journals and other places i don't share with the whole universe because this blog feels like a place for family stuff and pictures of my kids making weird faces. but, i'm the boss of what goes into this blog, and, honestly, it's the easiest place for me to chronicle what the haps is with our family, but also with my own life. me, being the author of this and whatnot. and also...i'm not a facebook sharer, really, especially not personal stuff, but i like the idea of some level of accountability or putting it all out into the universe.

so. the past...6 months? year? lifetime? i've been struggling a little bit. i have atrocious self esteem when it comes to my physical appearance. i can logic and reason through it all, but fundamentally, deep deep down in my heart, i am destructively critical of myself (particularly in the physical arena, although it extends beyond that a little bit too). beyond reason. beyond rational thought.

and here's the deal: it sucks. it is sucking the energy and joy out of me. it's interfering with all kinds of aspects of my life. and it is a horrendous example to my kidlets (even though i try super hard not to vocalize the negative self-talk, some elements of it eek into everything, and they are like wee adorable sponges that will inevitably soak it all up). and i'm freaking tired of it. i'm tired of hearing myself brush aside any compliment (verbally or mentally), tired of talking about how i used to look or that time when i was sorta kinda in shape. it needs to stop.

which brings me to now. i'm on a quest (meant to start this quest in january, but i didn't and that's ok) for self-healing. i need to heal my body from the abuses i've put it through (all the food i want, whenever i want, whatever it is), but i really really need to heal my mind from the barrage of awful self-talk i deal with minute-by-minute.

so what am i going to do? i'm going to take care of myself. i'm doing a whole30, starting today. for real. no excuses, just healing, good, real food. i'm going to move my body around every day - take the dogs for walks, chase the kids, have baby dance parties, do some sun salutations. i'm not going to criticize my inability to complete a crossfit workout today - i'm just going to do something every day. i'm going to drink a lot of water. i'm going to meditate. i'm going to read some healing, lovely words and i'm going to read some words that light my brain up. i'm going to love on my family and friends when i can and when i want to, and i'm going to give myself space to be by myself and focus internally when i need it. and i'm going to write, hopefully more than just sometimes.

lists.

i have a lot of lists.  on paper, yes, but mostly in my brain.  lists of projects i want to start or complete, ideas for short stories i never write, stuff i need to pick up at the grocery store, recipes to invent, stuff i want to do before i die, songs that i should download and put on a hypothetical running mix, restaurants i'd like to try, books i want to read.  the list goes on - a list of lists.

i've been in a pretty good place mentally lately, i think.  it's hard for me to admit when i'm not in a good mental place, even though i'm also pretty sure it's obvious when that is the case.  i have a hard time with self-care of all kinds.  but.  i've been exercising semi-consistently (at least 3 times a week) for several weeks now.  it has helped tremendously with my B factor.  as in, i'm way less of a B.  i think.  or, i feel like less of a B.  anyway.  this is the first time in my life i'm completely willing to admit that there is something behind this alleged science of workouts/energy/positivity/etc.  so i guess this means i have to keep it up.

the other thing that's been helping tremendously is that i've been reading peaceful parents, happy kids by dr. laura markham.  and also her website, aha parenting.  i mean, whoa.  i haven't become some exceptional parent overnight.  but her writing and advice is so actionable and logical to me.  my yelling has diminished precipitously over the last several weeks, which is creating this amazing feedback loop where the kids aren't as buck-wild and i don't beat myself up all the time and then get more strung out because i'm such a terrible mom and then rinse, repeat.  it's really changed my life ALREADY...and we're only a couple weeks in.  AND i only got jb to finally read, like, one article a few days ago.  and that has made another huge difference.  emme is like a different child, blossoming in this glow of acceptance and play and empathy.  it's remarkable.

so now if we can only figure out how to get hollis to sleep past 4am...

wednesday.

yesterday and monday emme came home from school saying that a couple of her buddies told her they don't want to be her friend anymore because she's bad.  i asked her what she did when they said that and she said she told them she wasn't bad, walked away, and went to find some new buddies to play with.  yesssss.  that is an appropriate response.

in sixth grade i became friends with a group of girls who teased, belittled and broke me down little by little every day. there were good days too, but my overwhelming impression of middle and high school are of feeling horrible about myself - like i didn't deserve to have people like me or respect me, like i was unworthy in almost every way. the treatment was so terrible that my mom told me one of the girl's mothers called my parents during high school to tell them how bad it was, but what could they do? the catch-22 of an experience like that, especially one that starts so young, is that it seeps into your being and makes it even more difficult to get away. the most important thing is to remove yourself from that situation, but the systematic (whether intentional or not) breakdown of any sense of esteem makes it impossible. better to have "friends" who treat you like crap than to have no friends at all, right?

i still bear the emotional scars from these formative experiences. until very recently, i even kept somewhat in touch with several of these girls - every interaction dredging up that same feeling of less-than, of unworthiness. i am quite sure they've had an influence over so many things in my life, from jobs to relationships to other friendships (many of which were a devastating echo of these formative ones). i don't want to be overly dramatic about it, but bullying (even subtle bullying) is pretty impactful.

so. the idea that this type of behavior - this categorizing of my child (or anyone's) as "good" or "bad" - starts at the tender age of three...it kills me. i get that not everyone deserves a trophy. that life is tough and you're not always going to be surrounded by people who adore you. it's important to learn how to stand up for yourself at an early age, to be aware of the kind of treatment that makes you feel good or bad, to know that you have a say in tolerating it or not. as eleanor roosevelt said "no one can make you feel inferior without your consent". but this kind of talk, this treatment of one's "friends" is insidious. she won't always come home and tell me what so-and-so said. she may not always be tough enough to walk away, to choose other friends. i hope she is, and i hope i am strong enough to encourage her. i hope we can step in and fight these battles for her when necessary. and above all, i hope she is never the one calling her friends bad.

lately.

i've been thinking a lot lately.  there's been a lot going on.  justin lost his job at the beginning of june.  that has been a new challenge for us to face together.  it was unexpected, and i think his boss handled it very poorly, but it is what it is.  i hate thinking that people will always always disappoint you, but that's how this has made us feel.  it has been a lesson in learning to get past anger (a relatively useless emotion in these types of situations) and focus on what we can/should be doing.

we had a great holiday week with family in town and lots of swimming and home time.  ek varies day to day (or hour to hour) between being the sweetest person that i've ever met and quite the little challenge.  i never know how much of it to attribute to her being 2 and how much of it i have control over/should or could be doing something differently.

anyway.  i've been thinking about getting down to the basics and how on most days i miss executing on even the most basic of functions.  i find myself making a lot of lists in my head about things i want to be doing on a regular basis and what level of incremental happiness and life satisfaction those things will deliver.  they are things like putting on eye cream because i'm about to be 32 and let's face it i should have started that years ago.  shaving my legs more than once every ten days.  staying awake while nursing hollis before bed without using my cell phone as a distraction/stay awake device.  making my daily list each night before bed.  using my evenings for something other than collapsing on the couch to watch jeopardy and play candy crush.  wearing my hair in some style other than a messy bun meaning it's still wet 10 hours later when i take it down.  packing lunches for myself/justin.  meal planning.  figuring out a time to exercise, run the dogs, plant some flowers, organize my crafts, do one small project every day....all the things, really.

days are so short.  and i struggle with feeling like i am rushing through the motions - that daily life is a continuous cycle of loading the dishwasher, cooking the meals, folding the laundry - but i'm not relishing the joy in those everyday things.  it begs the question of what the heck the point is.  why am i working to make money to spend on more crap to deal with when i don't actually believe that most of the random crap is important at all?

justin and i have been talking for months now about our house.  we love our actual house - the structure we live in - but we don't love our neighborhood.  at all.  when we bought, it was with the idea that we'd be here 3-5 years and move somewhere else when it was time for the kidlets to start school.  we've been here two years now and i think we underestimated our yearning for a neighborhood community.  i have a lot of thoughts about community in general and the absence of it (in a general sense) in modern life.  i feel like there are some fundamentals that are just missing and seem so hard to create/find, at least for me.

i'm really just rambling.  i don't have any solutions right now.  i'm trying to feel like less of a shadow of a person - to be fully present in each moment, especially with the children.  because they are pure magic right now and they, at least, are a source of incomprehensible joy to me.  everything else that i worry about, stress about, think about should probably take a back seat.

the rest of april and a roly poly.

we are starting to formulate a routine, slowly .  it's easiest on days when i can work from home.  i wake up first, shower, start the motions.  prep the bottles, unload the dishwasher, feed the pets, let the dogs out, start breakfast, stuff the diapers, start a load of laundry.  all the things.  most days i feel like i see my children in a blur through the morning.  hollis usually wakes up late - a ball of chub and warmth in my spot in the bed.  some mornings i wake him just in time to change his diaper and clothes, give him his heart meds, and get him into his carseat.  we have to wake emme up earlier than that since she has so many opinions these days - about what she will wear to school, what and how she will eat breakfast, when she will conduct the rest of her morning chores.  but i still try to wait until the last possible minute, balancing that seesaw of the importance of sleep and my intense desire to spend time with her.  it's harder when i have to get myself ready too - find relatively clean clothes, avoid getting spit up on, throw on a layer of mascara and some work-appropriate shoes.  but most days we make it out the door with few, if any, tears, full bellies, and warm coffee in my mug.
the evenings are still the witching hours - you never know what you're going to get.  some days emme is exuberant, rambunctious, wanting to help or at least willing to play independently.  some days she is overly tired, cranky, the poster-child of two and a half year old moodiness.  sometimes, hollis can plow through until his favorite time of day: bath time.  but some days he is fussy and tired, hungry and discontented.  some days i am successful in getting him down for a mini-nap before the bedtime routine begins, but i question how good that extra sleep is for a child that is adamantly refusing to go more than a few hours between night wakings.  despite this, i still manage to get a somewhat functional dinner on the table so that we can eat as a family when justin gets home from work.  meal planning (when we manage to do it) is a life saver.  after dinner, it's haul everyone to the bath, lotion, clean jammies, cuddles.  emme has created an intermission in our normal progression from bath to jammies to books to bed.  now, she demands "a little bit of dancing" in the living room, usually while i'm putting hollis down.  she is turning in to quite the little dancer - twirling and jumping and shaking, getting out the last energy from the day.  once hollis is asleep, justin and i read books to ek in her bed and talk about her day.  i love the things she mentions from her day - the caterpillar she saw under a leaf, the tomatoes growing in her garden, the work she did with her buddies at school.  she always lists every item that was in her lunch that day.  we end the day with jb turning out the lights and she and i snuggle for prayers and a closed-eye recitation of goodnight moon.
hollis started rolling from tummy to back last week.  he also started laughing and it's a joyful little sound.  for the cranky dude he was for most of his first three months, he is really turning in to quite the happy little chublet.  he and i are completely in love - i can't get enough of all his rolls, his soft baby skin, his big gummy smile.  he is not a good night sleeper, but i'm trying to let him have his own journey.  a good night is one where i get three uninterrupted hours, and i haven't had many of those.  but in the grand scheme of my life, these nights awake with my baby are so few and short.  he doesn't love taking a bottle, so he's not eating enough during the day, hence the compensation of nursing half the night.  there are worse things and i know i will miss these nights when they are gone.  that being said, it is hard to be on my a-game, both at work and emotionally, when i haven't slept more than three hours in a row in nearly four months.
anyway.  i'm trying really hard to slow it down a little and focus on all the magical little things about this time, rather than concentrate on all the things i'm not doing - like exercising, sweeping the floor daily, crafting, organizing, running the dogs, etc etc etc.  it really is an amazing thing to be in this life with these little people who are so interesting and learning so much every day.

doing the best you can.

i had a mini meltdown yesterday while driving home from work.  my blood sugar has been high despite my attempts at doing what i think i'm supposed to be doing.  i actually don't even know if it's that high, or if i'm doing the right things.  i am just supposed to be monitoring until my next appointment, and then we will discuss and they will make recommendations. 
anyway.  it was a combination of factors, i guess.  i hate my job these days - it is so frustrating, and each day makes me feel like i made poor decisions somewhere along the way that led to me working in an industry i don't care about that i don't think is doing anything positive to change the world.  i haven't been sleeping well - i've been having weird dreams and i'm getting to the more uncomfortable phase of pregnancy (though it's really not even that bad yet), coupled with emme being noisier than usual in the night and all our pets deciding it's appropriate to tell me how much they love me in the wee hours.  i feel all these looming deadlines and functions floating on the horizon, but i just feel paralyzed by everything i want to do, so i haven't done anything.  and then, of course, the stupid gestational diabetes.  i realize this is not a big deal in the grand scheme and i have perspective, i swear.  but with my stupid sugar levels being crazy (i hear this can also be impacted by stress - ha.), i of course read too much about everything on the internet yesterday, and started flipping out about how i may get real diabetes in a few years and i am dooming myself to having a 900 pound baby who will have shoulders too big to deliver and will struggle with obesity his/her entire life, all because my body is not responding properly to insulin. 
so.  obviously, the flip out was somewhat ridiculous and i am much better now.  i know in reality how fortunate i am and that none of the things i'm grappling with right now are impossible to contend with.  i have perspective.  it just made me realize, once again, how hard i am on myself.  how do i teach my kids to not be like this?  when i was talking to my mom about it later in the evening, she reminded me that i am doing the best i can, and that's all anyone can do.  and my immediate mental reaction to that was "am i doing the best i can?".  but i think what i really meant in my head was "am i doing the best it could be done, by anyone ever, regardless of circumstances?".  because that is how i think - in absurd absolutes.  i'm much better about this than i used to be.  it's a constant work in progress.  but it's a tough way to live - always aspiring to unachievable standards and never content with your own journey.  i'll keep trying. 

on raising a daughter, part 1.

i'm feeling all writerly today, so i apologize for the increase in words - particularly serious ones.  i came across this article this morning and it got me thinking. 

for those that don't feel like chasing links around the internet, the article talks about how people respond when they meet little girls.  they instantly go to value judgments about how precious/clean/well-dressed/beautiful said girl is.  and i do the same thing, which sort of boggles my mind.  these girls ARE all of those things, of course, but that is not all they are.  and the immediate observation of it seems to be doing a disservice to generations of girls who now value beauty over substance (the statistics in the article are terrifying).  this is something i've struggled with in my own life (and still do) - at times choosing to underplay whatever physical attributes i have in favor of being taken more seriously as an intellectual.  both extremes are a lose/lose for women and girls in so many ways.  i can recount about a zillion stories around this issue - it's not some revolutionary topic - but what i loved about this article was the proposed solution.  ask the little girl about her hobbies, her ideas.  what she likes and why.  offer to do an activity with her - read, color, dig in the dirt.  i hope i can keep this focus on substance at the forefront of her development, even though i will continue to dress her in adorable outfits and make sure she's clean (most of the time...).  but i worry about all the outside influencers.  when you start tallying up the number of hours your little monkey is outside of your realm versus inside, it gets depressing.  how do you combat reality television and skintight clothing and mascara commercials?  how do you ensure that your daughter(s) place a greater emphasis on their heads and hearts but also make sure they know it's still ok to take pride in/be comfortable with the way they look?  how do they become people that grow more beautiful as you get to know them because of all the exuberance and personality they possess?  

the bottom line is that i DO think my daughter is beautiful.  but the things i love the most about her are her curiosity and her stubbornness, her precociousness and her big heart - and that's just the beginning.  i am sure the list of traits i love will expound into eternity....i just want to make sure i remember to tell her about all of those things instead of just talking about her eyelashes and her complexion....

baby birds.

they hatched last week.  wednesday, if i remember correctly.  small pink pulsing things with not a feather between them.  one of the eggs did not hatch, and that was our first loss.  we wondered about the environment, the timing.  maybe that was the one she laid first - a day before the other two - and it just wasn't quite ready.

but the other two made it.  it's hard to know what thriving means in the world of baby birds and wild things.  they were growing - anyone could see that.  but the mama was there less and less as the days went by.  we rationalized that maybe the nest was now too small for all of them.  surely they didn't need her constant vigilance - food was more important, right?  in any case, they grew and grew.  more than tripled their size by the time we got home on sunday afternoon.  sprouted delicate and unfathomably tiny feathers on their little baby wings.  hung their faces out of the nest, mouths gaping, waiting for their next meal.  justin read that they eat every 20 minutes when they're this little....and i thought a human baby was a demanding eater.

i guess it was too much for her.  this morning when i left for work, i saw one on top of the other.  i hoped maybe they were just sleeping, nestled in with each other.  but justin looked closer when he was leaving, and the bottom one had no open beak, no quick pulsing breaths coursing through its little body.  the live sibling was in bad shape, too, so justin scooped him up and brought him to work.  fed him mashed dog food and water.  have i mentioned the drought we're having in texas?  this is the manifestation.

justin is on his way with our little survivor - bringing him to a wildlife rescue place where they are trained in the art of baby bird rehabilitation.  i guess we'll see.  but i do hate the reminder of how nature gives but it also takes away.

here's a pic of marcus, our little survivor, in the incubator when justin dropped him off at the wildlife place. we hope he's a fighter!

leaving the house.

way back when, i was out and about all the time.  i would head down to book people and curl up in a chair and read there.  i would duck in and out of boutiques, music stores, grocers.  i would languish for hours at friends' houses, in cafes, at random restaurants.  when i started grad school, i became a bit more homebodied.  homebodied?  sure.  being at work all day and then at class until 9:30 two nights a week, i started to relish my time in our house.  this also roughly coincided with us owning a house, so that may have something to do with it too.  in any case, i kept it closer to the casa, but i could still pry myself away for a happy hour or yoga class or dinner with friends.

since having emme, i feel like i have crawled into my little hermit shell with my young and i am not budging.  in addition to wanting to keep it closer to home for the bunny, i am a control freak (shocker, i know).  i feel like tying myself to the house gives me some small sense of dominion over the deluge of chores that i face daily.  i live in a mountain of laundry (i can't decide if i hate clean or dirty laundry more...), i wash bottles incessantly, i attend to the living creatures that cohabitate with us, all of whom have needs (alas, the joy of pethood, motherhood, wifehood).  despite knowing that our house will never stay clean, that there is no place to put things to feel more organized, that i will never have time to read all the books/do all the crafts i want, i feel like being there at least puts those pipe dreams into the realm of the possible....  home is my safe nest, regardless of any accompanying frustrations.  i feel the possibility of control there.

last night, though, i was coerced out of my abode to meet some girlfriends for a  chick flick.  i'd read the book and i'm a sucker for a cheesy romcom (hate that term).  the movie was fun and seeing the girls was lovely, despite not having too much of a chance to visit.  and somehow, when i got home, it was the sweetest place i have ever been.  i was happy to be loading the dishwasher at 10:13 and hauling clean diapers out of the dryer at 10:46.  it was such a little thing to do, leaving the house.  relinquishing that control over my fiefdom for just a minute.  i was gone for not a full three hours.  but it gave me brand new eyes coming back.  i will have to consider doing this more often.


*note: i re-posted this because of the blogger mishap yesterday.  boo for blogger!

back on the saddle.

or is it in the saddle?  i never remember.  in either case, i am working out again, as of monday.  i meant to start last week (woops), but i kept forgetting my gym clothes, so this is the week.  gabby is my little personal trainer/accountability buddy.  she does all the hard work like planning our workouts and pestering me to meet her at the gym and encouraging me not to eat 17 loaves of bread.  i mostly just whine about how much i hate working out because i am ridiculously out of shape.  i also randomly burst into fits of laughter because of how silly we look doing all this plyometric stuff.  in any case, i am so sore right now i can barely move.  when i pick up emme (ouch), it feels like she's gained about 12 pounds.  it's discouraging to feel how hard all of this stuff is, especially knowing that i was in decent shape at one point (never great shape, but i can say decent...).  oh well...i will get there again, right?

the hardest part of exercising right now is my easy lapse into negative self-talk.  i know i need to stop that (for a number of reasons), but it's so much easier (and occasionally hilarious) to be self deprecating for some reason.  i am clearly not a person that was back in her pre-pregnancy jeans 2 weeks after giving birth.  it would be easy to say those people are freaks of nature, but i know they're not.  i'm friends with/related to tons and tons and tons of them.  of course, you can always find people to compare yourself to if you're looking for them.  i've struggled with my weight pretty much since i became aware of my weight (sometime in mid-high school i think?).  i've been on a 10-50 pound yo yo since freshman year of college.  i certainly can't really remember ever feeling comfortable and secure in my own body.  when i ran the marathon is the closest i came, but i would have still told you i wasn't satisfied, even then (almost 30 pounds smaller than i am now).

but now i am realizing that i need to curb the judgment and self analysis for more than just myself.  i don't want emme to see her mom being so critical of her own body, knowing that it will teach her better than anything i can tell her to internalize that criticism of herself.  i want her to respect her body and love it for its remarkable form and its ability to perform so many amazing functions (the irony of its greatest function, housing a baby, being that which has brought out its greatest criticisms from me has not escaped me).  being a girl is really hard for so many reasons.  i need to be an example of the kind of woman i want my daughter to be - one who knows how to work hard and take care of herself.

having it all.

i've been thinking a lot lately about having it all.  i think about it when i'm sifting through dirty cloth diapers to make sure all the inserts were separated before i wash them.  i think about it when i'm washing the parts of my pump for the billionth time so i can make sure to have clean gear for making emme's food at work.  i think about it when i'm trying to wrangle all the bottles so she has clean ones to eat from when i'm gone and for me to pump into.  i think about it when i'm strapping weird gear to myself while shut into my office and feeling like a strange alien.  and i think about it when i'm being spit up on for the 4th time in a single feeding right after i've finally showered and changed into a clean top.

i haven't done any significant exercise since the little nibs was born - in fact, i can't even imagine when i would squeeze in an hour for a run (or a fast walk....).  my sewing machine is gathering dust in the laundry room even though i have like 27 project ideas i want to work on.  my culinary adventures consist of throwing frozen vegetables in a crockpot.  my eyebrows aren't waxed or even tweezed and my hair lives most of its life in a ponytail.  the dogs still get love and exercise, but not as much of either as they (or i) would like.  justin and i have our most in-depth conversations via email while at work.  and my friends and family, well...i'm trying, but i am sure i'm falling way short of the mark on that front too.  

the truth about all of this is that i'm happier and more fulfilled now than i can ever remember being.  i believe i've always been a relatively happy person - there are some notable exceptions, but the overarching experience of my life has been a happy one.  and these days that are rushing by in a blur of work and house work and ill-fitting clothes....each one of them is a little treasure in my heart.  the quick sit-down for a bite to eat after emme has gone to bed.  the open-mouthed grin with a throaty coo mid-nursing.  the warmth of little bitty clothes, fresh from the dryer.  the sweet squeaks that wake me up in the middle of the night.  

the promise of the feminist movement and, later, my generation of entitled and self-proclaimed "gifted" boomers' kids was that we could have it all and make it look easy.  climb the corporate ladder, dress like you're in a vogue (or at the very least real simple) spread, have babies that are polite and clean and well-adjusted.  not to mention have passionate and selfless marriages, host elaborate dinner parties, hone interesting hobbies, and keep up with world events and current literature.  or maybe this is all just my interpretation...a telltale sign of my enduring quest for perfection and my exhaustively high standards.  in any case, this promise (or this pipe-dream) is much more real in real life.  ha.  but i love it.  the little details beneath the veneer - the gamut between the spit-up and the toothless smiles - are the things that are interesting and good and true.  having it all is in the perspective.