Yesterday I had a meltdown. Not that anything dire is going on in our lives. Not at all…so, the fact that I feel like a spoiled brat, just makes it worse. What happened? Well, not much really. I will write it here just so you can see how ridiculous it is.
I made an appointment for an eyebrow wax after work. This is a new place and a new person, and I was nervous about it. In order to make it on time, I needed to leave work at 3…which would be my normal time to get off anyway. But, after a day where I spent hand-holding and forcing people to do their jobs…a day where I had people report to my boss that things didn’t get done by my team, which wasn’t true (it was a matter of people not checking emails, voicemails, etc. I mean do they expect paperwork to walk up to them and verbally announce their presence? Perhaps with a marching band? Or maybe they should check their inbox, mailboxes and voicemails every so often and at least once before they claim that other people are doing their jobs…I digress)…after all that, I was just mentally exhausted. I spent two hours explaining what seemed like a simple concept to another engineer. I must have been doing something wrong, because he just didn’t get it. Couldn’t understand that what he did one way, and what another engineer did another way, led to the same correct answer…both using correct logic. Then, at three, I realized that even though I had asked someone to book a conference room for a meeting, and he promised me he would, it didn’t happen. So, I had to do it. I left work 15 minutes later than planned. Not a big deal really, but I missed my appointment time. I called ahead to let her know…this was not a good way to start a first appointment. She suggested I come in and she would see if she could squeeze me in. After almost an hour of waiting, it just didn’t happen. So, that caused me to miss meeting Roger to get my car fixed. I also, in my frustration, no longer wanted to meet him for dinner (we were going to go together, then changed the plans to meeting when I was running late).
I come home, hoping to cuddle with Kaelyn and let the day’s events go. But, I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself out of my funk. We are still getting bills from Kaelyn’s NICU and PICU stays (10 days and 1 day respectfully). It’s frustrating that the hospital can’t seem to figure out how much a day’s stay costs and bill it all at once. Every time we think we’ve paid off what the insurance didn’t, another bill comes. I’ve spent hours on the phone with the hospital and insurance company trying to figure it out, to no avail. Last night, I said screw it and wrote a check for $2800 which I hope above all hopes is the end of it. So, I go to the mailbox, check the mail, and lo and behold there’s a statement of benefits from the insurance company. They say that $745 was billed by the doctor in March…that was her last well-baby checkup. There are 10 miscellaneous charges (conveniently described with codes so that I have no idea what they are really for). And the insurance covers none of it…so, two things: 1. Why in the world does a 10 minute well-baby check up result in 10 services adding up to $745? 2. Our insurance is supposed to cover well baby care 100%, so why suddenly are they not? Just another thing to add to my growing list of things to figure out and take care of.
So, what happened next, I’m not proud of. Roger told me the night before that he was going to check up on something yesterday. I asked him about it and he told me he didn’t get to it. I lost it. I actually had to excuse myself and go outside to cry it out. His lack of following through was not the biggest deal in the world. It wasn’t anything too important, but at that moment, I felt like, I couldn’t count on anyone to do what they commit do when they commit to doing it…and that it impedes on my ability to do things for myself…like get my eyebrows waxed (a want) and get the car fixed (a need). And the mere fact that at that moment, I was melting down, meant that I wasn’t being a good mother to Kaelyn. It made me feel hopeless. I also realized as I was outside crying, that I rescheduled the eyebrow appointment during the time that we were scheduled to meet our financial planner. It just felt like I couldn’t accomplish anything. I couldn’t even eat the dinner that Roger prepared for me. I got sick to my stomach.
I tried to calmly explain to Roger how I was feeling, but my emotions got in the way. Since I’m too professional to have a melt down at work…to “proper” to do it at a spa…and never even had the opportunity to do it at the mechanic, I took it all out on my family. I blamed him for my rotten day. And writing it all out now, just makes me realize that what happened is not a big deal. I’ve had much worse days without the emotional meltdown I experienced yesterday. These are very happy times for us and I struggle with figuring out why I can’t relax and enjoy them.
Roger has lovingly and cautiously suggested that perhaps my extreme emotions are post partum symptoms. I have a hard time accepting that this is the case. I have always been relatively happy (even if sarcastic and realistic…which many people take the wrong way). Depression has never been something used to describe me. There have been a few times when unimaginable events have occurred in my life that could have caused depression…but, instead, what happened were sadness, anger, and acceptance/recovery. I have a hard time thinking that the best and happiest moment of my life, could cause me to spiral into extreme emotional imbalance. But, at the same time, I look at the last 7 months. Starting with the birth of a beautiful baby girl. Healthy. Happy. A great job opportunity for me and business prospect for Roger that will make us both happy and affords us the opportunity to financially provide for each other while spending the quality and quantity of time together that we desire. At a time when many people are struggling, we are holding up just fine. Yet, at the same time, Kaelyn’s birth caused me anger, hurt, and sadness, because she had to stay in the NICU for 10 days. Even though she was healthy, and I witnessed babies that were truly struggling for their lives and Kaelyn was not…she was coming home healthy, I still hated the fact that we were there. I still reacted as if she were struggling for her life and unrealistically imagined that we would never bring her home. Everyone told me that this was natural, healthy. And I accepted that it was. We brought her home on day 10 and my sadness was replaced by pure joy and exhaustion.
But since then, other strange (at least strange to me) emotions have crept up. I am jealous of my husband. I’ve posted this before. I don’t like it that Kaelyn seems to like him better than me. I’m ashamed of that feeling. Ashamed of my selfishness. I often question my ability to be a good mother. I fear that Kaelyn will grow up to harbor the same resentment I often feel towards my own mother. And then I know that me feeling this way is very much going to be a self fulfilling prophecy. That if I don’t get over myself, I will hurt her emotionally. I can’t let that happen. I love my job, but I struggle that it takes me away from my daughter. When I’m at work, I want to be home. And then when I’m home for any length of time, I miss work. We need to provide financially for Kaelyn and each other. I have to work…I want to work…but, I also want to be available for her 24/7. I am defensive about everything. I want to be superwoman. I am not her.
So, slowly, I’m starting to accept that these feelings, ridiculous as they are, may be related to me having a baby. And while I am nowhere near as extreme as the women who say they have dreamt of hurting their babies or hurting themselves,(I can’t even imagine how those thoughts ever could cross someone’s mind. On my worst days the most I want is 10 minutes of breathing time) and although I don’t want to go into isolation, or hide from myself, I see that my emotions are not healthy and possibly can’t be fixed with simple logic and reasoning. Still, I’m hesitant. I don’t think I need (or want) professional help. I hope that with the support of a loving husband, wonderful friends, and with some research, I can logically tell myself that I’m not being realistic (something I pride myself in being able to do well!). I’m hoping that with time, my body’s balance will be restored. This admission is hard…but, I am moving forward with this possibility, because I love Kaelyn and Roger more than I need to preserve my pride.
Writing it out here actually helped.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Back Home
I made it home safe and sound around lunchtime on Friday. Roger and Kaelyn picked me up from the airport and then the three of us went to lunch. Afterwards, I took the best nap ever. I was exhausted and just sitting on my own bed was all I needed to fall into a deep restful sleep. Roger and Kaelyn sleeping beside me made it all the better!
Yesterday was relaxing as well. I got up earlier than both Roger and Kaelyn and did my normal saturday morning cleaning. I fed Kaelyn when she woke up (about 45 min after I did), then made Roger and I Greek omelets for breakfast. The weather was beautiful, so we decided to eat outside. It was later in the morning and Kaelyn was already down for her late morning nap, so Roger and I got the rare morning time to relax and talk.
The afternoon was busy for Roger. He cleaned out the garage and did some work in the backyard, while Kaelyn and I relaxed on the back porch and watched Julie and Julia (great movie). Roger was hosting a poker game at a chili cookoff event, so we spent the evening with friends, eating and playing poker. Kaelyn loved all the attention she got and was, to my great relief, very well behaved. She played with the other guests and then fell asleep without too much fuss. We got home late and didn't get to bed until around 1:30am, but the sleep was still good. Kaelyn is up with me and Roger is sleeping in.
We are starting the 6 week body makeover today. I'll keep this blog updated on our progress (although I doubt I'll include actual weight). Be prepared for me to be in a bad mood the next week or so as I adjust to eating less food than I normally do. I'm hoping to stay motivated throughout though.
I'm so happy to be home. Life is good!
Yesterday was relaxing as well. I got up earlier than both Roger and Kaelyn and did my normal saturday morning cleaning. I fed Kaelyn when she woke up (about 45 min after I did), then made Roger and I Greek omelets for breakfast. The weather was beautiful, so we decided to eat outside. It was later in the morning and Kaelyn was already down for her late morning nap, so Roger and I got the rare morning time to relax and talk.
The afternoon was busy for Roger. He cleaned out the garage and did some work in the backyard, while Kaelyn and I relaxed on the back porch and watched Julie and Julia (great movie). Roger was hosting a poker game at a chili cookoff event, so we spent the evening with friends, eating and playing poker. Kaelyn loved all the attention she got and was, to my great relief, very well behaved. She played with the other guests and then fell asleep without too much fuss. We got home late and didn't get to bed until around 1:30am, but the sleep was still good. Kaelyn is up with me and Roger is sleeping in.
We are starting the 6 week body makeover today. I'll keep this blog updated on our progress (although I doubt I'll include actual weight). Be prepared for me to be in a bad mood the next week or so as I adjust to eating less food than I normally do. I'm hoping to stay motivated throughout though.
I'm so happy to be home. Life is good!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Last night in Charlotte
I'm going home tomorrow! I can't wait to see Roger and precious Kaelyn. My heart longs for both of them.
I started this trip a bit down. And I've been down the entire time I've been here. My intention was to be a recluse. Go to class during the day and spend the evenings in my hotel room, on the phone with Roger and reading a book. Instead, I met some wonderful people. I was lucky to be in a group of people that were outgoing, funny, nice, and hard working. We ate dinner together every night...lunch together every day. I gained friendships I never intended to. This has been a much more positive experience than I thought it would be.
I'm almost through my first trip without Kaelyn. Hopefully, I won't have another one for a long time and when I do, I hope they will be few and far between. Tomorrow I see both my loves again. My heart will whole. I pray for safe travel for all of us returning to our families.
I started this trip a bit down. And I've been down the entire time I've been here. My intention was to be a recluse. Go to class during the day and spend the evenings in my hotel room, on the phone with Roger and reading a book. Instead, I met some wonderful people. I was lucky to be in a group of people that were outgoing, funny, nice, and hard working. We ate dinner together every night...lunch together every day. I gained friendships I never intended to. This has been a much more positive experience than I thought it would be.
I'm almost through my first trip without Kaelyn. Hopefully, I won't have another one for a long time and when I do, I hope they will be few and far between. Tomorrow I see both my loves again. My heart will whole. I pray for safe travel for all of us returning to our families.
Monday, April 19, 2010
First 48 Hours Down
Well, the 2nd day of me being away from my loves is done...almost (technically, it will be 48 hours at 8am tomorrow morning). Three and half days and I'll be back home! I feel tortured being away from my baby...both of the them.
I feel like I should take a moment, now, to pay tribute to the men and women who leave their babies, husbands, wives, etc. behind and spend years sometimes fighting for our freedom. I have deployed and yes, I wanted to come home. I missed my friends and family. I longed for my home and my life sans deployment. But, when it comes down to it, I did not feel anywhere close to the anxiety I feel being gone for a just a few days now. The love I feel for my child is exponentially more than I have ever felt for any other living being. Ever. And Roger is right up there with her in my heart. Just a few days of separation, missing even a moment of Kaelyn's life, is torture. All I can think about is going home. So, I can't fathom the sacrifice that the men and women in the military, who miss thier kids and spouses, who sometimes miss the birth of their children, who sacrifice everything must go through. And while I can spend a few moments each day daydreaming about going home, those men and women can't afford to...it's life and death for them. I'm sure if they could trade me these few days, they would take it in a heartbeat. And realizing the magnitude of thier sacrifice, it's even more disheartening to see and read about the protests, the ungratefulness, and even the spoiled way we act towards them and our government. Instead of cheerleading them, helping them, or helping their families, we say we don't agree with their work. We try to make ourselves feel better by saying we "support the troops" but we don't "support the war"...well, you can't not support the "war" and support the troops at the same time. How do you think it feels to give up everything that matters to you and go fight for your country, when your country doesn't want to stand behind the effort? Is it easy to hear that you have given it up for nothing? No one thinks it's worthwile? How is that support?
Ok, off my soap box...just a big heartfelt thank you to those who serve.
I just got off the phone with Roger and teased him about how he must be living at home without me. He swears he's taking care of Kaelyn the way we always do (I believe this) and that the house is in exactly the shape as I would have it (I do not believe this). I thought it would be fun to imagine how he actually is living.
1. I don't think that Roger will make the bed until Friday morning, just before he leaves to pick me up from the airport.
2. He will wash all his dishes, but he won't put them away until the sink is full of them. He won't put them in the dishwasher at all...I don't understand why.
3. He will take off his socks and shoes in our living room and leave them under the table, again, until just before I get home, when he will pick them up and throw them in our closet.
4. He will sleep on the couch at least three nights if not more.
5. He will leave at least two coffee cups lying around the house....make that three. He will leave one in the family room, one outside, and one in the garage. He will have a fourth that he is actively using. On Friday morning, he will think to collect them all...he will find three out of four and be nervous about me finding the fourth one before he does.
6. He will watch the shows he likes instead of giving up some of them to watch what he knows I'll enjoy. He'll be able to flip back and forth between two shows, watching both at once, which he never does when I'm around because he knows it drives me crazy.
7. He will make me at least two home videos so I can see Kaelyn while I'm here...he already made the first one...a cute little video about our trip to the zoo on Saturday. (I posted it on Facebook for my friends).
Roger makes a lot of sacrifices for me. I don't think it can be that easy to live with someone as anal as I am about the house. I'm blessed to have him and knowing what he does for me, just because I like it done, makes me miss him even more.
Other than missing my family, I am actually making the most of this trip. I've met some great people, plan to learn a lot in my class, and have eaten some great food with my new friends. I'll be glad that I took this class and had this experience, but still...I will be happy to be back home!
Well, this blog has gone all over the place. It's as random as I feel I am at the moment. It's so hard to stay focused on one thought, when all my thoughts go back to Roger and Kaelyn...
I feel like I should take a moment, now, to pay tribute to the men and women who leave their babies, husbands, wives, etc. behind and spend years sometimes fighting for our freedom. I have deployed and yes, I wanted to come home. I missed my friends and family. I longed for my home and my life sans deployment. But, when it comes down to it, I did not feel anywhere close to the anxiety I feel being gone for a just a few days now. The love I feel for my child is exponentially more than I have ever felt for any other living being. Ever. And Roger is right up there with her in my heart. Just a few days of separation, missing even a moment of Kaelyn's life, is torture. All I can think about is going home. So, I can't fathom the sacrifice that the men and women in the military, who miss thier kids and spouses, who sometimes miss the birth of their children, who sacrifice everything must go through. And while I can spend a few moments each day daydreaming about going home, those men and women can't afford to...it's life and death for them. I'm sure if they could trade me these few days, they would take it in a heartbeat. And realizing the magnitude of thier sacrifice, it's even more disheartening to see and read about the protests, the ungratefulness, and even the spoiled way we act towards them and our government. Instead of cheerleading them, helping them, or helping their families, we say we don't agree with their work. We try to make ourselves feel better by saying we "support the troops" but we don't "support the war"...well, you can't not support the "war" and support the troops at the same time. How do you think it feels to give up everything that matters to you and go fight for your country, when your country doesn't want to stand behind the effort? Is it easy to hear that you have given it up for nothing? No one thinks it's worthwile? How is that support?
Ok, off my soap box...just a big heartfelt thank you to those who serve.
I just got off the phone with Roger and teased him about how he must be living at home without me. He swears he's taking care of Kaelyn the way we always do (I believe this) and that the house is in exactly the shape as I would have it (I do not believe this). I thought it would be fun to imagine how he actually is living.
1. I don't think that Roger will make the bed until Friday morning, just before he leaves to pick me up from the airport.
2. He will wash all his dishes, but he won't put them away until the sink is full of them. He won't put them in the dishwasher at all...I don't understand why.
3. He will take off his socks and shoes in our living room and leave them under the table, again, until just before I get home, when he will pick them up and throw them in our closet.
4. He will sleep on the couch at least three nights if not more.
5. He will leave at least two coffee cups lying around the house....make that three. He will leave one in the family room, one outside, and one in the garage. He will have a fourth that he is actively using. On Friday morning, he will think to collect them all...he will find three out of four and be nervous about me finding the fourth one before he does.
6. He will watch the shows he likes instead of giving up some of them to watch what he knows I'll enjoy. He'll be able to flip back and forth between two shows, watching both at once, which he never does when I'm around because he knows it drives me crazy.
7. He will make me at least two home videos so I can see Kaelyn while I'm here...he already made the first one...a cute little video about our trip to the zoo on Saturday. (I posted it on Facebook for my friends).
Roger makes a lot of sacrifices for me. I don't think it can be that easy to live with someone as anal as I am about the house. I'm blessed to have him and knowing what he does for me, just because I like it done, makes me miss him even more.
Other than missing my family, I am actually making the most of this trip. I've met some great people, plan to learn a lot in my class, and have eaten some great food with my new friends. I'll be glad that I took this class and had this experience, but still...I will be happy to be back home!
Well, this blog has gone all over the place. It's as random as I feel I am at the moment. It's so hard to stay focused on one thought, when all my thoughts go back to Roger and Kaelyn...
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Day at the Zoo
Roger and I decided to take advantage of the great weather yesterday and took Kaelyn to the zoo. Since the backyard project is finally done (mostly), and I had to leave for Charlotte this morning, we wanted to spend Saturday with just our little family. Apparently, most people with kids had the same idea. It was packed! I had never been to the Sacramento zoo before and it has been years for Roger. Because I'm an animal fanatic, we decided to become members. We only have to go back one more time to get our money's worth.
Anyway, the weather was perfect...but, we had to walk a little over half a mile to get there. It wasn't too bad. Kaelyn was alert and looked up at the trees and birds. She wasn't too much into tha animals at the zoo and seemed more interested in the people, the brightly colored clothes, and just being outside. Still, she had a conversation with a chimpanzee, who seemed just as interested (or should I say not) as she was in him. She is such a social butterfly though. She would babble at kids and adults alike and shriek at all the excitement. About an hour into the visit, we took a break and gave her a bottle and she slept through the rest of it. I guess it was as much as we can expect from a six and half month old...I can't believe my baby is almost 7 months!
After the zoo, we walked back to our truck and got the picnic lunch we had packed that morning. We parked in a park, so we just plopped ourselves down on the grass and enjoyed our sandwiches and drinks for a late afternoon lunch. Kaelyn decided to wake up for that, and spent our lunch "talking" to us and whoever happened to walk by.
What a great day.
I left for Charlotte this morning. I'm not looking forward to spending the next five days without my family. I took this job because it allowed me more time to spend with them...but, it comes with a trade off...and that's the possiblility of these little trips. So far, I have week long training classes scheduled for one week every month. this is the only one that isn't held in Sacramento. I can't wait to go home on Friday. Roger and Kaelyn dropped me off at the airport this morning and I actually cried as I said good bye to them.
I just got off the phone with them a few minutes ago. Kaelyn is her normal happy self...I just have to keep reminding myself that this hurts me way more than it hurts her...and her feelings are really what is most important to me...
Still, I miss home and am already counting the days until I go back.
Anyway, the weather was perfect...but, we had to walk a little over half a mile to get there. It wasn't too bad. Kaelyn was alert and looked up at the trees and birds. She wasn't too much into tha animals at the zoo and seemed more interested in the people, the brightly colored clothes, and just being outside. Still, she had a conversation with a chimpanzee, who seemed just as interested (or should I say not) as she was in him. She is such a social butterfly though. She would babble at kids and adults alike and shriek at all the excitement. About an hour into the visit, we took a break and gave her a bottle and she slept through the rest of it. I guess it was as much as we can expect from a six and half month old...I can't believe my baby is almost 7 months!
After the zoo, we walked back to our truck and got the picnic lunch we had packed that morning. We parked in a park, so we just plopped ourselves down on the grass and enjoyed our sandwiches and drinks for a late afternoon lunch. Kaelyn decided to wake up for that, and spent our lunch "talking" to us and whoever happened to walk by.
What a great day.
I left for Charlotte this morning. I'm not looking forward to spending the next five days without my family. I took this job because it allowed me more time to spend with them...but, it comes with a trade off...and that's the possiblility of these little trips. So far, I have week long training classes scheduled for one week every month. this is the only one that isn't held in Sacramento. I can't wait to go home on Friday. Roger and Kaelyn dropped me off at the airport this morning and I actually cried as I said good bye to them.
I just got off the phone with them a few minutes ago. Kaelyn is her normal happy self...I just have to keep reminding myself that this hurts me way more than it hurts her...and her feelings are really what is most important to me...
Still, I miss home and am already counting the days until I go back.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Rant
I wrote this a couple of days ago…..
I have to say that I’m in a much better mood today than I was yesterday. Although it’s still cloudy, the sun is out and it’s not raining. Roger assures me that he can have the backyard done and cleaned up by Thursday…coincidentally, the same day his cigar club wants to come out and use it. But whatever, I’ll take it!
Looking at the weather report, it looks like we can expect clear skies for the rest of the week and for once, the weekend. The rain is scheduled to start again on Monday and last throughout the week. This is so odd for us…on the positive side, I will be in Charlotte next week, where the weather will be great. On the down side, I will be in Charlotte without my wonderful husband and beautiful daughter. I would much rather be in the rain with them than in the sunshine without…
And that thought leads me to my current thoughts…I think that my bad mood of the last few days may be lingering. I recently had the (dis)pleasure of reading an “opinion” piece posted by an old friend’s wife. In her opinion, mothers are not good mothers if they choose to work. This subject is near and dear to my heart…being a working mother…and more importantly, being a working mother who struggles, at times, with the guilt of having a successful career while raising a child. Somehow, the stigma has gone from Stay at Home moms not doing any work (we all know that every mother works hard), to the working mother somehow neglecting her children.
I think we’ve all read the article or seen the news program that calculates what the salary of a stay-at-home mom would be if she were paid for all her mothering services (maid, cook, nurse, therapist, etc.) I agree that mothers (and fathers) are generally underappreciated. Being a parent is hard. It’s very rewarding, but not monetarily so (quite the opposite)! But, what those articles fail to realize, along with my friend’s wife, is that I’m all those things too…only, I work a secondary job as an engineer on top of all that. Those articles also offend the fathers. Roger is also a maid, a nurse, a cook, and runs his own business. Raising a child and sharing household responsibilities shouldn’t be only the mother’s job.
Friend’s wife mentioned that when she became a mother she chose to put her children before everything else. That staying home showed that nothing was more important than the time that she spent with them. She will not work because she can’t fathom taking anything away from her children. I’ll admit that she offended me in her statements. And I’m angry that I feel that I have to justify my decisions as a mother (these are all things I would like to say to her, but won’t). Her “opinion” insinuates that by working, I somehow did not choose to put my child first. That my daughter, her happiness, well-being, and development are less important to me than my career. She is wrong on all counts.
First, there has not been a moment that has passed, a decision made by either myself or Roger that did not take into account the effect it will have on Kaelyn. Her needs and best interest is always in the forefront of my mind. My time with her is more precious than anything. I made tough choices about my career (I even changed jobs) once Kaelyn was born. Choosing to work and be a mother was not an easy decision. Anyone who pretends that all women have the choice to stay at home full time is both misdirected and uninformed. Not every woman has that choice. In many ways, I did have a choice and some may find it hard to believe, but my choice to work, was not for selfish reasons. My choice was made because I thought that by working, I would be a better mother.
This is also the time to clarify that I have nothing against stay at home moms. As a matter of fact, there are many times that I am envious of them. Not because I think they are better mothers. Not because I think that their days aren’t busy or difficult. And not even because I feel like they have more quality time with their kids. I am envious, because there are some days that I just don’t want to work. I’d rather be just a mother and not a mother and an engineer. I also admire the fact that they can stay home. I found out during my maternity leave that I get a release from work that I need in order to keep my sanity and be a good mother to Kaelyn. I am envious that some women don’t need that. I think that women make the choices that work best for their families. My friend’s wife’s choices are best for her and her kids. Mine are best for my family. She has no right to judge because my choices are different.
A big bother for me in this whole “opinion”, is that because I go to work, I don’t spend time with my daughter, that I don’t cook her healthy meals (or cook at all), I don’t clean, and that I’ve left raising my child up to a stranger. Again, all wrong. Here’s my typical day:
4:30 am – wake up and shower
5:00 am – get Kaelyn up and feed her.
5:30 am – play with Kaelyn while I get ready for work
6:00 am – leave for work
6:30 am – 3:00 pm – work. During my half hour lunch break, I often call to check up on Kaelyn (either with Roger or our friends who watch her when he’s working). I make her doctor appointments. Read up on her expected milestones. Look for guidance on what I can do to be a better mother to her.
3:30 pm – pick up Kaelyn (unless Roger already has her) and go home. This is also the time that I do my grocery shopping.
4:00 pm – 6:00 pm – family time with Kaelyn and Roger. We play with her. Read to her. Talk about our days and 100% focus on each other. My current job allows me to have this time where my previous job did not.
6:00 pm – cook dinner
7:00 pm – more quality time with Roger and Kaelyn….playing, taking pictures, laughing together and eating dinner.
8:30 pm – give Kaelyn a bath, start our bedtime routine.
9:00 pm – Kaelyn in bed.
After all that, when many people would sit back and relax with a glass of wine, a book, or watch a movie. I still have to clean the house, do laundry, prepare meals such as lunches for Roger and myself and workout. I look at our schedules for the next day and make sure that we know if we have to take Kaelyn to our friend’s home for a few hours, make sure she knows if we are bringing her by, and coordinate our schedules with each other. I rarely can get to bed before 11pm to midnight. I definitely don’t get time to relax and unwind. In other words, I sacrifice my personal time so that my time at work does not lessen my time with my child or my responsibilities as her mother. I do not come home, complain about working all day and then proceed to neglect Kaelyn so I can take care of myself.
It seems, according to my friend’s wife, that because I spend the hours between 6:30 and 3 at work, that I don’t care enough for my child. All the things that I do when I’m not at work, don’t count. That the only quality time I can have with my child is during those hours where I’m at work…and regardless of the fact that our “sitter” is a good friend, with children Kaelyn’s age (and older), who loves her, cares for safety and development as much as Roger and I do, the fact that she spends any time away from us during the week, means that she feels unloved, unimportant, and her development will be delayed. This is BS.
The fact is, being separated from Kaelyn hurts me. I want to be with her 24/7. I think about her all the time. Leaving her with anyone else and missing one second of her life is hard for me. But, this separation does not hurt Kaelyn. There are countless studies out there that show that children of working mothers are not delayed in development, they have no trauma of being separated from their parents during the day, and they are exactly like children whose mothers stay at home. Where they do differ is that many times they have learned to be more independent. They have advanced social skills in that they interact with children they are not related to. They have the ability to function in environments outside the home without the aid or safety net of their parents. They are better prepared to spend some time away from their parents when they start school. The studies also show that most often, women who work are happier, more confident, and more satisfied with their lives than women who stay home full time. Working mothers spend less time on leisure activities for themselves (I can vouch for that) and the time they spend with their children, because not constant, tends to be focused 100% on the child. For example, one article I read quoted a mother, who stayed home with her daughter as saying that when her daughter was coloring or playing, that the mother caught up on other things, such as house cleaning, or took that time to watch a movie. She stated that when she went back to work, if her daughter was coloring or playing, she colored and played with her.
Again, these statements cannot be absolute. I’m sure that my friend’s wife is not dissatisfied with her life or unhappy. To the contrary she sounds like she’s extremely happy with her life choices. I also know that she arranges play dates for them to interact with other children and does have family members watch them so she can take care of other things in her life. For all this I applaud her. Her decisions are best for her and her family and that will bode well for her children. My only beef is her narrow-mindedness at my choices.
My final rant on this is the lack of the fathers in all these analyses. Why does no one criticize the fathers for working? Why do they not get told that if they go to work they are bad fathers? On the contrary, they are expected to live by that golden rule: Thou shall go to work and make money to provide for your family. Thou shall not feel guilty or divided by giving up time with your children to go to work.
I mentioned in an earlier post how great a father Roger is. And my jealousy of his greatness does stem from the stereotype that because I’m the mother, I’m the one that should be home…I should be the only nurturer. The truth is, it’s up to both Roger and I to provide financial support for our family…we chose to both work to bring in that money. It’s up to both of us to parent and nurture Kaelyn…and that’s what we do. Me going to work does not make me any worse of a mother than Roger staying home a couple of days a week makes him a worse father. Most importantly, our choices are best for Kaelyn.
I have to say that I’m in a much better mood today than I was yesterday. Although it’s still cloudy, the sun is out and it’s not raining. Roger assures me that he can have the backyard done and cleaned up by Thursday…coincidentally, the same day his cigar club wants to come out and use it. But whatever, I’ll take it!
Looking at the weather report, it looks like we can expect clear skies for the rest of the week and for once, the weekend. The rain is scheduled to start again on Monday and last throughout the week. This is so odd for us…on the positive side, I will be in Charlotte next week, where the weather will be great. On the down side, I will be in Charlotte without my wonderful husband and beautiful daughter. I would much rather be in the rain with them than in the sunshine without…
And that thought leads me to my current thoughts…I think that my bad mood of the last few days may be lingering. I recently had the (dis)pleasure of reading an “opinion” piece posted by an old friend’s wife. In her opinion, mothers are not good mothers if they choose to work. This subject is near and dear to my heart…being a working mother…and more importantly, being a working mother who struggles, at times, with the guilt of having a successful career while raising a child. Somehow, the stigma has gone from Stay at Home moms not doing any work (we all know that every mother works hard), to the working mother somehow neglecting her children.
I think we’ve all read the article or seen the news program that calculates what the salary of a stay-at-home mom would be if she were paid for all her mothering services (maid, cook, nurse, therapist, etc.) I agree that mothers (and fathers) are generally underappreciated. Being a parent is hard. It’s very rewarding, but not monetarily so (quite the opposite)! But, what those articles fail to realize, along with my friend’s wife, is that I’m all those things too…only, I work a secondary job as an engineer on top of all that. Those articles also offend the fathers. Roger is also a maid, a nurse, a cook, and runs his own business. Raising a child and sharing household responsibilities shouldn’t be only the mother’s job.
Friend’s wife mentioned that when she became a mother she chose to put her children before everything else. That staying home showed that nothing was more important than the time that she spent with them. She will not work because she can’t fathom taking anything away from her children. I’ll admit that she offended me in her statements. And I’m angry that I feel that I have to justify my decisions as a mother (these are all things I would like to say to her, but won’t). Her “opinion” insinuates that by working, I somehow did not choose to put my child first. That my daughter, her happiness, well-being, and development are less important to me than my career. She is wrong on all counts.
First, there has not been a moment that has passed, a decision made by either myself or Roger that did not take into account the effect it will have on Kaelyn. Her needs and best interest is always in the forefront of my mind. My time with her is more precious than anything. I made tough choices about my career (I even changed jobs) once Kaelyn was born. Choosing to work and be a mother was not an easy decision. Anyone who pretends that all women have the choice to stay at home full time is both misdirected and uninformed. Not every woman has that choice. In many ways, I did have a choice and some may find it hard to believe, but my choice to work, was not for selfish reasons. My choice was made because I thought that by working, I would be a better mother.
This is also the time to clarify that I have nothing against stay at home moms. As a matter of fact, there are many times that I am envious of them. Not because I think they are better mothers. Not because I think that their days aren’t busy or difficult. And not even because I feel like they have more quality time with their kids. I am envious, because there are some days that I just don’t want to work. I’d rather be just a mother and not a mother and an engineer. I also admire the fact that they can stay home. I found out during my maternity leave that I get a release from work that I need in order to keep my sanity and be a good mother to Kaelyn. I am envious that some women don’t need that. I think that women make the choices that work best for their families. My friend’s wife’s choices are best for her and her kids. Mine are best for my family. She has no right to judge because my choices are different.
A big bother for me in this whole “opinion”, is that because I go to work, I don’t spend time with my daughter, that I don’t cook her healthy meals (or cook at all), I don’t clean, and that I’ve left raising my child up to a stranger. Again, all wrong. Here’s my typical day:
4:30 am – wake up and shower
5:00 am – get Kaelyn up and feed her.
5:30 am – play with Kaelyn while I get ready for work
6:00 am – leave for work
6:30 am – 3:00 pm – work. During my half hour lunch break, I often call to check up on Kaelyn (either with Roger or our friends who watch her when he’s working). I make her doctor appointments. Read up on her expected milestones. Look for guidance on what I can do to be a better mother to her.
3:30 pm – pick up Kaelyn (unless Roger already has her) and go home. This is also the time that I do my grocery shopping.
4:00 pm – 6:00 pm – family time with Kaelyn and Roger. We play with her. Read to her. Talk about our days and 100% focus on each other. My current job allows me to have this time where my previous job did not.
6:00 pm – cook dinner
7:00 pm – more quality time with Roger and Kaelyn….playing, taking pictures, laughing together and eating dinner.
8:30 pm – give Kaelyn a bath, start our bedtime routine.
9:00 pm – Kaelyn in bed.
After all that, when many people would sit back and relax with a glass of wine, a book, or watch a movie. I still have to clean the house, do laundry, prepare meals such as lunches for Roger and myself and workout. I look at our schedules for the next day and make sure that we know if we have to take Kaelyn to our friend’s home for a few hours, make sure she knows if we are bringing her by, and coordinate our schedules with each other. I rarely can get to bed before 11pm to midnight. I definitely don’t get time to relax and unwind. In other words, I sacrifice my personal time so that my time at work does not lessen my time with my child or my responsibilities as her mother. I do not come home, complain about working all day and then proceed to neglect Kaelyn so I can take care of myself.
It seems, according to my friend’s wife, that because I spend the hours between 6:30 and 3 at work, that I don’t care enough for my child. All the things that I do when I’m not at work, don’t count. That the only quality time I can have with my child is during those hours where I’m at work…and regardless of the fact that our “sitter” is a good friend, with children Kaelyn’s age (and older), who loves her, cares for safety and development as much as Roger and I do, the fact that she spends any time away from us during the week, means that she feels unloved, unimportant, and her development will be delayed. This is BS.
The fact is, being separated from Kaelyn hurts me. I want to be with her 24/7. I think about her all the time. Leaving her with anyone else and missing one second of her life is hard for me. But, this separation does not hurt Kaelyn. There are countless studies out there that show that children of working mothers are not delayed in development, they have no trauma of being separated from their parents during the day, and they are exactly like children whose mothers stay at home. Where they do differ is that many times they have learned to be more independent. They have advanced social skills in that they interact with children they are not related to. They have the ability to function in environments outside the home without the aid or safety net of their parents. They are better prepared to spend some time away from their parents when they start school. The studies also show that most often, women who work are happier, more confident, and more satisfied with their lives than women who stay home full time. Working mothers spend less time on leisure activities for themselves (I can vouch for that) and the time they spend with their children, because not constant, tends to be focused 100% on the child. For example, one article I read quoted a mother, who stayed home with her daughter as saying that when her daughter was coloring or playing, that the mother caught up on other things, such as house cleaning, or took that time to watch a movie. She stated that when she went back to work, if her daughter was coloring or playing, she colored and played with her.
Again, these statements cannot be absolute. I’m sure that my friend’s wife is not dissatisfied with her life or unhappy. To the contrary she sounds like she’s extremely happy with her life choices. I also know that she arranges play dates for them to interact with other children and does have family members watch them so she can take care of other things in her life. For all this I applaud her. Her decisions are best for her and her family and that will bode well for her children. My only beef is her narrow-mindedness at my choices.
My final rant on this is the lack of the fathers in all these analyses. Why does no one criticize the fathers for working? Why do they not get told that if they go to work they are bad fathers? On the contrary, they are expected to live by that golden rule: Thou shall go to work and make money to provide for your family. Thou shall not feel guilty or divided by giving up time with your children to go to work.
I mentioned in an earlier post how great a father Roger is. And my jealousy of his greatness does stem from the stereotype that because I’m the mother, I’m the one that should be home…I should be the only nurturer. The truth is, it’s up to both Roger and I to provide financial support for our family…we chose to both work to bring in that money. It’s up to both of us to parent and nurture Kaelyn…and that’s what we do. Me going to work does not make me any worse of a mother than Roger staying home a couple of days a week makes him a worse father. Most importantly, our choices are best for Kaelyn.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Down
I admit I’ve been feeling a little down the last couple of days…for no reason that I can pinpoint at the moment. The weather probably has a lot to do with it though. It’s been windy, which is usual, and rainy, which is unusual for this area. And while I understand that we need the rain, I still can’t help but feel put off by it. The backyard project has been severely delayed because of the weather. It seems to rain every weekend. This is normal until about mid-March, but this late into the year, the rain should be gone until October. We actually had a break in the weather on Saturday, and Roger was able to finish the stucco. But, there’s still a lot to be done…painting, finish details on the tiling, the footboards, and probably something else that I can’t think of right now. I’m not one that can deal with a lot of chaos and disorder. Backyard projects are somewhat easier for me to handle than indoor ones, but the length of time that this has been going on, coupled with the myriad of tools and furniture scattered in the backyard (plus the tools that Roger is keeping in our kitchen because it’s closer than running back and forth to the garage) is putting me on edge. I need this project done already! To make it worse, we’ve reached the point in construction where my help is really not helpful at all…so, I want to hurry things along, but I can’t really DO anything…it’s frustrating.
My weight issues are probably another reason for my bad mood. I’m not used to being this uncomfortable in my skin. I have only been really working at losing weight for the last three weeks, and I am 10 pounds down, but it’s taking more effort than I’m used to. Before I had Kaelyn, I was thin…not a model, but a comfortable size 4/6. I enjoyed food and even though I would gain weight if I ate everything I wanted, all I had to do was slightly change my diet or pump up my exercise and I’d lose weight. It’s not that easy anymore and that’s depressing. The “diet” I’m on is a good one. It makes sense. Eat a serving of a protein and a carb every three hours, eats lots of vegetables, drink water, and exercise. It’s not rocket science. But it’s not easy when I’ve had a lifetime of being allowed to really enjoy food. I love to cook and it seems that I can no longer enjoy the flavorful, fresh meals of my past and can definitely no longer even look at or smell a dessert without gaining weight.
Saturday night, we went to a Macaroni and Cheese party. It was good to get together with friends and I decided that for one night it wouldn’t hurt if I tasted all the different mac and cheese dishes. After all, how was I to judge the food if I didn’t taste it all? I had a great time, but woke up Sunday morning bloated and feeling like crap. Yet another thing to agitate my already bad mood. Even after Roger made a delicious breakfast and I drank the most wonderful cup of coffee ever, I couldn’t make myself feel better. I also figured out, during breakfast, that I needed to spend the majority of the day out shopping (this really was a necessity). I wanted to take Kaelyn with me, so I could spend some time with her. She was extremely well behaved, but dragging a six month old from store to store in the pouring rain wasn’t my idea of a fun or even relaxing Sunday. When we got home, we were both tired and hungry. I fed Kaelyn and put together a closet organizer I had gotten for her, while Roger made us dinner. Halibut and a side salad. It was delicious as usual and I was really hoping that once I had a healthy meal, put Kaelyn to bed, and had a few minutes to relax with a good book, my mood would shift. But, I woke up this morning just as cranky as I did yesterday…if not more so.
I realize that all I’m doing right now is whining and complaining about nothing. I realize I’m not the only person to feel down for no reason and I know that anyone who knows me and might be reading this will think I’m crazy to complain about the life I have. I do love my family and my life. But I also feel that I have a right to feel down every now and then, and today is one of those times where I reserve the right to be in a bad mood.
I do want this to end though. Next week, I will be in Charlotte without Roger and Kaelyn. I’ve never been separated from Kaelyn for that long, and the last time Roger and I went a week without seeing each other, was well before we married. In the grand scheme of things, a week (actually 5.5 days) is not a horrible length of time to be away from my family…especially considering the military members who spend up to a year or longer away from theirs. Still, I don’t want to go. I want to stay home with my husband and daughter…sleep in my own bed and know, that at the end of a hard day at work, I will be returning to them and not an empty hotel room. I definitely want the days leading up to the separation to be marked with us having a good time with each other and not me being cranky and on edge. Now that I think about it, this impending trip probably is the culprit for my current feelings…
My weight issues are probably another reason for my bad mood. I’m not used to being this uncomfortable in my skin. I have only been really working at losing weight for the last three weeks, and I am 10 pounds down, but it’s taking more effort than I’m used to. Before I had Kaelyn, I was thin…not a model, but a comfortable size 4/6. I enjoyed food and even though I would gain weight if I ate everything I wanted, all I had to do was slightly change my diet or pump up my exercise and I’d lose weight. It’s not that easy anymore and that’s depressing. The “diet” I’m on is a good one. It makes sense. Eat a serving of a protein and a carb every three hours, eats lots of vegetables, drink water, and exercise. It’s not rocket science. But it’s not easy when I’ve had a lifetime of being allowed to really enjoy food. I love to cook and it seems that I can no longer enjoy the flavorful, fresh meals of my past and can definitely no longer even look at or smell a dessert without gaining weight.
Saturday night, we went to a Macaroni and Cheese party. It was good to get together with friends and I decided that for one night it wouldn’t hurt if I tasted all the different mac and cheese dishes. After all, how was I to judge the food if I didn’t taste it all? I had a great time, but woke up Sunday morning bloated and feeling like crap. Yet another thing to agitate my already bad mood. Even after Roger made a delicious breakfast and I drank the most wonderful cup of coffee ever, I couldn’t make myself feel better. I also figured out, during breakfast, that I needed to spend the majority of the day out shopping (this really was a necessity). I wanted to take Kaelyn with me, so I could spend some time with her. She was extremely well behaved, but dragging a six month old from store to store in the pouring rain wasn’t my idea of a fun or even relaxing Sunday. When we got home, we were both tired and hungry. I fed Kaelyn and put together a closet organizer I had gotten for her, while Roger made us dinner. Halibut and a side salad. It was delicious as usual and I was really hoping that once I had a healthy meal, put Kaelyn to bed, and had a few minutes to relax with a good book, my mood would shift. But, I woke up this morning just as cranky as I did yesterday…if not more so.
I realize that all I’m doing right now is whining and complaining about nothing. I realize I’m not the only person to feel down for no reason and I know that anyone who knows me and might be reading this will think I’m crazy to complain about the life I have. I do love my family and my life. But I also feel that I have a right to feel down every now and then, and today is one of those times where I reserve the right to be in a bad mood.
I do want this to end though. Next week, I will be in Charlotte without Roger and Kaelyn. I’ve never been separated from Kaelyn for that long, and the last time Roger and I went a week without seeing each other, was well before we married. In the grand scheme of things, a week (actually 5.5 days) is not a horrible length of time to be away from my family…especially considering the military members who spend up to a year or longer away from theirs. Still, I don’t want to go. I want to stay home with my husband and daughter…sleep in my own bed and know, that at the end of a hard day at work, I will be returning to them and not an empty hotel room. I definitely want the days leading up to the separation to be marked with us having a good time with each other and not me being cranky and on edge. Now that I think about it, this impending trip probably is the culprit for my current feelings…
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Disbelief
When I was a West Point Cadet, I learned a lot about death. Death was always looming over us…the school is filled with ghosts of every cadet, officer, and war hero that came before us. We learned how to kill. We learned how to survive. We learned not to fear death. And I didn’t. Because at that young age, I didn’t know death. Even though I was (sort of) training to fight in war someday, I did not consider death. It didn’t seem real. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. I had experienced death already…it’s not that it was foreign to me. After all, a high school friend, an Airman, had been killed in Khobar Towers while I was a cadet. I witnessed a suicide my yearling year. I knew death was possible…but I didn’t think it was probable. I didn’t stop, ever, to consider that any of us would grow up and die in war. I only thought…we would be Army Officers, we would get married, we would have kids.
But, I didn’t become an Army officer. Instead, by some twists of fate, I became an Air Force Officer…a Civil Engineer. In the Air Force, pretty much only our pilots see combat. I deployed, but in a supporting role. Our squadrons had deployment after deployment and it never occurred to me that we wouldn’t all come back, every time…and we did. Every time. I spent years in my oblivion. I would call my parents and tell them not to worry about me. It’s not like it was on television. I was not going to die. None of us were. I was so naïve. Either that or I just chose to block it out. After all, we were shot at flying into Saudi Arabia…we were shot at flying out. I was so sure, though, that those missiles would never hit us…even after visiting the Khobar Tower memorial in person, and staring at the picture of my old friend, years after his death. The Air Force might have never sent me to direct combat, but there was always a chance that the combat would come to me. I don’t think I ever prepared for that mentally.
But, I learned something in my final years as an Air Force Officer…my Army friends had it different. They deployed to a different war than I did. They went to combat. And, unfortunately, some of them didn’t make it home. And as I learned of and mourned my old friends and classmates, my view of death changed. It became real. It became tangible. And it was guaranteed to affect us all somehow…some day. My classmates did what I had expected. They became Army Officers. They got married. They had kids. And then they died in war.
In 2004 (or 2005), I met Jenna. She was entering the career I was leaving behind. She was even going where I had just come from…Misawa, Japan. There aren’t many of us women civil engineers in the Air Force. Running into her, just starting out as I had finished up, felt surreal. She was the new generation. I felt like I had to help her. I didn’t have a female mentor when I was her age. I wasn’t around many women like us at all. I told her every mistake I made so she wouldn’t repeat them. I gave her all the tips I had. I silently followed her career…like a proud mother. I wanted her to become more than I did.
And she did. She accepted a deployment leading a PRT in Afghanistan. She was attached to the Army. She was going to combat…something I never thought an Air Force Civil Engineer would have to do. By then, I had already learned to respect death…and so, I feared that for Jenna. She was going to the war my Army friends went to…she was going to a war where death was a possibility. Over the last year, I followed her on her blog as she told stories about her experiences. I read about “Project Notebook” and how her heart went out to the children of Afghanistan. She wanted to help them. I laughed to myself during her initial training with the Army…it sounded so much like West Point…and of course it was…they were training us for war. But, Jenna knew what was in store for her, where I had refused to acknowledge it.
I remember times when I would be frustrated because she wouldn’t update her blog enough for me. I worried that every time I didn’t hear news from her, it was because something had happened to her. I can’t imagine what that did to her parents. I was shocked the day I read that her convoy had been hit with a roadside bomb…something she didn’t share with most of us until two months after it had happened. I thanked God that she had survived.
A few weeks ago, I read that Jenna had returned home. She was safe. Her husband, who had just completed the same deployment, was also safe. They were going to Scotland for vacation. Everything was OK. I stopped worrying about Jenna.
On Friday morning, April 2, exactly one year after she started her Army training, I woke up to the news of Jenna’s untimely and tragic death. I had missed the news that she was in an accident in Scotland five days earlier. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as I realized what had happened. After all she had just been through, just as she was reintegrating herself back into her normal life as a non-combatant Air Force officer, finally with her husband, her life has ended. She is gone. Coincidentally, her career lasted just as long as mine.
Today there is a memorial service being held in her honor. But, I still don’t understand how this happened. I can’t stop thinking about her. I know what happened. But why? How could she have gone through so much only to lose her life so young? I think I may have been able to accept her death if it happened in war…I could blame the war. I mentally prepared for and experienced the deaths of my friends in war. But an accident that involved no one else? Why? Who do I blame for that? I can only imagine what her family is going through now. I had only met her briefly, yet I feel the emptiness of a world without her in it.
Jenna never felt like a hero and didn’t like it when people called her one. But she is a hero. She is beautiful, and strong, and brave. She made a positive difference in the world. Rest in Peace, Jenna. You did a good job.
But, I didn’t become an Army officer. Instead, by some twists of fate, I became an Air Force Officer…a Civil Engineer. In the Air Force, pretty much only our pilots see combat. I deployed, but in a supporting role. Our squadrons had deployment after deployment and it never occurred to me that we wouldn’t all come back, every time…and we did. Every time. I spent years in my oblivion. I would call my parents and tell them not to worry about me. It’s not like it was on television. I was not going to die. None of us were. I was so naïve. Either that or I just chose to block it out. After all, we were shot at flying into Saudi Arabia…we were shot at flying out. I was so sure, though, that those missiles would never hit us…even after visiting the Khobar Tower memorial in person, and staring at the picture of my old friend, years after his death. The Air Force might have never sent me to direct combat, but there was always a chance that the combat would come to me. I don’t think I ever prepared for that mentally.
But, I learned something in my final years as an Air Force Officer…my Army friends had it different. They deployed to a different war than I did. They went to combat. And, unfortunately, some of them didn’t make it home. And as I learned of and mourned my old friends and classmates, my view of death changed. It became real. It became tangible. And it was guaranteed to affect us all somehow…some day. My classmates did what I had expected. They became Army Officers. They got married. They had kids. And then they died in war.
In 2004 (or 2005), I met Jenna. She was entering the career I was leaving behind. She was even going where I had just come from…Misawa, Japan. There aren’t many of us women civil engineers in the Air Force. Running into her, just starting out as I had finished up, felt surreal. She was the new generation. I felt like I had to help her. I didn’t have a female mentor when I was her age. I wasn’t around many women like us at all. I told her every mistake I made so she wouldn’t repeat them. I gave her all the tips I had. I silently followed her career…like a proud mother. I wanted her to become more than I did.
And she did. She accepted a deployment leading a PRT in Afghanistan. She was attached to the Army. She was going to combat…something I never thought an Air Force Civil Engineer would have to do. By then, I had already learned to respect death…and so, I feared that for Jenna. She was going to the war my Army friends went to…she was going to a war where death was a possibility. Over the last year, I followed her on her blog as she told stories about her experiences. I read about “Project Notebook” and how her heart went out to the children of Afghanistan. She wanted to help them. I laughed to myself during her initial training with the Army…it sounded so much like West Point…and of course it was…they were training us for war. But, Jenna knew what was in store for her, where I had refused to acknowledge it.
I remember times when I would be frustrated because she wouldn’t update her blog enough for me. I worried that every time I didn’t hear news from her, it was because something had happened to her. I can’t imagine what that did to her parents. I was shocked the day I read that her convoy had been hit with a roadside bomb…something she didn’t share with most of us until two months after it had happened. I thanked God that she had survived.
A few weeks ago, I read that Jenna had returned home. She was safe. Her husband, who had just completed the same deployment, was also safe. They were going to Scotland for vacation. Everything was OK. I stopped worrying about Jenna.
On Friday morning, April 2, exactly one year after she started her Army training, I woke up to the news of Jenna’s untimely and tragic death. I had missed the news that she was in an accident in Scotland five days earlier. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as I realized what had happened. After all she had just been through, just as she was reintegrating herself back into her normal life as a non-combatant Air Force officer, finally with her husband, her life has ended. She is gone. Coincidentally, her career lasted just as long as mine.
Today there is a memorial service being held in her honor. But, I still don’t understand how this happened. I can’t stop thinking about her. I know what happened. But why? How could she have gone through so much only to lose her life so young? I think I may have been able to accept her death if it happened in war…I could blame the war. I mentally prepared for and experienced the deaths of my friends in war. But an accident that involved no one else? Why? Who do I blame for that? I can only imagine what her family is going through now. I had only met her briefly, yet I feel the emptiness of a world without her in it.
Jenna never felt like a hero and didn’t like it when people called her one. But she is a hero. She is beautiful, and strong, and brave. She made a positive difference in the world. Rest in Peace, Jenna. You did a good job.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Easter Weekend
I was looking forward to this Easter more than any other, mainly because it was Kaelyn’s first. Even though she’s too young, still, to understand the Easter Bunny, egg hunts, etc, I still went through the motions. My mom sent her a large Easter package filled with spring clothes, a cute dress, and stuffed bunnies. I bought her an Easter basket and Friday night, we died eggs to go in them. I also filled it with chocolate/peanut butter eggs, Cadbury cream eggs, and jelly beans…all of which were really for Roger. After she went to bed Saturday night, I added her stuffed animals to the rest of the goods and went to bed with visions of her a couple of years from now, waking up on Easter morning, rushing to see what the Easter Bunny left her and excitedly going outside and hunting the eggs that Roger and I hid the night before.
I’ll have to wait for that, because this year she acted like she does every other day. Waking up at 6:30, hungry and curious. She took a few moments later in the morning to examine her basket. She played with the Easter lilies on our dining room table (despite my efforts to stop her), and finally decided that she was most interested in the small bunny that clucked like a chicken. The reason I had her on the dining room table, was to take pictures. She was so cute in her new Easter dress…Roger calls in her “Gone with the Wind” dress. Originally, the idea was to take pictures of her outside in our garden, but a late season rain foiled those plans and I settled for our lilies inside the house as the backdrop, instead. Later, after a third change of clothes, we loaded her up, picked up our friend, Vickie, and drove up to Colfax in the pouring rain for a delicious dinner with friends. We ate too much, got home too late, and were way too exhausted, but we still got a few minutes after we put Kaelyn down to listen to the storm and enjoy a few moments with each other. All in all, another successful family holiday!
The rest of the weekend was also good. Originally, the rainy weather put me in a bad mood. We have been trying to finish up the fireplace in our backyard for several weeks now and it normally doesn’t rain too much in the spring here, so I’ve been cranky that after beautiful weather throughout the week, it always seems to rain on the weekends. But, there’s always a silver lining. Because we couldn’t work outside, we were able to get things done in the house, and spent a couple of hours together playing racquetball in the gym on Saturday. I’m not a racquetball player and was worried that playing with me would frustrate Roger. But, he’s rusty, and I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be so that kind of evened us out. Being out of shape doesn’t help, but we both got a decent workout anyway. Kaelyn seemed to do ok in the Kidz Club, so we decided that we will work out together more often. It was a lot of fun.
Other than that, there’s not too much exciting news to share. Kaelyn continues to awe and delight us every day. Right now, since she’s mastered rolling over, she is working hard on sitting up. She has always enjoyed being propped up on the couch and sitting in her Bumbo so I’ve been working with her to practice sitting on her own. I’m convinced she can do it. She steadily balances herself holding on to my fingers, but when she lets go she can’t keep her balance for more than a few seconds. For some reason, she doesn’t want to balance herself by placing her hands on the floor in front of her….she’d much rather just hold on to me. I keep reminding myself that even though she’s six months old, her adjusted age is just over 4 ½ months, so when she masters these skills according to her age, she’s actually ahead of schedule. Part of me is excited to see her grow, learn how to sit, and eventually crawl, but at the same time, I’ve very aware of how quickly this time passes and as she develops, keeping her safe will be more challenging. I won’t be able to sit her on the floor and know that she will stay there…already she scoots all over our family room. Crawling will just make it easier for her to get in trouble. Still, I can’t think of anything more rewarding than watching my child grow, learn, and discover the world around her. I am truly Blessed!
I’ll have to wait for that, because this year she acted like she does every other day. Waking up at 6:30, hungry and curious. She took a few moments later in the morning to examine her basket. She played with the Easter lilies on our dining room table (despite my efforts to stop her), and finally decided that she was most interested in the small bunny that clucked like a chicken. The reason I had her on the dining room table, was to take pictures. She was so cute in her new Easter dress…Roger calls in her “Gone with the Wind” dress. Originally, the idea was to take pictures of her outside in our garden, but a late season rain foiled those plans and I settled for our lilies inside the house as the backdrop, instead. Later, after a third change of clothes, we loaded her up, picked up our friend, Vickie, and drove up to Colfax in the pouring rain for a delicious dinner with friends. We ate too much, got home too late, and were way too exhausted, but we still got a few minutes after we put Kaelyn down to listen to the storm and enjoy a few moments with each other. All in all, another successful family holiday!
The rest of the weekend was also good. Originally, the rainy weather put me in a bad mood. We have been trying to finish up the fireplace in our backyard for several weeks now and it normally doesn’t rain too much in the spring here, so I’ve been cranky that after beautiful weather throughout the week, it always seems to rain on the weekends. But, there’s always a silver lining. Because we couldn’t work outside, we were able to get things done in the house, and spent a couple of hours together playing racquetball in the gym on Saturday. I’m not a racquetball player and was worried that playing with me would frustrate Roger. But, he’s rusty, and I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be so that kind of evened us out. Being out of shape doesn’t help, but we both got a decent workout anyway. Kaelyn seemed to do ok in the Kidz Club, so we decided that we will work out together more often. It was a lot of fun.
Other than that, there’s not too much exciting news to share. Kaelyn continues to awe and delight us every day. Right now, since she’s mastered rolling over, she is working hard on sitting up. She has always enjoyed being propped up on the couch and sitting in her Bumbo so I’ve been working with her to practice sitting on her own. I’m convinced she can do it. She steadily balances herself holding on to my fingers, but when she lets go she can’t keep her balance for more than a few seconds. For some reason, she doesn’t want to balance herself by placing her hands on the floor in front of her….she’d much rather just hold on to me. I keep reminding myself that even though she’s six months old, her adjusted age is just over 4 ½ months, so when she masters these skills according to her age, she’s actually ahead of schedule. Part of me is excited to see her grow, learn how to sit, and eventually crawl, but at the same time, I’ve very aware of how quickly this time passes and as she develops, keeping her safe will be more challenging. I won’t be able to sit her on the floor and know that she will stay there…already she scoots all over our family room. Crawling will just make it easier for her to get in trouble. Still, I can’t think of anything more rewarding than watching my child grow, learn, and discover the world around her. I am truly Blessed!
A little explanation of me…
I am an optimist. I know this surprises a lot of people, because I’m also a realist…and realism often gets confused with negativity. But, I’m really an optimist. For example, I think that something good comes out of every heartache. I believe in the good of human kind. I believe that on some level, everyone has good qualities, and that we all have the ability and the propensity to be compassionate and loving towards each other. I see examples of this everywhere I go. From the woman, a stranger, who shared her umbrella with me on the way to my car after work, to the monetary donations we will make to a friend, or even a stranger, who is going through a tough time. At the same time, the realist in me understands that we need to survive. And sometimes that survival instinct kicks in when it’s not necessary. We want to be successful in our careers. Make money. Be well liked. Be loved. And sometimes that drive causes us to do hurtful things. To be lazy. To lie. Cheat. Steal. So, while I believe that on some level everyone has the capacity to do good, and often do good, I know that we don’t always act that out. So, I don’t necessarily trust people…especially those I don’t know. I’m cautious and skeptical.
I’m outgoing and an extrovert. I get a rush from talking to people. I like being in crowds and feeding off that energy. But, I’m guarded in who I’ll be close to. I may have a two hour conversation with someone I just met, but at the end of that conversation, he or she will know very little about who I really am. It takes years sometimes for me to truly open up to someone and let them know me. I’m not ashamed of who I am…I’m actually proud. But, while I enjoy being in the midst of all the activity, I don’t necessarily enjoy being in the center of everything. I’m comfortable with public speaking. I even enjoy it. But, I’m not comfortable in giving speeches about myself. Any other subject and I’m the first to volunteer, but not when it comes to sharing my experiences. For that, I write.
I’m happy when people come to me for advice. It’s one of my gifts. To listen and interpret. Read between the lines and get to the core of a problem. I can give sound advice and my advice works. But, I take other peoples’ problems to heart and they become my own. After I listen to drama and help solve problems, I’m often exhausted and depressed. The extrovert in me goes into hiding and all I can do effectively is isolate myself and lose time in a good book. So, while I want to help people and will always do it, I don’t necessarily love it and often feel burdened by it.
At the same time, I’m slow to turn to others for advice. Admitting that I need help is hard for me. And besides the few people in my life who I trust enough to completely open up to, I won’t admit having problems to anyone. The ironic thing is, I think it’s healthy and good when people talk about their burdens, but I still won’t do it.
I like to read and lately, I’ve been reading blogs. I like reading about what people truly are going through, thinking, and feeling. People open up in writing in a way that just doesn’t happen in face to face conversation. I know that hiding behind my writing as I share my thoughts is much easier than standing up, vulnerable, and speaking them. But, since I started reading other blogs, I feel more and more inadequate in mine. I’m not dealing with repressed childhood angst. I haven’t lost a spouse, I’m not going through a divorce, my child is not sick, I have a secure and comfortable job. In other words, my lack of struggle makes me boring. This hasn’t always been the case. I’ve had hard times, difficulties at work and school. I’ve been through West Point and struggled. I’ve missed my family. Had my heart broken. Lost loved ones (too many, too soon). I’ve been to war. I could write about these things, and probably will scatter these experiences throughout my writing…but, I’m a survivor. I live in the present and try to enjoy it. The realist in me knows that things probably won’t always be so drama free…the optimist won’t dwell on that.
Roger says I can be complicated at times. And I’ve heard that from a lot of people. But really it’s simple. Yes, I’m the Skeptical Optimist. The Guarded Extrovert. The Reluctant Caretaker. The Writer who has nothing to say. But, I am also honest. I don’t pretend to be something that I’m not. I won’t tell you you’re a friend if I don’t consider you one. I won’t say I love you if I don’t. I may not be quick to volunteer my feelings, but ask me anything, and you’ll get a straightforward, honest answer.
Anyone who says that they are always happy, always optimistic, always hard working, always loves the world, is lying. These things aren’t black and white. I’m simple in my contradictions. My moods, my feelings, and my attitude are all dependant on my environment, on what is happening around me at the moment. I’m not a victim, but I’m also not impenetrable. Today, I’m happy, content, and in love. I like it this way.
I’m outgoing and an extrovert. I get a rush from talking to people. I like being in crowds and feeding off that energy. But, I’m guarded in who I’ll be close to. I may have a two hour conversation with someone I just met, but at the end of that conversation, he or she will know very little about who I really am. It takes years sometimes for me to truly open up to someone and let them know me. I’m not ashamed of who I am…I’m actually proud. But, while I enjoy being in the midst of all the activity, I don’t necessarily enjoy being in the center of everything. I’m comfortable with public speaking. I even enjoy it. But, I’m not comfortable in giving speeches about myself. Any other subject and I’m the first to volunteer, but not when it comes to sharing my experiences. For that, I write.
I’m happy when people come to me for advice. It’s one of my gifts. To listen and interpret. Read between the lines and get to the core of a problem. I can give sound advice and my advice works. But, I take other peoples’ problems to heart and they become my own. After I listen to drama and help solve problems, I’m often exhausted and depressed. The extrovert in me goes into hiding and all I can do effectively is isolate myself and lose time in a good book. So, while I want to help people and will always do it, I don’t necessarily love it and often feel burdened by it.
At the same time, I’m slow to turn to others for advice. Admitting that I need help is hard for me. And besides the few people in my life who I trust enough to completely open up to, I won’t admit having problems to anyone. The ironic thing is, I think it’s healthy and good when people talk about their burdens, but I still won’t do it.
I like to read and lately, I’ve been reading blogs. I like reading about what people truly are going through, thinking, and feeling. People open up in writing in a way that just doesn’t happen in face to face conversation. I know that hiding behind my writing as I share my thoughts is much easier than standing up, vulnerable, and speaking them. But, since I started reading other blogs, I feel more and more inadequate in mine. I’m not dealing with repressed childhood angst. I haven’t lost a spouse, I’m not going through a divorce, my child is not sick, I have a secure and comfortable job. In other words, my lack of struggle makes me boring. This hasn’t always been the case. I’ve had hard times, difficulties at work and school. I’ve been through West Point and struggled. I’ve missed my family. Had my heart broken. Lost loved ones (too many, too soon). I’ve been to war. I could write about these things, and probably will scatter these experiences throughout my writing…but, I’m a survivor. I live in the present and try to enjoy it. The realist in me knows that things probably won’t always be so drama free…the optimist won’t dwell on that.
Roger says I can be complicated at times. And I’ve heard that from a lot of people. But really it’s simple. Yes, I’m the Skeptical Optimist. The Guarded Extrovert. The Reluctant Caretaker. The Writer who has nothing to say. But, I am also honest. I don’t pretend to be something that I’m not. I won’t tell you you’re a friend if I don’t consider you one. I won’t say I love you if I don’t. I may not be quick to volunteer my feelings, but ask me anything, and you’ll get a straightforward, honest answer.
Anyone who says that they are always happy, always optimistic, always hard working, always loves the world, is lying. These things aren’t black and white. I’m simple in my contradictions. My moods, my feelings, and my attitude are all dependant on my environment, on what is happening around me at the moment. I’m not a victim, but I’m also not impenetrable. Today, I’m happy, content, and in love. I like it this way.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Jealousy
Roger is a good dad...more accurately, he's a great dad. When we found out we were going to have a baby, he was excited. He told me that he could be the kind of dad he wanted to be when he was younger. It's easy to see how much he loves his kids. He would do anything for them...but it's also easy to see that he wishes that work and relationship circumstances hadn't prevented him from spending more time with them.
When he told me that he wanted to make up for it with this child, I pictured that he would spend weekends teaching her to pitch and hit a softball. That he would never miss a sporting event or school play. That he would spend every night with her at the dinner table patiently answering her questions and listening to her talk about her day.
I still expect all those things. But, what I really got is so much more. When I was pregnant I encouraged Roger to experience things with me. I wanted him to feel her kick. I excitedely told him everything I found out about her heartrate, her size, and the little flips I watched her do in my tummy. After she was born, I encouraged him to hold her, give her a bottle and give her a bath. I wanted to make sure their bond would be strong. But, I didn't need to do those things. Roger, in his greatness, has developed a bond with her stronger than any two I've ever known.
I remember the morning, late in my pregnancy, when I woke up to her kicking me hard. I wanted Roger to feel it too. But he was still sleeping...something unusual for him. I let him sleep and instead went to her nursery. Roger had stayed up all night finishing it. He had put all the furniture together, arranged it, painted and hung chair rail. He put his heart and soul into getting that room ready for me to decorate. But what really took me aback was something else. On a shelf, he had arranged, with a some blocks we had gotten as a gift, the name KAELYN. We hadn't decided on her name yet. We didn't talk much about names at all. Yet, he had thought about it. He had already named her. She was his Kaelyn and he built that room for her. I realized then that people are wrong when they say that men become dads when their children are born. Roger was already her dad.
After she was born, when she was in the NICU, Roger would stay with her all night long. So that she would never be without one of us. The nurses told me he would sing to her and rock her. They would tell me how heartwarming it was to see him with her. I longed to see it too, but when we were both with her, Roger would insist that I be the one to hold her.
We made some career decisions after we brought her home. We both knew that we wanted to spend more time together as a family. But we also wanted to uphold the same quality of life we did when we were dual income with no kids. We both quit our jobs. I got a higher paying job with better benefits and more time off. Roger started his own business. And because of that, he gets to spend two to three days a week with her during the day.
Roger has learned everything there is to know about Kaelyn. He interprets every cry and babble. He can soothe her just by looking at her a certain way. He knows when she naps, when she wakes, what toy she wants to play with. Her face lights up so huge everytime he walks into a room.
One night, for some reason, Kaelyn would not sleep for longer than 15 minutes. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to settle down. I was near tears with frustration and exhaustion. Roger came to me and told me to try to get some rest....to let him try. Reluctantly, I handed her over and went to bed. I woke up four hours later...confused and panicked. Roger was not in bed and Kaelyn was not in her room. I found them both in the family room. Roger sleeping, sitting up, on the couch and Kaelyn, asleep draped over his chest. He soothed her. She was happy and comfortable and safe.
This makes me jealous. Roger is a better parent than me. He has the instinct I lack. He has the unbreakable bond I want. It's not fair. I'm the one that carried her for roughly 7 1/2 months (would that extra five weeks have made a difference?). I went through the pains of labor. I gave up my body for her. I tirelessly researched to make sure that I was prepared for her. I'm the one that knows her diaper size, obsesses about her weight, tells Roger, every time, what brand of formula we buy for her. I'm the one that cried every time I came home without her after she was born. I'm her mother, and I'm supposed to be the "better" parent.
Yes, Kaelyn and I are close. She smiles and squeals with delight when I come home from work and rush to see her...to smother her with my kisses. She watches me when I leave the room and sometimes even sticks her lower lip out as she watches me go. I was the first one that figured out how to make her laugh, and my funny faces and funny voices still get the best response. But, when it's all said and done, it's her Dad that she treasures most. I see the toddler Kaelyn, the teenager, and the adult Kaelyn, and in all those pictures, it's her father that she adores...and who adores her.
My jealousy makes me feel guilty. This is what I wanted. To have a child with a man that would love her. My husband is a wonderful dad. They have developed the bond that I encouraged from the very beginning. Kaelyn and I are blessed to have Roger. And even though I'm envious at what he does so much better than me...I wouldn't have it any other way.
When he told me that he wanted to make up for it with this child, I pictured that he would spend weekends teaching her to pitch and hit a softball. That he would never miss a sporting event or school play. That he would spend every night with her at the dinner table patiently answering her questions and listening to her talk about her day.
I still expect all those things. But, what I really got is so much more. When I was pregnant I encouraged Roger to experience things with me. I wanted him to feel her kick. I excitedely told him everything I found out about her heartrate, her size, and the little flips I watched her do in my tummy. After she was born, I encouraged him to hold her, give her a bottle and give her a bath. I wanted to make sure their bond would be strong. But, I didn't need to do those things. Roger, in his greatness, has developed a bond with her stronger than any two I've ever known.
I remember the morning, late in my pregnancy, when I woke up to her kicking me hard. I wanted Roger to feel it too. But he was still sleeping...something unusual for him. I let him sleep and instead went to her nursery. Roger had stayed up all night finishing it. He had put all the furniture together, arranged it, painted and hung chair rail. He put his heart and soul into getting that room ready for me to decorate. But what really took me aback was something else. On a shelf, he had arranged, with a some blocks we had gotten as a gift, the name KAELYN. We hadn't decided on her name yet. We didn't talk much about names at all. Yet, he had thought about it. He had already named her. She was his Kaelyn and he built that room for her. I realized then that people are wrong when they say that men become dads when their children are born. Roger was already her dad.
After she was born, when she was in the NICU, Roger would stay with her all night long. So that she would never be without one of us. The nurses told me he would sing to her and rock her. They would tell me how heartwarming it was to see him with her. I longed to see it too, but when we were both with her, Roger would insist that I be the one to hold her.
We made some career decisions after we brought her home. We both knew that we wanted to spend more time together as a family. But we also wanted to uphold the same quality of life we did when we were dual income with no kids. We both quit our jobs. I got a higher paying job with better benefits and more time off. Roger started his own business. And because of that, he gets to spend two to three days a week with her during the day.
Roger has learned everything there is to know about Kaelyn. He interprets every cry and babble. He can soothe her just by looking at her a certain way. He knows when she naps, when she wakes, what toy she wants to play with. Her face lights up so huge everytime he walks into a room.
One night, for some reason, Kaelyn would not sleep for longer than 15 minutes. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to settle down. I was near tears with frustration and exhaustion. Roger came to me and told me to try to get some rest....to let him try. Reluctantly, I handed her over and went to bed. I woke up four hours later...confused and panicked. Roger was not in bed and Kaelyn was not in her room. I found them both in the family room. Roger sleeping, sitting up, on the couch and Kaelyn, asleep draped over his chest. He soothed her. She was happy and comfortable and safe.
This makes me jealous. Roger is a better parent than me. He has the instinct I lack. He has the unbreakable bond I want. It's not fair. I'm the one that carried her for roughly 7 1/2 months (would that extra five weeks have made a difference?). I went through the pains of labor. I gave up my body for her. I tirelessly researched to make sure that I was prepared for her. I'm the one that knows her diaper size, obsesses about her weight, tells Roger, every time, what brand of formula we buy for her. I'm the one that cried every time I came home without her after she was born. I'm her mother, and I'm supposed to be the "better" parent.
Yes, Kaelyn and I are close. She smiles and squeals with delight when I come home from work and rush to see her...to smother her with my kisses. She watches me when I leave the room and sometimes even sticks her lower lip out as she watches me go. I was the first one that figured out how to make her laugh, and my funny faces and funny voices still get the best response. But, when it's all said and done, it's her Dad that she treasures most. I see the toddler Kaelyn, the teenager, and the adult Kaelyn, and in all those pictures, it's her father that she adores...and who adores her.
My jealousy makes me feel guilty. This is what I wanted. To have a child with a man that would love her. My husband is a wonderful dad. They have developed the bond that I encouraged from the very beginning. Kaelyn and I are blessed to have Roger. And even though I'm envious at what he does so much better than me...I wouldn't have it any other way.
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