This morning was a tiny glimpse at the changes to come in our household for the next few months. I started my internship this morning and my hubby took a half day off work to stay home with the kids. I LOVE the school and the library staff. First impressions are great! Plus, I ran into a friend I used to work with who is now working there--an added bonus.
I did very little for the first day but I really loved every minute of it. The librarian gave me the lay of the land, basic new info. and materials. Then, I went to work unloading a book order and shelving with a little cataloging review. Since school isn't in session and this is a very new media center, there are many boxes of books to be processed. It's rather mindless work but I was able to meet the staff and have uninterrupted adult conversations. And the rhythm of processing and shelving books has always been therapeutic for me. It sounds odd, I know. There is just something about the simplicity and the quiet nature of the task that helps me collect my thoughts. So, I was happy as a clam this morning. I was just grinning and bouncing through the door when I came home.
My poor husband was running around like a mad man saying he still had to shower before he left for work. He was supposed to leave in 5 minutes. Both the kids were just in their diapers because of the mess they had made at lunch. Of course they were hollering at each other trying to see who could be louder...a really fun game they have going now. I couldn't help laughing because it was such a role reversal and those kids didn't show their dad any special treatment. Everything was just as normal as usual. The only difference was my absence. Instead of being the frazzled one, I was treated like an adult and had conversations that didn't deal with bodily functions, constant reminders to share and not wrestle, tackle, bite, pull or push your sibling, and even a clean shirt! Well, someone did pee on me as soon as I came through the door and picked them up. But, I still think it was a record.
I know I don't want to go back to work full-time if it can be helped. I would miss them terribly. These early years go by so quickly and I have the rest of my life to work. However, a part-time mental vacation TO work does sound like a pretty awesome idea. Cheers, mommas! And, husband, you are the best. I have so much fun sharing our life together and I really do feel like we are truly a team, especially on days like today!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Little Man is 1
Every parent I know says how quickly their kids grow. It certainly doesn't feel that way when you are in the day-to-day routine. Yet, there are moments as parents where you get to sit back and appreciate major milestones. Yesterday was one of those days for my family. It was a beautiful birthday shared with friends and family via Skype.
Of course, I had tears here and there preparing for his party and feeling grateful. However, it wasn't until all the excitement died down and the kids were in bed that the gravity of this milestone sank in for us. Little man is one. I didn't even know how much anxiety and fear I had been holding in until the tears of relief and joy overcame me. It's normal and easy to take for granted your health and your children's health until you've experienced a situation that reminded you how little control you actually have.
There were no warnings. I had an easy pregnancy with Ryan. I was in good health, no complications or concerns about anything. He was delivered by c-section after being a week overdue. He appeared by all accounts to be perfectly healthy. When I first saw him, I had a feeling something was wrong and asked a few times but everyone around me said he was fine and everything was perfect. That first night I needed to get some rest and I instinctively thought he should go to the nursery. It is highly unusual for me. I was upset when they took Isabelle away for an hour or two one night. I don't know what was telling me to make sure he was supervised. But, again, I'm grateful. The next day Ryan turned blue in my arms and was unresponsive. I buzzed the nurses and they immediately and literally ran in and grabbed him, sprinting down the hallway to the NICU. It was just John and I in the room. We were too scared to speak for a minute, just silence and panting. Everything changed in that moment.
The next time I saw Ryan was a few hours later when they determined he was stable and hooked up to more wires and machines than any child should ever need. I don't wish to relive the entire experience today so the most simple way I could explain is that I felt like I was living outside my body for Ryan's hospital stay. There was so much fear and pain that I had to block that out and focus on giving Ryan what he needed. He needed as much love, positivity, and snuggling that was possible as well as a mom who would fight for him when he needed a voice. I can tell you in the next two weeks, we met and talked to dozens of neonatalogists and specialists, none of which could offer a diagnosis or much of an explanation. It took them over a week to even figure out his episodes were indeed seizures. His neurologist has been a blessing in our lives and single-handedly responsible for my ability to sleep at all when Ryan did come home. There hasn't been a diagnosis in Ryan's condition. We managed the seizures with medication and weaned him off early. He's been seizure-free since he left the hospital. And, he has now reached the biggest milestone in his brain's development.
Above and beyond all the challenges Ryan faced as an infant, he is a joyful and loving soul. He gives warm hugs and laughs when you kiss him. He is clever and handsome. Plus, he and his sister are as close as any siblings I've ever seen. We have been continually surprised by our little man and our lives have been enriched as his parents. My heart and prayers go out to the families who have children enter intensive care each day. The families and infants I met during his stay will always hold a special place in my heart. May you all be blessed with the love of your children and they with yours.
Of course, I had tears here and there preparing for his party and feeling grateful. However, it wasn't until all the excitement died down and the kids were in bed that the gravity of this milestone sank in for us. Little man is one. I didn't even know how much anxiety and fear I had been holding in until the tears of relief and joy overcame me. It's normal and easy to take for granted your health and your children's health until you've experienced a situation that reminded you how little control you actually have.
There were no warnings. I had an easy pregnancy with Ryan. I was in good health, no complications or concerns about anything. He was delivered by c-section after being a week overdue. He appeared by all accounts to be perfectly healthy. When I first saw him, I had a feeling something was wrong and asked a few times but everyone around me said he was fine and everything was perfect. That first night I needed to get some rest and I instinctively thought he should go to the nursery. It is highly unusual for me. I was upset when they took Isabelle away for an hour or two one night. I don't know what was telling me to make sure he was supervised. But, again, I'm grateful. The next day Ryan turned blue in my arms and was unresponsive. I buzzed the nurses and they immediately and literally ran in and grabbed him, sprinting down the hallway to the NICU. It was just John and I in the room. We were too scared to speak for a minute, just silence and panting. Everything changed in that moment.
The next time I saw Ryan was a few hours later when they determined he was stable and hooked up to more wires and machines than any child should ever need. I don't wish to relive the entire experience today so the most simple way I could explain is that I felt like I was living outside my body for Ryan's hospital stay. There was so much fear and pain that I had to block that out and focus on giving Ryan what he needed. He needed as much love, positivity, and snuggling that was possible as well as a mom who would fight for him when he needed a voice. I can tell you in the next two weeks, we met and talked to dozens of neonatalogists and specialists, none of which could offer a diagnosis or much of an explanation. It took them over a week to even figure out his episodes were indeed seizures. His neurologist has been a blessing in our lives and single-handedly responsible for my ability to sleep at all when Ryan did come home. There hasn't been a diagnosis in Ryan's condition. We managed the seizures with medication and weaned him off early. He's been seizure-free since he left the hospital. And, he has now reached the biggest milestone in his brain's development.
Above and beyond all the challenges Ryan faced as an infant, he is a joyful and loving soul. He gives warm hugs and laughs when you kiss him. He is clever and handsome. Plus, he and his sister are as close as any siblings I've ever seen. We have been continually surprised by our little man and our lives have been enriched as his parents. My heart and prayers go out to the families who have children enter intensive care each day. The families and infants I met during his stay will always hold a special place in my heart. May you all be blessed with the love of your children and they with yours.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The first 5
The scale actually works. I was beginning to think it was stuck. Five pounds down. I've made some attempts to lose the "baby weight" but I've petered out or let myself miss workouts and made poor decisions based on my schedule, etc. Not this time.
I had started working out and losing weight after Isabelle was born and found out I was pregnant again when she was 3 months old. I kept it up for a little while but the gym closed and the pregnancy fatigue set in. So, I never really lost the baby weight I gained with Isabelle and was pregnant again. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to give into my cravings for spicy food or fast food when I was too tired to cook. Between breastfeeding one infant and being pregnant, I was busy and exercising was far from my mind. Then, I had Ryan and that was an unbelievably tough time and I was going through it while taking my graduate classes. Then, the car accident, his baptism, the holidays, more time intensive classes, and before I knew it, we were on summer vacation. Now, he is turning one. On vacation, I felt more comfortable in my maternity swimming suit than my post-pregnancy one. It was part of the wake up call.
Another factor is my PCOS has not been managed as well as it could which can lead to more serious health problems down the road. People also seem to treat and look at you differently when you are carrying excess weight than when you are simply pregnant. It's as if when you have the watermelon belly of pregnancy, everyone wants to touch it and say how cute you look. So, then the baby is delivered and magically your belly is supposed to melt away. Whatever. Now, you are just fat with too much belly weight. Next, I want to be comfortable in my own skin again. I've never been thin but I have been athletic and curvy. That's all I want. Finally, I'm now showing my children how to live. I can give them all the fruits and vegetables and healthy food in the world but it doesn't mean as much as eating it with them. Modeling behavior and demonstrating good choices have always been hands-down the best way to teach children.
I had to come up with a plan that I thought would work. I realized that for the past couple years, I've made my schedule based on the needs of everyone else in the family. It's to be expected with infants. I was lucky to go to the store alone, much less make a regular commitment to exercise. I'd tried the 5 am gym time and that is just stupid. I was nodding off watching the kids in the afternoon. Plus, I was losing one of the best benefits of staying home with the kids...sleeping in until they woke up. I have many years of working, getting up, doing my hair and getting everyone out the door in my future. Right now, I enjoy my baby girl coming in and crawling into bed with me to chatter and sing until Ryan wakes up. It's just one of those sweet times I'll remember when she is grown. And, as parents, you need to make sure you enjoy the journey, not just the milestones.
So, I just ended up saying I need to work out at least every other day and I'm going to make it happen. John said he'd help me get out the door so that I could go when he came home from work. It's been successful. I feed the kids and make sure there are leftovers for him and I have a light dinner when I come home or we just go with the flow and eat together when I get home. Ideally, I'd love to have a family dinner every night. However, I'm home with them all day and John only gets 1.5 hours a day with them so now he has his own fun times. He has introduced techno chicken and Isabelle has "helped" him with a project by walking behind him measuring everything with a tape measure. And, I am much happier. I can't tell you how great it is to have an hour of solace without anyone fussing, pulling on me, needing to be changed or fed. I can now watch the evening news in peace. I want to continue solely for that reason!
The good news is regular cardio, bi-weekly weights, and healthier, smaller meals seems to be working. Three weeks on the new program and five pounds lost. My 30th birthday is next May and my goal is to look fabulous. I have 10 months to go. I believe it is realistic to say I want to lose 5 pounds per month for a grand total of 50 lbs. As my baby girls says, "go, set, go!"
I had started working out and losing weight after Isabelle was born and found out I was pregnant again when she was 3 months old. I kept it up for a little while but the gym closed and the pregnancy fatigue set in. So, I never really lost the baby weight I gained with Isabelle and was pregnant again. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to give into my cravings for spicy food or fast food when I was too tired to cook. Between breastfeeding one infant and being pregnant, I was busy and exercising was far from my mind. Then, I had Ryan and that was an unbelievably tough time and I was going through it while taking my graduate classes. Then, the car accident, his baptism, the holidays, more time intensive classes, and before I knew it, we were on summer vacation. Now, he is turning one. On vacation, I felt more comfortable in my maternity swimming suit than my post-pregnancy one. It was part of the wake up call.
Another factor is my PCOS has not been managed as well as it could which can lead to more serious health problems down the road. People also seem to treat and look at you differently when you are carrying excess weight than when you are simply pregnant. It's as if when you have the watermelon belly of pregnancy, everyone wants to touch it and say how cute you look. So, then the baby is delivered and magically your belly is supposed to melt away. Whatever. Now, you are just fat with too much belly weight. Next, I want to be comfortable in my own skin again. I've never been thin but I have been athletic and curvy. That's all I want. Finally, I'm now showing my children how to live. I can give them all the fruits and vegetables and healthy food in the world but it doesn't mean as much as eating it with them. Modeling behavior and demonstrating good choices have always been hands-down the best way to teach children.
I had to come up with a plan that I thought would work. I realized that for the past couple years, I've made my schedule based on the needs of everyone else in the family. It's to be expected with infants. I was lucky to go to the store alone, much less make a regular commitment to exercise. I'd tried the 5 am gym time and that is just stupid. I was nodding off watching the kids in the afternoon. Plus, I was losing one of the best benefits of staying home with the kids...sleeping in until they woke up. I have many years of working, getting up, doing my hair and getting everyone out the door in my future. Right now, I enjoy my baby girl coming in and crawling into bed with me to chatter and sing until Ryan wakes up. It's just one of those sweet times I'll remember when she is grown. And, as parents, you need to make sure you enjoy the journey, not just the milestones.
So, I just ended up saying I need to work out at least every other day and I'm going to make it happen. John said he'd help me get out the door so that I could go when he came home from work. It's been successful. I feed the kids and make sure there are leftovers for him and I have a light dinner when I come home or we just go with the flow and eat together when I get home. Ideally, I'd love to have a family dinner every night. However, I'm home with them all day and John only gets 1.5 hours a day with them so now he has his own fun times. He has introduced techno chicken and Isabelle has "helped" him with a project by walking behind him measuring everything with a tape measure. And, I am much happier. I can't tell you how great it is to have an hour of solace without anyone fussing, pulling on me, needing to be changed or fed. I can now watch the evening news in peace. I want to continue solely for that reason!
The good news is regular cardio, bi-weekly weights, and healthier, smaller meals seems to be working. Three weeks on the new program and five pounds lost. My 30th birthday is next May and my goal is to look fabulous. I have 10 months to go. I believe it is realistic to say I want to lose 5 pounds per month for a grand total of 50 lbs. As my baby girls says, "go, set, go!"
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The day I became a Momma
I've noticed that as time passes, I start to forget details about many moments in motherhood. It's natural but I wanted to take a moment to document my experience becoming a mother. I was thrilled to be pregnant with Isabelle! It was a long, difficult road just to become pregnant. When I found out, I was shocked and so nervous to do anything for the entire pregnancy. I wouldn't even let myself have soda or cold meats or allergy meds. To compound my neurosis, Isabelle had an irregular heartbeat so I had many, many appointments and ultrasounds so the doctors could monitor her. I loved being able to see her so often and it helped calm my nerves that my doctors were so diligent. We wanted to be surprised about the sex of the baby so that was a chore for all the doctors and specialists to keep it a secret. As you can guess, the irregular heartbeat made the pregnancy higher-risk. So, near the end, my blood pressure was very high for me. They told me to stop working and get off my feet. Of course, my blood pressure was great after that!
My sister came to stay with us near my due date and I became violently ill. It was awful and my poor sister had to hang out when I couldn't hold any food down and couldn't do anything. Then, there was the false alarm where John and I went to the hospital and they sent us home. I had Braxton-Hicks contractions throughout the 2nd-3rd trimesters and when you've never been in labor before you have no idea what to expect. But, you do feel like an idiot when they send you home from the hospital and you are overdue. My doctors allowed me to go two weeks beyond my due date because of Isabelle's heartbeat and because I wanted to have the "natural" experience. HA! On my last appointment, Isabelle's heartbeat was normal. Her heart had healed/finished growing in the irregular valve. We were also told that the baby was going to be larger than 10 pounds. I got dizzy and had to sit down on the way out. I believe John laughed or maybe he didn't have to for me to have some choice words.
The next morning, a nurse called and said to come to the hospital to be induced. I will never forget that car ride. You know your life is going to change in a way you can't truly imagine. I will also never forget the car ride to my wedding for the same reason. We arrived at the hospital, checked in and went to our birthing suite. We had our cards and some movies (Scarface...he he). We were giggly and excited and scared. They started me on pitocin and the contractions began. We had fun playing cards for awhile and the nurses kept increasing the dosage until I could no longer concentrate on anything but the pain. At one point, I snapped at John and said, "women who want to do this naturally and f*&%ing crazy." Not my finest moment but it sure made him laugh. I didn't want to be immobile for the labor so we did all the suggested walking, ball squats, shower, etc. and I delayed the epidural. After several hours, I was told that I was on the maximum dose of pitocin and with the contractions as intense and close together that I should be full dilated. That's when I knew it was ok to ask for the pain doctor. I knew if I waited too long, I may not get him. Plus, the doctors thought if I had some pain relief maybe I would make more progress.
The anesthesiologist was horrible. The drugs were great but he was not. By then, we were in the late night shift. He had my nurse answer his cell phone while he was putting the needle in my back and she held it up to his ear so he could talk. The nurse was supposed to be helping me through the horrible contraction I was having and keeping me still. Instead she was helping the doctor with his phone call. And, it's a little hazy but I'm pretty sure we were appalled about his conversation. He had messed up the dosage with another patient and now he has a needle in my back. Thankfully, he didn't paralyze me. Soon after the shot, my arms started to go numb so they were constantly adjusting the dosage and at one point turned it off completely. I had been in labor for about 14 hours when I told John to go get a "real" meal and I would try to rest. The doctors had already switched shifts and when she came in to talk to me John was gone. We had been told because of the size of the baby, they may have to break her collarbone to get her out. John and I were very worried about that possible outcome. And, if the labor didn't progress the baby may simply be too big and then we could have an emergency situation. My doctor said that she couldn't continue with the pitocin at that level for much longer and I wasn't progressing so she believed it was time to go forward with a c-section. I agreed and the pitocin was ordered to be turned off (it wasn't but the epidural was). They paged John and started to wheel me out of the room and I started vomiting. I was terribly nervous and they make you drink a horrible liquid to keep you from vomiting and choking during the surgery.
John returned not having heard the page but in time to be dressed for the operating room. I kept telling the nurse that I was feeling the contractions strongly but there was some apparent confusion between her and the anesthesiologist. Anyways, they separated John and I so they could prep for the section. Being strapped down to the table was a horrible, powerless feeling and I was still contracting. My doctor figured out right away when she came into the operating room that something was off. My nurse was reprimanded and excused. John came in and held my hand like he did during our wedding. He's my rock. The surgery began and the pain was unbelievable. I let out a guttural scream and John says my eyes rolled back in my head. I was given a heavy dose of valium immediately and the surgery waited until I passed some more pain tests. Finally, I felt her be lifted out and I heard her strong cry. The most beautiful cry in the world and I was so relieved and happy. My tears were the definition of tears of joy. There was a consensus that she had quite a pair of lungs on her and she still does!
John was able to see her bathed and measured. He brought her to me and she had the most beautiful, tiny pink face. She was perfect. Everyone was commenting on how big a baby she was but to me she looked like the tiniest person I'd ever seen. There was meconium in the waters so she was taken to the nursery for a bit and had some tests while I went to recovery. If you have never had a baby, let me warn you that after the birth the nurses will push down on your uterus every 15 minutes for an hour to an hour and a half to help it go back where it belongs. Be prepared. If your nurse isn't good, it hurts like you can't believe. I've gone through it twice and the second time it was no big deal. But after Isabelle's birth, I was ready to hurt that nurse if she touched me again.
I was taken to my hospital room and about 2-3 hours after I had Isabelle, I was able to hold her for the first time. It was somewhere around 5 am and I couldn't stop staring at her. I wouldn't let her sleep in the nursery. I didn't care how tired I was. I wouldn't let her out of my sight. To this day, I am in awe of the fact that she is actually my daughter. I did wonder after a few months when her parents were going to come get her because it was an exhausting babysitting job. It took awhile to completely comprehend that I am her momma and it's on me to care for her and be there for her forever. I'm honored to have the best job in the world.
Isabelle Erin, 6/24/2008, 9 lbs. 8oz.
My sister came to stay with us near my due date and I became violently ill. It was awful and my poor sister had to hang out when I couldn't hold any food down and couldn't do anything. Then, there was the false alarm where John and I went to the hospital and they sent us home. I had Braxton-Hicks contractions throughout the 2nd-3rd trimesters and when you've never been in labor before you have no idea what to expect. But, you do feel like an idiot when they send you home from the hospital and you are overdue. My doctors allowed me to go two weeks beyond my due date because of Isabelle's heartbeat and because I wanted to have the "natural" experience. HA! On my last appointment, Isabelle's heartbeat was normal. Her heart had healed/finished growing in the irregular valve. We were also told that the baby was going to be larger than 10 pounds. I got dizzy and had to sit down on the way out. I believe John laughed or maybe he didn't have to for me to have some choice words.
The next morning, a nurse called and said to come to the hospital to be induced. I will never forget that car ride. You know your life is going to change in a way you can't truly imagine. I will also never forget the car ride to my wedding for the same reason. We arrived at the hospital, checked in and went to our birthing suite. We had our cards and some movies (Scarface...he he). We were giggly and excited and scared. They started me on pitocin and the contractions began. We had fun playing cards for awhile and the nurses kept increasing the dosage until I could no longer concentrate on anything but the pain. At one point, I snapped at John and said, "women who want to do this naturally and f*&%ing crazy." Not my finest moment but it sure made him laugh. I didn't want to be immobile for the labor so we did all the suggested walking, ball squats, shower, etc. and I delayed the epidural. After several hours, I was told that I was on the maximum dose of pitocin and with the contractions as intense and close together that I should be full dilated. That's when I knew it was ok to ask for the pain doctor. I knew if I waited too long, I may not get him. Plus, the doctors thought if I had some pain relief maybe I would make more progress.
The anesthesiologist was horrible. The drugs were great but he was not. By then, we were in the late night shift. He had my nurse answer his cell phone while he was putting the needle in my back and she held it up to his ear so he could talk. The nurse was supposed to be helping me through the horrible contraction I was having and keeping me still. Instead she was helping the doctor with his phone call. And, it's a little hazy but I'm pretty sure we were appalled about his conversation. He had messed up the dosage with another patient and now he has a needle in my back. Thankfully, he didn't paralyze me. Soon after the shot, my arms started to go numb so they were constantly adjusting the dosage and at one point turned it off completely. I had been in labor for about 14 hours when I told John to go get a "real" meal and I would try to rest. The doctors had already switched shifts and when she came in to talk to me John was gone. We had been told because of the size of the baby, they may have to break her collarbone to get her out. John and I were very worried about that possible outcome. And, if the labor didn't progress the baby may simply be too big and then we could have an emergency situation. My doctor said that she couldn't continue with the pitocin at that level for much longer and I wasn't progressing so she believed it was time to go forward with a c-section. I agreed and the pitocin was ordered to be turned off (it wasn't but the epidural was). They paged John and started to wheel me out of the room and I started vomiting. I was terribly nervous and they make you drink a horrible liquid to keep you from vomiting and choking during the surgery.
John returned not having heard the page but in time to be dressed for the operating room. I kept telling the nurse that I was feeling the contractions strongly but there was some apparent confusion between her and the anesthesiologist. Anyways, they separated John and I so they could prep for the section. Being strapped down to the table was a horrible, powerless feeling and I was still contracting. My doctor figured out right away when she came into the operating room that something was off. My nurse was reprimanded and excused. John came in and held my hand like he did during our wedding. He's my rock. The surgery began and the pain was unbelievable. I let out a guttural scream and John says my eyes rolled back in my head. I was given a heavy dose of valium immediately and the surgery waited until I passed some more pain tests. Finally, I felt her be lifted out and I heard her strong cry. The most beautiful cry in the world and I was so relieved and happy. My tears were the definition of tears of joy. There was a consensus that she had quite a pair of lungs on her and she still does!
John was able to see her bathed and measured. He brought her to me and she had the most beautiful, tiny pink face. She was perfect. Everyone was commenting on how big a baby she was but to me she looked like the tiniest person I'd ever seen. There was meconium in the waters so she was taken to the nursery for a bit and had some tests while I went to recovery. If you have never had a baby, let me warn you that after the birth the nurses will push down on your uterus every 15 minutes for an hour to an hour and a half to help it go back where it belongs. Be prepared. If your nurse isn't good, it hurts like you can't believe. I've gone through it twice and the second time it was no big deal. But after Isabelle's birth, I was ready to hurt that nurse if she touched me again.
I was taken to my hospital room and about 2-3 hours after I had Isabelle, I was able to hold her for the first time. It was somewhere around 5 am and I couldn't stop staring at her. I wouldn't let her sleep in the nursery. I didn't care how tired I was. I wouldn't let her out of my sight. To this day, I am in awe of the fact that she is actually my daughter. I did wonder after a few months when her parents were going to come get her because it was an exhausting babysitting job. It took awhile to completely comprehend that I am her momma and it's on me to care for her and be there for her forever. I'm honored to have the best job in the world.
Isabelle Erin, 6/24/2008, 9 lbs. 8oz.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Crossroads
I have been so blessed to be able to stay home with Isabelle and Ryan. I know there are many people who never get a choice. I'm approaching a crossroads where I have to decide what I am going to do when I graduate in December. I love being with the kids. I love sharing their days and being able to watch them grow as well as being very attuned to their needs and changes. And, I'll be honest, I don't trust day care workers to care for my children like I could. I do feel more at ease with them being older and capable to communicate how they spent their day and voice any potential concerns. With that said, there are beautiful, wonderful people in the centers and I value the social and educational value for children who are ready.
I love being with the kids but I am also eager to start my career. I feel like it has been such a long road just getting to the starting point and I don't want to miss the opportunity to start as I did with journalism. When I graduated with a journalism degree, I needed to move with the job and keep writing in order to keep my clips current. Well, I was engaged to get married in 3 months and my husband was still working and finishing his degree. Moving wasn't in the cards at the time. Plus, I lived in a small town which was over-saturated with journalists. I took a job as a bilingual customer service rep. for a company where I could use my French degree speaking to Canadians. It was awful. I sat in a cubicle listening to people complain all day. It didn't matter what language they spoke. I tried selling furniture and worked my way up to managing a small furniture store. Good money but also not satisfying. I remember talking to my mom and I still think of her sage advice, "figure out how you want to spend your day and then find a way to get paid for it." I figured I wanted to spend my day helping kids learn. I knew that was satisfying. It was helping others in a positive manner without taking on a lot of negative energy.
In 2005, I started substitute teaching. I also had a summer school job with my own classroom of K-3 students who were struggling to move to the next grade level and also had tough economic and social/family struggles. I've never had such a wonderful experience. I taught a boy to read who was resistant and had a speech impediment. Each of my students left with more self-confidence. And, the class tested as the most improved in the academy from their pre- and post-assessments. I was hooked. I wanted to be a teacher. I found that I had to go back to school and I might as well get a master's degree with the amount of coursework I'd have to take for a teaching license. At this point, my husband was graduating and itching to leave MO. He knew the area was limiting and certainly not large enough for him to breathe on his own. So, we literally took out a U.S. map and started eliminating areas and states. My only requirement was that there had to be a decent college nearby for teaching. His focus was on getting an IT position.
He graduated in December. Again, my wise mom said, "maybe you should visit the city before you move there." Sure did. Visited in January, signed a lease and moved in on Valentine's Day. I think she was attempting to help us slow down and evaluate our decision but instead we just jumped right in. Here we are. Halfway between the beach and the mountains. No more than 3 cold months a year. Plenty of college choices and the best IT center for jobs in the country. Granted, we never advertised all the motivations for our move or that neither of us had a job lined up when we drove across the country. But, we both took turns at temp positions and I worked a couple jobs for awhile. John landed a fantastic job with a great company and he has felt at home ever since. I met a wonderful lady, Vicki, who helped me realize how library science allowed me to use some of my journalism skills while also teaching. Three years of graduate school. Two children. Here lies my crossroads.
I'm not looking for a job yet but I've had 3 calls for interviews in the past 2 weeks. I had a job offer in the spring and I'm really scared to be turning anything down in this economy. But, I have an internship lined up for the fall. John will be able to be with the kids on Thursdays since he works a 4-day week now. (He's still full-time--just 4 long days to allow an extra day off.) I may need to go in for a couple hours for a few Tuesdays but, again I am blessed with a wonderful neighbor who has offered to help out. So, what do I do once I have that degree? Do I continue to trust that everything will work out and that I could be so lucky to get a part-time job that incorporates the best of both worlds? Or, do I need to make a choice...work or kids? There is obviously a financial aspect to the picture. More money would be very helpful but childcare costs prevent you from getting too far ahead. Any sage advice would be appreciated.
I love being with the kids but I am also eager to start my career. I feel like it has been such a long road just getting to the starting point and I don't want to miss the opportunity to start as I did with journalism. When I graduated with a journalism degree, I needed to move with the job and keep writing in order to keep my clips current. Well, I was engaged to get married in 3 months and my husband was still working and finishing his degree. Moving wasn't in the cards at the time. Plus, I lived in a small town which was over-saturated with journalists. I took a job as a bilingual customer service rep. for a company where I could use my French degree speaking to Canadians. It was awful. I sat in a cubicle listening to people complain all day. It didn't matter what language they spoke. I tried selling furniture and worked my way up to managing a small furniture store. Good money but also not satisfying. I remember talking to my mom and I still think of her sage advice, "figure out how you want to spend your day and then find a way to get paid for it." I figured I wanted to spend my day helping kids learn. I knew that was satisfying. It was helping others in a positive manner without taking on a lot of negative energy.
In 2005, I started substitute teaching. I also had a summer school job with my own classroom of K-3 students who were struggling to move to the next grade level and also had tough economic and social/family struggles. I've never had such a wonderful experience. I taught a boy to read who was resistant and had a speech impediment. Each of my students left with more self-confidence. And, the class tested as the most improved in the academy from their pre- and post-assessments. I was hooked. I wanted to be a teacher. I found that I had to go back to school and I might as well get a master's degree with the amount of coursework I'd have to take for a teaching license. At this point, my husband was graduating and itching to leave MO. He knew the area was limiting and certainly not large enough for him to breathe on his own. So, we literally took out a U.S. map and started eliminating areas and states. My only requirement was that there had to be a decent college nearby for teaching. His focus was on getting an IT position.
He graduated in December. Again, my wise mom said, "maybe you should visit the city before you move there." Sure did. Visited in January, signed a lease and moved in on Valentine's Day. I think she was attempting to help us slow down and evaluate our decision but instead we just jumped right in. Here we are. Halfway between the beach and the mountains. No more than 3 cold months a year. Plenty of college choices and the best IT center for jobs in the country. Granted, we never advertised all the motivations for our move or that neither of us had a job lined up when we drove across the country. But, we both took turns at temp positions and I worked a couple jobs for awhile. John landed a fantastic job with a great company and he has felt at home ever since. I met a wonderful lady, Vicki, who helped me realize how library science allowed me to use some of my journalism skills while also teaching. Three years of graduate school. Two children. Here lies my crossroads.
I'm not looking for a job yet but I've had 3 calls for interviews in the past 2 weeks. I had a job offer in the spring and I'm really scared to be turning anything down in this economy. But, I have an internship lined up for the fall. John will be able to be with the kids on Thursdays since he works a 4-day week now. (He's still full-time--just 4 long days to allow an extra day off.) I may need to go in for a couple hours for a few Tuesdays but, again I am blessed with a wonderful neighbor who has offered to help out. So, what do I do once I have that degree? Do I continue to trust that everything will work out and that I could be so lucky to get a part-time job that incorporates the best of both worlds? Or, do I need to make a choice...work or kids? There is obviously a financial aspect to the picture. More money would be very helpful but childcare costs prevent you from getting too far ahead. Any sage advice would be appreciated.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Baby girl is growing so fast
This morning Isabelle had her first dentist appointment. She was excellent and her teeth are looking great. So, the wrestling, headlocks, bargaining and pleading for her to allow me to brush her teeth are working out. That was really the only question I had for them: how do you brush a child's teeth who wants to do everything herself? Evidently I'm not going to traumatize her so keep up the good work. Fantastic! Oh, and I should start flossing soon, too! Really? That sounds like a lot of fun. I can't wait to stick my fingers in there. I know how hard she bites the toothbrush. I will say the dentist office was so much cooler than when I was a kid. There are fish everywhere and it looks like you are under the sea with a pirate chest of goodies. There is a separate kids area waiting room with games and a salt-water fish tank. On top of it, the dentist and hygienists were so happy and kid-friendly, it made me wonder if they had been sneaking some of the laughing gas.
After our big girl adventure at the dentist, we went by her soon-to-be preschool to turn in the paperwork and show her the classrooms. It's a wonderful church preschool where she will have some formal teaching and weekly chapel. However, it's mainly so she can spend more time socially with other children her age and it's only 3 hours a day for 2 days a week. I know it will be good for her but it seems like yesterday that she was just a newborn. So much of our time is spent on the day-to-day chores, feeding, cleaning and routines. It is easy to forget how quickly time passes. I've heard it just gets faster every year. Regardless, I think I may be the mom with the Kleenex box in the carpool line come September.
After our big girl adventure at the dentist, we went by her soon-to-be preschool to turn in the paperwork and show her the classrooms. It's a wonderful church preschool where she will have some formal teaching and weekly chapel. However, it's mainly so she can spend more time socially with other children her age and it's only 3 hours a day for 2 days a week. I know it will be good for her but it seems like yesterday that she was just a newborn. So much of our time is spent on the day-to-day chores, feeding, cleaning and routines. It is easy to forget how quickly time passes. I've heard it just gets faster every year. Regardless, I think I may be the mom with the Kleenex box in the carpool line come September.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
A long nap is not always a good thing
This past Sunday was great! Both babies were having a much longer than usual nap time. I was getting so much accomplished and it was so quiet. After awhile, I started to get worried. It was similar to the feeling you get when your child is too quiet during playtime and you instinctively know they are getting into trouble. I tried to brush it off because I can hear them downstairs when they are awake and I'd been upstairs to double check a few times so it was wise to push on with the chores so I could relax at the end of the day. Finally, I hear Ryan awake. I go in there and hear a knock coming from my daughter's door. OF course, that is a little weird. Let me preface this by saying she is one where if she is up, everyone in the house is up because she is hollering or singing loudly. And, she has recently transitioned into a toddler bed so she is busting out of that door at the first chance she gets when she wakes up. Hmmm. So I leave the baby in the bed and go to open the door. There she stands totally naked with her hands on her hips. It's amusing for a second until I smell it. An unmistakable odor of poo. A mild panic sets in and the scavenger hunt is under way. I'm whisking my daughter into the bathroom to clean her because of course she has tried to clean herself up unsuccessfully. Then I'm throwing the sheets off the bed, looking under toys, constantly asking Isabelle, "where's your diaper?" She just keeps saying "poo-poo" over and over again. Meanwhile, baby Ryan is screaming because I left him in his crib to attend to the poo. So, I stop and try to think like a toddler. The diaper basket. The cute little diaper basket that holds all the clean diapers and wipes. Of course. There is was. Smeared all over the basket, the carpet, the bedding, the door. The blessing of a long nap turned into a cleaning frenzy from top to bottom, including the carpet for the rest of the afternoon. The potty training seats were ordered that night. I also indulged in "The No-Cry Potty Training Solution:Gentle Ways to Help Your Child Say Good-Bye to Diapers." Fun Times.
Welcome
I decided I'd join the bandwagon and begin a blog. It really is a selfish endeavor because it will allow me to reflect and look back on the funny stories, the tough times, and the awesome milestones of raising my kiddos. I'd journal but quite frankly this is an easier way to reflect as well as share with others. I know blogging is a bit self-indulgent but I also find it could help me become a better mother by putting my stories out there and soliciting input from others. If you feel so inclined, you are welcome to follow my crazy journey of motherhood. I make no promises or guarantees about the entertainment value but I am opening up some life stories to share with you and encourage advice and comments.
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