A Change Will Do You Good

Christmas is done. Tomorrow I'll box up all the Christmas stuff while Jadyn is at preschool. This act is usually one of the most depressing tasks of the season for me.

But not this year.

I'm excited. I'm ready. Ready for this year to be over. Ready to move on.

There's change in the wind. I can feel it. I can smell it.

I don't know what it is. But something is going to change. Something big. Something good.

And I'm so ready.

Christmas Passed

Normally by this time of year I am just about to jump out of my skin with excitement. I have always adored Christmas in a way that often bewilders and even bothers my darling spouse. I start listening to carols and working on gift lists by the time the Thanksgiving leftovers are gone.

This year something isn't quite there for me. Maybe it's because for the first time since becoming a mother, I'm working full time. I don't feel like I can give enough focus to the holiday. Maybe it's because in spite of my working full time, we are feeling the crunch of ends not meeting the way they should. Maybe it's because this has simply been a difficult year in lots of ways for me and I'm worn out.

But I think it's something else.

Something in me has fast-forwarded. Mentally I feel like it's going to slip by so fast that I've almost counted it as over already. Instead of savoring every minute, I mourn it's passing. I know that soon it will be finished - the gifts open, the carols gone, the food eaten, the pictures uploaded. Then will begin the long slow towards Spring. Because I dread the time when Christmas is over, I can't enjoy it's happening.

I've got to stop, look around, take a breath, find the beauty in the now. This Christmas will only happen once. I don't want to miss it.

Creative Inspiration

What is it that sparks creativity? What brings inspiration? If there is really nothing "new" under the sun, where do we get the idea that there is original thought?

I love being given the opportunity stretch my creative muscles. I have several projects bouncing around in my head, and it's refreshing. I feel like I'm coming back to life. Aaaahhhh.

Unavoidable

Even the fictional character in the book I'm reading is pregnant. Seriously, enough.

I love my friends, I promise I do. But if you're about to announce your pregnancy, please oh PLEASE do not be offended if I stay quiet for a while. It's me, not you. Really.

Up and Down

Yeah, I know. I bailed on NaBloPoMo. Oh well. There's always next year.

I recently saw that another blogger I follow is pregnant. That's two. Maybe I'll stop reading blogs. I begrudge no one their joy, as I've said before, but sheesh. It smarts.

On an entirely different topic, I had a really good meeting today a potential change in my future. Updates to follow.

Not much to say

I don't have much to say today. Funny how sometimes you can go through a whole day and have experienced very little worth comment. Is my life that boring?

Pigskin Roundup

When I first moved to the South 10 years ago, my husband Paul gave me a 3 hour discourse on football in the Southeastern Conference (SEC). During this lecture, I learned which teams were in each division, how many non-conference games occur each season, who the big rivals are, etc. I was armed with enough information to have intelligent football conversation with any pure-bred Southerner.

See, we moved from my native Pennsylvania to his native Alabama. And in Alabama, once you cross the state line, you must declare allegiance to either the University of Alabama or Auburn University. I married a Bama boy, so I chose the Crimson Tide. Seemed like a logical choice.

Six years after we were married we moved to Mississippi, and we now live in the same town as Mississippi State University. On game days we can practically hear the cowbells from our front yard. So our allegiances have been somewhat divided in the past few years. Last year was an especially bad year for Alabama, and an especially good year for MSU. We felt ourselves shifting more toward maroon and further away from crimson.

This year, however, we are prouder than ever of the Tide. Tonight they played a hard-fought game against Louisiana State University. They went into the game with a perfect season, and LSU has often been a tough competitor. It was only in overtime that Alabama emerged victorious. Nick Saban is finally earning all that money. Now we're hoping the boys aren't overconfident in the next two weeks. We'll keep watching and cheering....

Crunch Time

It's been stressful, trying to make ends meet. I hate going to the grocery store. I hate looking through the closets and seeing big gaps in the wardrobes. The one bright spot is that I just got gas for $1.87 a gallon.

I'm even trying to get a part time job (on top of my full time job) to try to lighten the load. So far, no luck.

I'm so frustrated. I'm so tired. And I'm trying to trust that God is going to get us through this.

Me Time

I love that my husband and I allow one another time on our own. He picked up Jadyn so I could hash out some creative ideas for church. I put Jadyn to bed so he could go hang out with a friend to talk about music.

We don't have a perfect marriage, not by a long shot. But I appreciate that we give each other space. It makes us happier when we get to spend time with one another.

My Dog

Hershey is a 9 year old 100 pound chocolate lab. His behavior since Jadyn was born, 3 years ago, has been on a steady decline. My going to work full time did not help matters any. But the past year has been the worst yet. I promise you, I think he's becoming a goat.

Hershey has eaten crayons, toys, markers, sippy cups, plastic storage containers, food packages out of the garbage, various *ahem* feminine hygiene products, and then, from time to time, his own food.

This is getting ridiculous.

For Something Completely Different

I am not going to blog about the election. Frankly, after 2 years of hearing about it, I'm over it. Let it be done already!

But once this whole thing is decided, regardless of whether it goes the way I voted, I will respect and pray for the person who takes on the role, because to do otherwise isn't going to do any good.

The Election

I know it's important. For crying out loud, every rock, TV and movie star have been telling us, just in case we missed it by not watching the news.

But I'm tired. I'm tired of the back and forth. I'm tired of the name-calling. I'm tired of people treating each other as inferior because they belong to a different political party.

And on Wednesday we'll wake up and it will be over. But it really won't be. The winners will gloat. The losers will fuss and complain and make idle threats about moving to another country.

And to think, I studied this stuff in college. What was I thinking?!

NaBloPoMo 2008

For the past few years I have tried to participate in NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month. I'm going to try again this year. Last year was on Jadyn's blog but i think this year I'll do it here. I have no idea what I'll talk about. Isn't that the fun of it?

I'm sure some of it will be about the election - after all, how could it NOT be?! Other possible topics include (in no particular order) family, holidays, gas prices, why I dislike my dog, hormones and food. But that's just off the top of the ole noggin.

Longing...still...

It's not that I would wish for one moment that someone else really had to go through my experience with infertility. And it's not as though I would choose to disregard the joy of someone experiencing pregnancy. Having been through it once myself, I wish them all the best.

That being said, it is sometimes very painful to read blogs of women enjoying their second or even third healthy pregnancy. I'm 37 with one child, and with every passing month I'm even more aware that the clock is ticking way too fast. I feel like I'm almost out of time. I'm scared. I want to be content, to say (and mean) that I really am perfectly fine with being a one-child family.

But I'm not.

This is no fun.

Longing

It's one of those months when it seems like almost everyone around me is either announcing a pregnancy or celebrating a new birth. I hate months like this.

Repeating Hang-Ups

On Wednesday I took what I somewhat teasingly refer to as a Mental Health Day. Jadyn had a doctor's appointment that morning, so I decided to take the day off to spend with her, rather than slaving away processing transcripts and withdrawal requests for the local community college population.

At the appointment, the doctor gushed with all sincerity about Jadyn being one of his absolute favorite patients (which he says every time, and every time I believe him). He couldn't believe she's 3 already and wished for her to be a baby again. Yeah, me too, some days.

After some shopping, craft painting and lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant, we headed to the park for a little pre-nap energy explusion. (Read: play.) With trepidation I pulled into the parking lot, having noticed multiple minivans and SUVs already in place. These were elltale signs that a Stay-At-Home-Mothers group had decended upon the park. It was too late to turn around; I had already promised Jadyn some playtime.

Why was I bothered by this mommyfest? I used to be one of them, after all, trying to balance the right amount of activity, nutrition, education, play and naptime into our days. And that was just it. I no longer fit in the library, kindermusik, play date crowd. I'm a working mother now, full time. On days like these I loathe the situation, but for the time being I can't change it.

We walked up to the elaborate play apparati and I encouraged Jadyn to go play while found a bench on the other side of the playset, far away from the mommy clique. She was more interested in doing her own thing. That's great, I thought. I applaud her for her independence. But I saw how she watched the other little girls chase each other around the slide. Again, I encouraged her. "Go play with them, it's ok." She did join their ranks, albeit briefly, before returning to her own amusement on the monkey bars.

I was sad. She's a friendly kid, often walking up to complete strangers in the store to ask their name. I suddenly wondered if my inner struggle with shyness was rubbing off on her. I used to think I wasn't shy at all. As I child I was told I was outgoing so I figured it must be true. But as I got older and encountered more "real life", I allowed myself to be extroverted in certain comfortable scenarios, such as during performances. I'm scared to death to walk up to a stranger and introduce myself. It probably seems schizophrenic that I can live in front of a crowd on stage and cower at the thought of meeting one new person. But the more I "grow up", the more I realize the issues that plague me.

I didn't want to go talk to those moms. Not because I didn't think I'd like them. Not because I thought we'd have nothing in common. I've seen them around town and on occasion spoken to a few of them. That's not why I was afraid to talk to them. It was because I thought they'd reject me. Reject me for my weight. Reject me for my income (or lack thereof). Reject me for my clothing or hairstyle. Reject me for not staying home like they do.

Or even worse, ignore me completely, as though I were invisible.

I sat there worrying that Jadyn was becoming me faster than I could teach her otherwise. I felt my insecurity becoming hers by osmosis. At just that moment, Jadyn saw a little girl fall nearby. She rushed to her side, asking, "Are you OK?" She comforted the girl before returning to her own fun.

Her heart, her sweet, caring, compassionate heart, reached out. This is the girl who knows the names of every child not only in her class, but in most of the school. This is the girl who can't leave at the end of the school day without getting half a dozen hugs from friends. This is the girl whose name all the kids know, even in the younger and older classes. Is she perfect? Of course not. She's human, after all, and is bound to inherit a few trouble spots from Paul and I, and dear old Adam & Eve. But will she overcome her imperfection to become the best person she can possibly be?

I have no doubt. God has already started on her. Let's just hope I help the process, not hinder it.

Not for me

I was definitely NOT cut out to be a nurse. Paul has been dealing with an AWFUL bout of cellulitis. This is not the first time, but it is by far the worst. When the leg is unwrapped, it looks like a severe burn. At one point it was swollen to twice its normal size. He's on the couch with his leg elevated above his heart, only getting up to use the rest room.

I'm thankful for medical professionals. I'm not cut out for it.

You know....

....if I knew how to get over it, I'd already BE over it.

But I don't, so I'm not.

And I'm still here. You're stuck with me just the way I am.

So there!

Round and round

Secondary infertility is usually defined as the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term after successfully and naturally conceiving one or more children. It sounds pretty cut and dried - straight-forward and easy to understand. It's much more complicated when you're living through it.

When you go through infertility without having had any successful pregnancies, you begin to have all sorts of questions:

• What if I'm not meant to be a parent?
• Am I being punished for the sins of my youth?
• How far am I willing to go to have a child?
  
• What will my future be like without a child?

But when you go through secondary infertility, there are different questions:

• Is it wrong for me to want another baby when I already have been blessed with a healthy, happy child?
• How do I answer the ubiquitous question, "When are you having another?"
• Can I really be happy with just one?
• If I never have another, how do I keep from spoiling the one I have?
• Why can't I just be content?
• What worked last time that isn't working this time?

After 2 years and 2 miscarriages, I'm getting tired. And I'm getting old. Please, God.

Don't go there!

It still hurts, but I still go. And I am fast approaching the point where it will either stop hurting or I will stop going.

I know, I'm cryptic. But that's where I'm at.