Well, I know it's been a while. Life has a funny way of taking up your time. Instead of going through a run through of "the life of Al" I'm going to just try to catch up on life. It's been a busy one. From my last blog, you know that I went back to school. I survived my first week, which left me both exhilerated and a little freaked out. Both classes have really interesting assignments, but the lectures may do me in. Art History and Intro to communications await. I need to work on time management (always a challenge for me).
Al went back to school a 4 weeks ago. Sounds like things are going pretty well. He got assigned a "beat" for the school paper. He will be doing the majority of the writing for the admissions office. Good opportunity for him. Other than german class, he seems to do pretty well
I continue to work on my new business "All Wrapped Up". I have several expos coming up in the next few months, so that will be a challenge to handle that and school. I have put the business aside for a few weeks to help with our churches Harvet Fest silent auction. The baskets are turning out great for them. Hopefully it will be a successful fundraiser for the church. Sunday Sept 27th from 10-3. I will also be sing with two praise teams and providing some solo music to fill in the live music as needed.
Life is good. And I am blessed.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
What do I want to be when I grow up
Well. I'm jumping ahead a few years (ok 18 of them). It crazy... but I am going back to school. I'm officially registered for classes and will start Sept 15th. It's a bit frightening and I alternate between excited and scared to death..... but it's time. Everyone says I will be fine and I believe that, but I think the panic is going to continue until I actual get through the first few weeks. I'm pretty sure that I'm going after a communications major but am still a little undecided on where I want to focus. It will be organizational, Marketing, or Mass Comm. Or, I may just decide to say screw it and join the circus.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Back to Work
Well, after a several week absence, and getting "yelled at" by more than a few people (including my son), I am back!! Whether that's good or bad we will see.
Where was I...... Oh yes. Returning to work.
My maternity leave came to an end all too quickly and I went back to work after four short months. I was blessed enough to have my oldest sister taking care of Alex. It was a mixed blessing. That my sister was taking care of him was very comforting. She had a wonderful way with kids and she had been a nanny for two physicians prior to starting her own family. My hours were very chaotic and changeable and she could accommodate my schedule with no problems. While her two children were very close in age to Alex, he was her only other baby. The price was right. But the best and most compelling reason of all was that, if I couldn't be there, there was no one that would love my baby more and treat him as her own.
There were down sides of course. And while it had nothing to do with how well she cared for him, they were still there none the less. I had to drive 40 miles round trip every day that I worked to get him there and back (so what I saved in day care, I used up in gas). And when it's your sister it's hard to just pick up your baby and head out the door. Sometimes I was the only other adult she would see all day besides her husband, so she would want to linger and chat, which was hard considering I had already worked at least an additional hours plus drive times. There was nothing I wanted to do more than go home snuggle with Alex and drop into bed. Let alone do housework.
But the good far outweighed the bad. And we fell into another pattern, at least as much as was possible. And watching the changes in Al was amazing. He really thrived at Diane's. Her son was only two month's older than Alex, so for all intends and purposes they were twins of sorts. There personalities were nothing alike, but they did complement each other. Alex in typical first child status was more impatient and more demanding. Clint by contrast was extremely laid back with a smile could make you melt. I always tell people that Clint was a textbook baby. When you looked at the book "What to Expect the First Year", Clint did everything by the book. If it said by this stage a typical baby "should do such and such", you could bet that Clint would be right on schedule. By contrast, Alex in his typical impatient fashion, was early at everything. I think I have Clint to thank (our curse) for that. If Clint sat up on his own at 5 months, Alex did it at 4. Alex had a month to catch up to Clint and still be extremely early. I think the milestone that stuck out most in my mind was walking. "The book" said an average child could start walking between 9 or 10 months. And Mr. Clock work was right on schedule. I remember picking up Alex one night and I was sitting on the couch with each of the boys holding onto one of my knees. They were taking something away from each other ( a rattle, or some toy) and after Clint grabbed it the last time, he turned an tottled away, across the room. Alex was so mad!! And he would drop to his knees to chase him. If Clint walked, he wanted to walk too. And guess what, by the next week he was walking 8 months.
It was so funny to watch Alex, Samantha, and Clint together.
So many little memories:
Where was I...... Oh yes. Returning to work.
My maternity leave came to an end all too quickly and I went back to work after four short months. I was blessed enough to have my oldest sister taking care of Alex. It was a mixed blessing. That my sister was taking care of him was very comforting. She had a wonderful way with kids and she had been a nanny for two physicians prior to starting her own family. My hours were very chaotic and changeable and she could accommodate my schedule with no problems. While her two children were very close in age to Alex, he was her only other baby. The price was right. But the best and most compelling reason of all was that, if I couldn't be there, there was no one that would love my baby more and treat him as her own.
There were down sides of course. And while it had nothing to do with how well she cared for him, they were still there none the less. I had to drive 40 miles round trip every day that I worked to get him there and back (so what I saved in day care, I used up in gas). And when it's your sister it's hard to just pick up your baby and head out the door. Sometimes I was the only other adult she would see all day besides her husband, so she would want to linger and chat, which was hard considering I had already worked at least an additional hours plus drive times. There was nothing I wanted to do more than go home snuggle with Alex and drop into bed. Let alone do housework.
But the good far outweighed the bad. And we fell into another pattern, at least as much as was possible. And watching the changes in Al was amazing. He really thrived at Diane's. Her son was only two month's older than Alex, so for all intends and purposes they were twins of sorts. There personalities were nothing alike, but they did complement each other. Alex in typical first child status was more impatient and more demanding. Clint by contrast was extremely laid back with a smile could make you melt. I always tell people that Clint was a textbook baby. When you looked at the book "What to Expect the First Year", Clint did everything by the book. If it said by this stage a typical baby "should do such and such", you could bet that Clint would be right on schedule. By contrast, Alex in his typical impatient fashion, was early at everything. I think I have Clint to thank (our curse) for that. If Clint sat up on his own at 5 months, Alex did it at 4. Alex had a month to catch up to Clint and still be extremely early. I think the milestone that stuck out most in my mind was walking. "The book" said an average child could start walking between 9 or 10 months. And Mr. Clock work was right on schedule. I remember picking up Alex one night and I was sitting on the couch with each of the boys holding onto one of my knees. They were taking something away from each other ( a rattle, or some toy) and after Clint grabbed it the last time, he turned an tottled away, across the room. Alex was so mad!! And he would drop to his knees to chase him. If Clint walked, he wanted to walk too. And guess what, by the next week he was walking 8 months.
It was so funny to watch Alex, Samantha, and Clint together.
So many little memories:
- Walking into Diane's living room while she was vacuuming. Both of the boys were in walkers back to back watching her. I laughed so hard as I realized they were following the movements of the vacuum back and forth, in pendulum fashion. Because they couldn't see each other, it looked like they were watching the same tennis match. I looked questioningly (is that a word?) at Diane, she said they were both really fussy and both of them liked the sound of the vacuum. Who knew a small engine motor could be a pacifier?
- Sitting in Diane's back yard with the kids in the turtle sandbox (didn't every kids have them). You could not take you eyes of either boy because the would stuff sand in their mouths. It definitely made for interesting diaper changes if you couldn't get to them quick enough to keep them from swallowing it.
- Seeing Diane return from a walk with Samantha, Clint, and Alex all in one stroller. Double strollers weren't common place 20 years ago, so she made due with what she had. Clint, the most content of the three, would sit in the back with no view, but content to be outside. Alex would be in the middle, which probably wasn't his favorite spot, but you could not for any amount of coaxing, get him in back. And Samantha, in her typically demanding fashion, was right up front with her legs dangling. After all age does have it's privileges.
It was a content time, though busy that always makes me feel warm when I remember those times.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Words that Hurt....Words that Heal
I am often struck how thoughtless we can be as human beings. The classic rule of "Open mouth and insert foot" is something we are all guilty of at one time or another. Myself included. Strangers in their ignorance and niavete speak words that can sting. In most cases, their words are easily dismissed. However, a loved ones thoughtless words that unwittingly and unconciously hurt, leave lasting scars that take many years to heal.
One of the things that have I told people time and time again is how I really learned and understood who my friends were when I found out I was pregnant. I as said in previous posts, I rememberd how scared I was when I suspected, then confimed my pregnancy. I had many friends in my workplace, but there were only two that I felt comfortable with my secret in the beginning. And their collective reactions cemented forever in my heart why I valued their trust and friendship. When, I shared my impending parenthood with my friend Cindy, her first response was to ask how I was and then wholeheartedly offered her congratulations. The second, Annette, took a deep breath, and asked me how I felt and if I was happy. That took me a bit by surprise, but after a second, I could respond with "I'm going to be fine and yes, I was scared, but very happy." The two of them became the most protective mother bears and were my staunchest champions when I was feeling the pressure. I will forever be in their debt.
Still, it did amaze me that perfect strangers and aquaintances could say the most thoughtless and hurtful things. When coworkers from another part-time job found about about my pregnancy, they were more concerned about the parternity then how I was or felt. Another coworker upset that I didn't make a point coming in and sharing the news with her personally. Or the patient that I registered for the hospital when I was in my later months of pregnancy who was making idle chit chat with me. He asked me what I was hoping for as far as gender and I told him my standard answer "A healthy baby is all I want." He responded (and yes this is a direct quote) "Well I would sure hope for a boy, because they don't come home at 16 pregnant and ready to go on welfare" Because of course, the boy would bear no responsibility for the impregnation. Those type of comments could be maddening, but though they were not easily forgotten (obviously) they didnt' really effect me in the long haul. I could maybe get a little angry, but still shake my head and let it go.
I think the one thing that stayed with me for a very long time and took me a while to forgive was a comment made by my own sister. We were in Florida and at a very nice restaurant for dinner celebrating the news of her own pregnancy. We were trying to decide on our appetizers and as I didn't really care, I responded with "I don't care, I'm easy" With a laugh, she responded, "Well, that's obvious". Okay...... chalk it up to post partum hormones, and the baby blues, but that hurt. Was that what she really thought? My own sister. In my head, I could rationalize the tacky, but well meant joke. In my heart, I was so incredibly hurt, that if she said it, she thought it. I love my sister dearly, but that is something that always stayed with me. I know she has no idea how much that comment effected me. But a funny thing happened not too long ago. This same sister and I were discussing parenting and making observations. She said something that took me by surprise and though she didn't know it when she said it, healed a heart. She said she had been talking to a friend about a mutual aquaintance who was a single parent whose child has been, to put it mildly, a challenge and a terror. When the friend tried to excuse the parent, because they were a "single parent and what can you expect", my sister said told her that was no excuse. I was a single parent and have raised a child that is bright, articulate, and well adjusted. Lack of a spouse was no excuse for a hellion. I was so touched that she defended me and in doing that defended the decision to parent withouth a partner.
In a perfect world, we always say the right things. We never offend or hurt with words or deeds. In a perfect world, there is a happily married family with 2.7 child and there is no divorce, or death. In a perfect world, there is no war....you get the picture. But you know what I realized in all of that. Sometimes its that harsh or hurtful word that makes me grow and stand up for myself. That gives me the stubbornness to prove them wrong. Do I get defensive sometimes? Absolutely. Am I easily hurt? Yes, much more than people realize. Would I live it all over again.? Without a doubt, yes!
What keeps me going? My faith....My family....and those wonderful friends who I know care and will always support me.
One of the things that have I told people time and time again is how I really learned and understood who my friends were when I found out I was pregnant. I as said in previous posts, I rememberd how scared I was when I suspected, then confimed my pregnancy. I had many friends in my workplace, but there were only two that I felt comfortable with my secret in the beginning. And their collective reactions cemented forever in my heart why I valued their trust and friendship. When, I shared my impending parenthood with my friend Cindy, her first response was to ask how I was and then wholeheartedly offered her congratulations. The second, Annette, took a deep breath, and asked me how I felt and if I was happy. That took me a bit by surprise, but after a second, I could respond with "I'm going to be fine and yes, I was scared, but very happy." The two of them became the most protective mother bears and were my staunchest champions when I was feeling the pressure. I will forever be in their debt.
Still, it did amaze me that perfect strangers and aquaintances could say the most thoughtless and hurtful things. When coworkers from another part-time job found about about my pregnancy, they were more concerned about the parternity then how I was or felt. Another coworker upset that I didn't make a point coming in and sharing the news with her personally. Or the patient that I registered for the hospital when I was in my later months of pregnancy who was making idle chit chat with me. He asked me what I was hoping for as far as gender and I told him my standard answer "A healthy baby is all I want." He responded (and yes this is a direct quote) "Well I would sure hope for a boy, because they don't come home at 16 pregnant and ready to go on welfare" Because of course, the boy would bear no responsibility for the impregnation. Those type of comments could be maddening, but though they were not easily forgotten (obviously) they didnt' really effect me in the long haul. I could maybe get a little angry, but still shake my head and let it go.
I think the one thing that stayed with me for a very long time and took me a while to forgive was a comment made by my own sister. We were in Florida and at a very nice restaurant for dinner celebrating the news of her own pregnancy. We were trying to decide on our appetizers and as I didn't really care, I responded with "I don't care, I'm easy" With a laugh, she responded, "Well, that's obvious". Okay...... chalk it up to post partum hormones, and the baby blues, but that hurt. Was that what she really thought? My own sister. In my head, I could rationalize the tacky, but well meant joke. In my heart, I was so incredibly hurt, that if she said it, she thought it. I love my sister dearly, but that is something that always stayed with me. I know she has no idea how much that comment effected me. But a funny thing happened not too long ago. This same sister and I were discussing parenting and making observations. She said something that took me by surprise and though she didn't know it when she said it, healed a heart. She said she had been talking to a friend about a mutual aquaintance who was a single parent whose child has been, to put it mildly, a challenge and a terror. When the friend tried to excuse the parent, because they were a "single parent and what can you expect", my sister said told her that was no excuse. I was a single parent and have raised a child that is bright, articulate, and well adjusted. Lack of a spouse was no excuse for a hellion. I was so touched that she defended me and in doing that defended the decision to parent withouth a partner.
In a perfect world, we always say the right things. We never offend or hurt with words or deeds. In a perfect world, there is a happily married family with 2.7 child and there is no divorce, or death. In a perfect world, there is no war....you get the picture. But you know what I realized in all of that. Sometimes its that harsh or hurtful word that makes me grow and stand up for myself. That gives me the stubbornness to prove them wrong. Do I get defensive sometimes? Absolutely. Am I easily hurt? Yes, much more than people realize. Would I live it all over again.? Without a doubt, yes!
What keeps me going? My faith....My family....and those wonderful friends who I know care and will always support me.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A Month of Firsts
Christmas came and went and we were faced the long winter months. My sister and her husband lived in Northern Florida at the time and we had more family in the Florida Keys. We took the opportunity to escape the great white north. With my doctors blessing, we packed up and headed south. Babies are incredibly portable at that age. I’m definitely a person who likes to be on the go (as almost any of my friends can tell you) and I was pleasantly surprised that my son traveled so well. The only trouble we encountered was that because he so loved the ride (he slept through most of it), his days and nights were messed up once again. So I got very little sleep on the trip down because when the car stopped he was bright eyed and ready to be adored. Everyone else was exhausted, but he was ready to take on the world. After two very long days in the car we made it to my sister and her husbands. My Dad continued down to the Keys and my sister, mom, Alex, and I would follow after some much needed rest in Jacksonville. We took the baby and explored northern Florida. As expected, he was adored by the staff in my sister’s office. We took him to the beach and to St Augustine (the oldest city in the USA). Alex experienced many firsts. His first ‘buggy ride” was in the horse drawn carriage that took us on a tour of St Augustine. My mother and I went to “Marineland” and he got to see his first dolphins (ok, he was 9 weeks old, so if you ask him, the memory may be fuzzy).
My sister took some time off work and we headed further south. Three of my cousins lived in the Florida Keys on an island called Big Pine Key (home of the endangered key deer, for you trivial pursuit buffs). The weather was beautiful. We went to Key West and had our picture taken at the buoy that marks the most southern point of the US. We visited Hemingway House and saw the six toed cats (yes, I said six). They really do exist. Look it up on Google!
It was a great visit, but a little odd at times. One cousin and his wife had just become parents of twin girls almost exactly one month after Alex was born. Unfortunately one of the twins had colic. The poor thing was miserable. It made me count my blessings that I had such a happy and content baby. We had stayed at a different family member’s house, which was blessedly quieter. My many family member’s definitely doted on Alex, almost to the point that I felt a little abandoned. Indeed, if it had not been for the fact that I was breastfeeding, I don’t know that I would have even seen him very much during our time there.
I did have one scare while we were in the Keys. Or it seemed like a crisis at the time. As I have said earlier, Alex was breast fed. One evening, my sister and I had left to run an errand. Ever demanding, Alex got hungry. He was not about to wait for me to return to eat. So my mother decided to try the soy formula I had left in my diaper bag. It was what the hospital gave me when we were dismissed and had just never taken it out. With a little coaxing, he took it fine, but got very sick that night. He had never thrown up like that before. Once he settled down and went back to sleep, I sat in the living of my cousins at 1:00 am and cried. I have always been the kind of person that stays calm under crisis, but falls apart when it was all over. I had been so frightened. It made me wonder if I was cut out for this. But exhausted, I finally got back to sleep and the perspective was much better when I woke up
Eventually we headed back to Minnesota and our first adventure was over. Time to go back to the real world.
My sister took some time off work and we headed further south. Three of my cousins lived in the Florida Keys on an island called Big Pine Key (home of the endangered key deer, for you trivial pursuit buffs). The weather was beautiful. We went to Key West and had our picture taken at the buoy that marks the most southern point of the US. We visited Hemingway House and saw the six toed cats (yes, I said six). They really do exist. Look it up on Google!
It was a great visit, but a little odd at times. One cousin and his wife had just become parents of twin girls almost exactly one month after Alex was born. Unfortunately one of the twins had colic. The poor thing was miserable. It made me count my blessings that I had such a happy and content baby. We had stayed at a different family member’s house, which was blessedly quieter. My many family member’s definitely doted on Alex, almost to the point that I felt a little abandoned. Indeed, if it had not been for the fact that I was breastfeeding, I don’t know that I would have even seen him very much during our time there.
I did have one scare while we were in the Keys. Or it seemed like a crisis at the time. As I have said earlier, Alex was breast fed. One evening, my sister and I had left to run an errand. Ever demanding, Alex got hungry. He was not about to wait for me to return to eat. So my mother decided to try the soy formula I had left in my diaper bag. It was what the hospital gave me when we were dismissed and had just never taken it out. With a little coaxing, he took it fine, but got very sick that night. He had never thrown up like that before. Once he settled down and went back to sleep, I sat in the living of my cousins at 1:00 am and cried. I have always been the kind of person that stays calm under crisis, but falls apart when it was all over. I had been so frightened. It made me wonder if I was cut out for this. But exhausted, I finally got back to sleep and the perspective was much better when I woke up
Eventually we headed back to Minnesota and our first adventure was over. Time to go back to the real world.
Friday, February 6, 2009
There is no such thing as Super Mom
As we started to adjust to a schedule, many things became very obvious. The level of exhaustion that you are subject to is not something anyone is ever ready for. It’s the same for all parents, but seemed even more apparent when you are doing it solo. And in my glorious naïveté, I was determined to break the mold of the single parent stereotype. I was going to be Super Mom. But, again as our God has a sense of humor, I remember one of the first evenings that I was put to the test
My son of possibly five weeks was have a particularly fussy night. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t wet, but he was DEFINITELY NOT HAPPY. So, I rocked and walked and bounced and rocked and walked….you get the picture. It’s amazing how you will try and try again the same thing and just pray it will work this time. And when you succumb to the tears, because you have nothing else, you want the one thing that every child wants no matter how old…..
You want your Mommy……..
Yes, I’m not ashamed to admit that at 9:00 at night I called my mother in tears because I had nothing else. And as any loving mother would do, she bundled herself up, started and warmed up her car (remember this is Minnesota and winter as well.) and drive the 12 miles from her house to my rescue. She found me on the sofa with my infant laying across my lap with his tummy on my knee cap and my hand supporting his head, bouncing him. My legs felt like jelly, but as long as I kept up the bouncing, he was not screaming. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t screaming. My mother took him we started again with everything I had tried. Lo and behold , he simultaneously let out a huge belch and soiled his diaper in the most foul way. He then promptly collapsed into an exhausted sleep and I didn’t hear a peep out of him all night.
I learned several important lessons last night.
1) There is no such thing as Supermom
2) Relax….
3) No matter how old you are, everyone needs their Mommy
4) Moms may know everything, but sometime only Grandma can fix it.
My son of possibly five weeks was have a particularly fussy night. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t wet, but he was DEFINITELY NOT HAPPY. So, I rocked and walked and bounced and rocked and walked….you get the picture. It’s amazing how you will try and try again the same thing and just pray it will work this time. And when you succumb to the tears, because you have nothing else, you want the one thing that every child wants no matter how old…..
You want your Mommy……..
Yes, I’m not ashamed to admit that at 9:00 at night I called my mother in tears because I had nothing else. And as any loving mother would do, she bundled herself up, started and warmed up her car (remember this is Minnesota and winter as well.) and drive the 12 miles from her house to my rescue. She found me on the sofa with my infant laying across my lap with his tummy on my knee cap and my hand supporting his head, bouncing him. My legs felt like jelly, but as long as I kept up the bouncing, he was not screaming. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t screaming. My mother took him we started again with everything I had tried. Lo and behold , he simultaneously let out a huge belch and soiled his diaper in the most foul way. He then promptly collapsed into an exhausted sleep and I didn’t hear a peep out of him all night.
I learned several important lessons last night.
1) There is no such thing as Supermom
2) Relax….
3) No matter how old you are, everyone needs their Mommy
4) Moms may know everything, but sometime only Grandma can fix it.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Our first Christmas
As the days turned into weeks, my little man and I got into a rhythm. I survived the first few weeks of breast feeding and I hadn’t killed him yet. I wouldn't say we were on a schedule, but we were managing. Fortunately he was an incredibly healthy baby. I lived in fear of colic, or worse. I worked at the time in the admissions department of a hospital. I remember seeing some incredibly sick children come through our doors, and wondered what I would do if my child was born with or developed a serious illness. But I suppose that is no different that any other parents. I just had a front row view.
Our first Christmas was incredibly fun …..for me. My baby at 4 weeks, couldn’t do more than stare at the Christmas lights, but that didn’t stop me from wrapping gifts for him to put under the tree. Of course looking back, it was a little ridiculous. I mean, I had just wrapped them myself. But it was important for me to establish I think in my own mind, that we were a family, just the two of us, and this is what families do. And I must say, as silly as it was, it was fun to open all of those gifts.
Our first Christmas was incredibly fun …..for me. My baby at 4 weeks, couldn’t do more than stare at the Christmas lights, but that didn’t stop me from wrapping gifts for him to put under the tree. Of course looking back, it was a little ridiculous. I mean, I had just wrapped them myself. But it was important for me to establish I think in my own mind, that we were a family, just the two of us, and this is what families do. And I must say, as silly as it was, it was fun to open all of those gifts.
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