Been a while

This fall flew by like the blink of an eye. 
Work took over my life in many ways: I was sucked into a whirlwind of meetings, diapers, and always being behind the ball and never quite catching it.  This past week I took several days off and remembered what it was like to live a somewhat balanced life.  It was lovely.
I'm now ready to go back to work toorrow and face what will likely be another whirlwind year.  My goal will be to stay IN it, not ahead or behind it. 

In a short eight months I'll be not only the mother of an almost preschooler but the owner of a preschool in a brand new location.  It's hard to believe that it will be here so quickly.
I'm ready for this challenge.  The scariest part is making sure that the level of quality stays high during the transition; I need to balance filling many more spaces with keeping the families already enrolled happy and the children busy and actively engaged.  I need to balance training and supporting my staff while preparing for new hires.

I can honestly say I am up for the challenge.  I no longer feel depleted like I did a couple of weeks ago; I felt I could barely keep up but now I have renewed energy.


It is interesting; my job title of Director says it all...I need to direct all flows of traffic to make sure there are no accidents in every aspect of the school.  Yet in life, my biggest cross to bear is that I am too controlling.  I want to let go and let things happen.  I want to trust and believe that life will be full and good even if I'm not calling all the shots.  In those brief moments where I am able to fully let go it is incredibly freeing.  I feel fulfilled and happy and relaxed, almost no matter the task.  I need to find ways to remind myself how I would like to live. 

To this end, I am pledging to journal and blog more often; it's been three months since my last blog post and nine since I've written in my journal.  It's needed, it's necessary. 

Now as I type I hear that Griffin is awake from his nap.  It's time to go play with my baby.  I mean, my toddler.  He's a toddler now.  Oh, and I pledge also that the next blog post will be about him. 

My not so little boy, nine months.

My little boy is 9 months old.  Today he wore a little tracksuit and I swear he aged a few months.  He is scooting all around and getting to be pretty fast, although he barely uses his legs, instead opting for the "army crawl".  Yesterday I put him on the floor in the living room and went into the kitchen, and I could hear the thumps as he made his way toward me.  Before I knew it he was at my feet looking up at me and smiling.
Griffin has a very sweet personality that is really starting to come through.  He loves to laugh, he likes being spun around, and anything with buttons fascinates him.  Just recently discovered that if he put his cell phone inside an empty wipe container with music playing, Griffin will be enthralled.
From years of preschool I know that toys are a wasted of money; G is proof of that.  He spent 15 minutes today playing with a bowl and a wooden spoon while I cooked.  He has learned how to turn off the TV, and I have learned that giving him Justin's old Nintendo controller will keep him from pressing buttons on the receiver.
I never thought that I would think about my kid while I was at work, or certainly not that I'd look forward to getting home and playing with him.  I find myself showing pictures of him to people who did not ask to see them, and texting my mother in law from work to ask her for pictures when I miss him.  Motherhood is so interesting; it can soften a person in ways they never imagined but also make that same person feel so strong.  Both giving birth itself and the protective feeling that you could flatten a linebacker if they tried to harm your kid are very empowering, strengthening experiences.  At the same time, I now look at the children I work with and realize how recently they too were babies.  I suppose it's the balance of strong and soft, of protector and nurturer that sets women apart, and probably also makes us the more "complicated" sex. 
At any rate, I am grateful for the opportunity to be a mom to this amazing kid.  I can't wait to see what he does next.

Shana Tova

Tis the season that for a fleeting moment I come ou tof the fog of my everyday life and remember that I am a Jew.  The high holidays are upon us; known to many in my life as those days that we all flood the synagogues and assuage our guilt for not participating in much of a Jewish life all year.  This year I am feeling a different drive to celebrate and I can only it's assume it's because I now have a little boy.

As a child, I attended Hebrew school and became a Bat Mitzvah at the age of 13.  I did all of this because I was supposed to and because (I can only assume) my parents felt I was supposed to.  I remember missing out on things (most notably cheerleading tryouts in the sixth grade!) because I had to go to Hebrew school three times a week.  I can only imagine how different my life would be now had I made the squad...maybe I'd be married to a football player and have a couple of jock kids by now!  Doubtful, since I have never had much in the way of physical coordination!

As a teenager, when my parents were divorcing and my world seemed to be imploding, the thing only place I felt any sense of belonging was at my Jewish youth group, Midrasha.  My oldest friends attended, and that of course was where I met Justin.  No matter what was going on in my week I would show up Wednesday nights and everything felt normal there.  A couple of teachers still stand out as being adults who actually cared about me even if I was kind of a pain in the butt.  Those people don't know it but they were influential in shaping me as a human being.

So now I have a kid.  I'm by no means a religious person, really never was.  I enjoy the traditions and the culture of Judaism, and most of those are centered around holidays and sharing traditional foods.  I remember big family dinners with my cousins who loved around the corner; always lots of drama, usually some fighting, tons of food.  Usually some groaning when we actually had to SAY SOMETHING in HEBREW.  Yes, it was a cultural experience, much less religious.

Today I am struggling with where our family will fit.  Will Griffin follow in the tradition of whining every week because he doesn't want to go to Hebrew School?  I did, but I'm SO grateful I had that in my life now. 

Monday I am starting a new tradition.  Rosh Hashanah dinner at my house with whoever would like to attend.  The worst feeling is to know that there is a celebration and to have no where to participate.  My dear friend Lisi always made sure there was a seat at the table for me on Passover, and now it is my turn to offer that to anyone who needs one on this new year celebration.

It may not be the answer to all of my questions about how to celebrate, where I fit in, and how to incorporate a Jewish life for my son, but it's a start.

Back to the blogosphere!

My new ink.  Yup.  An ocean wave.  My reminder.

I haven’t written in forever, and it began to feel daunting.  Like a homework assignment that I knew I had to work on but dreaded for no good reason, really.  My friend calls it “eating the frog”...she says you should do the task you really don’t want to do first thing so that it’s out of the way. So two months later I’m finally eating my frog, and actually not really dreading it.

A couple of weeks ago I decided I was done dwelling.  I have an amazing baby and a great husband, a job that fulfills me, incredible friends who stuck by me through some very dark moments, and most of all I have myself.  I have begun to feel like the strong, capable chick I used to feel like, before two years ago when I lost her for a while.  I can’t really explain what has changed in me but I do know I feel like I am back.  My blog got a makeover and became much more cheerful, as I am no longer in a grey place.

Most people think I’m such an open book and they know everything about me from my blog, my facebook posts, etc.  The truth is that you are able to paint any picture of yourself online through social media.  I can tell you just the things I want you to know, and omit the stuff that I know you’d probably judge me for.  It’s a manipulation of sorts even if it’s not meant to be.

I’ve learned a few things about myself and life in general over the last two years; experiencing a loss (of any kind) can teach you things. 

 I’ve learned that emotions are like waves.  They are strong and powerful.  They can knock you down if you are not careful.  You cannot push them back.  You have to be strong enough to let them wash over you and then recede back into the ocean naturally.  Whether they are sad or extreme elation, this is true.  Once they wash away you are just left with you.  If you have been knocked down by their strength you have to use your own to get back up again and face the next one.
I’ve learned that true friends don’t just go to the movies with you and play and do the fun things.  They come over uninvited when they are needed.  They yell at you when you need to hear something you aren’t hearing in an inside voice.  The will follow you wherever they need to if you need support, even inside a port a potty at a campground.  They continue to give you chances even when you are not sure that you deserve them.  They do all of this because they love you and they know that you’d do the same for them.  They listen, every morning, to the same story until you finally change it for yourself; they don’t judge you even if they are sick of hearing it.
I’ve learned that alone time is good, and necessary.  Somewhere along the line I forgot how to be by myself; silence became deafeningly loud and I needed to fill the void with people, noise, whatever.  Being alone doesn’t have to mean feeling lonely.  And even if it does feel lonely temporarily, it passes.
I’ve learned that everything truly is OK in THIS moment.  Every other moment you try to live in is either history or it’s a figment of your imagination.  Appreciating what you have in your life means living your life in the moment and not dwelling or anticipating.

All of these are things I will regularly lose sight of.  If I do, it doesn’t make me a failure any more than experiencing a miscarriage did.  The waves come and go and will until the end of time.  Awesome friends, an incredible supportive husband and the best baby ever are not enough...YOU have to be enough for yourself.  I have to be enough.  And I am.