me me me Archives - Page 18 of 37

Jun 14, 2010

Missing: One Blogger’s Personality. Reward If Found.

So, um…yeah.

I’ve had several posts about the kids lately, but what about me?

Hmmm…yeah, what about me?

Truth is, I’ve been stumbling through every day, thinking only as far ahead as the next time I get to sleep and generally not much further than that. When times get tough, I tend to retreat inwards and shell-up, and while times aren’t exactly tough at the moment, my turtle senses apparently have been activated.

I can’t write about work. The nature of my work prevents me from sharing much about it, other than to say I really do enjoy it and have talked to some amazing new parents on the phone. I’ve done a lot of reassuring and a lot of educating, and I hope my words will help these parents find confidence in their own abilities to care for their newborns.

Other than work, my life is kind of lacking at the moment. My spare time is spent sleeping and spending a little time with my family while downing Pepsi Max to keep me awake. Aaron is still unemployed, so I also help him job hunt. When I have time to sit down, I’m zoning out to Netflix or knitting or just reading along with conversations on Twitter and Facebook, unable to find anything to add to the conversation.

How did I become so boring? I don’t even find myself interesting at the moment, so why in the world would I expect you to find me so?

I don’t think I’m depressed – I think I’m just short on time and energy. And I know that lack of time and energy affects my friendships, both online and in person. I’ve yet to figure out how to have it all and do it all, and admire those I know that make it look effortless. I can’t even handle working full-time and remembering to feed the kids – how do others manage to work, keep a clean house, take care of kids AND nurture all of the relationships around them?

Blogging is all about making connections, and I’ve started to feel like my limited availablity has strained some of those connections. Honestly, how hard is it to write a damn e-mail to say hi to people now and then? Surely I can do that much, right? I’ll be at BlogHer, though, and I’m determined to renew some of those connections and friendships, even if it means taking the big step of admitting I’m a lousy friend and apologizing for all of the internet silence of late.

Actually, I’m hoping that while at BlogHer I’ll find the real Christina again. I think she got left behind at BlogHer in Chicago last year, and I’m hoping that she’s resourceful enough to find her way to New York City by early August. I’m not expecting to find her at any private parties or swag suites – after all, this blog’s market value has fallen faster than California real estate prices – but I do expect to find her talking and listening and hugging old friends and greeting new ones and learning from others and sharing what little she knows to benefit others and running with women who helped motivate her to be better and simply enjoying the people she’s surrounded by. (Including way more than I have time to even link here.)

If you see the real me at BlogHer, be sure to say hi to her. I guarantee she’ll be more interesting than this poor excuse for a post. And then remind her that despite all of the challenges of work and family, her ability to craft a good story and be a friend to those around her is desperately needed at home.

Filed Under: me me me ·

May 10, 2010

Quality Time

By Christina ·

It’s a tradition in my family to always pick out funny cards for any occasion, including Mother’s Day. So I was quite proud of my accomplishment this year, when I selected a card that read on the outside: “Mom, now that I’m a parent, I understand what you went through in raising me…” On the inside: “Hell. Happy Mother’s Day.”

I know I wasn’t the easiest kid to deal with, and I’m glad my mom had the patience to deal with a kid who was really too smart for her own good.

I never suspected that my mother had any regrets in how she raised me. After all, I graduated near the top of my class, attended a well-respected university where I graduated with honors, spent a summer studying in England, married, bought a house, and gave birth to two beautiful daughters of my own. Sure, I’ve got my share of problems, too, but I thought mom had to be pretty proud of her job as mother. In fact, I often wondered how I could ever measure up to her standard in raising my own children.

A few years ago, mom gave me a small piece of advice that made me realize that no matter how well we do, guilt can plague any mother. I don’t remember how the conversation came up, but at one point she became very serious and told me, “Just promise me one thing: when your daughter is sick, take your sick time and be with her. Because no matter what’s going on at work, no matter your deadlines or how much people say they need you to come in that day, they don’t need you as much as your kid.”

Truer words never spoken.

My mom went on to say that she regrets not staying home with me more when I was sick. Instead, she would go to work, believing that they needed her more at work. She usually called in my grandmother to be with me for the day. But she was right – I didn’t want my grandmother, I wanted my mom. My mom was the one I felt most comfortable with, and even though it was the same Campbell’s canned soup, chicken-noodle soup somehow tasted better when my mom made it.

When she retired a few years ago, she had nearly a year of sick time saved up from her 30 years of service. One year. And she could only cash out a tiny fraction of that time. She looked at that lost time as lost opportunity to be with me when I needed her. I’ve tried to tell her that I understood that she needed to work, but I don’t think she’s fully forgiven herself for it. I sometimes think she is trying to make up for that time by spending more time with her granddaughters now.

And so I’ve taken her advice and vowed to spend as much quality time with Cordy and Mira as I can. When one of them is sick, I do all I can to be there for them. And I remember that work will come and go, but nothing can replace the comfort a mother can provide to her children.

Happy Mother’s Day, mom. You probably don’t believe me, but I do actually hear your advice. Sometimes I even follow it. And I want you to know that while we may not have had as much time together as we both would have liked when I was a kid, it was always quality time.

me & my mom, 1976

Filed Under: family time, love, me me me, memories ·

Apr 26, 2010

You Take The Good, You Take The Bad, You Take Them Both and Then You Have…

By Christina ·

…a lot of suck if you’re us.

(What? You were expecting Facts of Life?)

As usual, things were going far too well to last. I have a new job I love, Aaron really liked his job, and Cordy was on the list for three different schools we liked for kindergaten.

And then we got word early last week that in our school system’s lottery, Cordy didn’t get into any of the schools we wanted for her. None, including her current one. We were disappointed, but we also felt like we still had options. With both of us working, we could consider private school if we had to.

And then Aaron was told in the middle of the week that the volume of work was looking slow for his company, and while they’d love to keep him, there’s just not enough work to go around, and to consider himself laid off as of May 7. He was devastated. Not only about losing a job, but losing a job he really liked, one he planed to stay with for some time to come.

You could argue at this point that we’re cursed. The thought has crossed my mind from time to time. Or you could point out that disappointment is just a learning experience in life. In which case, I think I’ve now got my Bachelors in Life by now, and I’m really OK with not pursuing the PhD.

I was upset by all the bad news last week. It didn’t seem fair – we were making plans to pay off debt and finally get ahead for once. We were prepared to pay for private school to make sure Cordy could get the best education despite her autism. And now our plans have come to a halt again.

I’m not letting myself dwell in disappointment for too long. I don’t have time for that. Aaron will find another job, and hopefully he will enjoy it as much or more than his previous one. I’m a little worried about being without health insurance (again) – my job is a contract, and we had planned that he would get benefits by the end of May. That plan is no longer valid, so we’ll have to look into private plans, because $1700 for COBRA is, well, outrageous.

As for Cordy, I had a little talk with the school district and she will now be allowed to stay at her current school for next year. I had to pull out her IEP and argue on the basis of consistency to make sure her name was on the list, but it worked. (OK, I feel a little guilty at using her special needs to force a spot, but it’s for her good, so why not let it help us for once?)

And the debt we planned to pay off, the home improvements we planned to save for, etc.? It will all happen on a slower timeline now, or in some cases will be put on hold to wait for better times. I won’t dwell on the negative, because that gets us nowhere. Far better to focus my energy on finding new opportunities and plan for the next time the stars align in our favor again.

The facts of our life? Karma seems to enjoy teasing us, but I’ll continue to smile back in response.

Filed Under: Aaron, Cordy, daily life, fate laughing at me, me me me, school, the J-O-B ·

Apr 1, 2010

Not An April Fool’s Day Joke

By Christina ·

Something I haven’t had the chance to share here (until now) is that starting today, I’ve got a new job. Yeah, I know, I didn’t really mention anything before today, but that was mostly because I wanted to make sure it was a done deal before shouting it to the heavens.

It’s not that I disliked my other job, because the truth is I really do like mother/infant nursing. I was less comfortable with labors, but I think I rocked the mother/infant part of my job. But it was an hour-long drive. And the 12 hour shifts left me feeling drained, so that even on my days off I felt like sleeping all the time.

More importantly, we’re working to get Cordy involved in more activities and social skills classes. Which requires a lot of after-school time. And money. In my old job, I had to leave for work soon after Cordy got off the bus, leaving no time for these extra activities. Aaron would then take over care of the girls in the evening. It’s hard to take Cordy to therapy when Mira doesn’t appreciate being dragged along.

So it was a hard choice, but an opportunity presented itself that I couldn’t refuse. My new position is here in Columbus and is a short drive from my house. It’s eight-hour days. And it pays much better. In all, it provides everything we need at this time. If I’m going to work full-time, then I might as well make sure it’s the perfect fit for me and my family, right?

I’ll also still be working with moms and babies, only in a less hands-on manner. I’m going to be one of several nurses working on a support hotline for new parents, where parents can call or e-mail with any infant feeding questions, be it breastfeeding, formula feeding, or solids. I’ll know more after my first day of orientation today, but so far everything about this new initiative sounds awesome, and I’m hoping it’ll be a huge success.

Sure, I’ll miss the hands-on care I enjoyed in a hospital setting, and I’m planning to find some occasional work on a mother/infant unit to keep my clinical skills from getting too rusty. But I don’t feel bad about this job change – it was necessary for my family and for me, and everything fell into place so quickly that it felt like it was meant to be.

Wish me luck on my first day!

Filed Under: me me me, the J-O-B ·

Mar 9, 2010

Seven Years

By Christina ·

On this day, seven years ago, I promised to forever love and be faithful to the long-haired hippie I met at the renaissance faire on a hot summer day in 1998.

I’m proud of the family we’ve created in spite of the struggles we’ve faced along the way. We may not always share the same vision for the future, but we do share a determination to find our own path. Together.

Happy anniversary, Aaron. I hope seven years is only a small fraction of the many years we’ll be granted to grow and love together.