Quiet re-re-entrance

I haven't written in a while. The last post explains quite a bit and yet nothing at all. We went on to conceive yet another and lose yet again. 3 non-viable pregnancies in less than 11 months. Needless to say, I want answers.

Every day I am grateful for the child that I have. The one I can hug and kiss and tickle every morning and every evening. And every night my heart aches a little for 3 who are not here. I wonder if I'll meet them some day. You know, if you believe in that kind of stuff.

A heady and quiet re-re-entrance to this blog.

Expected Due Date

Today was due date #1 of 2011. I thought that I was in a better place...until I walked into my office and opened my email. OCD, efficient me made an appointment today titled 'Bun.'

I think I need to go home now and pull the blankets over my head.

Really?

I forgot a whole week? Not really. I've been waiting and wondering this week. Counting days of a cycle...women trying to get pregnant know what I mean. Cross off another month. Cycle #4 since that day that rocked me to my core. Almost 4 months.

But I'm blessed. We're blessed. There is a smiling little boy in our lives that I wouldn't trade for the world.

Weekend...whoops!

So much for my streak - I skipped the weekend. But that's good, right?! That meant I was out living life and being productive...right? Or it means that I am suffering from insomnia. I want to quit my job and move away. And have another baby. And go back to school.

I just heap the stress on myself.

*take a bow*

Friday!

I can't wait for tonight!!!!! Girls night in and then the husband returns! Single parents...I have no idea how you get through your days without taking speed.

Fingers and Toes

Dear Diary,

My fingers and toes are crossed. I've been praying for 2 days straight. Please, let this be our moment. Husband, be yourself - and people will be impressed. I believe in you.

Dreaming about mittens in the Mitten.

Sigh of relief

Dear Dad,

I'm glad you're okay. I wish I lived closer so that I could help you and mom out. It scares me to think that you're getting older and that you may not be around...will you see your grandson go to Kindergarten? Will you see him graduate from high school? And then I start counting. You probably won't see him graduate from college.

That's a difficult reality to face.

I don't tell you enough - I love you.

Dad

Dear Dad,

Today is all about you. We need you around for a long time to come. Be well.

Love,

Your youngest

Facebook Confusion

A few hours ago my mom wrote on my Facebook wall...she mentioned an event I hadn't heard of and a person that I didn't know...I've never been so confused.

And she isn't answering the phone so I can't figure out this gibberish.

Parents are weird.

Compression

I wouldn't mind a new pair of compression tights, too bad they cost almost $150. I certainly could use a new pair of running shoes...I ordered a pair and they are too small. My current shoes now feel too small. Did I make them smaller subconsciously?

The dog is allergic to something. Her eyes are swollen and red. Poor sweet puppy.

I am reading 3 different books right now...they are very, very different from one another.

Fiscal Friday

Who spent all of our money? I could blame the oil change and the vet bill...but then I see how over budget we are in the restaurant and coffee categories, and the 'everything else' line item. I spent all of our money (the husband did help a little).

Peanut butter and jelly for the next 2.5 weeks.

Awesome.

Holy smokes

I walked in to work today and my boss had been fired. I'm not sure there is anything else I can say. Things were bad, but I'm leery about the transition...

How?

How did I get to where I am today...professionally. Personally, I wouldn't change a thing (minus 10lbs). But professionally I feel like I'm at my own personal rock bottom layer of hell.

As I stood in front of a copy machine yesterday wasting an hour of my life photocopying a BOOK for someone else I marveled that not that long ago I aspired to being a surgeon.

How did I go from aspiring med student to overpaid secretary?

In a word. Confidence. Lack of confidence.

Career fail.

What if?

The old adage, what would you do if you knew you could not fail is a little outdated...today it has become more of 'what would you do if you had unlimited resources, financial or otherwise?'

You know you're in trouble when someone asks you about the job you applied to and your response is 'boring and safe.' Sure the job would be boring and safe...it would also be a huge risk.

But the phone isn't ringing, so no one needs to panic. Unless you want to panic because the phone isn't ringing.

I want the phone to ring for him though...I want that for us.

Oh Diary, no one told me growing up would be so difficult. Thank goodness they didn't tell me.

Oops!

Nuts, I skipped a day. How did that happen? Apparently I was having so much fun I didn't turn on my computer. That's okay by me. Poor husband has a phone interview today. He's nervous. I'm nervous for him. This whole situation is making me crazy. It's also making me grow a pimple horn. Just call me unicorn. Beautiful.

In other news, my dance guru is out of town this week...sadness. I suppose I'll have to branch out and take someone else's class...*sigh*

Tired Legs

Dear Legs,

Thank you for carrying me 12 miles today. You did good today legs. I'm sorry I didn't ice you the second I got done. I'll ice you now - right after I eat that ice cream.

Dear Diary...

I really wish I had an ounce of domestic diva in me. I love all things fabric...I can't help myself. I just WISH that I knew how to sew. As in, I can't even sew a button. Partly, I've never really tried. Sewing intimidates the hell out of me. Just like all things yeast freak me out. I am intimidated by making bread. Thankfully Husband can both sew a button AND he makes delicious bread. But I'm driven.

I'm trying my hand at bread next week. Mark my words...there will be bread.

As for the sewing...oh, diary...let's make a little promise, okay? This weekend I will try to cut fabric in a straight line.

Conflicted

Dear Diary,

Everything we wanted is getting closer to attainable...so why do I feel so conflicted? Oh yeah, I hate change. I hate moving, even though I don't like our house. Rentals always kind of suck. I'm getting ahead of myself. No one has promised us anything. But the carrots are starting to dangle in front of our noses. The possibilities are palpable.

And I sit on the edge...conflicted. And more than a little scared.

One Step

Dear Diary,

I got us one step closer to moving home yesterday. Phone interviews are the worst, but I suppose it went well enough. I'm worried I won't get an offer. I'm worried that I will get an offer. A couple of years ago I vowed that I would never be the one to uproot our family again. Reality may prove otherwise. I don't know what to hope for at the moment.

In other news, I read 'Marley and Me' last night. The whole book in one sitting. I sobbed like a baby and proceeded to lay in bed petting Lu for hours. Silly dogs. They hold our hearts captive. Moving home is a promise we made to Lu when we first moved South. She's a northern girl, just like her mama.

Anxiety Cleanse

Dear Diary,

If you want an all natural colon cleanse, just have an anxiety attack. Cheap fix.

Overshare? Not sorry.

7 day forecast

Dear Diary,

I will be a better employee, rather than letting things get a little lax. When I'm bored, it shows. Time to put on the mask. Husband is planning a trip to work on job contacts. Hopefully we'll be home for Christmas...hope springs eternal.

Monkey man has been 'huggy' lately. And I love it. He's worried about his new classroom at school and it makes him cling to us a bit more. He'll adjust, but for now I love that he wants to snuggle in close every once in a while. I miss that.

I have baby fever. It is in direct conflict with marathon fever.

Sigh.

Dear Heart

Dear Diary,

My dad hasn't been well lately. He's been falling asleep a lot and generally keeping to himself. He didn't tell my mom about the latest angina...until his stress test went poorly. The stent that they put in his carotid last year has either collapsed or there is a new block. He's been visiting the cardiologist for 18 years. 18 years. My grandpa had great genes. Lived into his 90s. My grandma died at 72. My dad turns 70 this year.

Looks like my panic attack last night was a bit of a premonition for tonight's sleep.

Day 6 - I'm on a roll

Dear Day 6,

I ran 10 miles this morning. My legs are achy. I started my period. I'm happy that I'm not pregnant so I can continue marathon training. I'm sad that I'm not pregnant. 2011 has been tough. The husband might not get paid on Friday if the government doesn't figure out the budget. This would make life rather challenging. Good thing we have enough diapers in the house. Government shut-down threats are getting kind of old. He needs a new job because this crap is ridiculous. We have it better than a lot of people though...so I guess I shouldn't complain.

Thankful we have jobs. And health insurance.

What day is it? 5?

Dear Diary,

It's early...not much has happened yet. Last night's run was a scorcher...that isn't really news. I've been a crampy monster the last couple of days. Hopefully this means I'm not pregnant. Pregnancy would really ruin marathon training. Then again I wouldn't mind another bundle. 2011 hasn't been a good year for that though. Apparently my hormones are making me a little melancholy.

Sigh.

In good news I have the sweetest little family in the world.

Dear Day 4

Dear Day 4,

I miss my people. I think that's the pull to go back home. To relocate our little family back home. We're taking steps to make it happen and it scares the hell out of me and I start to think about what we would leave behind here in terms of outlets (DANCE) and opportunities...I can talk myself into and out of anything. but then I read about Charlie. And I think of the Charlie I lost. And I think of the smiles on the faces of old friends. And the peace that I find at our church. And the old running routes along the river. And I know we're doing the right thing.

The scary, risky, right thing.

And I schedule the interview for next week and hold my breath.

Day 3

Got an email about a job...terrified and excited about the prospects. Being a grown up is scary. OMG if we moved I wouldn't be able to dance. That makes me sad. But we would get to vacation again...eventually. The husband needs an offer so that the weight isn't baring down on my shoulders - I know they are broad but this is nuts.

Hanging on by a thread, bundle of nerves.

Dear Diary, Day 2

Day 2

Monkey's new phrase is 'walk away.' Like when he is upset with you for trying to help put on his shoes or if he wants to be by himself he tells us to 'walk away.' Wouldn't it be great if we could tell others to walk away...perhaps it would be even better if we knew when we ourselves should just walk away. There's a thought. In other news I'm on page 600 in The Pillars of the Earth - good book, but very long. I wonder if the library reshelved my 'hold' book. Guess I'll find out today.

One Thousand Gifts and a Thirty Day Challenge

One Thousand Gifts - a post I happened upon thanks to an old blog I used to read. The part that stands out the most is that it focuses on the gifts we HAVE rather than the gifts we want. A lesson in gratitude is always a good thing.

AND

A thirty day challenge of writing...dear diary style, nothing too terribly difficult or profound. But 30 days of commitment to my reality. Things may get emotional here for a little bit!

Day 1
A mentor's email took me off guard...sure the market is tough, but the husband and I want to go home. Taking Monkey to the ENT today, really hoping that he doesn't need tubes. The thought of having him knocked out for this procedure is enough to make tears sting my eyes. Thank goodness I have a dance class tonight to center myself...anticipating bad news is never a good plan.

Finnegan Begin Again

I read a fantastic post about writers today - what it takes to be a writer...as in, what can I do to be a better writer. The response was refreshingly frank and cut to the quick. To be a better writer you must write. A lot. Sometimes we (I) forget that the way to improve at something is by working at it. I am a better runner when I run consistently. I am a better dancer when I attend classes regularly. My technique improves with practice...and persistent practice...and perfect practice.

There have been times lately that I have half-assed my way through my 8-5. Too many times to count and I am disappointed. This is not the professional life that I dreamed of, but it is my reality and until my reality changes I must push forward and BE better about my work ethic. If I am not given the opportunity to develop skills, I must SEEK the opportunity. Rarely are things handed down on a silver platter.

As I look at the different areas of my life, I wonder where I need to improve and where I want to improve. I NEED to improve my fiscal responsibility...and I WANT to do so as well. I WANT to improve my waistline (preferably in the minimization aspect), but I do not NEED to lose 20lbs. I NEED to be physically active ~5 days a week for my mental well-being and I WANT to be a better dancer and runner. I WANT a new career path and I NEED to create a plan of action.

So what does that have to do with writing?

I don't know, but I know that by writing things down I find clarity. The pen (or the keyboard) becomes a compass, allowing me to find my true north. Create a path toward a new reality. An instrument of change, a tool of introspection. When I do the things that I enjoy, the world becomes clearer...and cloudier. If I did A, then I could not afford to do B.

And we're back to money.

Someone asked me my least favorite question the other day: If you could do anything, what would it be? (in the professional sense)

God if I know. It's been such a long time since I've allowed that thought to sit and fester for very long because it always comes down to 'how much will this cost?'. I can sit here and tell you what I told him, which is what I enjoy and what I am good at...or I could sit here and really think about it. REALLY think about it.

The answer is inconclusive; I keep coming up with variables. Where do I live? Do I have $$ in the bank? Am I done having kids? What is my husband doing? Do I have the talent already?

So, I suppose if I remove the variables (metaphorically of course), what would I do if I could do anything?

Travel to Italy and find myself...I think...