On This Day, in a Year That Shall Not be Disclosed

Like most little girls, I was precious, sweet, smart, and a little, shall we say, opinionated. Hmm, reminds me of a little boy I know...My mom really never had to tell me to clean my room or do my homework. I just did. Like most teen age girls, I battled my mom occasionally on rules, and there was one incident that resulted in me being grounded for a month w/o driving privileges. For the most part, I didn't really become a hard, stress causing, heart attack causing potential until college. Then, I really made up for a pretty well behaved childhood.

I think most mothers and daughters have their rocky years. I do not know if my mom and I have more or less than normal. I do know she is the best mom anyone could have, even if I didn't always know it.

When I was young, my mom worked 2nd shift as a RN in ICU, and often picked up every OT shift offered. I was about 13 when she switched to the Same Day Surgery Unit, and 1st shift hours. My mom often says she wishes she had those hours when we were younger. I don't feel I missed out on anything, but I am sure she has mom guilt about time spent. She shouldn't, she raised two outstanding (well, pretty good) kids.

Needless to say, I remember my mom coming home at midnight only to leave again at 5am for another shift. I remember Kelly (our babysitter for at least a decade) just heating up our dinners. It wasn't until I was much older, that I realized my mom cooked those meals in the early morning hours, so Kelly just had to heat them up. I am pretty sure my mom cried when Kelly found a "real" job.

I guess when you have two small children and you want to give them the best, your work ethic takes over, so your checking account can do what you need it to. My brother and I were spoiled, although at the time I don't think we knew it. I don't remember wanting for anything: I had the "in" shoes, the "in" back pack, the "in" headbands, we went clothes shopping every summer, and I don't remember "Santa" disappointing. Actually, to show you just how good "Santa" was to us, I know I didn't get a Cheer Bear Care Bear because "Santa" couldn't find one. I remember this to this day, because in all honesty, it's probably the only thing I wanted that I didn't get. My mom remembered it too, because several years ago I received an over sized Cheer Bear Care Bear.

I became fully appreciative and fully aware of my mom's sacrifices when I became a mother. I had always known what a good mom I had, but I didn't realize what an exceptionally outstanding mom I had until Gabriel was born. I remember having so much pain after my c-section (I prefer pain to the nausea prescribed pain pills cause me) that I told my mom I was afraid I wouldn't be able to move quick enough, if say, the house caught on fire. My mom just folded the baby clothes she had washed for me and said: "yes, you will because that's what a mother does. You won't think about the pain if you have to protect your baby." I realized for the 2nd time in a week that I was her baby. The first time I found myself doing laundry at 2am, I wanted to call her and say guess what I am doing? I knew she had done the same.

When I applied to graduate school the essay topic was simple: Why Do You Want To Attend This Program? My response started: Each generation wants to do better for the next, each parent wants to provide more than they had. Let me tell you about my mother.

Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you.

Confessions

In true blog etiquette, I have decided to make a few confessions...so here goes...my very important confessions.

1. I have never watched American Idol, nor do I ever plan to. Yes, I know who Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and Jennifer Hudson are. Did I see them perform on the show? No. Can I name anyone else from the show? No. Do I care about any of this? No.

2. Sometimes when I blast the stereo, I feel bad for some of my music selections since there are two young kids that live next to me...and maybe they shouldn't hear Sublime...Eminem, Jay Z...

3. I only know who Snookie and Pauly D are from reading People and US Weekly. While channel surfing, I stopped on the Jersey Shore show, and after 20 seconds, quickly changed it as I couldn't believe this is what television has become...or that people actually live this way.

4. I normally wash my hair every 3-4 days because it is very thick and curly, washing it more often dries out my scalp and my hair. So if I ever tell you I can't do something because I have to wash my hair, I am lying.

5. Real Housewives? Puhlease! I understand this is quit an entertaining train wreck. But I refuse to watch because the name of the show is misleading. Are any of these women actually taking care of their own kids? Scrubbing floors? Cooking dinner? Do they even do community work or serve on the PTA? The show should be called (with maybe a few exceptions) Trophy Wives Gone Bad.

6. Even though I have a dog, I can't stand barking. It drives me insane. That being said, I talk to my dog all the time and yes he understands me. Really, he does. Why are you making that face?

7. At first, I thought the Teem Mom show on MTV could be a good thing, open up some dialogue between parents and kids that otherwise may not have happened; let kids see how hard this thing called child rearing really is. However, it seems that instead it has managed to bring to light a very troubling epidemic: girls with such low self esteem and self worth that they purposely try to get pregnant to have a chance to land a spot on a MTV show. Makes me miss the days when MTV just had videos.

8. I brush my teeth for entirely too long, but I just can't stop. If I don't brush for at least 2 minutes, I feel like my teeth are dirty. However, I rarely floss. Oops. I also still have nightmares that a bridge that was put in when I was in 9th grade (I didn't have my two front bottom adult teeth) is going to come out. I make the dentist check it at every cleaning.

9. I don't watch The Biggest Loser anymore because I cried at least once during every episode.

10. I love the E-Trade commercial where the baby is in timeout for riding the dog. I sometimes rewind it and watch it a few times.

Will the Defendant Please Rise

I have made no attempts at hiding my immature and lost early adulthood. I've made no attempts to be deceitful regarding bad decisions I previously made, or irresponsible behavior. I often site examples from my early 20s when talking a friend through a bad time or trying to remind someone that things can and normally do work out--if you learn from your mistakes and try your best. Those of you who went to college with me, probably remember some examples. Some of you probably think you were privy to most of my downfall, but let me tell you, you only saw the tip of the iceberg. It was far, far worse.

I've clawed my way back up from my rock bottom only to find myself falling again. Only this time, it was out of my hands. So why do I feel like I constantly have to defend myself? It's hard enough to have to keep standing up when you are broken, bruised, and battered from falling. It's even harder when you have to defend yourself while standing up.

Yesterday, I was informed that perhaps my two lay offs were my own fault. Maybe something I did caused my particular lay offs. I had no idea I had the kind of power necessary to cause law firms nationwide to cancel summer programs. Or the power to cause a company, which never adjusted to the economic downturn, to hit a downfall when many were rebounding. I wish I had known about this power, maybe I could have used it to find a job already?

Now had this conversation taken place 10 years ago, 8 years ago, I would say absolutely would it have been my fault. Of course 10 or 8 years ago, I wouldn't have said that, but you understand my point. You see, back then I was known to not show up at things, to be irresponsible. It really hurt that as hard as I have worked and as far as I have come in the last 10 years, I still needed to defend myself.

Am I always perfect now? Of course not. Who can say they are? I am, however, a far better person than I was 10 years ago, 5 years ago, even 2 years ago. I could get better at housekeeping. I did it much better after my first lay off. I think because I wasn't having as hard of a time then. Vacuuming didn't make me think about the carpet I wanted to replace, dusting didn't make me think about the furniture I don't have, or the walls I wanted to paint. I was sure at any moment I'd go back to work and I didn't want my house to be dirty. Maybe because I had all these little organization projects I could finally get done.

Do I lose my temper? I am not proud to say, but yes, sometimes I do. Especially now when I am operating on such a short fuse. Stress causes fights. Money causes fight. Stress over money causes household wars. If you think most marriages fail due to a cheating spouse, think again. Most marriages fail due to financial stress.

Do I have days that my bed seems to have magnetic powers as I fight depression? Of course, I am unemployed, I am broke, and I often feel alone. There are only so many times you can say no to Bob Evans before you just don't want to think about bacon anymore (and really I think about bacon all the time, so this is pretty serious).

Am I irresponsible? No. If anything I could stand to have a little more fun. To not constantly be thinking in outline form, to stop thinking about point B before I have finished with point A, to not clean up at parties that aren't at my house, to say no when people ask for help or favors.

Am I immature? A few days ago I would have answered this with a no. However, in the last 72 hours I hit a breaking point, which caused me to do and say some very immature things and they weren't exactly said in a nice even tone topped with sugar. Maybe that is not immaturity, maybe it's just breaking. But it seems like breaking causes immaturity.

Every day I spend hours looking for jobs and applying for jobs. Looking for a job, is a job in itself. I schedule all interviews I am offered, even if they are far away locations (hello, Streetsboro and Highland Heights). I go through the process with everything because something is better than nothing, even if that something is 40 minutes away, gas prices are over $4, and I have a SUV. I had an interview Monday, I have another interview Friday, one on Monday, and one on Tuesday. Plus, I am waiting to hear back from 2 places regarding the next interview. I have a lot in the works, the lengthy processes are just not on the side of my checking account. For someone to say I am doing nothing, irks me.

Today, I am going to follow my normal look for jobs routine, but then I am going to do some housework. I am going to start by cleaning the window pains. I am not going to think about the carpet I'd like to replace or the walls I'd like to paint while I clean. That serves no purpose but to further my depression. I will instead think of a sunny day with a high of 80 and the fact that there is bacon in my freezer. I am not going to think about the doubters, I don't have time to waste on people who don't believe in me. I have bedding to wash.

From Lost to Found

I knew I was a mom, when mother nature informed me with a late cycle. I was late. I was never late. A million thoughts went through my head. We weren't trying, but we obviously weren't doing so great at preventing.

A few days later, while walking in the drug store, I casually walked down the aisle, where the pregnancy tests would be. I shouted behind me, I need a pregnancy test. M said nothing. We drove home, the sun was shining, I looked out the window. I knew it would be positive.

At home we unloaded our purchases and then I went to take the test. It was positive. I shouted from the bathroom to M, who was rooms away: I'm pregnant. In hindsight, I could have at least entered the room he was in. Maybe even taken the test and then handed him one of those "you are going to be a dad cards". I think Hallmark makes them.

You become a mother the minute you know you are expecting. I talked to G (even before I knew he'd be G) all the time in my head. I followed What to Expect When You are Expecting like it was my job. I asked a ton of questions at doctor's appointments. I refused medicine when sick, caffeine when thirsty. I refused the epidural, until a c-section left me no choice but anesthesia.

From the minute I held G (which wasn't immediate due to the c-section--I was actually the 5th person to hold him counting my doctor, a nurse, M, and M's best friend), I wanted nothing but the best for him. His birth turned a lost 25 year old girl into a grown 25 year old woman, who would find her purpose and path in life because her son needed her to. G gave me purpose, he gave me willpower, he gave me hope and desire to figure it all out.

I want G to have all the opportunities and all the advantages I had, I want him to have better. Let's be honest, this is a hard adventure to undertake. I will not give up, not even now. I won't be a lost 33 year old. I lost my job, not my pride (as the song says), not my willpower, not my hope, not my desire. Not my motherhood. I get out of bed everyday because G needs me. I get out of bed everyday because the suit in me likes making waffles just as much as drawing up policies.

I can't even begin to write about the sacrifices my mom made for both my brother and I. I can't even begin to say how she has shaped me as not only a woman, but as a mother. I can only hope that some day when Gabriel starts dating, marries, and has kids that he will look back and think the same regarding me. It doesn't matter what else I accomplish in my life, as long as I do right by him.

If you can survive here

I was speaking with a headhunter today regarding a possible position in a very interesting atmosphere. I use the word interesting for lack of a better word and also to save confidentiality as the replacement is confidential. She said: "what I like about your resume" and I interrupted and said "is that I have worked at many law firms and like the saying goes--if you can survive a law firm, you can work anywhere." She laughed and said exactly, and you have worked at more than one firm. You are obviously strong." No, the job is not at a firm.

We had spoken for about 20 minutes prior to this revelation and I had a good feel for what she was thinking (call it the recruiting intuition). She was direct, to the point, and very business like. Plus, she called me at 9pm. I liked her.

However, the conversation and what she said got me thinking. If you can survive working in a firm (and several in my case), you can work anywhere. You are obviously very strong.

While I do feel I could probably work in any environment in which I found myself, I don't necessarily want to. Just like, I can (some days better than others) deal with the bad hand life sometimes deals me, but I don't really want to. While I know that life is not always easy, and that it has its challenges, I can't help but wonder does it ever end? Is there such a thing as normal? With everything that has happened in my last 2 years, I am beginning to doubt such a thing as normal exists. Perhaps, this is my normal?

If this is my normal, what lesson am I supposed to learn? What more am I supposed to give? Accomplish? Realize? To be honest, the lesson of life is taking its tole on me. The circles under my eyes are becoming ingrained into my otherwise very nice skin. My already thin patience is becoming anorexic.

I am trying very hard to meet success with humility, to encounter misfortune without bitterness or defeat. But it is very hard. Some days I feel like all my strength is gone and all I want to do is go back to bed. I've been at war with the "higher being" for some time now. I am not sure such a being exists. I have been questioning this in a very agnostic way. It's hypocritical in some ways--my son attends a religious school and attends church most Sundays. I still have icons in my house and every now and then I find myself praying.

I am a very stubborn person. I am not ready to cave. Lately, I have been wondering, if perhaps, life is waiting for me to cave before it turns around.

Define Defining

Everyone has a story. Magazines will run contests: tell us about what you have overcome. Radio stations will have contests: tell us who your hero is and will send him/her on a spa vacation.

The truth is every one of us has been there, done that, or knows someone who has. We have all had our moments of depression, hair pulling anxiety, never ending tears, feelings of hopelessness. So maybe we all haven't had a cocaine addiction, or had to live on the streets, or been in an abusive relationship, but we all have something. We all have that thing or things that have defined our lives, defined who we have become, or who we are trying to be, or maybe just who we were.

I don't know one person who has never lost a loved one, who has never had a broken heart, who hasn't struggled financially at one time or another. I can't think of a single person who seems to have a cake walk life. Everyone has something. That one thing you take for granted could be the exact same thing someone else is losing sleep over.

The other day, I was thinking about what I would write if asked about my defining moment, my victory over an obstacle, my moment of hair pulling anxiety and never ending tears. While in deep thought regarding this, it occurred to me that I could not write about just one thing. My story would be multiple events, a rolling history of me, if you will. Some may call this simply: life.

Isn't that what life is after all? Isn't it a series of ups and downs, joys and sorrows, sunshine and rain, yin and yang, Optimus vs. Megatron? A journey.

Gobble, Gobble; No, No; Well Maybe

In an effort to be healthier, G and I decided to try some turkey bacon. You see, if you ask the child what mommy loves more than bacon, he will respond "pretty much just me". He's kinda right.

We purchased two different brands of turkey bacon and quickly went to work. We pan cooked it, we broiled it, and we baked it. This was new territory for both of us, so we followed the cooking instructions.

The fact that I could bake it did not sit well with me, you are not supossed to bake bacon...although I will say it was the easiest way. I did not like the pan cooking method. The lack of shrivel made me feel like I wasn't cooking it correctly. It didn't shrivel up with a ton of grease oozing out showing its crispy fattiness, and extra yumminess. There was not a greasy sizzle saying "pay attention to me", it was more a heat sizzle that said "whatever, I'm bored".

The dog didn't even come into the kitchen when we were cooking.

I fixed a small plate for each of us making sure to put some of each cooking type on each plate. G is a very finicky eater at times, so I was slightly worried about the money I just wasted on this healthier choice. I brought him his plate and tried my share in a different room, so I wouldn't influence his taste buds.

I did not care for this gobble gobble bacon. I felt like I was eating thinly sliced cooked ham, not turkey, and definitely not bacon. My taste buds said "whatever, I'm bored". I did what any 5 year old would do, I gave mine to the dog.

G, on the other wing, asked for a second plate. I guess I will continue to purchase this gobble bacon as G will eat it, and I want him to eat healthy. However, I will not be eating it again. I like my bacon with all the fat and all the grease. I like the sizzle.