Re-charged

I love being a mom. I love my kids. I love my job. I love my husband. But boy have I been tired.

Matt and I don't live close to any of our family so time alone has been pretty non-existent since Sam was born. Juggling jobs and kids and the house and everything that comes along with all of that left us a little flat. Left me going through the motions more often than I would like.

So when Matt got the opportunity to head to Aspen for work (a hard assignment covering the Food and Wine Classic) and Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny agreed to watch the kids, we booked the first flight out and the last flight back.

Victoria's Amazing latte, me and my culinary idol Jose Andres, Lunch - wine included

Matt had to work during the days so I did some walking along some beautiful Aspen trails, window shopped along the amazing Aspen shops, people watched, drank amazing lattes (Thank you Victoria's), sipped yummy wines and had leisurely lunches and read some good books. I even got to rub elbows with a couple of my favorite celebrity chefs.

Some beautiful views and a refreshed Mom and Dad

The evenings were spent reconnecting with Matt. Sharing meals and wine and conversation that went beyond diapers and bed times and the daily doings of our two little monsters. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of talking about the kids, but also plenty of talking -- just talking. It was nice. And I think it is just what we needed.

I drowned myself in the clean Mountain Air, stuck my feet in the Roaring Fork River, spent some time inside my own head and enjoyed not having deadlines or schedules or anyone but me to answer too. It's been a very long time since I had that kind of time to myself.

I missed the kids. I missed the kids like crazy. Grandma Barb would send us videos each day which both made my heart swell and sting at the same time.

But the time away was rejuvenating.  Even though we got in late Sunday night (or actually very early Monday morning), I have a renewed energy, especially when it comes to being a mom.

We are so very grateful for Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny and this opportunity they gave us to recharge.  And the boys . . . well they had the time of their life.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Grandma and Grandpa may have spoiled them just a little :-).  They have decided they no longer like to wear pants.  They talk more, run more, climb more.  I swear they grew like whole years while we were gone. 

My monkeys -- sans pants!

Get a Grip

May.

May is just a hard, stressful month for me.  There's a lot of good in May, but it all seems to be overtaken by my mom's death.  It hangs over me and the month sucks the energy right out of me.

Compound that with three weekends out of town, over 70 hours in the car with two toddlers, cleaning out my parent's house and a really heavy workload.  May has kicked my ass. 

To cope, I gave up taking care of me.  When something had to give, I gave up my time to walk.  When my emotions took over I gave up counting points in return for the comfort of a glass (or two) of wine and not-so-good-for-me food. 

It felt good in the moment.  But today I'm feeling sluggish and a wee bit depressed that I let things get this far away from me.  So I went and bought a cookie. 

Yup -- My name is Amanda and I am an emotional eater.

But I felt like crap.  And that cookie tasted like crap.  And you know what, that cookie didn't make me feel any less crappier so I threw two thirds of it in the trash.  It's time for me to get a grip.  There are only a couple more short days left to May and I need to get myself back on track.  Enough wallowing.  Enough giving into the stress.  Enough letting the depression take over.  Enough Enough Enough!

I need to take hold of things again and thrive on that feeling of accomplishment when I loose a couple of pounds.  Thrive on that pride when I meet or exceed my training goals for the week.  Thrive on taking care of myself not just catering to my downtrodden emotions.  I need to put my focus on making my body strong and healthy because when I was doing that my mind felt healthier and stronger.

So even though it's hot as hell here today, I'm going to refuse to make excuses and put my miles in.  And I swear I'm not going to pull that cookie out of the trash :-). 

Enough is Enough

I am lucky to have a lot of mommy friends - or friends that are moms.  Most of them I knew long before the idea of kids even crossed our minds.  They are all amazing women, amazing friends and REALLY amazing moms.

Some breastfed past their baby's first birthday, some struggled to make it to the 6 month mark, some struggled to get started - watching their baby loose weight - and agonized over turning to formula rather than put their baby's health at risk, and some decided that breastfeeding wasn't for them. 

New moms do what new moms do and share their struggles looking for support and understanding and compassion and advice.  I was surprised at what a struggle breastfeeding was, pretty universally, across the board.  And what makes this even harder is the pressure that society puts on new moms.  The constant messages and images that define what a "good mom" looks like, what a "good mom" does.

I've watched this pressure turn logical, brilliant, strong women inside out.

The pressure turned me inside out.  With both of my babies I was determined to breastfeed until the 6 month mark.  But with both of my babies my supply plummeted when I went back to work.  I exhausted myself pumping and feeding around the clock, while working an intense full time job.  I snuck in extra pump sessions at work, gave up my lunch break, pumped in the car on the way to and from work and dissolved into a mess when I would come home and still not have enough for the next day of day care.

Every time I added formula to a bottle to make up the difference I felt like a failure.  I felt like I was doing it wrong.  And at the 5 and a half month mark with both babies, I sobbed as I made the decision to move exclusively to formula.  A decision that was right for me, my sanity, my marriage and my kids.  But that decision made me feel ashamed, made me feel like I wasn't doing the best I could, made me feel inferior.

Where the hell does this pressure come from?  Why is doing the best you can not good enough?  Why do we as moms feel like we have to compete with the best of every other mom or some ideal defined by society?

And breastfeeding is just one of the many many many topics that invoke this self doubt.  Cosleeping, sleep training, baby wearing, organic baby food, homemade baby food, cloth diapers, working, staying home.

It has to stop!  We are creating a generation of moms that constantly judge themselves against an unrealistic ideal.  We are creating a generation of moms who feel like they don't measure up.

There is no "one size fits all" guide to parenting.  There is no formula on how to do it right.  Parenting is not black and white, right and wrong.  Parenting is knowing your baby and trusting your instincts.  Parenting is trial and error and finding what works for you.  Parenting is a journey down a path that winds and splits off in many directions.  Parenting is making the best decision at that moment, celebrating when you took the right path and course correcting when you made a wrong turn.  Parenting is loving, beyond all else, parenting is loving. 

I wish my mom were here so I could ask her if she struggled with these same doubts.  If she had the same nagging feeling that, despite everything she did, she just wasn't doing enough good enough.  Is this just a side effect of being a mom or something else?

Regardless of the answer, there is one thing for sure, the media exploits this desperate need to be the best mom for our children.  They prey on our insecurities, our doubts, our gut wrenching instinct to do everything we can to give our children the best we have.  And to that I say enough is enough.  We are good enough.  In fact, we are better than good enough!

Emily's Question

I recently wrote this post over at Merelymothers.  Emily left a comment and asked me to write about how I got through the toughest times and if I have any tips or ideas for facing such a loss.  Emily shared that her mom has been diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimers Disease.

Emily, if you are reading this, first let me say that I am so sorry that you and your mother have to face this.  And thank you for reaching out.  Loss is such a hard and lonely process.  It's so very personal and no one will ever experience loss the exact same way you will.

I cannot begin to understand the emotions you are feeling.  The loss of my mom was, in comparison, sudden and unexpected.  It was acute on every level.  I didn't have a long time to to think about what was to come.  To play the future over in my head.  I can only imagine that the anticipation of what is to come is overwhelming and all encompassing. 

I think it is important to put out there that I am by no means an expert in grief and loss.  Personally, I don't think I have necessarily faced the loss in my life all that gracefully.  I don't think that I have done it right.  So I feel completely unqualified to be giving advice. But I have spent an enormous amount of time reflecting on where I am and where I have been and there are some lessons I learned and some things I have worked on that I will share with you.  These may (or may not) resonate with you or anyone else who has faced loss but they come from my very personal grieving experience.

Be kind to yourself.  This is something I have struggled with in life.  I have always been very critical of how I handle situations - I was the same way (and still am) when dealing with grief.  It is OK not to be OK.  It is OK to give yourself the space and time to deal with your emotions, what ever they are, in the moment.  Don't judge your process - because remember, grief and loss is personal.  It is your journey, don't compare it to anothers, don't expect to follow a prescribed path.

Take care of yourself.  Physically.  Grief and loss is hard on your system.  It will wear you down.  Exhaust you.  Eat.  Sleep.  Even at the worst of times, things felt more manageable after a good night of sleep. 

Take care of yourself.  Emotionally.  I am a huge (HUGE) proponent of therapy.  There is nothing to be ashamed of in getting professional help.  A good therapist will be able to help you verbalize and navigate your feelings.     

Everyone else around you will be grieving and dealing with loss too and they will not deal with it the same way you do.  I remember when I lost my mom all I wanted was to reach out and to latch onto someone else.  I wanted someone else to love me the way my mom did.  I wanted someone else to understand me the way my mom did.  My first realization was that no one else around me was capable to doing that because they were processing the loss of my mom as well.  They were stuck in their grief.  The second thing I realized is that you can't avoid grief simply by replacing the lost love.  There is no replacement. 

Similarly, I had to give space for others that are grieving.  It's not a pretty process.  People facing loss are necessarily selfish.  Their whole being is encompassed with how the loss is affecting THEM.  I found that my capacity and the capacity of those around me to truly understand how others were affected was simply not there.  It is so easy to get into the "I loved her more" "I miss her more" "the loss is the worst for me" game.  When you feel yourself going there, or see someone else going there, take a step back.  Those feelings are real, but they can be hurtful.  Grief is hard enough without it being a competition.

Embrace small moments of happiness.  Oh, I remember how guilty I felt when I first felt joy after losing my mom.  I remember how hard it was to reconcile grief and joy.  But those small moments of happiness are so important for the healing process.  They start as tiny little glimmers.  Don't ignore the glimmers.

Sit in the grief.  Don't run from it.  It will find you.  Cry.  Cry hard.  Cry ugly.  I had to hit the bottom to start climbing back up. And I hit it time and time again.  It's  OK!

Grief for me has been a two step forward, one step back process. Slow progress.  I start feeling like I am coping and things are much much better just to fall down again.  It happens.  It happens a lot.  I think it's OK.

Something my therapist told me (remember I'm a big fan of those guys): I may have lost my mom but she lives inside me.  She is part of me.  And because I carry her with me she lives on.  As long as I love her, she lives on.  As long as I continue to be the person she raised me to be, she lives on. There are days that sounds like such bull shit.  But on other days I have found immense comfort in that. 

And I'll end with this - I have found it simply amazing just how strong the human soul is at the moment it feels the weakest. 

I have only now started to be able to connect with the experiences others have had with grief and loss.  I have only now begun to see little ways this awful terrible thing has made me stronger and more resilient.  In a millisecond I would give all that strength and resiliency back to have my mom here but I guess what I am trying to say is even though it feels like it never will - it does get better.  Even though it feels like you never will - you will laugh again.  Even though it feels like you can't do it - you can.  You will.  I did.  I am.

She's Up then She's Down

My mood swings have been epic this last week.

 I'm like a total Katy Perry song.  Have I ever told you that Sam looooooves Katy Perry.  When he was a new born California Girls could get him to stop crying. Now his favorite Sesame Street video is the banned Katy Perry video (Yup, hand over that Parent of the Year award)!  Anyway, where was I.

Oh, yes, my mood swings.  One minute I'm on the floor playing with the boys, the next minute I'm curled up in a ball crying.  One minute I'm laughing, the next minute I'm ready to take someone's head off.   Related to my mood is my absolute lack of patience. 

Lack of patience + mood swings + two toddlers = FAIL

I know that I'm going to have these stumbling blocks, these moments where I slip backwards.  But I don't want to.  Yesterday the boys were playing together.  Like really, laying on the ground both pushing trucks around, playing together.  And the sun was coming in the front window and I was all warm and glowy.  Because it was all just so perfect.

And then the sadness started to creep in.  It just started tugging at me, trying to pull me out of my warm and glowy place.  I didn't want to go.  I didn't want to give into the sadness because it was just too wonderful where I was.  So I pushed back against it.  I fought to stay in the moment, but I had already lost the moment.  I ended up in this weird kind of purgatory, straddling the joy and the sadness -- both pulling me in opposite directions -- both making it impossible to fully give into the other.   

I know I'm going to have these moments, days, weeks.  I know that grief is a process.  I know that it will probably be with me in some form for the rest of my life.  But I only have so many glowy moments and I'm sick of giving them up to the grief. 

And when I am being stretched to my limit by my emotions I struggle with my moods.  I become snappy and short fused and all the things I don't want to be which makes me frustrated which makes me more emotional which makes me more moody.  Anyone else exhausted?

Time for a little Evaluation

Every so often I go through a phase of assessing where I am in life and things I'd like to do to make me a better me. 

I'm going through one of those phases.  Maybe it's the fact that I'm about to start a new job and the idea of a fresh start professionally has me examining the rest of my life.  Maybe it's the fact that Will is now a toddler and I can start thinking more coherently again.  Whatever the reason my brain is swirling with things I want to do - things I need to do. 

Become a healthier me - Yup, that tops my list.  I should be ramping up my exercise as training for the walk really kicks into gear.  I need to make this a priority in my every day!  I've also been sort of kind of doing weight watchers for the last few months.  No more of this kind of sort of.  Time to be serious and all in.  If I bite it, I will write it.  There's so many other things that fit into this category I could dedicate a whole blog post (or series of posts) about the things I want to implement to help me become a healthier me.

Learn to take better pictures - This is something I have wanted to focus on since Sam was born.  I want to capture our life.  Document the beauty (and chaos) of our every day and our special days.  I've been reading up on blogs and learning how to actually change the settings on Matt's DSLR.  Check out a recent pic I took in manual mode (a huge personal accomplishment).  I want to keep playing in manual and learn how to spot meter and learn how to digitally process.  I've been really enjoying ClickinMoms as a resource.  I have a steep learning curve. 

Take Time for Personal Reflection - I've been struggling with my faith and beliefs since loosing my mom.  It's something I am very aware of but have continued to push out of the way.  I just haven't had the energy and frankly for a very long time I was too mad, too raw to even try to work through what is in my head, heart and soul. I have been spending a lot of time reading a certain blog by a mom who talks a lot about faith and divinity and grace.  She doesn't do it in a preachy way but she weaves her thoughts on these big issues through her posts about her every day.  I find them beautiful and inspiring and they make me want to start the long process of rebuilding a relationship with faith.  I need to make time for this.  My faith use to be a huge anchor in my life.  I miss it.  And I think I need it, but I've been too hurt to just blindly return.  I need to work on this relationship and see where it goes. 

Focus on My Marriage - Matt is my best friend.  My rock.  My true love.  But in the swirl of the every day and the chaos of our kids I feel like I forget to recognize him.  I forget to honor our relationship.  I want to be more mindful of this.  Be more present in our marriage.  He deserves it.  We deserve it.

In a World where there is never enough time, I think it is important every once in a while to take a step back.  Evaluate. Prioritize.  Adjust. 

What things do you need to make room for in your life?

A Little Peace

I haven't written much the last couple of weeks.  The holiday's exhausted me - in a wonderfully joyful way.  This is the third Christmas I have spent without my mom.  It was the first Christmas that I was able to embrace as my own.

The last three years we have hosted Christmas, in one form or another at my house.  There are many reasons. New babies, pregnancy, having my babies wake up in their own beds and discover Santa in their own home.  But mostly because being in my mom's home, without my mom, on Christmas is something I'm just not strong enough to face yet.  Too many memories.  Too many ghosts. 

Creating Christmas in my house was hard the first two years.  Emotionally draining.  I did it with a heavy heart.  Smiles hiding the tears that bubbled up to the surface and spilled too often. 

The hardest part for me?  Cooking!  And I love to cook.  But while my mom opened her home to many over the holidays, the kitchen was our space.  A place where the two of us fell into a rhythm creating the familiar dishes that filled our dining room table year after year and experimenting with one or two new additions to keep things fresh.

The last few years I have found myself in the kitchen alone.  Cooking the dishes I no longer need a recipe for because they are ingrained in my head and heart.  Those first two years I was consumed with the loneliness.  Hated the solitude.  Resented every moment I spent in the kitchen.

This year there was a shift.  Don't get me wrong - I still missed my mom every minute.  I still wished she was standing across the kitchen from me slicing onions.  But I also found peace in the routine.  Comfort in creating the dishes my mom served year after year.  A sense of continuity bringing them forward into the new Christmas we have begun to create.

A Christmas where my home and table welcome good friends to share a holiday meal with my family much like my mom's always did.  A Christmas where I snuggle up with my boys in Christmas PJs and listen to Nani and Poppi's voices read "Twas the Night Before Christmas."  A Christmas where mommy and daddy and uncle Joe Joe spend hours drinking and building toys while Grandpa looks on remembering the nights he spent doing the same thing.  A Christmas filled with bleary eyed boys stumbling from their rooms on Christmas morning to see what Santa left under their tree.  A Christmas that is my own, but shares the warmth and love and comfort of my mom's.

I hope one day I'll be able to face the ghosts of Christmas in NJ.  But for now, I'm going to enjoy the the peace I am finding in the Christmas Matt and I have created and claim a small victory.

Traditions

I am sentimental.  Very Sentimental. Overly sentimental!

Songs and smells and sounds can transport me to a different time and place.

This time of year I am especially sensitive.  The sounds of Christmas carols, and the smell of Christmas trees mixed with cinnamon instantly bring me back to my home growing up.  The feelings of warmth and comfort and love come flooding.

This time of year brings on a whirlwind of emotions and tears are always close to the surface.  I am filled with a profound sadness that I'll never have another one of my mom's Christmases, a yearning for yesteryears and nostalgia with the past. But my heart is also swirling with hope and love and joy for the future and the gifts each day will bring.   

Christmas was my mom's favorite time of year, only challenged by her birthday month!  She reveled in transforming the house into a winter wonderland.  She loved to gather her friends and family around the table to break bread (and drink lots of wine).  She made the season magical and was able to recreate that feeling of awe you had as a kid on Christmas morning.  My heart swells when the memories come back and to this day I can't hear "I'll be Home for Christmas" without choking up.  

I desperately want to give that to my boys.  I desperately want them to be excited to come home from college into the warmth of their childhood home.  I want them to get giddy for Christmas morning long after the excitement of Santa has disappeared.  I want them to get excited to put up their own Christmas tree when they start their own families and thoughtfully place the ornaments their father and I gave to them over the years.  I want them to embrace the legacy that my mom passed onto me and I pass down to them.  I want to be their link to the traditions of the past and hope with my heart that they will carry those same traditions forward -- that way my mom's magic lives on throughout the generations.

I think this is the first year that the excitement in my heart is back and boy how I've missed it!

Finding Time

So I'm training for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day where I will walk 60 miles in 3 days to raise money for breast cancer research and education.  Right now this sounds very daunting to this out-of-shape, post-baby body.  Thank goodness I have close to 11 months to get my body ready for this challenge.

BUT . . . 

I have great intentions, I really do.  I plan to get up early and walk.  But in order to walk and get to work in time I need to leave the house by 5:30 and with two little ones who are still learning how to sleep those early morning hours are REALLY REALLY HARD.  It's dark by the time I get home with the boys and I'm a afraid of my own shadow so taking the boys on a walk after work is out of the question.  Weekends are a whirlwind and with the holiday's coming up time is at a premium.

I'm at a loss and need a workable solution otherwise I am going to be one sorry lady in 11 months!