Author: ambercoloredglasses12

Working Parent Guilt-What I’ve Learned May Surprise You

Going from a full-time to part-time working mom has been an enormous shift. One that is reshaping our family and how we do things pretty much on the daily. Big change brings about learning and a fresh perspective. Over the last 8 months I’ve learned quite a bit- not only about myself, but about my children, my husband, and about my expectations for the extra time I would have with my kids. A recent realization prompted me to write one of the more shocking things I’ve come to understand.  Something that I hope will give full-time working parents a splash of cold water on the face of guilt they wear each day as they trudge off to work.

Continue reading here.

Second Opinions and Intuition Are Vital To Health

Many of us have been in a situation where a diagnosis completely missed the mark or we left the doctor’s office knowing the information we were given didn’t seem quite right. For some, questions have been left completely unanswered, and it’s resulted in their condition worsening. For others, obtaining a second or third opinion uncovered the correct diagnosis thus saving their life or improving their quality of life immensely.  It got me thinking recently just how critical it is for all of us- old, middle-aged, and young to be not only our own advocates, but our loved one’s advocates as it relates to health. Here are three scenarios that may help you to ask more questions of yourself, your loved ones, and your physicians.

Solving The Issue On Your Own

When it comes to our kids or loved ones, it tends to be easier as the observer to pinpoint what may be contributing to their health problems. Think about how one small change in someone’s food selection could benefit them if they were to discover they had an allergy to a food they often ate? Recently, my son was complaining of a stomach ache 3 -4 times a week. He’s never been formally tested for lactose intolerance, but I figured it out early on by process of elimination.  He used to cry and complain of stomach aches after he’d have cow’s milk in his cereal or drink chocolate milk from the time he was a babe. I also happen to be lactose intolerant myself, so I figured his chances of having the same issue were pretty good.

After asking him what he’s been eating recently to try to uncover the reason for all of his stomach aches, I came to realize it was in fact lactose related yet again. He would complain after eating Cheez-its, Goldfish, smoothies, milkshakes, and occasionally pizza. Since our kids aren’t always with us when they’re eating (school, after school programs, friend’s houses, etc.) it’s not always obvious what is bothering their stomach. Honestly, I was buying the goldfish and cheese flavored crackers and not thinking twice. The powdered cheese in those snacks must have been contributing to the issue. For the last week, he’s stopped eating those snacks and you guessed it, the stomach aches have completely ceased. If only every health problem were that easy to solve! Sometimes, we can actually solve health issues on our own.

Following The Commonalities When There’s No Diagnosis

Sometimes, our loved ones notice more than we give them credit for. Many years ago, I became very ill while on a business trip. I was having a lovely time at an event  party until the wee hours of the night, and while chatting with co-workers, I started to feel extremely tired. I took inventory of what I had eaten..mostly chicken wings. It didn’t help that I had also been drinking cocktails, so I assumed it was a bad combo of the drink and food choice. I called it a night earlier than I had expected and headed back to my hotel room.

That night, I seriously thought I was dying of food poisoning- the pain was so bad. I started vomiting around 3 a.m. and didn’t stop until it was time to check out and head to the airport. Everyone assumed I had had one too many celebratory drinks, but I knew there was no way this was a hangover-it felt different. I ended up in the hospital for two days following my return. They discharged me and said they thought it might be pancreatitis. It was pretty much an unknown diagnosis.

What my then boyfriend (now husband) pointed out, was my symptoms seemed to weirdly mimic the same ones I had about six months prior after a meal at a hibachi restaurant. Following that meal, I had also landed in the hospital for a few days, only to have been discharged with no answers and the doctors scratching their heads.

We visited that same hibachi restaurant a few months after I returned from that business trip.  And again, this time even faster than the last, I could not even walk to the car.  I was weak, sweaty, and vomiting profusely only 10 minutes after eating. My mouth felt funny and my tongue felt puffy, which was a completely new symptom. I went to the ER, spent the night, and again, was discharged with no answers. Again, my boyfriend spoke up about what he noticed. I should add here that him being a chiropractor (who has studied a thing or two about the body) also helped. He had figured it out.

“You’re allergic to sesame!”

He pointed out my reaction was much more severe when it was in oil form. He had to be right! For as long as I could remember I would get stomach aches when I’d eat sesame bagels- I chalked it up to my lactose intolerance because of the cream cheese. Low and behold, it was the seeds! That business trip I had been on- I had eaten chicken wings lathered in sesame oil and seeds. The hibachi place we had dined at had cooked our meal in sesame oil.  Also, it answered questions for me that went way back to my youth. There were these crackers that our neighbors always put out at parties called Sociables. I would eat like the whole box – I loved these crackers so much! And EVERY time we went to their parties, I wound up in their guest room crying and writhing pain until the wee hours of the night. We could never figure out why my stomach hurt so bad at their parties! Turns out,  those crackers are sesame crackers. What an a-ha moment!

Three visits to the hospital and none of them resulted in answers. My husband had figured it out just by going through the foods I had eaten each time- and drawing a conclusion based on the most common denominator. Take note that with each allergic reaction, the symptoms worsen. Further down the road, a year or so later, I ordered Chinese takeout and double checked with the staff to see if they had cooked it in sesame. They confirmed they did not. Three bites in and it felt like I had swallowed gasoline. My throat felt like it was closing and the stabbing pains started in my stomach. This time, we avoided the hospital and waited it out to see if it would be over by morning. Thankfully, it was ( but I DO NOT suggest waiting it out- the pain was unreal).  If you have these kinds of stomach aches that land you in the ER, and have also had doctors scratching their heads, think about getting tested for a food allergy, or going to a specialist to run further tests. This, for some reason, had never crossed my mind or my parent’s minds for that matter, when I was young. Sometimes the answers are literally right in front of us!

When Intuition is Critical And So is A Second Opinion

Many of you are caring for ailing parents. You’re driving them to their doctor appointments or tagging along to make sure the right questions are being asked. This is what one of our friends was doing with his father when his eyesight began to decline in one eye, along with the white of the eye turning very red. They started with a top neurologist at a local hospital and were told it was allergies. When the eye began to turn out and they returned, they were told it was an auto-immune disease. The CAT scans continued to show nothing abnormal. But something wasn’t adding up. His father’s teeth started to ache, which lead them to having three teeth removed, and the medication he was on didn’t seem to be helping the symptoms at all. When he  began to see his father’s overall health rapidly decline over the next few months, he sought more answers. He decided to take him to a specialist at a university hospital- a neuro opthamologist. They had a special CAT scan machine that looked at the eye in ways that other CAT scans could not. And this was when they discovered there was a cancerous tumor that was crushing the sixth nerve. The sixth nerve is a cranial nerve that is responsible for the outward gaze. They also discovered that this cancerous tumor had stemmed from a melanoma that resided on his cheek and had metastasized to this nerve behind the eye. It was a serious diagnosis and treatment had to be aggressive to save his father.

When asked what his advice is for those that are currently searching for answers, he says to opt for university hospitals- not necessarily your local hospital. University hospitals study thousands of diseases and have more specialized advice, machines, and treatments to suggest versus a local hospital. Your local hospital studies less diseases at a time and may not have the answers because they’re not exposed to as much info. You are better off going there for things that aren’t as complex. It’s also a team dynamic at a university hospital. Why? Because a university hospital is a teaching hospital. All different kinds of doctors are invited in to give their opinion and take a look at what is going on. You’re not getting the services of one doctor with one opinion. Another helpful piece of advice he gave was making sure to track down a specialist.  When something quirky is going on with one specific area of the body, it’s best to go to a doctor that specializes in that area of the body, rather than your primary care doc. The clock could be ticking on your loved one’s health when you’re not getting the answers you need from the right source.

Too often we all hear stories about people putting off going to the doctor only to later find out something is gravely wrong,  or getting a misdiagnosis and being put on the wrong medication, or having no answers with worsening symptoms, etc. Always continue to search for answers for yourself and your loved ones, because when you really peel back all the layers of life that we all stress about, there is truly nothing more important than our health.

 

He Said

He said you girls will always be my number one most important thing in this world. It felt very true, until it wasn’t anymore.

He said we are going to have to kiss on the playground. But only because they want us to. No choice. He didn’t want to either. The crowd surrounded us, pushing, cheering, smiling. The teacher’s whistle blew and it was time to return to the 6th grade. The back of my arm wiped the saliva from my upper lip, chin, and cheeks.

He said it again, and again, and again. The words hissed and hung in the tan leather of his extravagant car. Weekend after weekend the words repeated and washed over this brain. Women who have sex are whores. Never have sex.

He said take this necklace, I will miss you after you move. Let’s be pen pals. His sweet second grade hand-writing a precious memory tucked away in the pages of my childhood journal.

He said do you want to go to the football game with me? New school and a new crush. The innocence; the electricity of our knees touching while shivering on the bleachers. The smell of high school concessions and crisp leaves in the fall air. The lights over the field shining down on the athletes as we watched. The familiar car lights pulling up to retrieve us. Hands interlaced, but only for a few seconds. Comforted to sleep by images of his pretty face; pointed nose, thick dark eyebrows, sharp cheekbones. The anticipation of the bus ride palpable. The rush of excitement as my shoes met with the bus stairs. The sounds of the whispers. The name in the whispers was mine. The blood draining from my face. The lies washed over me, like a bucket with too much water poured over my head, into my nose and mouth. Drowning in the feeling of betrayal. The sentences with our names were horrible lies. The ruining of my reputation in an instant. Confused by his kind, hand-holding innocence. Long term damage by untrue words spoken from his lips like wildfire in a matter of seconds.

He said you girls should come back to our hotel room. We’ll play cards and drink beer. He left the sliding glass door to the balcony cracked. The sliding glass door, his one mistake, and the only viable escape. Come out and look at the stars with me he said. Crashing of balcony furniture,aggressive scuffling, ripped clothing. His friend, a living angel, walking toward that sliding glass door, opening it gloriously wider, tilting his head quizzically at his red-faced, attacking friend. Running, running, running through that beautiful space between the sliding glass door. Running through the humid Florida night clinging to my sweat soaked skin . Running to freedom through the lobby, away from that hotel, and that strange, scary, teenage boy.

He said you have a gift, you should keep writing. A teacher that was otherwise insignificant in this life, in this mind, were it not for this statement.

He said nothing as he used a fleeting moment in a pool filled with people to rip my bathing suit off and grope me.

He said she’s my number one now. Sometimes things change. You girls need to listen to her because she’s your stepmom now. And then everything changed.

He said you’re no longer my daughter. You’re nothing to me. It was truth.

He said I’m sorry for what you have been through. I’m glad you’re here. You’ll always be a sister to me, I’m here for you and so is my family. This was truth. Truth that felt good.

He said of course I’ll sign. If it will help you buy your first car, or help you in any way, I will do it. You’re my niece, I’d do anything to help you. And because of this and because of him, I bought my first car.

He said just hang out with my older brother while I’m upstairs hanging out with N. He thinks you’re pretty; he remembers you from that party a few months ago. He was 21 and I 13. My friend later descending the stairs, jovial, beautiful, content. My state of mind a flagrant contradiction to hers. He got up and waved good-bye. We walked back to her house. I wiped his saliva from my chin, my face.

He said among the hundreds of tulips of every vibrant color covering every inch of my teenage bedroom, with white lights woven in between, will you go to prom with me?

He said That prom dress you wanted, it’s yours. I’m buying it because you deserve it, and I love you. And the dress of my dreams became the dress I wore to prom. Forever grateful, this I hope he knows.

He said I’m sorry for what you’re going through, we’re always here. You’re a good kid and I hope you know this. He was a man of few words and his few words meant the world to a sixteen year old girl. It was never forgotten, heartfelt, and so uplifting in that moment.

He said get in the f-ing van you slut! Gripping my wrist, my body hanging out of the open passenger side door, the van accelerating through the parking lot. Pulling, spitting, shouting obscenities, the man pulled as hard as he could to get all of me inside. A strange man, in a van, nude from the waist down. Pull, pull, pull away. Asphalt, hot, trip back to work. Call police to report. Horror, horror, saw you again; your smile, your stare searing through my flesh. Off to Boston, go, go, go, press the gas; leave this real life nightmare behind.

He said through tears and the kind of hug that makes it hard to breathe, I read your diaries while you were gone. Please don’t be mad. The sounds of the airport loud and distracting. Wrought with emotion, he continued on You don’t have to worry anymore in your life. I want to marry you… I love you and I want you to know I will never leave you. It was truth.

He said Congratulations it’s a boy! And the universe, God, love, and all of the emotion that embodies being human swept through this mind and body. Entangled experiences that shaped my unique world falling, falling away from me. Paradoxical.

He said I love you, Mom. Then later, They said I love you, Mom. And no more beautiful words were ever spoken to this mind, this heart, this human, this spirit. And I believe it to be truth.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Colorful thought bursts and unfiltered ideas in a child’s mind are endlessly humorous. Who doesn’t love to share or hear stories about the random and sometimes shocking sentences that tumble out of children’s mouths? Living on my phone, in the Google Keep app, is a list of both of my sons’ hilarious and interesting ponderings for their father and I to cherish forever. I highly recommend keeping a log of the funny things your child says so you can go back and revisit it as they get older. It was so entertaining to type the list out and re-live the hilarity. From food to movies to general observations about life…their quips are little snack packs of funny.

Let’s talk about food and drink

E: “I like avocado.”

Me: “What do you like most about it?”

E: “It helps you survive earthquakes.”

_____________

J: “Mom, I’m ready to stop being picky now. I’m ready to try new and exciting foods. Make me a salad.”

___________

E: “You can get arrested for bringing food into play areas. That’s why the signs say ‘NO FOOD ALLOWED’.”

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J: “You can’t drink Mom’s Diet Coke.”

E: “Why?”

J: “Because it’s wine.”

______________

E: “I know what food they give you in jail!

J: “What?”

E: “Spinach.”

___________

Commercials, Famous People & Politicians

A commercial comes on the television and J exclaims, “Mom, come in the living room- quick!”

“What? What is it?”

J: “This stuff is for you! You should get it. It’s for hair loss.”

___________

E: “I’m five now. Do you know what that means I can do? I can watch the movie IT.”

___________

“Who has a birthday party at THAT age?” said while watching the Spiderman movie and hearing Jamie Foxx’s line about his birthday party.

___________

E: “I want to watch Deadpool even though it’s inappropriate. Can you tell me again why it’s inappropriate?

Me: It’s inappropriate for lots of reasons. For starters, there are lots of bad words.

E: Well, I’m going to be the Director of an inappropriate movie about Washington D.C. and there will be lots of bad words.”

___________

E: “Why can’t Donald Trump just be nice? His ties are nice. I like his ties.”

___________

E: “Can we steal a body from that graveyard? I want to make a real Frankenstein.”

Everyday Observations

“Why is that guy trying to make you fall in love with him?” Said my eight year old about the restaurant manager of a diner we frequent.

___________

E: “Mom, I got sweaty AND handsome today…. just like Harry Styles.”

___________

At bedtime, as I’m getting into my son’s bed to lie next to him, he says, “Stop, wait!”

“How come?” I ask while giving him a death stare and wondering what he’s trying to negotiate for now;more snacks, water, bathroom, etc.

“Take a load off. Go get your comfy cozies on so you can relax while you’re putting me to bed.”

____________

J: “Mom, your memory is so bad.”

Me: “I know, I forgot I already got the milk out and just opened the fridge to get the milk again.”

J: “Mom, what did I just say?”

I repeat back what he’s just said and give him a quizzical look.

J: “Just checking your memory.”

_____________

E: “I got sent to the principal’s office and I didn’t run away from her! I wasn’t even scared!”

____________

J: “Is there such thing as kid jail? How bad is it?”

____________

E: “Mom, can you go away and never come back? I only want Daddy now. It’s better that way.”

____________

J: “What’s re-incarnated mean again?” We explain reincarnation….

“OK, then I’m definitely reincarnated. I think I’m the last survivor of the Titanic. She died a few weeks before I was born.”

____________

“Who is Harvey Weinstein?” my five year old asked after overhearing an NPR news bite.

Me (so many different ways to approach this one): “A man that says inappropriate stuff to women.”

He sits quietly with that answer for a minute. “Oh, yeah. You mean like the stuff Daddy says to you?”

____________

While the family is busting out dance moves in the kitchen, “Stop!” J says.

“Why, we’re having fun?” I ask.

“Because only I can be the cool one.”

Advice I Would Give To Myself Before Becoming A Mom

That whole first year of being married was lots of dinner dates, some dancing and shows in New York City, a couple of weekend trips to Washington DC, and smatterings of work travel. Nothing was too crazy and there was no bucket-listing going on. The years leading up to getting married I gifted my then boyfriend a trip for almost every birthday of his and/or every Labor or Memorial Day weekend. I was always using his birthdays as a way to get us out of our already pretty predictable, grown-up schedule. It felt way too easy to fall into a routine once we both had steady jobs and had a wedding to plan and pay for. However, hindsight is 20/20, and if I could go back and tell myself what to do differently before becoming a parent, here is the advice I would give.

Think bigger in terms of travel. I sort of had the right idea in always planning trips, but they were all pretty much within 3 hours away; Vermont, Boston, D.C., New Hampshire, Maine, and the Jersey Shore. These are all places that I can still go to as a parent and am more inclined to go to now because they are driving distance from home in CT. Take this pre-baby time to travel the broader U.S. that you’ve never seen.Try to see Europe in any possible way you can across a 3 week span. Finance it if you have to, just do it. You won’t be able to do this otherwise for probably another 15 or 20 years.

Hone in and partake in your hobbies as much as you can. I take dance class more now as a mother than I did before I became a mom. Before kids I can count on only two hands how many times I took the train into NYC to take a dance class. It wasn’t until it seemed like it was an impossibility to keep it going that I committed to going somewhat regularly and found a studio locally that I fell in love with. I signed up for a memoir writing course before kids and it was the only writing, other than journaling that I did really. I write regularly now obviously AFTER becoming a mom, but finding the time is definitely a challenge that I actively navigate each week. It can still be done, it just has to be woven into my day. If I could, I would have told my younger self to have started seriously writing much earlier.

Be adventurous. Something changes once you become a mother in terms of the risks you are willing to take. Since becoming responsible for two sons that I want to see grow and thrive (hopefully into their 50’s), I am less likely to get on that roller coaster, go down that steep water slide, scuba dive, ride that giant ferris wheel, ski on a black diamond, or just take risks with my life in general. Prior to having kids, there isn’t this voice telling you to preserve your life or that “you only live once” as it relates to life-threatening activities. You’re not aware when you’re younger that the feeling of invincibility goes away after birthing a child.

Don’t wrack up credit card debt on dumb crap. I’m talking about outfits that you don’t need that add up; accessories -hats, purses, jewelry, belts. Don’t be Gemma the Generous. Buying a round of shots for ten people here and there is completely fine if you can truly afford to. I used to love to do this because it felt so good-but ouch- it hurt my pocketbook the next day! Going out to eat way too much can add up really fast. It would have been so much smarter had I figured out how to actually cook some food. It wasn’t until I became a mom that I exercised any effort into figuring out how to cook meals. This skill could have saved me so much money before kids. We seriously went out to eat WAY too much.

Try your hand at all things that interest you. When I think back to what I would do on the weekends before kids, I was kind of one dimensional. The most interesting and common activity I engaged in was going out with friends. This is not to say that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy myself in doing so! But we are all creatures of habit, and it became a big part of how I had fun and let loose after the work week. Looking back on that time, there are so many cool things I could have initiated with my friends instead of sitting and chatting over a glass of wine. We do plenty of that now! Back then, we could have tried anything without having to calculate and plan for a sitter.Trapeze classes, paint and sips, learning how to play the guitar, taking language courses, partaking in a cooking class, going white water rafting,more karaoke nights in the city, more nights in the city actually experiencing its culture, scavenger hunts, running in more 5Ks, joining a writing club, etc. The opportunities are endless. We can still do these things as parents-of course- it’s just you have to get a babysitter, ask your spouse to pinch hit, or miss out on time with your kids- all things that you have to put a decent amount of thought and planning into.

Take a babymoon. I was fortunate to only feel sick off and on for the first month or so of my first pregnancy. Beyond that, I felt like a million bucks and had more energy than I knew what to do with. For my husband’s 30th, I had surprised him with a trip to Paris-because why not? Since he’s 4 years older, he knew well in advance that for my 30th I wanted to do an adventurous trip as well. The plan was to rent a convertible and drive up the coast of California. My due date was right around my actual 30th birthday, so I let my husband know we should take the trip a month or two months beforehand. In the end, it turned out he had decided not to go through with planning the trip. He actually thought he was doing me a favor. Because I was pregnant, he assumed I would be uncomfortable driving around in the heat for long stretches of time. I was NOT happy, but still had hope since he promised we’d do the trip the following year. However, the more I thought about that, the more I disliked the idea. How would I want to leave my one year old? Who would we leave him or her with? Both our families were not close in proximity to us, and there was no guarantee our moms would be able to get off of work to stay and help out. So we waited until the next year and, luckily, my mother-in-law was able to help us out. BUT, it was just as I had suspected; we couldn’t relax. We worried the whole time, missed our one year old son like crazy, and felt like we didn’t enjoy the trip in the same way we would have pre-parenthood. To make matters worse, my son was terrified and would not go near me for the entire first day after we returned. He actually cried hysterically when I attempted to come near him. It is hugely different to take a five day trip before actually having a child. Take my advice on this and take the BABYMOON.

I’m really not one for regrets, so I don’t look at these suggestions and feel wistful or sad. It’s simply stuff I’ve learned along the way that could help someone. There was no way for me to know these things until the wisdom of parenthood was bestowed upon me. If it can help someone in their decision making prior to starting a family of their own, then I’ve done my job. We only get one life; paying helpful information forward is one of the bests gifts one can give in my opinion. Go forth and conquer!

It’s time for me to go to bed now so I can be a decent mom tomorrow.

How to Look Shady: Set a Mouse Free

We said good-bye and the mouse and I hit the road.  I pulled into the cemetery nearby. This seemed like the most viable option in terms of where to set it free. I hopped out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and grabbed the trap. Just as I grabbed it a white pick up truck that appeared to belong to the cemetery pulled up slowly behind my car. 

There’s been a mouse that pays us a visit every night at the same time. It starts banging around under the oven making all kinds of noise, however, we’ve never actually seen it. The cat tries unsuccessfully to catch it every time. The other night when I heard more noise than usual, I went into the kitchen and saw the thing standing in my frying pan on the stove! I almost died. I threw on my coat over my pj’s and drove to Home Depot to get some humane traps. The idea of buying a trap that squishes them makes my skin crawl. I’m less grossed out setting a live mouse free, than having to deal with a broken, dead one. Gus gus

For four nights the trap wound up empty. Then last night I heard the thing squeaking and heard the trap shifting around (unfortunately, I sleep like a cat) and got up to check it. The cat followed me and, naturally, went nuts pawing at the trap. I wandered around the house in a sleepy daze and found a bucket, which I placed over the top of the trap to dissuade my cat from batting it around. This trick would help me get some sleep for a couple of hours, until I woke up feeling sorry for the mouse.

What the hell is wrong with me? Honestly, I felt bad for it because I thought it might suffocate under the bucket. I got out of bed and took the bucket off. This was a dumb move because for the cat- it was game on.

I got in and out of bed two more times from the noise of the cat pouncing on the trap before I put the trap in the basement and closed the door. The morning arrived in what felt like two seconds.  While dropping my third grader off to school, I had the mouse ride shotgun.

“Mom, no fair. How come I can’t watch you set the mouse free? Can’t you just set it free behind my school in the woods?”

“Um, I think it might look extra shady if I was walking behind your school right after the bell rang with a small black object in my hand. Plus the view from the school windows of me crouching down with some black contraption wouldn’t fare well either. I’d likely be arrested on suspicion of wielding a weapon, so it’s really not a good plan hun.”

We said good-bye and the mouse and I hit the road.  I pulled into the cemetery nearby. This seemed like the most viable option in terms of where to set it free. I hopped out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and grabbed the trap. Just as I grabbed it, a white pick up truck that appeared to belong to the cemetery pulled up slowly behind my car.

Oh crap.I realized how this might look.

break-in-brutal-burglar-8827

Here I was about to release a mouse in a holy area. I mean, technically a cemetery is sacred and stuff. Also, just a side note, couldn’t the manufacturers make these stinking traps in different colors like bright red or blue or something? They had to be black? Honest to God, it looks like a freaking weapon of some kind. So there I was; suburban mom in my winter coat, yoga pants and sneakers slinking around the cemetery in the rain with a freaking live mouse in a trap that looked like a weapon. It’s funny how we start to act guilty when we feel like we’re doing something wrong.

I had to lose the cemetery worker in the pick up. I felt like he was about to get all  Sherlock Holmes on me.

book-detail-knowledge-247787

I chucked the trap back in the car and ran around to the driver’s side and drove away like a bat out of hell. I completely chickened out, it felt like I had to release the mouse in private because I didn’t want to get “caught”.

Driving out of the cemetery I drove past a soccer field. Ah, the perfect place to release a mouse! After turning around and pulling my car into the field parking lot, I noticed one of those bright orange town trucks.

Ugh! For the love of God! Can’t a girl just get some privacy around here to set a damn mouse free? I sat in the parking lot for five minutes or so and waited for the workers in the truck to leave. No luck.

sht

The park was the next best bet. It seemed surreal to me that this was how I was spending my morning. Driving from place to place trying to set a damn mouse free – with some privacy no less! Once at the park, I made the left into the driveway and could not miss  the unmarked black police SUV sitting in the driveway.

This was legit comical! I honestly COULD NOT find one open field/woods/cemetery/park without some truck or utility vehicle standing in my way. It felt like I should prepare to have an explanation in case I was approached.

When+im+trying+to+not+laugh+in+someone_c26c36_6152034

“Um, sir, I know this looks weird and this looks like a weapon but I’m actually setting a mouse free that I caught in my kitchen. Yes, I actually drove a few miles from my home to set this thing free. It’s what the directions on the box said.” Every scenario I ran through  ended with me cracking up.  It was like I was performing a criminal act that was too comical to explain.

Thankfully, the cop car was facing traffic, and the driveway to the park was somewhat long. The lot runs up against some woods and a creek. I parked and hoped the cop wouldn’t get out of his car to see what I was up to.

The trap wouldn’t open easily and I realized I opened the wrong side and was trying to shake a stuck mouse out of a miniature tunnel. Nothing was happening. I pulled the peanut butter end off and saw some whiskers. So there we were. I was face to face with the high maintenance mouse. This creature seemed more to me like the Princess and the Pea at this point. As I scrambled to take a picture of the thing for my sons, it ran out of the other end through the snow and in between a tree and a rock.

But wait-there’s more.

Two seconds after it darted for that crevice, and before I could even pick up the trap, a giant hawk swooped down and landed not five feet from me on a branch. Now, I know you’re thinking, “she’s got to be kidding!”

Nope-I kid you not. It has also been all over the local news lately to be cautious around hawks in the area because they’ve been attacking people.  For real, this is happening, as hilarious as it sounds.

So before the hawk lost interest in the mouse and decided to pick on me, I ran over by my car door and took cover like they do in those police shows (as if the hawk couldn’t just fly over the car door and attack my head). I grabbed my phone and hunched down in between my open door and the car and snapped a photo of this beast.  I really didn’t feel like getting attacked by a hawk today though, so it felt better to cower behind the car door.

Hawk

Who knows if the mouse ended up living beyond today after all of this. The irony is that I went through that rigamarole simply because I wanted to do the humane thing and because a dead, squished mouse grosses me out. All that, and the mouse was likely breakfast for that hawk.

The whole drive back home I was dying in the car. What I must’ve looked like to that police officer or any passerby for that matter sends me over the edge.  After all of this, I just have one question. Does anyone else out there actually follow the directions on these mouse traps? Who actually drives two miles from their home to set the mouse free in an open space or field that is not near a residential area?

 

 

Where Happiness and Worth Collide

More and more we keep hearing the words “self-care”. So many of us parents don’t practice self-care, and recently I discovered how legitimately important it is. Allow me to take you through how I landed here.

Do you revel at the pure happy that pours out of children- your own and other people’s children included? A child that doesn’t smile or exude joyfulness often sticks out like a bluejay in a sea of canaries. I think it’s because most children, naturally, just ARE happy. So when we see a child that doesn’t seem happy, it sort of gets stuck, almost like a pause button has been pressed. Fast forward to adulthood and try to apply the same observation. It doesn’t quite work does it? We adults were once young, ebullient, energized, smiling children. But now, having experienced the real word, disappointment, responsibility, and perhaps parenthood sometimes we find ourselves wondering- have I smiled yet today? All of us are different;some people are more serious, reserved, some are shy, bubbly, etc. you get the point. Whatever personality type you are, the unjaded childhood version of you that was once there changes. This made me realize for these last 8 or so years, I’ve been of the serious type more often than not. My general manner for the bulk of my life has been happy and upbeat. But time and time again throughout my thirties, my sunny disposition felt like it was in hiding. Which begs the question-what changed? Well, I became a parent. And as moms typically do, I put two little cherub’s needs always and forever before mine of course.

It’s no secret that when you become a parent life as you know it shifts. It’s no longer about you and your every breath and action revolves around this precious life that you’re trying to raise, nurture, and keep safe. While there are extreme highs and lows within the role of parenting, there is one thing that is constant-the lack of time for one’s self. Then think about how you spend the time you actually DO get for yourself. You’ve likely heard the term I referenced at the beginning of this article: self-care. For some of us though, if we were already used to not practicing self-care before becoming parents, then the idea of it seems like a farce once you actually are a parent.

It wasn’t until a few months ago through EMDR therapy that I discovered why self-care felt so incredibly foreign to me. Our experiences up to the point of becoming parents shape how we view ourselves – these experiences define and contribute to how we value our self worth. It turns out that inner voice everyone has can really dominate your decisions. I’ve come to learn my inner voice happens to be quite mean. I wonder how many other people out there have a negative inner voice in their adult life, that has somehow snatched a megaphone during parenthood? Perhaps as a result of this critical voice, the idea of prioritizing self-care feels the same as it would to someone with germaphobia and OCD trying not to wash their hands after touching a door handle. To put it simply: it feels like an impossibility that we should make ourselves a priority.

I understand that of course our younger years were very different from adulthood. Think back to your own childhood for a moment. If you’re like me, and you were raised in the 80’s and 90’s, then you were raised on tree climbing, kickball, outdoor tag, flag football in the street, catching lightning bugs in jars, and pushing frogs in your buggy. The outside world was our jungle gym and we were certainly “free range”. The elementary school years were just sheer happiness for the most part. Even in spite of rockiness that ensued at home for any of us, the happiness was just sort of there regardless.

As your life progresses, you meet your love, get an apartment together, you get married, you travel for a minute, and you decide to take the plunge and have a baby. Suddenly your world is flipped upside down. No one can prepare you for this wild ride or the emotions that come along with it. Someone once told me “You wear your heart outside of your body now and forever when you have children. The more you have, the more of your hearts are walking around -and the more you worry”. This pretty much sums it up.

However, as your children get older, and you’re not as panicked about them running into the street or falling down the stairs, you find yourself starting to turn your attention for the first time in a long time to yourself. Having the time to focus on yourself means listening to what your mind and body needs. All of a sudden you’re paying attention to why you do the things you do. You’re starting to focus on aspects of yourself that maybe you’ve never given a second thought to.

For me, personally, I have learned that I book over my “me” time subconsciously on purpose. I somehow make myself think that I’m undeserving of time for myself. Think for a second what you do for yourself as it relates to self-care. Do you take a bath? Do you exercise? Do you take an hour to do something you love each day? For those of you that are nodding and saying “Yes, I have always done this and will continue to do so”–you’re way ahead of the game, and I’m just now catching up.

Now that I’ve done the work, I’ve acknowledged the voice is there, and I should fight as hard as I can to ignore it. I’m not talking about ignoring a gut feeling- that’s different. I’m talking about the voice that tells you to ignore what you NEED to do for yourself. The voice that says to just answer one more email, make one more call, or do one more thing for the kids. It’s wrong about my worthiness, it’s wrong about the guilt I should feel any given day about my kids, and it’s wrong when it tells me I don’t deserve time for myself.

If you find yourself taking a call right at the time you had planned to work out, or saying “yes” to something for your child right when you had planned to take a bath, or scheduling over your short time you’ve alloted for your “me” time again and again, ask yourself why you perpetually sabotage your “me” time. If you don’t feel it’s perpetual, then you’ve likely got a healthy grasp on the importance of self-care. If you’re like me, and it’s something that happens every day, I’m telling you it’s completely subconscious and you should try to seek out the “why” so you can head it off at the pass.

Through this EMDR therapy, I’ve come to learn several things about why I do what I do. Specifically, why I’ve never truly understood what caring for myself actually means. Everyone and everything else has always mattered significantly more.

When we make time to exercise regularly, meditate, read a book, or relax however we see fit, we feel like the best, happiest versions of ourselves. I can attest to feeling this way, because recently I’ve been making a conscious effort to do it. If we’re caring for ourselves and making sure we’re still having fun and being active in life not just for the benefit of others, but for ourselves, then naturally the happy follows. In the moments after practicing self-care, that carefree childhood happiness comes back to visit, allowing our solid self worth to take up permanent residency.

Always an Applicant, Never A New Hire

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s how I feel in this cyberspace job applicant jungle. If I told you that I have been applying to jobs for the last six years, yes, SIX years, would you believe me? I mean, I’d like to think I’m all that and a bag of chips when it comes to the being the right person for the role, but it doesn’t matter if I am or not, because the bottom line is it’s incredibly rare that the companies ever meet me in person. Half the time they don’t get to see me face to face, feel my positive vibe, and let me speak about how I’d be a solid asset to their team. I used to get incredibly down on myself as to why I was never selected, even in instances when I made it to the final round. I had to figure out the why. It drove me crazy.

Meanwhile, I started talking openly about it with friends, their families, old colleagues, acquaintances, strangers I met at events with my kids, and even co-workers. I was awed over how many of them were in this hunt alongside me. And they were also stumped in their time sapping job searches; time traveling to the future of nowhere.

Prior to the economic crisis in 2008, the process in which one was hired followed a seemingly typical path. You apply to a few jobs of interest, and out of those jobs, you hear back from one or two of the handful you’ve applied to. You pass that initial screen, you are invited to an in-person interview and maybe there is a second and final in person interview that seals the deal.

This is no longer the case. If you are currently a job seeker, take inventory right now in this moment at how much time you have spent applying, having phone interviews, the assignments you’ve been asked to do, and the number of in-person interviews you have been asked to make yourself available for. Is your mind blown yet? It’s probably a scary number of hours, days, weeks, maybe even years.

It is this time spent applying to countless jobs that I will never get back. Evenings that I could have been having connection with my husband, or taking a dance or exercise class, or just plain recuperating and decompressing from the current work day. Instead I was always pushing to get a new gig, thinking that if I wasn’t persistently trying to change my current situation, then I’d be miserable and stuck forever. I don’t like to complain about a situation without trying to fix it.

Aside from trying to fix the problem for 6 years, I often angsted over it taking over my thoughts. My youngest son is four and a half and it’s crazy to think that I have been so focused on this one thing for his entire existence. I have been searching for a new job since before he was conceived, paused the search during my pregnancy, and resumed it right after maternity leave. This was often consuming my thoughts as I was desperate to get out.I know I was not mentally present sometimes during his and his brother’s precious bedtimes; which is the time of day working parents treasure with their children. It was so obvious during that time that I actually wrote about it in Focused on Distraction.

I wanted to be the best version of myself for my boys, but often during these times of job hunting I’m sure they saw and felt my sadness. Always torn between trying to paint on a smile for them, but knowing I wasn’t really feeling it. Kids are like sponges- they soak it all in.

I would like to take this moment to pay homage to all of the single people out there who have been hustling, trying everything they can to meet their mate. It’s comparable to those of us on the never-ending, fruitless job search.  I know how you feel now. We cringe inside every time someone asks how the search is going, just as a single person does when someone asks why haven’t you met anyone yet. You start to feel like something is wrong with you, as though you’re the King or Queen of rejection. You can’t help but feel that people are judging you, and it fuels all of your insecurities related to that one thing that just isn’t panning out.

This is not to say that no one actually gets job offers these days. I have known a handful of people in the last six years that have landed new jobs very quickly. This is incredibly fortunate because this just seems so rare nowadays. I tell these people they have no idea how lucky they are, and they either have Einstein’s genes or should go buy a lottery ticket right now.

I would ask myself, “Is it my resume? Was my spiel about what I’ve been recently doing not short and sweet enough? Was my salary not in the right range? Was it because they figured out I’m a parent and may have to leave right at 5?” The analyzing is endless. I actually really started to doubt my worth in the one area I had always felt strong in. Interviews in the past did not feel like the post 2008 era. Prior to 2008 getting a job felt really easy.

I’m mad at myself now for feeling that way, because my worth is not defined by whether or not a company wants to hire me. If nothing else, please take that away from this article. Your worth is not defined by whether or not a company wants to hire you.

It’s good to be open to advice, there is always the chance you are making mistakes along the way and could use some help. I reached out to my support system and their suggestions were added to my to-do list:  have several variations of my resume, set up a profile on all the job search engines I can find, call recruiters, after applying to a position be sure to connect with colleagues on LinkedIn that are affiliated with contacts within the company that I am seeking employment with,  have at least 2 to 3 references on LinkedIn, create a portfolio of your work and share it, send emails to close friends, acquaintances, and old colleagues to see if they know of any openings, etc. One key thing I learned at the tail end of the six year journey of becoming a professional interviewer was that my salary was above my title. So often when they would ask me what I was currently making, they would quickly get off the phone and say I was too senior. I would say, I don’t think so, I read the job description, and they would say they just didn’t have it in the budget. If I told them I would take the lower salary (which in some instances I did) they never went for it. If only they knew what a great employee I would be. I just wanted to be free from where I was-even if it meant a pay cut.

If you’re reading this and you’re still wondering just how many jobs I applied to, let me break it down. I realize this opens me up for much judgement and perhaps trash talk, but without vulnerability who are we as people?

On average, I would apply to roughly 1 to 3 jobs a night, about 3 days a week, over the course of six years with a break while I was pregnant. Between 2011 and 2017 I applied to roughly 260-780 jobs. Out of those jobs, I received phone interviews for roughly 1 out of every 15 jobs.  Out of those phone screens, I made it to the next round 50% of the time. I made it to the second round 25% of the time.  Following that, I made it to the final round 6 times and received actual job offers twice. Let me repeat that- out of 260-780 jobs that I applied to, I received 2.5 job offers. I say 2.5 because one was in the works and I shut it down because it didn’t feel right. Out of those other two offers, one rescinded their offer after deciding to split the salary and give it to two college grads.  I turned down the other one due to the amount of travel and the coinciding of another opportunity that presented itself in late 2016 at the current company I was with.  I stayed the course, happy in my new role for a bit until some unexpected internal changes took place, then I was back to work as a late night job seeker.

This never ending cycle of rejection got me thinking perhaps I’m just not cut out for the post 2008 corporate recruiting process? How many more years could this go on? How much longer will I knowingly be unhappy in my professional life while doing everything in my power to try to change it?  Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me to walk away and do something else as a means to contribute to society and provide for my family?

And then rock bottom came. Things at my current job got to a point where I could not balance my personal life and my work life any longer.  It was all-consuming for many different reasons and it was time to do something. In order to keep my sanity, I turned in my resignation. I had been trying to leave for so long and without luck, I had given the new position my all, but could no longer go forward. The mere idea of logging back on to those job search sites made me want to hitch a ride with Thelma and Louise.

Overshadowing my new found freedom was the reality that I’d once again have to boot up and start applying. There is a strong feeling that my courtship with the corporate world is over unless a progressive, family friendly company comes a knockin’.

If you are in this same situation and you are reading this nodding your head and day dreaming of quitting in the same fashion, I can tell you how it turned out. I can tell you what I’ve come to learn from all of this rejection. 1.) Something else will crop up 2.) You, yourself define your worth;not a job, a company, or a person, 3.) if you try like hell to change something and the door of change just won’t open… try a window or another way out- no matter how much the fear paralyzes you. 4.) You will most likely have to make some financial sacrifices. This will not outweigh getting your sense of self back, but you will have to be OK with not living the life you once did for a bit.

Trust me on this. I have no regrets on making this decision.

__________________________________

Where am I now? Did I win the lottery and go to live on an island or start my own company and become a millionaire – well yes- I did. Just kidding, no I didn’t. However, one month and one week after I quit my job I had a job offer that manifested in an unreal way. I still cannot believe how things unfolded. Life is truly unpredictable.

The Importance of Helping When You Know You Can

Ponder this: If you knew in your heart that something needed to be done to help someone, and you had the tools to do it, but you knew it would take up your time and require some effort on your part-would you do it?

Now ponder this: if you knew something needed to be done to help several people, and you had the tools to do it, but knew it would take up your time and require effort-would you do it?

I was in this scenario and it kept coming back to me. When the universe knocks again and again you can’t help but pay attention.

We’re all trying to manage our day to day lives and each day presents it’s own set of challenges. Back in November, I took a part time job that allowed me more time with my family, flexibility, and more sleep. Being part-time also means that I have to schedule my day right. You see I’ve set my hours so that I have one hour in between to do something for myself before I pick up my sons. I’m failing miserably at truly using that hour for myself and it’s frustrating. It has to be my job to figure out the why. I have the tools to fix this for myself and only I alone can fix this issue. Did you catch that? I HAVE THE TOOLS TO FIX THIS. It’s something in my psyche that blocks me from doing things for myself. It requires some effort and of course time on my part to understand the why and how of it and to kick the negative voice out of my head.

When you’ve got the tools to fix something that needs fixing- naturally – it’s a no brainer. But I’m here to tell you-it ain’t that easy. Sometimes we need signs to repetitiously tell us just how we’re needed; it’s the universe blatantly pushing us to hurry up and do something. When it relates to ourselves it’s not as clear sometimes how to fix the problem because we can’t be objective. When it relates to others,  it’s so much easier to see and devise a plan for resolve.

Here is an example of exactly this below.

I have had hundreds (maybe even a thousand honestly) of moms let me know that the main reason they are looking to join the working moms group I facilitate on Facebook is for connection and friendship. You see each time someone requests to join my group I ask what they are hoping to gain from joining.  More and more in the last year the answers read in almost the exact same fashion.

“I’m looking to connect with other moms, I am new to the area and don’t have many friends.”

“I’m looking for moms with children the same age as mine for play dates and also friendship.”

“I’m looking for friendship, it’s isolating having a baby sometimes.”

“I need to get out with other moms for sanity and I’m curious how they all juggle this.”

Do you see a common denominator? There is an epidemic of isolation and loneliness taking place and it showed up on my doorstep with the universe begging the question,

“So what are you gonna do about it Amber?”

I knew that me simply adding these women to the group would not give them what they were seeking. This knowledge was based on two things I had already tried in the past that ended up flopping : summer playgroups and monthly mom’s nights out.

For the summer playgroups Facebook messenger was the platform I had tried using by creating groups by town and ages of children. I had to draw diagrams that dissected towns by gender and ages of the kids before setting up each group in a chat which took hours and hours of my time.

On the other hand, the mom’s nights began very successfully and on average 8 to 12 moms would show. Gradually, that number waned and the last year of mom’s dinners has resulted in 2, maybe 3, women showing up. Clearly there had been a shift in the way to go about getting people together. These women needed something more tangible, more intimate, and a way to chat via text to arrange get togethers and playdates. I had to help these moms and I had to figure out the right way to do it so it was not too cumbersome. Of course it would take up quite a bit of my time and effort. But I had the tools- a computer, access to each mom, and a conscience. I knew that simply adding them to the group would not provide them instant access to friendship and connection. Knowing this and doing nothing about it felt irresponsible. Ignoring their call for help felt morally wrong.

During a time of brainstorming in terms of  what would be the right platform, I had a work meeting on a Sunday afternoon in which I was going to introduce myself to an au pair and her host family as their new counselor. After the meeting was over, I was on my way out the door and I asked the au pair what she had ended up doing over the weekend. She mentioned she had connected with some other au pairs on the WhatsApp app and they had all arranged to hang out. My mind held onto that sentence- almost as if it was in bold type. I had this app she mentioned, but had only used it once or twice to text with a friend who got spotty cell service at work. I felt it was too coincidental for the au pair to have mentioned that app in her conversation with me as I was walking out the door.

As soon as I got home, I looked up all of the apps offerings. Unbelievably, I discovered quickly that this was the PERFECT platform for my mom connection idea. Fast forward and I’ve launched mini connection groups for several towns. Each group needs/has a leader to help take charge and organize the get togethers. Out of the groups created, a few are stagnant while the others are really taking off. They’ve had many playdates and even a mom’s night with decent attendance. This was also all within the first few weeks of being up and running.

To see this makes my heart incredibly happy. My time spent was worth it because these moms are developing friendships, getting out of their houses with and without their babies, and some sunshine is back in their lives again.

I’m thinking fathers could really benefit from this type of outlet as well. Something I’m toying with and a story for another time.

Is there someone in your life you know you could be helping but you haven’t yet because your plate is too full? When it’s so blatant that you have the tools to do something whether it be for yourself or others -do you ignore it? There is always more we can be doing for ourselves, but listen when I tell you how fulfilling it is to help others.

Picture the beautiful enveloping warm sun on your face. This is comparable to how you feel on the inside when you set aside what you have going on and spend the time using your tools to help someone else.

Next up, I’ll be trying to use my tools to carve out me time and not schedule over it every.single.day. I’ll be writing about why I do this to myself (yes, I’ve recently discovered why) and how I’m going to try and tackle it next.

What tools do you possess that you’re not using to help yourself or others? Are you paying attention to the signs the universe is giving you on just how to use them? Think about it friends…