unexpected inspiration

Preface: As I was looking through my drafts that have never been published, I found this little gem. It was written in September of 2011. I'm not sure why I never published it. 

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was somewhere in the middle.

I feel like over the past few months I've been experiencing something in the middle of life's ups and downs. Most days are good. Some days are bad. Today was half good, half bad.

This morning I took Blake to a park we don't usually go to. It's usually crowded so I prefer another park. With all the rain we've been having I was hoping there wouldn't be a ton of kids around. And I was right. It was a wonderful hour spent at the park. Blake ran through puddles, went down a few slides, and I threw away all the trash he picked up and handed to me. All with the Manhattan skyline in the background. As I looked at our beautiful backdrop I thought, "See, I don't hate everything about this place. What a unique experience I get to have right now. I never would have imagined that I would be playing at a park with my 1 year old son with Manhattan in the background."

source

I thought maybe I was rising out of this slump I've been feeling lately. The sun was shining for the first time in days. The cool breeze felt nice as I watched Blake play. 

Fast forward to this afternoon.

After making a trip to Costco, and let's be honest, that right there can ruin a perfectly good day, I was still in need of one ingredient: poppy seeds. Apparently New York doesn't believe in poppy seeds. Against my better judgment but out of desire to provide a great lunch for the women that make my life easier on Sundays, I decided that I'd walk a few blocks from Costco to see if any smaller supermarkets carried them. 2 stores and 19 blocks later, still no poppy seeds. And that's where my good day turned bad.

I know it seems so ridiculous. How could a little thing like poppy seeds ruin a perfectly good day? Well it's not just the poppy seeds. It's the fact that I feel like life in Brooklyn is so much harder than I'm used to. Nothing is ever simple. Everything has to be difficult to do. And time consuming. 

When we got home, I slammed the door and broke down. I stood there sweaty from huffin' it 19 blocks with tears streaming down my face. Blake just stared at me. I held out his sippy cup and said, "I'm sorry. I just hate this place. Everything is just so hard." He took his sippy cup and ran off to play. I drank a glass of water and composed myself. 

Fast forward to tonight. 

A few friends posted this article on facebook. I was intrigued because it was written by this guy, and I thought, "I'd like to read what he thinks about 9/11 and the years after." As I read, this brief sentence hit me like a ton of bricks, "But we are forgetful." And the flood gates opened. 

Why has it been so easy to forget all the wonderful things I have been blessed with and only focus on the difficult, trying times in my life? Why has it been so easy to forget my commitment to God and just go through the motions? When did that become who I am?

The article goes on to talk about our commitment to God. And his commitment to us. His unfailing commitment to us. As I continued reading I had a very clear image in my mind of how my Father in Heaven sees me:

I confidently choose a path and embark only to meet a few stumbling blocks. Maybe I fall off that path as my commitment to Him wanes. I trip and stumble and stop to sit on a rock and wonder, "Why me? Why do things have to be so hard for me?" All the while my Heavenly Father is there, watching over me. And He thinks, "Nope, not that way. That's not the way you need to go. But I'll let you go that way because I know you're trying. And you're forgetful. But when you remember, you'll dust yourself off and get back to where you need to be."

So in the midst of reading this article, an article meant to be about spirituality after 9/11 and how ten years later many have forgotten how they turned to God in those difficult times, I realized something not related to September 11th at all.

I have forgotten how good my life really is. How blessed I am to have the things that I have. And how without commitment, going through the motions is just a waste of time.

And while this realization doesn't make me want to run into the streets and profess my love for NYC or make day to day life here any easier, it does allow me to step back for a moment and just take it all in. These "afflictions shall be but a small moment."  So I should probably stop letting them feel bigger than they really are. 

Now if only I could find some poppy seeds...

Christmas in Pictures

This Christmas was by far the most fun because of Blake's age. And he had so much attention, he didn't know what to do with himself!

"Chritmas" morning

Reading the note Santa left.

Presents galore!

Uncle Jordan setting up the train track

Trevor and Papa

Squints

Post-Christmas day fun

A boy and his Papa.

The cutest little tricycle...

He closed his eyes whenever he started picking up speed!

Taking a break to be a male model.

It was back-breaking work to push that kid. So I heard.

Best and Worst of 2012

Lindsay gave me this idea when she posted her best and worst of 2012. And because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I'm doing one of my own.

Worst:
1. My rather rough pregnancy with Trevor. I didn't really blog much about it because I don't really want to remember it right now.
2. My hospital stay after delivering Trevor. I tried to recount my experiences. Those posts still don't do it justice.
3. Jerk-face old neighbor. So glad to be done with him.
4. Blake getting hand, foot, and mouth disease.

Best:
1. Having pretty much the easiest time ever potty training Blake. The only thing that would've made it better was if he trained himself. (This is not me gloating. I know 98% of our success is because he was excited to be out of diapers.)
2. Evan getting 2 promotions. He works hard for the money!
3. Having baby #2. If there's a second baby to have, it is definitely Trevor. He is incredibly agreeable and lets me sleep most nights.
4. A speedy c-section recovery. 
5. Blake's first time trick-or-treating.
6. Spending Christmas with my family. It gets harder to leave them each time we visit!
7. Seeing Wicked with Evan's family.
8. Going to fashion week. (Mostly because now I can say I've been.)
9. Conversations with Blake and his budding vocabulary.
10. The baby shower to end all baby showers.

2012 seemed like a rough year until I made this list. Overall it looks like it was a pretty good one. I wouldn't mind 2013 being even better!

SANTA!

Evan took Blake to see Santa at Macy's. And waited in line for 3 hours. He's a good dad.

Blake told me all about it when he got home:

Blake: I saw Santa!
Me: You did?! What did you tell him?
Blake: I tell him I want presents and he say yes! It was a real Santa!

Blake's enthusiasm reminds me of this little gem:

Delivered Part 3: The Ugly

Trevor spent Tuesday night in the nursery and I was able to get some decent sleep. I woke up Wednesday morning feeling pretty good. No headache. No neck ache. I knew a hot shower would feel really nice so I took one before the nurse brought Trevor to me. Wednesday passed quickly without much incident and I was excited to be going home the next day.

I felt bad that Trevor had spent so much time in the nursery so I decided to keep him with me that night. Around 1am he became inconsolable and I felt a dull headache coming on. I told myself that I was just tired and if I could get some sleep it would go away. I sent Trevor to the nursery once I calmed him down and tried to sleep. The only complaint I had about my roommate was that she liked to keep her light on all night and for some reason that night the light coming from her side of the room was making it impossible to sleep.

I woke up Thursday morning with the same dull headache. I tried not to panic thinking that the spinal headache had returned. I slowly sat up and the blinding pain returned. I texted Evan and told him it was back and that I needed him to get to the hospital as soon as possible because there was no way I could get all of my things together, Trevor ready, and be discharged without his help. Evan scrambled to get Blake ready and dropped him off early with Lindsay and made it to the hospital to find me laying in bed, a mess of tears.

Besides being upset that my headache had returned, I was terrified they were going to make me stay at the hospital. The on-call anesthesiologist came to see me and told me what my options were: 1) Another blood patch- This would be my third blood patch (I had a preventative blood patch while still on the operating table, then another one once the headache started) or 2) Lay flat and let it heal on its own, which could take a week.

I didn't really like either one of my options, but I decided to let the puncture heal on its own. After 2 failed blood patches I didn't want to risk being poked again and creating another hole in the membrane surrounding my spinal cord. I really needed my body to heal on its own so this headache would go away once and for all.

After coming to terms with the fact that I'd be leaving the hospital in a lot of pain, my focus turned to how I was going to manage being upright for at least ten minutes as we walked out of the hospital and waited for our ride home. The pain was so horrific when I had to sit or stand up, but I was willing to do whatever it took to get out of there.

One of the charge nurses came to check on me and said I should stay if I was in a lot of pain. I thanked her for being so helpful to me but told her that I absolutely could not stay at the hospital. I really just needed to be home.

My nurse came and had me sign a few forms and gave me a few instructions on taking care of myself and then we were free to go. Evan gathered all of my belongings, dressed Trevor, got him in the car seat, helped me out of bed and we headed out of the hospital room. Once I made it into the hallway the pain was terrible. I stopped by the front desk to turn in the necessary forms and walked as fast as I could to the elevator. I couldn't hold back the tears and didn't care who saw me crying. We finally made it outside and waited for our ride. At that point being vertical was too much to bear so I laid down. Outside. On a raised part of the sidewalk. I didn't care who saw me as long as no one rushed out and told me I needed to be readmitted to the hospital.

The Ugly

Melanie was giving us a ride and I'm actually grateful to her for taking some pictures. The corpse-like look I'm sporting here perfectly captures how I was feeling: like I was going to die. I tried to stay as flat as possible during the car ride home and the conversation was a welcome distraction from the pain.

We pulled up in front of our building and Evan helped me out of the car and into our apartment. I laid on the couch while he went back out to get Trevor and I just let all the tears I had been holding back for 3 days come gushing out. Even though having a roommate wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be (mostly because we complained to each other about how awful the nurse techs were and laughed about how pushy the hospital photographer was), I felt I had to keep my emotions somewhat in check because no one wants to be the woman who just had a baby and can't stop crying. So I just let everything come out. I was out of the hospital and couldn't be more grateful.

I wondered for a second as I laid on the couch whether I had made the right decision to leave the hospital. What if my headache didn't go away and I had to go back for another blood patch? It became very clear as soon as Evan returned from picking Blake up that he was going to be the best nurse I had ever had. And as stressful as it was for him to have to care for 3 human beings, he was up to the challenge. Being in the hospital was frustrating and stressful for me, but I gather that Evan was just as frustrated and stressed because he couldn't be there to help me. And I'm sure my frantic texts and weepy phone calls didn't help.

By Saturday afternoon I was taking prescription strength Motrin and popping caffeine pills every 3 hours to control the spinal headache. And it worked! My headache was gone by Sunday and I could finally live life like a normal human being.

I had survived pregnancy and giving birth in Brooklyn. None of it was easy and I will never do it again here. Ever. But having such a sweet baby like Trevor helps me look forward to our future as a family.

Worst Fear: Confirmed

Before Trevor was born I had one big fear: I was afraid Blake would start to feel less loved and cared about because of the time and attention a newborn requires.

Maybe it was inevitable. I don't know how to split my time between 2 little boys and it's becoming obvious.

When we first brought Trevor home, Blake was excited and curious. We made sure to help him understand how important being a good big brother is. And with Evan home from work and my mom and sister in town for a week to help out, Blake always had someone paying attention to him. But settling into real life when it's just me at home is bringing out the monster in me AND the sneaky/rude/angry little 2 year old who likes to provoke the monster, in Blake.

Tuesday was an especially hard day. I was exhausted from being up with Trevor in the night and had zero patience for Blake as soon as he was up for the day. And as the morning progressed and both boys needed more and more of my attention, I just got angrier and angrier. Lots of time outs and a few spankings later and I was ready to run away from this new life as a mom of two.

Wednesday was a little better. I was able to control my anger and did my best to stay calm when Blake threw a tantrum instead of flying off the handle like I had all day Tuesday. We went to a friend's house for a play date and while I was excited for Blake to be able to get out of the house and play with other kids, I didn't recognize the aggressive little boy who was pushing kids and angrily yelling at people. I felt like he was imitating my angry yelling.

Evan put Blake to bed that night and recounted a conversation he had with Blake. "Daddy, do you love me?" This isn't the first time Blake has asked this question. On a few occasions since Trevor was born, Blake has asked me, "Mommy, you don't love me?" or "Mommy, you don't like me?". He never asked that question before Trevor was born. My fear of Blake feeling unloved has been confirmed.

I knew life was going to be rough for a little while. And while everyone in our family is experiencing the struggles that sometimes come with big changes, I feel like Blake is feeling it the most.

After the nightmare that Tuesday was, I've started reviewing each day to look for what went well and what I will do better the next day. I can't go back and change the Tuesdays of each week where I've turned into someone I don't recognize. But I can make sure the next day is a little better so eventually both boys will get the love and attention they need and less of the anger and contention that takes over more frequently than I'd like to admit.

This motherhood stuff is hard.

Lost in NYC

Wendy's.

Probably my favorite place to grab a quick bite to eat. Unfortunately for my taste buds (but fortunately for my bank account and waistline) there is not a Wendy's within walking distance of where I live. So when I find out I'm going to be near a Wendy's, I arrange my outing to include a meal there.

Prior to heading to Ikea with my sister, I searched online to see if I could find a Wendy's nearby. There wasn't one super close, but I got directions to one and felt confident we could find it. We finished at Ikea and jumped in the car, ready for some of those delicious fries.

One missed turn later and we were heading over the Brooklyn Bridge. Into Manhattan. 1 woman who lives here but has never driven in the city, and 1 woman who is visiting from out of town. Lost in NYC.

As we drove across the bridge I grabbed my sister's phone and starting snapping pictures. As much as I was freaking out, I knew I needed to document this little mistake because I was never going to cross the Brooklyn Bridge in a car again unless it was in a taxi or a car service. Tori didn't really understand that we were heading into lower Manhattan until we got off the bridge and straight ahead was the Freedom Tower.

The GPS we were using couldn't recalculate fast enough to help us get back over the bridge. And when it started telling us to turn onto streets that we weren't coming upon, we really started to freak out. At one point I figured we'd have to park the car somewhere, abandon it, and find the nearest train station to get back home.

Finally the annoyingly calm GPS voice told us to turn onto a street we were actually coming up on and we found a sign that helped us get to the bridge. I breathed a big sigh of relief as we drove back into Brooklyn. A few more wrong turns and 1 abandoned mission to Wendy's later, we finally made it home.

Peanut butter and jelly never tasted so good.