Back after a LOOOOONG hiatus

It's been - oh like - 8 months since I've written here.

But I've been having that antsy feeling again.

You know - that feeling of really needing to blow off steam and vent and share and pontificate and just BE.

And not in the "let's put this in my Facebook status" kind of way.

So, I am back and will re-dedicate myself to writing in this blog.

Why?

For the same reasons I started.
To chronicle my kids' goings-on and funny stories - who were 3 when I started. And who are now 5 and going on Kindergarten in the fall. And who are growing up so damn fast.

And also, to provide an outlet to share thoughts around what-evs.
Politics.
Social etiquette.
Keeping up a social life in suburbia - a social life that now consists of kids' birthday parties, soccer games, bunco and book club with the neighborhood ladies. and, the occasional GNO and weekends away in Vegas.
Parenting.
Being a wife.
Managing a career. Or a job.
Balancing on a tight rope.
Fashion do's and don'ts for the late 30's/40's set (which seems to be a popular topic these days with my fellow momma girlfriends here in suburbia).

And even if no one else reads this but me, who gives a sh&t?! It's for me and my kids. And maybe, for my friends and whomever will want to read and listen and participate.

'Cause I have a lot to say, dammit. ;-)

I'm ba-ack.

Someone on FB reminded me the other day that I needed to update my blog (yes, that's you, M). And so I am.

I have to remember that I should not feel pressure to update this thing. And that this is here for my enjoyment, my venting outlet, and that updating this should be a fun thing.

It had been so long since I have updated this blog that I started feeling guilty for not updating it. And instead of addressing the guilt by taking action and blogging (even for just a short post), I kept prolonging it and then felt more and more guilty. Because of my guilt, I kept prolonging it and got into this virtuous cycle. (ever get into those cycles or is it just crazy me?!)

Well, I'm back. And I'm blogging. Even if it's about nothing. Or something short and quick. Or a silly, mundane thing that happened to me or the kids or US that I want to remember.

Because that's why I started this thing to begin with - to remember this crazy, busy, insane time in our lives when the kids are still this big, and life is THIS busy. Everyone I know with bigger or grown-up kids tells me that this time - this very special time - just zips by in a flash...and that someday, I'll want to remember and look back on these treasured days when the kids actually still want to hang out with me (instead of their friends) and when they are still so small that I can carry them without throwing out my back.

So here I am.

'xplainin the absence

busy, busy at work... management presentations galore.

family funeral last week in which i wrote the eulogy (more to come on this when i am repaired from this experience).

husband traveled this week, leaving me with kids all week long - along with a full plate at work. was pulling hair out.  four. days. straight.

i'll be back, just can't function enough to write a coherent blog post. 

am only capable of phrases and short snippets, a la Facebook statuses.

am depleted of energy but the old me shall return soon, thanks to my new found solace in yoga.

ooohhhhhmmmmm.

Mammed up and A-OK

Let me just start this post by saying that I have some strong hypochondriac tendencies.

When I get a bad migraine or start forgetting things, I think I have a brain tumor.

When I start to get the dullest of pain in my joints, I think I'm getting arthritis or think that I need to see an orthopedist because I might need surgery for seemingly permanent damage. 

When I get a little soreness or lumpy in my boobs, I think it's breast cancer.

Well, I nearly scared myself last month and was so convinced  that something was wrong with my breasts last month.  Google and a semi-hypochondriac like myself are a scary combination.  So, for my annual "Well Woman" visit earlier this month, I demanded that I get a mammogram.  

Never mind that I am not yet 40.  

Never mind that I don't have any real lumps that I could feel. 

Never mind that there is no history of breast cancer in my family.

Something just felt a little off.   I just wanted it for my piece of mind.

Not to mention, I am slowly inching towards the 40's and a few people (including friends or relatives of friends) I know have been diagnosed...Maybe it's just my age group, but I am slowly starting to become aware of the fact that it could happen.

So, while I was with the doctor for my "Well Woman" appointment, she told me that it was not likely going to be covered by insurance since I am not yet 40.  And then she proceeded to examine me.   Then she proceeded to tell me that she felt some density on my left breast. 

Hmmm.  Interesting.  

Not what I expected since I had been diligent about doing my own exams and had never before felt anything strange.

"Well, since I am feeling some density and because you seem to really want to get the mammogram, I will go ahead an order one."

Uh, OK.

Of course, with our fabulous (being facetious) health care system here in the States, I had to wait another 3 weeks before getting an appointment with radiology.

And this past Thursday, I finally had my appointment in the Breast Cancer Center radiology department of the hospital which mind you, is a large university teaching hospital.  Great.  The Breast Cancer Center radiology, as opposed to just any radiology department.  Not great for a hypo like me to enter a place like this.  I was kind of freaking out, but my 40+ female friends said not to worry...They basically ran me through the drill:

Don't wear any deodorant.  

Don't put lotion or perfume on your chest. 

Wear pants and a top, not a one-piece dress. 

Be prepared for some discomfort when they pancake your breasts top-to-bottom and left-to-right.

And even if they find something, chances are great that it could still be benign.  

Etc.

 

So I went in, changed into my exam garb and sat in the waiting room.  I was probably the youngest woman there (which made sense).  Then, I got called in and had my very first mammogram and ultrasound.  And it wasn't so bad.

The worst of it was waiting for the radiologist's review and wondering if my life was going to change significantly.

And.  The.  News. Was.

Negative.  

Phhhheewwww.

I'm sure this means that I will now worry about some other ailment that I don't have.

Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man

It's been a while since I've posted about Barack Obama so I thought I would do it again for good measure, especially in anticipation (and celebration!) of his upcoming inauguration to be our 44th President (yah!!!!!) on January 20th.  

Truly a big moment for our country.  We have come such a long way.

A friend posted this article on Facebook today of an open letter from Barack to his daughters, Malia and Sasha.  In it, he shares why he embarked on his campaign journey and what he envisions for his little girls and all children.

I so <3 heart <3 Barack.  I so hope he does not disappoint and that he exceeds all expectations.

Godspeed, President-Elect Obama.

Writing Exercise for the Soul

I found this writing exercise from a blog friend, Aaryn Belfer, who I also happen to have met through mutual friends in real life before I re-met her in the blogosphere.  (Go figure...Small world, indeed).  Anyway,  she has a blog I stalk on occasion.   She is also a brilliant photographer and staff writer for CityBeat here in San Diego.  

Anyway,  I really loved what this writing exercise illuminated about her, even though I barely know her.  I decided to do this for myself and post it here.  I know am putting myself out there by doing this, but it also feels strangely liberating.   And it makes me feel so damn self-aware.

If you read this and decide to do this as well, please let me know.  I would love, love, love to check it out.

__________________________________________

I live my life with purpose, but all too often with an eye toward the future instead of the present.  And I am all too aware of it.

I work to satisfy a need I have to do something more than be a wife, a mom, a...whatever.  And even though it takes away from precious family time on occasion, I need to be unapologetic about it.

I talk out loud to myself when I need to build up my confidence about something I need to say. Sometimes I think I'm crazy.

I wish that I didn't worry as much as I do as it's causing me not to live more in the moment.

I enjoy spending Saturday mornings  listening to my children play and interact with one another upstairs while my husband and I enjoy a coffee and reflect on our great life together, all the while our favorite iPod playlist is playing our life soundtrack in the background.

I look at my midsection every day and vow to get a tummy tuck...one of these days.

I smell my children's scent and deeply breathe in their aura every time I hug them.  Pure bliss.

I hide my insecurities from very few, but for the most part, I am an open book.

I pray when I run.  More like reflect.  Running provides a state of spirituality for me that I cannot find in any organized religious forum.

I walk only when I can't run.  Walking feels wimpy to me.

I sing at the top of my lungs in the car when I'm by myself.  Especially during American Idol season when I realize that anyone can be a rock star if they really wanted to set their mind to it.

I can do-it-all-dammit.  Or at least I try.    Just watch me, and maybe I'll even try harder.

I watch my husband interact with our children and am in awe of him and how patient and loving he is with them.   I really lucked out when I married him.  

I yearn to travel the world, live overseas and be an ex-pat, but realize that our life here could severely limit the prospect of doing so.  Which leads me to...

I daydream about being a contestant on the Amazing Race with my husband and seeing how it would potentially hurt or strengthen our marriage.  After all, it is our mutual love of travel and wanderlust that initially brought us together.  I also daydream (can I do another one??) of winning the lottery and what I would do with the money.  I wonder how it would change our lives, positively and negatively.  

I want (secretly) sometimes to keep up with the Joneses but then I catch myself doing it and then blow it off as a silly thought.

I cry at the drop of a hat, at the smallest things, and things that don't really warrant tears. Commercials, cheesy movies, even NCAA championships and Superbowl games.  Vaccination shots, kids' holiday pageants, you name it.

I read too little (in this post-babies era) and when I do I am embarrassed to tell people what I read because they consist of non-intelligent things.   Like Us magazine.  Or Lucky.   Or Perez Hilton.com.   Hey, I think political websites count as intelligent right?

I love my life but often wonder what other untapped potential there is waiting for me.

I wonder what is going on in my children's heads when I am conversing with them.

I touch my children's face and am in awe that there is still a whole lifetime of highs and lows that they have yet to experience.  And...

I hurt knowing that my children will at some point feel pain, sadness, guilt, inadequacy but that with the right coping skills that  we can help instill in them, they will be OK.

I fear dying and being abandoned, but I take solace in the fact that I attempt to live each day with purpose. 

I hope that the new president-elect does not disappoint.  The world's hopes lie in his ability to lead, especially after 8 years of virtually no leadership.

I eat out less often than I used to when I was single.  And when I do, it usually involves somewhere loud and a coloring book menu and crayons.

I break promises to my children sometimes when I bribe them.  When I see the look of disappointment in their faces, it breaks my heart and I think I'm a terrible mother.

I quit my unhealthy social smoking habit years ago, but I still sometimes crave a cigarette. Especially after a few glasses of wine.  Because it makes me feel like a bad-ass.

I bathe with my children in the shower and have come to really enjoy the typically mundane bath-time routine through their eyes.  Who knew that cups and bath paints could entertain so much?

I drink too much caffeine and alcohol and too little water.

I save like I am an immigrant who is hording cash to send back to the family in the motherland. Perhaps because that is what my parents did when I was growing up?

I hug my children's little bodies and savor their petite size now, knowing that hugs will come fewer and far between in several years.

 

I miss the giddiness I used to feel when I first met my husband and yearn for that giddiness on those many days in recent years when I feel as if we are two ships passing in the night.  And I wonder if all marriages follow this pattern and realize I am not alone.

I forgive my father, who has hurt me too many times during the most important events of my life.  I now realize that he has always been an attention-seeker and this was his way of satisfying this need.

I've learned that marriage is an unnatural act.  Putting two people together for the rest of their lives just goes against basic human instincts.  This is why marriage takes work.  And if you have found the right person it makes all the work worth it.

I have wonderful girlfriends who keep me grounded and in check, when my husband can't.

I don't have to do anything I don't want, but sometimes I do out of a sense of responsibility and obligation, because that's how I was raised.

I kiss my kids every night and stare at them as they sleep.  I love that peace I feel when I look at my slumbering children (as opposed to when they are awake and jumping on me).

I wonder if I've learned anything new about myself going through this exercise...