I am still here, I swear, and I'm reading all of my usual favorite blogs. I wish I could say that I'm on vacation or taking a summer hiatus, but I've actually been working a lot since I last wrote. I'm teaching a summer class ("The Short Story," which has been a blast--9 students, all of whom are interested, talkative, and smart!) and am working with our university's Teaching and Learning Center to get ready to teach other new teachers about pedagogy. And on top of all that, I'm doing my regular administrative/faculty job of hiring adjunct instructors and helping to run our program.
This is all good, I guess, but I'm feeling pretty run down and am wishing I had a bit more time to rest and relax. I'm not sure what I'd be doing if I were relaxing. W is in daycare three days a week and on the other two days, I usually have my husband here with me and W. We play outside, we go for walks, and we watch a bit of Sesa.me Street. And even those "off" days wear me out. I mostly want to sit on the couch and do nothing other than snuggle with W, and he's not in a snuggly mood. He's in a run around the house and play kind of mood.
The biggest news is that I'm feeling ready--really ready--for this baby to come and there are still 7 weeks left (i'm 33 weeks pregnant as of tomorrow). I didn't feel this way the first time around, and what I've learned is that second pregnancies are physically harder in many ways. One, I started up 10 lbs higher than I did when I was pregnant with W. It may only be 10 lbs, but I feel much bigger and more stretched than I was before. Two, round ligament pains are WAY worse the second time around. As the midwife recently said, "it feels like a knife stabbing in your side, right?" Yes, yes it does. They're so bad I was crying a few weeks ago thinking that it was premature labor. Nope. Just ligament pain. Three, chasing a toddler around is next to impossible. I'm much more tired than I remember being last time, and my breathing is already way more labored than before. I seriously sound like I'm having an asthma attack most of the time. So even though I want her to stay in, keep baking until she's ready to come out, I've about had it with the discomfort. Working full time while I'm carrying all this weight and working so hard really sucks. There's just no way around it.
I'm still thrilled to be pregnant, to be relatively healthy, and to be headed into these last few weeks in a relatively good space, albeit a tired one. I suppose it's like running a marathon, not that I've ever done that, of course. This may be as close as I ever get to a marathon, in fact. But if this is a marathon, I must be in mile 17 or 18, right? I must be closing in on the end. Maybe I'm just hitting the dreaded "wall"?
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
writing the perfect comment
There are some great posts about commenting in the last few days. Jjiraffe, for example, has a wonderful series of posts that have got me thinking and wanting to comment more often than usual. And in the earliest of her posts, you can see links to some other commenting posts--all worth checking out.
I love commenting. The biggest barrier for me to commenting more often is my own anxiety about writing. I tend to overthink and overwrite, and so a simple "click" to say "great post--I agree!" turns easily into a two hour process of drafting and revising. Ridiculous, I know. But true. I've gotten better and better, though, not necessarily at writing, but at just pushing through and cutting off the revision process. When I want to say "great post," more often than not, I say just that, even if it's short and cryptic. These are baby steps--I'm working on being less judgmental of my own writing, and commenting has been a meaningful way to do so.
I love getting comments, too. I'm not a heavy-duty blogger (as if I needed to tell you that!) and I'm inconsistent (see above: overthinking and overwriting adds up to lots of draft posts and few published ones). I also have absolutely no community to speak of. I read several bloggers who have long-time friends through their blogs, who have connected with a specific group or set of friends, or who have dedicated readers. Again, I'm not one of those people. I have yet to talk to a blogger one-on-one, and I often feel like a schoolgirl with blogger-crushes. I have a feeling, though, that I'm not alone. I bet there are more bloggers like me out there, but we're all kinda kicking our toes in the dirt on the side of the playground hoping that someday we'd be able to play hopscotch with others.
I also have "Conscientious Avoider" tendencies. I work a lot and much of my free time is spent hanging with W and my DH. I read blogs quickly (though with respect and purpose) and if I stopped to comment every time I really wanted to, I'd have to cut down on my work or family life. It's not that I'm busier than anyone else--man, do I admire those of you who maintain active blogging/commenting practices while also working and being a mom--but it's that I'm not quick enough. I'm a slow thinker and responder, and so not only do I revise endlessly, I need time and space to decide what I really want to say. And, true to Avoider status, I worry a lot about hurting a blogger with words that come out wrong. Further, I know that being currently pregnant means that if someone blithely clicks my profile and ends up here, they could find me and my blog upsetting. This would be the absolute last thing I'd want. I'm not an IF blogger nor am I a mommy blogger. I don't know what I am--my reading of blogs straddles many boundaries and categories. Sometimes those categories clash. So I read, think, and sometimes, I avoid joining in the discussion, not out of dislike, but out of deep respect.
I've been reminded of two important things as a result of reading these posts on commenting. One, I need to be less afraid. The playground is huge and even though I sometimes feel like I'm left out of the cliques, it's really okay. I need to do less revision, less hesitant writing, and less worrying about whether my comment is good or not. I need to be a zen commenter. I also probably need to do less avoidance. Yes, my words or my existence might offend someone, but honestly, that happens without my even knowing it sometimes. I can't get better at this unless I jump in.
Two, I'm really interested in the commenting-back option. I get a few comments in dribs and drabs, and I always read and appreciate them (more than you know). But I don't always respond, I guess because I never thought it was acceptable practice. The big bloggers I've read in the past certainly don't do it, and even the small bloggers I read don't either. Recently, I've noticed a few who do respond either with a direct reply-comment or by commenting on my blog, and I think it's a great way to acknowledge the connection. I'm going to start doing it, in other words. Replying could take less time than a usual comment, I think, and it would make literal the actual appreciation I have for people who take a moment to write to me through the blog. It creates an actual relationship where there wasn't one, even if that relationship is just for a moment. Beautiful.
So I want to thank everyone who has read my both to thank the bloggers I read and to remind myself yet again that commenting is valuable and that I should be
I love commenting. The biggest barrier for me to commenting more often is my own anxiety about writing. I tend to overthink and overwrite, and so a simple "click" to say "great post--I agree!" turns easily into a two hour process of drafting and revising. Ridiculous, I know. But true. I've gotten better and better, though, not necessarily at writing, but at just pushing through and cutting off the revision process. When I want to say "great post," more often than not, I say just that, even if it's short and cryptic. These are baby steps--I'm working on being less judgmental of my own writing, and commenting has been a meaningful way to do so.
I love getting comments, too. I'm not a heavy-duty blogger (as if I needed to tell you that!) and I'm inconsistent (see above: overthinking and overwriting adds up to lots of draft posts and few published ones). I also have absolutely no community to speak of. I read several bloggers who have long-time friends through their blogs, who have connected with a specific group or set of friends, or who have dedicated readers. Again, I'm not one of those people. I have yet to talk to a blogger one-on-one, and I often feel like a schoolgirl with blogger-crushes. I have a feeling, though, that I'm not alone. I bet there are more bloggers like me out there, but we're all kinda kicking our toes in the dirt on the side of the playground hoping that someday we'd be able to play hopscotch with others.
I also have "Conscientious Avoider" tendencies. I work a lot and much of my free time is spent hanging with W and my DH. I read blogs quickly (though with respect and purpose) and if I stopped to comment every time I really wanted to, I'd have to cut down on my work or family life. It's not that I'm busier than anyone else--man, do I admire those of you who maintain active blogging/commenting practices while also working and being a mom--but it's that I'm not quick enough. I'm a slow thinker and responder, and so not only do I revise endlessly, I need time and space to decide what I really want to say. And, true to Avoider status, I worry a lot about hurting a blogger with words that come out wrong. Further, I know that being currently pregnant means that if someone blithely clicks my profile and ends up here, they could find me and my blog upsetting. This would be the absolute last thing I'd want. I'm not an IF blogger nor am I a mommy blogger. I don't know what I am--my reading of blogs straddles many boundaries and categories. Sometimes those categories clash. So I read, think, and sometimes, I avoid joining in the discussion, not out of dislike, but out of deep respect.
I've been reminded of two important things as a result of reading these posts on commenting. One, I need to be less afraid. The playground is huge and even though I sometimes feel like I'm left out of the cliques, it's really okay. I need to do less revision, less hesitant writing, and less worrying about whether my comment is good or not. I need to be a zen commenter. I also probably need to do less avoidance. Yes, my words or my existence might offend someone, but honestly, that happens without my even knowing it sometimes. I can't get better at this unless I jump in.
Two, I'm really interested in the commenting-back option. I get a few comments in dribs and drabs, and I always read and appreciate them (more than you know). But I don't always respond, I guess because I never thought it was acceptable practice. The big bloggers I've read in the past certainly don't do it, and even the small bloggers I read don't either. Recently, I've noticed a few who do respond either with a direct reply-comment or by commenting on my blog, and I think it's a great way to acknowledge the connection. I'm going to start doing it, in other words. Replying could take less time than a usual comment, I think, and it would make literal the actual appreciation I have for people who take a moment to write to me through the blog. It creates an actual relationship where there wasn't one, even if that relationship is just for a moment. Beautiful.
So I want to thank everyone who has read my both to thank the bloggers I read and to remind myself yet again that commenting is valuable and that I should be
Thursday, May 26, 2011
blogger commenting
Is anyone else having trouble with commenting because of Blogger? I've lost tons of comments I've written for ICLW because Blogger keeps asking me to log in (even though I'm already logged in). And then, after logging in, it erases my comment and brings me back to the log in page.
Frustrating. And I suppose no one will be able to comment on this message because of the Blogger mess. Ugh. This is putting a serious cramp in my ICLW week; I may extend ICLW past the 28th to make up for all my lost comments.
Just had to rant for a moment. I just lost three comments in a row on some awesome blogs I found from the big list. Boo, Blogger!
Frustrating. And I suppose no one will be able to comment on this message because of the Blogger mess. Ugh. This is putting a serious cramp in my ICLW week; I may extend ICLW past the 28th to make up for all my lost comments.
Just had to rant for a moment. I just lost three comments in a row on some awesome blogs I found from the big list. Boo, Blogger!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
staying motivated while working at home
I cannot imagine how people who work from home full time do it. I admire that they have so much motivation and focus. I, however, am a mess when working from home.
As I've mentioned in the sidebar, I'm a college professor (non-tenure track if you know anything about the academic life--it's not relevant to this particular post, but I'll talk about the non-tenure track someday, I promise). Summer is both a blessing and a curse for me. I love that I have a flexible work schedule. This week, for instance, I went in yesterday from 9-2 and that's it. I can work from home all the other days. And my work load? It's much reduced from the load during a regular semester. I'm not currently teaching, so there are no students to confer with or grade papers for, and my work projects aren't due in any immediate fashion. I can work on them slowly and over the next few weeks/months whenever I feel like it.
The problem: I just don't feel like it. I can find a million other things to do. I'm halfway through the second book in the Hunger Games trilogy, I'd love to work on the backyard, I have plenty of trashy tv on the dvr to catch up on, and there are movies to get to, both in the theater and on dvd. Man, those work projects seem pretty low on the list! I haven't even mentioned the internet (my most significant time suck). I have done almost nothing today. I conducted one phone interview with a potential instructor for fall and that's it.
I suppose I need to learn some tricks of the WAHM trade, like making myself a schedule, planning my long-term projects by breaking them down into smaller pieces (and giving myself interim due dates for these pieces), and limiting my "fun" time during the day. I've done this before...when I wrote my dissertation, I broke the chapters into little chunks and did what my friend and I called "hits," which were small increments of time to write that, if I met my day's quota, would be rewarded with a matinee or a take-out dinner. Without this strategy, I would have remained ABD forever. Not so incidentally, it was during this dissertation-writing time that I discovered I had adult ADD, and this "hit" strategy is one that I've since read about in books as one strategy that works well for people with limited attention spans. I wish I had realized the ADD thing earlier in my adult life. (Strangely, I don't think I had problems with ADD as a child/adolescent...could it have developed in college sometime? Hmmm.)
Let's just start today. Here is my list of things to do before 4:30 when I pick up W from daycare (none of which are work-related, I know, but at least they'll get me up off my butt):
- clean up the deck in the backyard, but don't linger. Just get it done. Tomorrow, I'll work on planting some flowers in the deck planters.
- vacuum. sigh.
- clean up kitchen (mostly clean, but needs a sprucing)
- grocery shop (milk, butter, cookies?)
- do my ICLW comments for the day (joy!)
That's an easy list, right? For crying out loud, I can do this! If anyone has suggestions about how they manage to get things done when they're working at/around/from home all day, they'd be sorely appreciated. I am clearly not good at this timte management thing and could use all the help I can get.
As I've mentioned in the sidebar, I'm a college professor (non-tenure track if you know anything about the academic life--it's not relevant to this particular post, but I'll talk about the non-tenure track someday, I promise). Summer is both a blessing and a curse for me. I love that I have a flexible work schedule. This week, for instance, I went in yesterday from 9-2 and that's it. I can work from home all the other days. And my work load? It's much reduced from the load during a regular semester. I'm not currently teaching, so there are no students to confer with or grade papers for, and my work projects aren't due in any immediate fashion. I can work on them slowly and over the next few weeks/months whenever I feel like it.
The problem: I just don't feel like it. I can find a million other things to do. I'm halfway through the second book in the Hunger Games trilogy, I'd love to work on the backyard, I have plenty of trashy tv on the dvr to catch up on, and there are movies to get to, both in the theater and on dvd. Man, those work projects seem pretty low on the list! I haven't even mentioned the internet (my most significant time suck). I have done almost nothing today. I conducted one phone interview with a potential instructor for fall and that's it.
I suppose I need to learn some tricks of the WAHM trade, like making myself a schedule, planning my long-term projects by breaking them down into smaller pieces (and giving myself interim due dates for these pieces), and limiting my "fun" time during the day. I've done this before...when I wrote my dissertation, I broke the chapters into little chunks and did what my friend and I called "hits," which were small increments of time to write that, if I met my day's quota, would be rewarded with a matinee or a take-out dinner. Without this strategy, I would have remained ABD forever. Not so incidentally, it was during this dissertation-writing time that I discovered I had adult ADD, and this "hit" strategy is one that I've since read about in books as one strategy that works well for people with limited attention spans. I wish I had realized the ADD thing earlier in my adult life. (Strangely, I don't think I had problems with ADD as a child/adolescent...could it have developed in college sometime? Hmmm.)
Let's just start today. Here is my list of things to do before 4:30 when I pick up W from daycare (none of which are work-related, I know, but at least they'll get me up off my butt):
- clean up the deck in the backyard, but don't linger. Just get it done. Tomorrow, I'll work on planting some flowers in the deck planters.
- vacuum. sigh.
- clean up kitchen (mostly clean, but needs a sprucing)
- grocery shop (milk, butter, cookies?)
- do my ICLW comments for the day (joy!)
That's an easy list, right? For crying out loud, I can do this! If anyone has suggestions about how they manage to get things done when they're working at/around/from home all day, they'd be sorely appreciated. I am clearly not good at this timte management thing and could use all the help I can get.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sensitivity in the Supermarket: How to be sensitive in public with a kid (or kids)
One of my favorite things to do with W is go to the supermarket. He LOVES it. His little squeals echo down the aisles, there are many things to touch and see, and the aisles are perfect for an almost-running toddler to practice his stride.
However, and paradoxically, one of my least favorite things to do with W is go to the supermarket because it reminds me of what life was like when W wasn't here and I was in a difficult place with babymaking. I remember all too well how it felt to go to the market, a place I *had* to visit to buy food and toilet paper, and see someone's bratty little kid running around giggling. Why? I didn't have a bratty little kid of my own. And during a miscarriage, the last thing I really wanted to see was a happy mother and baby in public. I felt like a horrible person about it--why couldn't I just be happy to see them? Why couldn't I delight in the idea that maybe I would one day be that mother? Answer: I just couldn't and it was okay and fair to feel that way. Even now, I feel that same sting, sometimes even as I'm holding W in my arms.
The supermarket (or, the world) is a contradictory place.
So yesterday, while we were wandering the supermarket aisles, I started mentally compiling a list of things that I could/should do when in public to be sensitive to others, especially fellow infertiles who might need or wish for a little space. This is certainly not the first time I've thought about this--I think about it almost every time I'm in a public place with him.
Here is the list--feel free to add other thoughts or suggestions in the comments!
1. Be humble and apologize if the kid runs right up to someone else's cart with joy, even if I'm not sure whether the cart-pusher is unhappy or not. Humility never hurt anyone and it can ease the mind on both sides. I remember appreciating parents who did this when I was TTC or going through a rough time. I hope I can do the same for someone else.
2. Try to keep the kid in the cart (or calm and not squealing) as much as possible. For me, it's possible for almost 3/4 of the supermarket trip. But at some point, W squirms and whines to run and play. I think parents should always do the best we can to keep the child in our control in places like supermarkets.
3. Don't force interaction between the kid and other shoppers. I've been the unfortunate recipient of a forced interaction where a mother was encouraging her son to say "hi" to me, and all I wanted to do was get away. Instead, I had to wait as the cute kid attempted to say hello, and I had to be cheery and sweet in response. Ugh. If a shopper wants to interact with my kid: fine! If the kid is starting the interaction, lead him away unless it's absolutely clear that the shopper is welcoming the interaction. Otherwise, remember #1: humility.
4. Remember that supermarkets do not belong to children and families. I know this seems like common sense, but toddlers think that everything belongs to them, and so it is the job of the parent to teach the child where and when those feelings of entitlement are appropriate. This means that one or two squeals down the aisle are enough. Then, it's time to redirect and let others have space. Singing songs in line is cute for a minute, but then it's enough. Bring toys and open the bag of cookies to fill the kid's mouth with something to (quietly) pacify him. Supermarkets and other very public places should be safe for all people, and it's a parent's job to make it so.
5. Smiling and being happy with the kid is fine. But don't be obnoxious about it. There are 23 other hours of the day to grin with joy at my child, and I don't need to do it so openly in public places like supermarkets.
However, and paradoxically, one of my least favorite things to do with W is go to the supermarket because it reminds me of what life was like when W wasn't here and I was in a difficult place with babymaking. I remember all too well how it felt to go to the market, a place I *had* to visit to buy food and toilet paper, and see someone's bratty little kid running around giggling. Why? I didn't have a bratty little kid of my own. And during a miscarriage, the last thing I really wanted to see was a happy mother and baby in public. I felt like a horrible person about it--why couldn't I just be happy to see them? Why couldn't I delight in the idea that maybe I would one day be that mother? Answer: I just couldn't and it was okay and fair to feel that way. Even now, I feel that same sting, sometimes even as I'm holding W in my arms.
The supermarket (or, the world) is a contradictory place.
So yesterday, while we were wandering the supermarket aisles, I started mentally compiling a list of things that I could/should do when in public to be sensitive to others, especially fellow infertiles who might need or wish for a little space. This is certainly not the first time I've thought about this--I think about it almost every time I'm in a public place with him.
Here is the list--feel free to add other thoughts or suggestions in the comments!
1. Be humble and apologize if the kid runs right up to someone else's cart with joy, even if I'm not sure whether the cart-pusher is unhappy or not. Humility never hurt anyone and it can ease the mind on both sides. I remember appreciating parents who did this when I was TTC or going through a rough time. I hope I can do the same for someone else.
2. Try to keep the kid in the cart (or calm and not squealing) as much as possible. For me, it's possible for almost 3/4 of the supermarket trip. But at some point, W squirms and whines to run and play. I think parents should always do the best we can to keep the child in our control in places like supermarkets.
3. Don't force interaction between the kid and other shoppers. I've been the unfortunate recipient of a forced interaction where a mother was encouraging her son to say "hi" to me, and all I wanted to do was get away. Instead, I had to wait as the cute kid attempted to say hello, and I had to be cheery and sweet in response. Ugh. If a shopper wants to interact with my kid: fine! If the kid is starting the interaction, lead him away unless it's absolutely clear that the shopper is welcoming the interaction. Otherwise, remember #1: humility.
4. Remember that supermarkets do not belong to children and families. I know this seems like common sense, but toddlers think that everything belongs to them, and so it is the job of the parent to teach the child where and when those feelings of entitlement are appropriate. This means that one or two squeals down the aisle are enough. Then, it's time to redirect and let others have space. Singing songs in line is cute for a minute, but then it's enough. Bring toys and open the bag of cookies to fill the kid's mouth with something to (quietly) pacify him. Supermarkets and other very public places should be safe for all people, and it's a parent's job to make it so.
5. Smiling and being happy with the kid is fine. But don't be obnoxious about it. There are 23 other hours of the day to grin with joy at my child, and I don't need to do it so openly in public places like supermarkets.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
having it all?
I'm working on my big post about being a work-out-of-the-home mommy, and it should be ready soon. I'm writing it mostly for me so that I can keep figuring out who I am as a mommy, as a teacher, and as a person. But in the meantime, I have a confession to make: although I am an English professor who teaches writing, I am a terrible blog writer. Want a 25 page academic article on an obscure pedagogical theory? Give me a weekend and I'll bang it out. Want a one paragraph blog post every few days? Hmmm.... Let me work on it and I'll get back to you in 10-15 days. Ugh. How do you people do it so well? I'm in awe of those of you who post regularly and write so beautifully on the fly.
For today, I'll just share one thought about being a work-out-of-the-home mommy. Even though I love working, and it feeds my soul in so many ways I can't imagine not doing it, I desperately miss my baby when I'm not with him. This thought is brought home today because W is in daycare and I'm working from home (my car is in the shop and I couldn't get to campus easily). In other words, I'm home and my baby is in daycare singing little songs with his friends and doing arts and crafts.
I miss him so much. I couldn't keep him home because I really had work to do, and I knew I wouldn't get it done if he were here. But oh, man, do I miss him. When I'm at work, it's not that palpable--I'm busy, I'm working with colleagues, and I'm speaking to students in my office. I think about W every few minutes when I'm at work, but I'm able to remind myself I'll see him soon. At home? It's a different story. I see his toys, I miss him. I make lunch and realize I don't have to make him lunch, I miss him. I check email without having a 17-month old toddler wailing for the computer mouse, I miss him. I'm literally counting the hours until I can go get my car and get him. It happens when my husband takes him to the park or something to give me a break--I usually end up not enjoying my time alone and instead, I spend my time wondering whether W is enjoying the swings or if they're stopping for ice cream.
I suppose this is the paradox of working outside the home and being a mommy: many of us want to work and enjoy being out of the home and doing non-baby-related things, but we also desperately want to be with our kids. I never wanted to "have it all," and in fact, I used to make fun of people who claimed to want it all, but I think I finally get what that phrase means.
For today, I'll just share one thought about being a work-out-of-the-home mommy. Even though I love working, and it feeds my soul in so many ways I can't imagine not doing it, I desperately miss my baby when I'm not with him. This thought is brought home today because W is in daycare and I'm working from home (my car is in the shop and I couldn't get to campus easily). In other words, I'm home and my baby is in daycare singing little songs with his friends and doing arts and crafts.
I miss him so much. I couldn't keep him home because I really had work to do, and I knew I wouldn't get it done if he were here. But oh, man, do I miss him. When I'm at work, it's not that palpable--I'm busy, I'm working with colleagues, and I'm speaking to students in my office. I think about W every few minutes when I'm at work, but I'm able to remind myself I'll see him soon. At home? It's a different story. I see his toys, I miss him. I make lunch and realize I don't have to make him lunch, I miss him. I check email without having a 17-month old toddler wailing for the computer mouse, I miss him. I'm literally counting the hours until I can go get my car and get him. It happens when my husband takes him to the park or something to give me a break--I usually end up not enjoying my time alone and instead, I spend my time wondering whether W is enjoying the swings or if they're stopping for ice cream.
I suppose this is the paradox of working outside the home and being a mommy: many of us want to work and enjoy being out of the home and doing non-baby-related things, but we also desperately want to be with our kids. I never wanted to "have it all," and in fact, I used to make fun of people who claimed to want it all, but I think I finally get what that phrase means.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
still breathing
First, a quick update. We got the second and final round of sequential screening results and they're much better than the first. For Down syndrome, it's 1 in 2,800, for neural tube disorders, it's 1 in 6,500, and for the other trisomies, it's 1 in 10,000. Much better. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I was really getting ready to do the amnio and was feeling panicky on a daily basis, but these numbers have allowed the demons to retreat a bit (for now) and for me to start enjoying the pregnancy again. Yes, this baby could be the 1 in any one of those scenarios; as they say, someone has to be that one. But I've breathed a lot in the last few weeks, I've read more about Down syndrome, and have accepted that this baby will be who it is and we will love it unconditionally. That's what unconditional means, right?
My meditation group has been a great help to me, not because I've shared any of this with them or even expressed my rampant anxieties. It's just been great to have them there, week after week. As they breathe in and out, so do I. And life goes on and on. We just finished reading Momma Zen, which I enjoyed quite a bit, and we're on to read something else about parenthood and buddhism. Keeping me sane.
I miss blogging. I've been blogging off and on in some form since 2000, and I read blogs obsessively. Those of you who stop by to read every now and then: I DO read your blogs and I appreciate your willingness to keep reading mine from time to time. I'll figure out what I'm doing here soon enough. But really: I'm reading and am walking this path with you. Thank you for sticking with me, a new blogger on the scene.
By the way, I have a new post germinating in draft form about working full time and being a mom. It started as a rant but I'm refining it into a statement of purpose, and I hope to get it up later this week. Honestly, the thing that stops me from having time to blog and comment more often is work, damnit.
My meditation group has been a great help to me, not because I've shared any of this with them or even expressed my rampant anxieties. It's just been great to have them there, week after week. As they breathe in and out, so do I. And life goes on and on. We just finished reading Momma Zen, which I enjoyed quite a bit, and we're on to read something else about parenthood and buddhism. Keeping me sane.
I miss blogging. I've been blogging off and on in some form since 2000, and I read blogs obsessively. Those of you who stop by to read every now and then: I DO read your blogs and I appreciate your willingness to keep reading mine from time to time. I'll figure out what I'm doing here soon enough. But really: I'm reading and am walking this path with you. Thank you for sticking with me, a new blogger on the scene.
By the way, I have a new post germinating in draft form about working full time and being a mom. It started as a rant but I'm refining it into a statement of purpose, and I hope to get it up later this week. Honestly, the thing that stops me from having time to blog and comment more often is work, damnit.
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