Thursday, February 25, 2016
Have you ever been a part of a team? Not just on a team, a part of it.
I was running downtown tonight and came to a stoplight. We were down by the waterfront and clearly no one would be coming down this street just then - I looked at the runner across the intersection from me. We made eye contact and both started running toward one another - we were going for it - both crossing from our opposite sides. I had an incredible desire to reach out my hand and give him a high five in passing. But he looked away. In that split-second connection, the amazing feeling of being part of a team had lept back to flames inside me. Tagging out - checking in - great job - go get 'em - a high five at a run.
I've been on a lot of teams over the years: on the field, the court, the classroom and the office, but being a part of a team, not so often.
It's a good feeling. I'm looking for it - also, I want to learn how to create real teams, real teamwork. Having a group of people more concerned with working hard together, building each other up, pushing each other, sharing their tricks and secrets, challenging each other, feeling free to be strong themselves; good Lord, creating with a group of people like that - getting into a tough situation together - taking on some crazy feat and walking away successful- it's sooo ridiculously good you guys!!
I think I'm going to start offering high fives to any jogger I pass when on a jog. Also, I'm gonna build myself a team. I'm going to work better at being not just a teammate - but back to being a captain.
I was running downtown tonight and came to a stoplight. We were down by the waterfront and clearly no one would be coming down this street just then - I looked at the runner across the intersection from me. We made eye contact and both started running toward one another - we were going for it - both crossing from our opposite sides. I had an incredible desire to reach out my hand and give him a high five in passing. But he looked away. In that split-second connection, the amazing feeling of being part of a team had lept back to flames inside me. Tagging out - checking in - great job - go get 'em - a high five at a run.
I've been on a lot of teams over the years: on the field, the court, the classroom and the office, but being a part of a team, not so often.
It's a good feeling. I'm looking for it - also, I want to learn how to create real teams, real teamwork. Having a group of people more concerned with working hard together, building each other up, pushing each other, sharing their tricks and secrets, challenging each other, feeling free to be strong themselves; good Lord, creating with a group of people like that - getting into a tough situation together - taking on some crazy feat and walking away successful- it's sooo ridiculously good you guys!!
I think I'm going to start offering high fives to any jogger I pass when on a jog. Also, I'm gonna build myself a team. I'm going to work better at being not just a teammate - but back to being a captain.
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Gardens
It's difficult to weed someone else's garden.
Years ago, when my mom was away for a bit, my sister decided to weed her garden. By the end it looked beautiful - clean, plenty of dark freshly turned soil.
Too much dark soil. She pulled more than some weeds.
This past weekend was filled with yard work - the good kind that leaves you achy and sore in a fulfilling way. As I pruned the lavender and hedges, and weeded through the front beds, there were several times I had to pause and think "What is that?" A master gardener might know, but I think even they have to think twice in the first days of spring. I'm no master gardener; I'm absolutely in the apprentice stage. I sat there staring at the little leaves just breaking through the soil, trying to make out the shape and recall what bulbs I've planted and where over the past couple years. Ah!! That's right! That's what that is! I thought to myself, thank goodness this is my garden, I think someone else would have pulled that. Shoot, in anyone else's garden I would have pulled that. It's difficult to weed another woman's garden. And yet, we do. The thought blazed through my mind, and began to take root.
How often do we look at another and determine what is weed and what should bloom on some sunny day? How often do you think we're actually wrong about it?
I spent the rest of the day cutting, digging and planting, feeling thankful for all those in my life that haven't tried to weed my garden for me - grateful for those who recognize that they didn't plant anything in that dirt - the ones who've been willing to show up and water for me, willing to wait years and watch, willing to keep an over-eager weeder at bay even. Thankful for those who know a thorny ugly thing is just a rose in the winter. She'll be beautiful by spring and blooming by summer.
We're all a bed of surprises, so let's agree to not weed each other's beds, okay? Chances are if you try, you'll pull out some daisies that really just needed a little sunshine and water from you. Or perhaps, just patience and a person for whom to bloom.
Maybe you think you're the exception because you're just good at reading people. Or, you're prophetic. Yeah, I've told myself that too. But I've had a few prophetic women tear me to shreds in a winter and I've still got some roses that just won't seem to bloom any more. If you're gifted in really seeing through things, look for the flowers.
PS
Feed, don't weed. ;)
Years ago, when my mom was away for a bit, my sister decided to weed her garden. By the end it looked beautiful - clean, plenty of dark freshly turned soil.
Too much dark soil. She pulled more than some weeds.
This past weekend was filled with yard work - the good kind that leaves you achy and sore in a fulfilling way. As I pruned the lavender and hedges, and weeded through the front beds, there were several times I had to pause and think "What is that?" A master gardener might know, but I think even they have to think twice in the first days of spring. I'm no master gardener; I'm absolutely in the apprentice stage. I sat there staring at the little leaves just breaking through the soil, trying to make out the shape and recall what bulbs I've planted and where over the past couple years. Ah!! That's right! That's what that is! I thought to myself, thank goodness this is my garden, I think someone else would have pulled that. Shoot, in anyone else's garden I would have pulled that. It's difficult to weed another woman's garden. And yet, we do. The thought blazed through my mind, and began to take root.
How often do we look at another and determine what is weed and what should bloom on some sunny day? How often do you think we're actually wrong about it?
I spent the rest of the day cutting, digging and planting, feeling thankful for all those in my life that haven't tried to weed my garden for me - grateful for those who recognize that they didn't plant anything in that dirt - the ones who've been willing to show up and water for me, willing to wait years and watch, willing to keep an over-eager weeder at bay even. Thankful for those who know a thorny ugly thing is just a rose in the winter. She'll be beautiful by spring and blooming by summer.
We're all a bed of surprises, so let's agree to not weed each other's beds, okay? Chances are if you try, you'll pull out some daisies that really just needed a little sunshine and water from you. Or perhaps, just patience and a person for whom to bloom.
Maybe you think you're the exception because you're just good at reading people. Or, you're prophetic. Yeah, I've told myself that too. But I've had a few prophetic women tear me to shreds in a winter and I've still got some roses that just won't seem to bloom any more. If you're gifted in really seeing through things, look for the flowers.
PS
Feed, don't weed. ;)
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Hermione Mix | Pogo & Jeesh
It would be totally normal to name a daughter Hermione. Right? Totally normal.
5 Reasons I Love Living in Maple Leaf
Having known a number of friends toying with the idea of moving toward the city, I've been considering my favorite things about living where we do. Below are five reasons I love living in Maple Leaf. They aren't mind-blowing, in fact, they're mostly very obvious, and I think these pertain to all our little neighborhoods on our edge of town:
1. Tiny Libraries - I know these are making their way out to the burbs, but tiny libraries was one of many reasons I loved living in Fremont. When they started popping up on my own street and the surrounding areas in Maple Leaf, my heart lept! I always keep books in the back of my car (books for unexpected park days, books I need to return to friends, books I'm ready to donate). Several times now I have hopped out and traded a book in the back for something appealing in the little lending library on the sidewalk.
2. Parks - My mom took us girls to a lot of parks growing up. I have such strong, happy memories when I pass by the one with all the flags halfway between Bothell and Edmonds. That's where most often we'd end up with Elise - I remember us setting our sodas in the sand so they wouldn't fall over while we enjoyed the swings. Sure enough, our teeth met a nice amount of grainy soda when we returned. We always drove to the parks though. And as a kid, I had no complaint about this, as an adult I don't either really. I love driving to a favorite park. But you know what's even better? WALKING to the park! I love that living in one of the outskirt neighborhoods of Seattle essentially means you have a park within walking distance. For us, we have two or three, but one of them is so great it's the only one we even think to go to! Maple Leaf is made by it's incredible Maple Leaf Reservoir Park!
3. Local Businesses - For us, the local businesses starts with coffee and ends with either Ace Hardware or The Maple Bar. Not because there aren't other awesome businesses (like a Vet I can't wait to visit someday soon! When have you ever heard those words before, right?), but because we LOVE these local haunts and something about buying goods from the guy who literally lives on your street is awesome! But in our little Maple Leaf town center strip, we also have accountants, a florist, a mechanic, a cake/bakery shop, two salons, until a month ago a drug store, midwives, a naturopath, a chiropractor and a dozen other shops.
4. Short(er) Commute - I decided yesterday that the only thing that sucks about Seattle, is the traffic. It seriously is ALL the time now. And it's awful; no denying it. Everything else about our green city is awesome. That being said, living on the edge of the city is a pretty nice situation. It shortens your commute into the city for work each day, while also allowing you to avoid the nasty traffic on your off days. I really like not having to sit on 45th or 50th for close to an hour any time I want to hit I-5, or go visit my parents. Where we live now, we are essentially 15 minutes to everything! (Except Bellevue and Kirkland.) And by "shorter commute" to work, I also mean we get to commute in on a bus! Sitting on a bus, instead of behind a wheel means you're spending less money and you're probably enjoying a good book. You're also walking from your bus stop to work, which is healthier for you. Of course, this is also healthier for the environment, and for the nasty Seattle traffic so everybody please get on a bus! And now that you're on a bus, read a book. Look, I am literally solving so many major US problems right now - we're all on buses and we're reading, so there's no traffic, less exhaust, and an educated, empathetic population! I'm getting t-shirts made!
5. Community - we're still figuring this one out. But I visited our Community Council Executive Board meeting this past month, and I'm happy to know there are wonderful people who have been members of this community for 30 years. Like every part of Seattle (and Washington), the neighborhood is undergoing massive changes, amidst that, it is wonderful to have long-term, committed neighbors who can hopefully help us hold on to the very best parts of who Maple Leaf has always been, while wisely adapting to how the city needs to change. Living in tight quarters with neighbors can be frustrating - it's hard to not be all up in one another's business, but it also leads to conversations and hellos and goodbyes and "Great day to work in the yard, isn't it?" across the street. When Heidi lived here, she made friends with other moms at the coffee shop. I love that (as did she). As I said, we're still figuring this one out, but I think these specific neighborhoods have a lot of promise for community and I treasure that.
1. Tiny Libraries - I know these are making their way out to the burbs, but tiny libraries was one of many reasons I loved living in Fremont. When they started popping up on my own street and the surrounding areas in Maple Leaf, my heart lept! I always keep books in the back of my car (books for unexpected park days, books I need to return to friends, books I'm ready to donate). Several times now I have hopped out and traded a book in the back for something appealing in the little lending library on the sidewalk.
2. Parks - My mom took us girls to a lot of parks growing up. I have such strong, happy memories when I pass by the one with all the flags halfway between Bothell and Edmonds. That's where most often we'd end up with Elise - I remember us setting our sodas in the sand so they wouldn't fall over while we enjoyed the swings. Sure enough, our teeth met a nice amount of grainy soda when we returned. We always drove to the parks though. And as a kid, I had no complaint about this, as an adult I don't either really. I love driving to a favorite park. But you know what's even better? WALKING to the park! I love that living in one of the outskirt neighborhoods of Seattle essentially means you have a park within walking distance. For us, we have two or three, but one of them is so great it's the only one we even think to go to! Maple Leaf is made by it's incredible Maple Leaf Reservoir Park!
3. Local Businesses - For us, the local businesses starts with coffee and ends with either Ace Hardware or The Maple Bar. Not because there aren't other awesome businesses (like a Vet I can't wait to visit someday soon! When have you ever heard those words before, right?), but because we LOVE these local haunts and something about buying goods from the guy who literally lives on your street is awesome! But in our little Maple Leaf town center strip, we also have accountants, a florist, a mechanic, a cake/bakery shop, two salons, until a month ago a drug store, midwives, a naturopath, a chiropractor and a dozen other shops.
4. Short(er) Commute - I decided yesterday that the only thing that sucks about Seattle, is the traffic. It seriously is ALL the time now. And it's awful; no denying it. Everything else about our green city is awesome. That being said, living on the edge of the city is a pretty nice situation. It shortens your commute into the city for work each day, while also allowing you to avoid the nasty traffic on your off days. I really like not having to sit on 45th or 50th for close to an hour any time I want to hit I-5, or go visit my parents. Where we live now, we are essentially 15 minutes to everything! (Except Bellevue and Kirkland.) And by "shorter commute" to work, I also mean we get to commute in on a bus! Sitting on a bus, instead of behind a wheel means you're spending less money and you're probably enjoying a good book. You're also walking from your bus stop to work, which is healthier for you. Of course, this is also healthier for the environment, and for the nasty Seattle traffic so everybody please get on a bus! And now that you're on a bus, read a book. Look, I am literally solving so many major US problems right now - we're all on buses and we're reading, so there's no traffic, less exhaust, and an educated, empathetic population! I'm getting t-shirts made!
5. Community - we're still figuring this one out. But I visited our Community Council Executive Board meeting this past month, and I'm happy to know there are wonderful people who have been members of this community for 30 years. Like every part of Seattle (and Washington), the neighborhood is undergoing massive changes, amidst that, it is wonderful to have long-term, committed neighbors who can hopefully help us hold on to the very best parts of who Maple Leaf has always been, while wisely adapting to how the city needs to change. Living in tight quarters with neighbors can be frustrating - it's hard to not be all up in one another's business, but it also leads to conversations and hellos and goodbyes and "Great day to work in the yard, isn't it?" across the street. When Heidi lived here, she made friends with other moms at the coffee shop. I love that (as did she). As I said, we're still figuring this one out, but I think these specific neighborhoods have a lot of promise for community and I treasure that.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Day 3
I'm thankful for those moments when you totally know you got something you shouldn't have... or shouldn't have gotten something you did. (PS, I hate the word "got" - I have no idea why I just used it multiple times in the opening sentence of this blog. But now that I've written a whole second and now third sentence about it, I haven't the time to rewrite.)
You see, I drove today because we are getting a new fridge and we were chatting about it and I was dicing onions (oh dangit, I forgot to put in the onions!) and carrots and celery to put in the crockpot with the chicken. All this means I missed my bus and the next one I could catch wouldn't get me to work until almost 11!
So I drove. I parked on the street and determined I would repay at 12:30pm. Then at 2:30pm, I'd move to the garage that my gym reimburses for up to 3 hours. Smart, right?
Only at 2:30pm, I realized, OH MY GOSH I DROVE TODAY! That's right. I'd only gotten up (there it is again) from my desk briefly and was rushing to hit a 3pm deadline for the day and had completely forgotten to repay at 12:30pm.
I ran down to my car to pick up my parking ticket. And it wasn't there. 2 hours past due - and I had no ticket!!!!
Today, I am thankful for that.
You see, I drove today because we are getting a new fridge and we were chatting about it and I was dicing onions (oh dangit, I forgot to put in the onions!) and carrots and celery to put in the crockpot with the chicken. All this means I missed my bus and the next one I could catch wouldn't get me to work until almost 11!
So I drove. I parked on the street and determined I would repay at 12:30pm. Then at 2:30pm, I'd move to the garage that my gym reimburses for up to 3 hours. Smart, right?
Only at 2:30pm, I realized, OH MY GOSH I DROVE TODAY! That's right. I'd only gotten up (there it is again) from my desk briefly and was rushing to hit a 3pm deadline for the day and had completely forgotten to repay at 12:30pm.
I ran down to my car to pick up my parking ticket. And it wasn't there. 2 hours past due - and I had no ticket!!!!
Today, I am thankful for that.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Day 2
You know how we all love countdowns? I decided that instead of doing a count-down. I am going to just count up. Keep it positive - keep momentum growing - staying focused on what I have and how much I can accomplish in these days. Yesterday was day 35 for me and I decided to start 35 (Work)Days of Thankfulness. Yesterday, I was home sick and I ended the day with movie and dinner on the couch with John. As every list of things I'm grateful for begin - Day 1 went to my Beau.
Day 2. I'm grateful for coffee. Not in a "I'm always tired" way. I am literally just so grateful for one of my favorite daily rituals. Most mornings, John makes me a morning cup. He often asks "What kind?" or "Do you have a preference of method?" And typically, but not always, I let him decide. On weekends, I'll often request the mocha pot with a hearty amount of creamy foam on top. He'll pick mocha pot or aeropress, or maybe his siphon pot. He'll pull out some of our favorite beans and grind them up. We're back to boiling water on our stove, so he'll turn on the faucet and fill up a sauce pan. Yesterday he used the pour over - which is incredible rare. Within time he'll hand me a cup of coffee, and if I'm lucky it will be in one of my favorite metalic stone ones and we'll have time to sit on the couch and half-cuddle and talk.
Today, I'm just drinking the office coffee, which is terrible. But I'm drinking it as the ritual right now - as the start of my morning and the beginning of my day. And I'm thankful. I'm grateful for such a lavish little ritual that begins almost all of my days.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Life gets harder as you get older. That is my takeaway. When I become a mom, I want to remember, life was hard now too. Really, really hard.
I don't know what will happen to me - I don't know what it will be like. I worry I'll go mad. I mean it. I really, sincerely worry about that. I worry it will be too much. Thank you Woolf and Plath and life.
And then sometimes, I wonder if it will really be nice.
I've always wanted to be a mom. When I was little, it was one of the answers I alternated with when asked "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I wanted to be a lawyer, a writer, a soccer player, and a mom. I had 13 babies. I should correct that and say, I have 13 babies. Because I never let my mom throw a single one of them away. I paid for a sitter when I left the house. Seriously, my business minded older sister suggested that perhaps her doll, who was naturally older than all of mine, could keep an eye on mine while we were away from the house. So, I paid her doll.
Yesterday, the InDesign decided it would repetitively error out on page 28 of my proposal. I didn't know it was page 28, and I didn't immediately know what image on page 28 was causing it - but this isn't my first time at this rodeo so I traced it pretty quickly to the problem, screen shot it the page, zoomed and linked the screen shot of the picture instead of the faulty actual picture - and away it ran to the printers (thank God!). This meant I missed my UPS pickup by about 3 minutes. Thankfully, again, not my first rodeo - I had a backup plan and ran it down to the UPS drop box that usually gets grabbed around 5pm.
It had been like that all day - with a critical boss, faulty equipment, a lot of questions coming from a lot of people, a lot of missing and poor information for me to track down. I was coordinating company-wide new headshots - leadership group shots - collaboration shots, while rushing through creation of a proposal --- all due to be done by end of day yesterday. And then I started feeling sick, right around 4pm. My calves, thighs, back and abdomen started cramping like someone was dragging a metal rake from the inside of my toes all the way up. So there was that fun reminder of my gender - and a deadline.
I made it to the UPS box, with minutes to spare. I think. This morning I'm waiting for notification of the UPS delivery, like I do regularly. I walked back up from dropping off the proposal, sat down at my desk, drank water and opened my Facebook. And straight up top was a Mommy article about how tiring it is. The woman had a cute messy bun, an adorable graphic tee about coffee, she was wearing yoga pants and drinking coffee with a cute little kid next to her. From the comments, I gathered it was about how tiring it was, but truth be told, I don't really know what that article said. At that very moment, I just couldn't read it. Too many long days under deadlines. I needed sleep too. By Tuesday afternoon, I realized I wasn't even able to speak full coherent sentences to coworkers. I'd hoped they hadn't noticed. They looked at me strangely.
I closed the article and wondered again if being a mom would push me over the edge. Or if maybe it really wasn't worse than this mad house I've been running around in for 3 years. I know that's an almost illegal statement to make. This isn't a "who has it worse post" - this is me letting you into the question and fear that cycles around in my head regularly. A both longing to be a mom - and a fear that makes me also want to push it away as long as possible.
I don't know if all the mom's realize their Facebook posts actually do that. I suddenly feel like I'm not allowed to think it won't be too hard, because that's wrong and judgmental and who the hell am I anyways? So all I am allowed to think is that it's the toughest job in the world and it's terrible and the children will make you want to tear your hair out like little tiny adorable demons.... and if my current job already takes everything out of me and already makes me want to cry and scream at the same time... what will this unspeakable terror do to me?
I don't know. But I decided yesterday, I shouldn't read that article right then. And I should write to myself for the future - now is hard too. Remember that. And yesterday, while I was exhausted and tired and angry and frustrated and knew I had to do it all over again the next day --- I was in a dress, with full makeup and my hair done and uncomfortable shoes. And I wasn't allowed to yell. Or scream. Or say anything terrible to anyone. I had to be direct, and kind, and keep going. I had to let it go.
I hate not being in control. I don't like being tired. And I have incredible anxiety about feeling trapped. All of these things will make being a mom (and being pregnant for that matter) challenging for me. But, they also make being a manager, as part of a company, working with a history of very difficult bosses and people difficult too. Thank you Woolf and Plath and life.
As a friend has always reminded me, this is all training for something.
I am sure being a mom is very difficult. But right now is difficult too. And life isn't as separated as we like to make it. You're not a career woman. And then a mom. You're you - and I'm pretty sure you bring that same you into parenthood, just like you do into every other challenge and new phase or career.
I think I'm starting to get what that friend had meant. Before, I had thought she was trying to tell me that learning to coordinate my bosses' schedules meant I'd be good at coordinating my family's one day. Now, I think she meant less tangible things - but maybe more meaningful. Like learning not to lose my temper. To be kind under pressure. To be consistent without sleep. To be better at communicating what I want a teammate to do, what I need my coordinator to learn. To treat others with respect - even when I'm in charge of them. To care about their growth. To present a cohesive front. To be trustworthy. A confidant. To guard what I really need, but also to push myself. To put John ahead of the rest. To be the same me in every situation. To learn to trust and find peace when I feel stuck or trapped or out of control of my own life.
I think then and now are difficult. I also think now is part of then. I'm learning the same lessons. I'm just not allowed to wear yoga pants and posting about it on Facebook could get me fired. But we're all learning similar lessons, or our own lessons. So I hope I won't crack. I'm going to try to see those mommy posts as them training just like I'm training so I stop feeling crippled by this looming doom that I once just called my dream.
I hope this wasn't hurtful to any of my friends who are in the yoga pants days right now. I honestly really didn't write this to you - I wrote it to me. To the me on the unknown mommy-side in the future - and to the me today who's on the cusp of it and realizing she's been made terribly afraid and to feel largely unprepared and inadequate. I wrote it to remind myself that today really is/was hard. And to convince myself that it does matter, now and then.
I don't know what will happen to me - I don't know what it will be like. I worry I'll go mad. I mean it. I really, sincerely worry about that. I worry it will be too much. Thank you Woolf and Plath and life.
And then sometimes, I wonder if it will really be nice.
I've always wanted to be a mom. When I was little, it was one of the answers I alternated with when asked "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I wanted to be a lawyer, a writer, a soccer player, and a mom. I had 13 babies. I should correct that and say, I have 13 babies. Because I never let my mom throw a single one of them away. I paid for a sitter when I left the house. Seriously, my business minded older sister suggested that perhaps her doll, who was naturally older than all of mine, could keep an eye on mine while we were away from the house. So, I paid her doll.
Yesterday, the InDesign decided it would repetitively error out on page 28 of my proposal. I didn't know it was page 28, and I didn't immediately know what image on page 28 was causing it - but this isn't my first time at this rodeo so I traced it pretty quickly to the problem, screen shot it the page, zoomed and linked the screen shot of the picture instead of the faulty actual picture - and away it ran to the printers (thank God!). This meant I missed my UPS pickup by about 3 minutes. Thankfully, again, not my first rodeo - I had a backup plan and ran it down to the UPS drop box that usually gets grabbed around 5pm.
It had been like that all day - with a critical boss, faulty equipment, a lot of questions coming from a lot of people, a lot of missing and poor information for me to track down. I was coordinating company-wide new headshots - leadership group shots - collaboration shots, while rushing through creation of a proposal --- all due to be done by end of day yesterday. And then I started feeling sick, right around 4pm. My calves, thighs, back and abdomen started cramping like someone was dragging a metal rake from the inside of my toes all the way up. So there was that fun reminder of my gender - and a deadline.
I made it to the UPS box, with minutes to spare. I think. This morning I'm waiting for notification of the UPS delivery, like I do regularly. I walked back up from dropping off the proposal, sat down at my desk, drank water and opened my Facebook. And straight up top was a Mommy article about how tiring it is. The woman had a cute messy bun, an adorable graphic tee about coffee, she was wearing yoga pants and drinking coffee with a cute little kid next to her. From the comments, I gathered it was about how tiring it was, but truth be told, I don't really know what that article said. At that very moment, I just couldn't read it. Too many long days under deadlines. I needed sleep too. By Tuesday afternoon, I realized I wasn't even able to speak full coherent sentences to coworkers. I'd hoped they hadn't noticed. They looked at me strangely.
I closed the article and wondered again if being a mom would push me over the edge. Or if maybe it really wasn't worse than this mad house I've been running around in for 3 years. I know that's an almost illegal statement to make. This isn't a "who has it worse post" - this is me letting you into the question and fear that cycles around in my head regularly. A both longing to be a mom - and a fear that makes me also want to push it away as long as possible.
I don't know if all the mom's realize their Facebook posts actually do that. I suddenly feel like I'm not allowed to think it won't be too hard, because that's wrong and judgmental and who the hell am I anyways? So all I am allowed to think is that it's the toughest job in the world and it's terrible and the children will make you want to tear your hair out like little tiny adorable demons.... and if my current job already takes everything out of me and already makes me want to cry and scream at the same time... what will this unspeakable terror do to me?
I don't know. But I decided yesterday, I shouldn't read that article right then. And I should write to myself for the future - now is hard too. Remember that. And yesterday, while I was exhausted and tired and angry and frustrated and knew I had to do it all over again the next day --- I was in a dress, with full makeup and my hair done and uncomfortable shoes. And I wasn't allowed to yell. Or scream. Or say anything terrible to anyone. I had to be direct, and kind, and keep going. I had to let it go.
I hate not being in control. I don't like being tired. And I have incredible anxiety about feeling trapped. All of these things will make being a mom (and being pregnant for that matter) challenging for me. But, they also make being a manager, as part of a company, working with a history of very difficult bosses and people difficult too. Thank you Woolf and Plath and life.
As a friend has always reminded me, this is all training for something.
I am sure being a mom is very difficult. But right now is difficult too. And life isn't as separated as we like to make it. You're not a career woman. And then a mom. You're you - and I'm pretty sure you bring that same you into parenthood, just like you do into every other challenge and new phase or career.
I think I'm starting to get what that friend had meant. Before, I had thought she was trying to tell me that learning to coordinate my bosses' schedules meant I'd be good at coordinating my family's one day. Now, I think she meant less tangible things - but maybe more meaningful. Like learning not to lose my temper. To be kind under pressure. To be consistent without sleep. To be better at communicating what I want a teammate to do, what I need my coordinator to learn. To treat others with respect - even when I'm in charge of them. To care about their growth. To present a cohesive front. To be trustworthy. A confidant. To guard what I really need, but also to push myself. To put John ahead of the rest. To be the same me in every situation. To learn to trust and find peace when I feel stuck or trapped or out of control of my own life.
I think then and now are difficult. I also think now is part of then. I'm learning the same lessons. I'm just not allowed to wear yoga pants and posting about it on Facebook could get me fired. But we're all learning similar lessons, or our own lessons. So I hope I won't crack. I'm going to try to see those mommy posts as them training just like I'm training so I stop feeling crippled by this looming doom that I once just called my dream.
I hope this wasn't hurtful to any of my friends who are in the yoga pants days right now. I honestly really didn't write this to you - I wrote it to me. To the me on the unknown mommy-side in the future - and to the me today who's on the cusp of it and realizing she's been made terribly afraid and to feel largely unprepared and inadequate. I wrote it to remind myself that today really is/was hard. And to convince myself that it does matter, now and then.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Weekends are for thinking, and talking together, and thinking more, and apparently for g-chatting articles to one another from our home work stations across our tiny home. A good deal of this today circled around the ways John and I are already becoming hurried along in the so-called American Dream. Growing careers, a home, dreaming of a dog, and then babies. But that means late nights of work, and Sundays working. It means a world pushing in on us - managers and deadlines telling us they're our number one priority if we want to keep up - keep on.
We're also not the American Dream. We're living small, and seeking to live smaller across the board. We decided 5 weeks together on an adventure was a priority, and we decided our careers, and managers, and deadlines could learn to accept that. We decided we wanted to provide a place for others, some small semblance of community where we share what's ours with others. And we decided we'd learn what it means to be business owners. Then we decided that wasn't enough - we needed to learn how to be business owners that were a part of solutions, not contributing to the greed.
So we're somewhere between the dream, and this non-american dream. But lately I hear as much of one as the other. I think the alternative story I keep hearing over and over is almost as big of an idol now - maybe it's the new American dream. The one where you gloriously quit your jobs and travel the world on a yacht, or in a van, or with just a backpack, and somehow you're still stylishly dressed and your legs are tan and somehow hairless, your wayfarers are on, hair dyed, and your makeup is natural and perfect. People follow you from their desks at work. Now I'm convinced, it's the new American Dream. You escaped - your beauty intact.
But I don't really want to buy into just another stereotypical perfect world. I mean, I do, I really do, it's a dream. That's the point. But it's probably still not quite right.
What I know I want is to not spend my early marriage away being dragged behind one deadline after another. I don't want to wear myself out for a company, rather than give myself to meaningful goals, and being present with the important people in my life. Five weeks together gave us a taste of something so wonderful - and it wasn't standing under the Eiffel Tower or on the Cliffs of Moher that we continue to hunger for - it was holding hands on a street corner we didn't recognize at 2pm on a Tuesday. It was falling asleep together every single night.
I buy into that new American dream, and I buy into the old one - not for the house, or the dog, or the photo atop Machu Picchu - but for a home you share with a real partner, and for working out a fight in a dark square in Barcelona, waking up knowing it's just the two of you forever and this is something to go through, not around today. Not to make it all about "couples" - if you're single, it's still as much about who you're living that dream with, yourself included. But chances are, marital status aside, you have a handful of deeply meaningful relationships. Dreams are about these.
We've got to find a way to get more of that part of the dream. Less of the rest that keeps us exhausted in pursuit. I'm just not sure how to entangle them.
Remember, it's the long game - but the rules of the game aren't clear for any of us.
We're also not the American Dream. We're living small, and seeking to live smaller across the board. We decided 5 weeks together on an adventure was a priority, and we decided our careers, and managers, and deadlines could learn to accept that. We decided we wanted to provide a place for others, some small semblance of community where we share what's ours with others. And we decided we'd learn what it means to be business owners. Then we decided that wasn't enough - we needed to learn how to be business owners that were a part of solutions, not contributing to the greed.
So we're somewhere between the dream, and this non-american dream. But lately I hear as much of one as the other. I think the alternative story I keep hearing over and over is almost as big of an idol now - maybe it's the new American dream. The one where you gloriously quit your jobs and travel the world on a yacht, or in a van, or with just a backpack, and somehow you're still stylishly dressed and your legs are tan and somehow hairless, your wayfarers are on, hair dyed, and your makeup is natural and perfect. People follow you from their desks at work. Now I'm convinced, it's the new American Dream. You escaped - your beauty intact.
But I don't really want to buy into just another stereotypical perfect world. I mean, I do, I really do, it's a dream. That's the point. But it's probably still not quite right.
What I know I want is to not spend my early marriage away being dragged behind one deadline after another. I don't want to wear myself out for a company, rather than give myself to meaningful goals, and being present with the important people in my life. Five weeks together gave us a taste of something so wonderful - and it wasn't standing under the Eiffel Tower or on the Cliffs of Moher that we continue to hunger for - it was holding hands on a street corner we didn't recognize at 2pm on a Tuesday. It was falling asleep together every single night.
I buy into that new American dream, and I buy into the old one - not for the house, or the dog, or the photo atop Machu Picchu - but for a home you share with a real partner, and for working out a fight in a dark square in Barcelona, waking up knowing it's just the two of you forever and this is something to go through, not around today. Not to make it all about "couples" - if you're single, it's still as much about who you're living that dream with, yourself included. But chances are, marital status aside, you have a handful of deeply meaningful relationships. Dreams are about these.
We've got to find a way to get more of that part of the dream. Less of the rest that keeps us exhausted in pursuit. I'm just not sure how to entangle them.
Remember, it's the long game - but the rules of the game aren't clear for any of us.
Friday, January 15, 2016
"Life is such a gift. You work most of your day.
Please, do something that brings you joy."
(You should read
the article here.)
Thursday, January 14, 2016
I'm hooked you guys. I'm digging this boy so bad I'm here rumagging through my pockets for any words I've got hanging around - something to keep him here, reading me.
No warning needed - this isn't a #brag post.
This is a desperate attempt of a girl to put down pretty, compelling words that can keep a good man on the line...
Because it's dark outside.
And soon I'll tidy up my desk.
I'll close the windows.
And I'll head home to the best man.
And I'll know he's been here.
No warning needed - this isn't a #brag post.
This is a desperate attempt of a girl to put down pretty, compelling words that can keep a good man on the line...
Because it's dark outside.
And soon I'll tidy up my desk.
I'll close the windows.
And I'll head home to the best man.
And I'll know he's been here.
Thursday, January 07, 2016
I have a scar on my right knee that looks remarkably like a "K." I've loved it from the beginning. My sister has teased me over the years for how beat up my knees are - the K has company for sure. And for the first 18 years of my life (at least) my knees were a certain shade of camo at all times of the year. For some reason, my little K feels like a promise. Something certain. Something unchangeable. A secret. At times, an inside joke. A tiny little emblem that can't be erased. My own personal logo. I imagine when I'm 80, I'll catch a glimpse of it and smile like the 15 year old who first got it. I'll remember, I'm still that same girl. I'll remember to be grateful for creases, scars and stretch marks - I'll remember they're punctuation marks of stories - I'll remember they're emblems, copyrights. They prove I'm the real deal.
Monday, December 28, 2015
The ever so talented Mallory MacDonald took a fun shoot of my family over Thanksgiving holiday. We recently received the files and I'm in love with nearly every one of them. I'm also pretty in love with my ridiculous family that make it impossible to get a "frame-worthy" shot.
In love my friends.
I now run my company's recruiting efforts and I find myself
regularly looking through the modern day wanted adds - known as LinkedIn and
the Careers pages of different firms. As I'm drafting role descriptions,
I cringe at the overused catch phrases I essentially must use. I see a
lot of "highly motivated, creative and collaborative people" sought
after, all to join a "fast-paced, friendly environment."
I think if I were to write my own job posting, without concern for CEOs, Principals or... legal concerns, I'd throw in a few more signifiers, words like thoughtful, kind, patient, dedicated, honest and committed to the conversation, interested, big-picture thinker, little-details checker, tinkerer.
A tinkerer is so much more valuable than a problem-solver. Problem solvers throw solutions at problems without first understanding why there's a problem, what caused the problem, and perhaps offering a couple solutions to the problem. I want problem-thinkers before problem-solvers. Problem solvers use the equivalent of zip locks and duct tape and you get to fix a bigger problem right after.
I'd tell the potential hire the truth, because they already know
"fast-paced" is a paid synonym for "stressful" and
"always behind a deadline." And friendly? Friendly doesn't mean
a thing in a job listing. Just start hiring kind, patient, thoughtful people
and you'll end up with a friendly environment. If what you mean to tell
them is you drink beer together on Thursdays or go to movies together on
Monday nights, tell them. But if you're just filling up words on a page that
someone is going to skip over to read the responsibilities and minimal
qualifications - stop.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
If you're coming to my house for dinner, it's not going to be perfect. This is something I have come to grips with - and I wish I could put it as a disclaimer on the bottom of every dinner invite I hand out. You know, how some people tack on a little note to please forgive the spelling of all messages sent from this iPhone? Well, "Please understand this invitation is not to a perfect 'event' - it's to sit in my home. And you might have to sit on the bed, or floor, because we only have 4 bar stools and 2 folder chairs. Hope to see you there."
When our wedding was over, I crumbled under the idea of inviting anyone over. I hadn't expected everyone else's expectations for my wedding ceremony - the day I'd make vows with my husband - the day I'd be his bride. I had no idea it required me be a perfect party planner, event coordinator, etc, etc. I was prepared for things to go wrong. I was prepared to not do it perfect. But I wasn't prepared for everyone else to be disappointed in me when it didn't. So dinner invites weren't extended. Because if I couldn't host a wedding, how could I host a dinner that didn't somehow fail my guests' expectations?
I still feel this pressure - we have meltdowns before dinners - neither John or I expected that. I've always loved creating a place for people to be together. I want to introduce new friends. I want to show them commonality. I want to offer comfort and a safe place. And I love cooking.
But I live in 450 square feet. We have minimal cabinets and storage. And our first year of marriage has seen us toss away items week after week - what we once would have fought to keep, we pile into bags and boxes in the kitchen and drive to our local goodwill.
I don't miss those things - until we decide to host. I have one pretty big plate. It's a platter, I think. One. It fits on top of our fridge, and it is just so pretty, so I keep it. And one tiny little wooden bowl that looks cool out on a party table. We have some really awesome little forks and knives for serving up little scoops of melty cheese or olives too. And a gorgeous marble cheese cutting board. You'll see all of these things out at any given party we host.
Someday it will be nice to have the appropriate party-hosting dishware, but for now, I don't have the room. And I kind of like that. I'm okay being the newly-wed gal who doesn't have the matching set just yet... of whatever the thing is. I'm okay with having friends sit on the floor, or lay on my bed.
But I'm not okay with feeling other's disappointment - with having people arrive and silently say, 'oh.'
As my first little tiny, teeny 'party' since our wedding is coming closer - I keep fighting this huge anxiety. I left the invite as a draft for nearly a week before hitting 'send.' I need to figure out how to auto-add that note. "Proper serving ware not included" might do. Or, "Don't expect too much please." Really, I just want to say, "Please don't be disappointed in me. I just wanted to have you over for a glass of wine."
One of my best friends built me up last week, reminding me the handful of qualities I have to give - hopefully others can see the value. So, you're invited to my home - please come be my friend - and enjoy the creative, strange use of what I had around to turn into ornaments. I'll be sincere. I'll be loyal. I'll see things a bit differently - and I'll probably serve dinner a little late. I believe in value. And I'll always try to show you how much I value you, whenever you're in my home.
I can't promise the rest.
When it really comes to the heart of the issue, I suppose really I could. I just don't want to. I spend every day managing, coordinating, meeting deadlines, triple checking, impressing, proving my value - and I don't want to do that with the people I love. Let's just drink wine and eat good food and not stress about time lines, table charts and proper cutlery. I'm not here to impress you. I've already changed out of my business dress...Here, have a glass of wine.
I just want to feel a little closer friends by the time you leave.
When our wedding was over, I crumbled under the idea of inviting anyone over. I hadn't expected everyone else's expectations for my wedding ceremony - the day I'd make vows with my husband - the day I'd be his bride. I had no idea it required me be a perfect party planner, event coordinator, etc, etc. I was prepared for things to go wrong. I was prepared to not do it perfect. But I wasn't prepared for everyone else to be disappointed in me when it didn't. So dinner invites weren't extended. Because if I couldn't host a wedding, how could I host a dinner that didn't somehow fail my guests' expectations?
I still feel this pressure - we have meltdowns before dinners - neither John or I expected that. I've always loved creating a place for people to be together. I want to introduce new friends. I want to show them commonality. I want to offer comfort and a safe place. And I love cooking.
But I live in 450 square feet. We have minimal cabinets and storage. And our first year of marriage has seen us toss away items week after week - what we once would have fought to keep, we pile into bags and boxes in the kitchen and drive to our local goodwill.
I don't miss those things - until we decide to host. I have one pretty big plate. It's a platter, I think. One. It fits on top of our fridge, and it is just so pretty, so I keep it. And one tiny little wooden bowl that looks cool out on a party table. We have some really awesome little forks and knives for serving up little scoops of melty cheese or olives too. And a gorgeous marble cheese cutting board. You'll see all of these things out at any given party we host.
Someday it will be nice to have the appropriate party-hosting dishware, but for now, I don't have the room. And I kind of like that. I'm okay being the newly-wed gal who doesn't have the matching set just yet... of whatever the thing is. I'm okay with having friends sit on the floor, or lay on my bed.
But I'm not okay with feeling other's disappointment - with having people arrive and silently say, 'oh.'
As my first little tiny, teeny 'party' since our wedding is coming closer - I keep fighting this huge anxiety. I left the invite as a draft for nearly a week before hitting 'send.' I need to figure out how to auto-add that note. "Proper serving ware not included" might do. Or, "Don't expect too much please." Really, I just want to say, "Please don't be disappointed in me. I just wanted to have you over for a glass of wine."
One of my best friends built me up last week, reminding me the handful of qualities I have to give - hopefully others can see the value. So, you're invited to my home - please come be my friend - and enjoy the creative, strange use of what I had around to turn into ornaments. I'll be sincere. I'll be loyal. I'll see things a bit differently - and I'll probably serve dinner a little late. I believe in value. And I'll always try to show you how much I value you, whenever you're in my home.
I can't promise the rest.
When it really comes to the heart of the issue, I suppose really I could. I just don't want to. I spend every day managing, coordinating, meeting deadlines, triple checking, impressing, proving my value - and I don't want to do that with the people I love. Let's just drink wine and eat good food and not stress about time lines, table charts and proper cutlery. I'm not here to impress you. I've already changed out of my business dress...Here, have a glass of wine.
I just want to feel a little closer friends by the time you leave.
Wednesday, December 02, 2015
While it hurts to not be there with them celebrating right now, I couldn't be prouder of my recent firm for winning the 2016 AIA National Firm of the Year Award. I've been convinced all along this was the year!
Friday, November 13, 2015
Re: Credit
I've taken to putting most things on credit. Some of you shriek, others not so much. But the points! So long as you don't get lazy and wild and you fight off the interest by paying it off immediately, it's a wonderland. Or so it seems. Most likely, we're paying far more even still than we're gaining, but that's for another day. Today's thoughts center around the visuals for those credit card balances. Have you ever noticed that your current spending on your credit card is listed as a positive number? Positive line item: You've spent $505.00 so far on your card - greeeeeat job!
But what happens when you return the $600 machine you bought last month, and had immediately paid off on your card? Oh, I'll tell you - they give you a NEGATIVE number. Your balance is now -$95.00. They, the powerful unknown credit card they are not pleased with you. And to ensure you don't try this whole actually having money IN your credit card thing again, they'll ensure every time you look at your account, you feel terrible. -$95.00. Negative. Just like you've overdrawn your account! Doesn't it seem backwards people? You have actual money in your credit card that you've paid over and above, and you get a negative. You spend money you don't have, and you get a positive.
Every time I open my account, it annoys me. Bad. And it makes me realize just how smart the whole set-up is. Because seeing a negative sign in front of my account makes me feel so terrible, that if they actually did that with my credit card every time I spent money, I'd no doubt hardly ever use it! So they give you happy feelings - they flip things completely backwards, so you never have to think of using "credit" as spending money you don't have!
Huh.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Here's what I'm thinking today: If this is the end of a season, I better choose to love it now, before it's too late.
I'm always looking back on 'what was' with fond eyes. Years with LBL drove me mad, but also thrilled me. So much was demanded of us from the first moments of each morning and to survive, Kristin and I locked arms and ran! It was far from "corporate success" and yet it had all the sexiness of it in many ways. We accomplished so much each day and we kept that firm running week after week. We praised ourselves for accomplishing what so many had failed to before us - and what the sane would have walked away from immediately.
And now, a third industry shift and three firms later, I'm a manager, approaching 30, and once again walking around in mandated pencil skirts and leather shoes. And I'm still day dreaming about the rigor and stress of college, my first job, even high school. I alternate this with a constant desire for the next thing. And a sometimes borderline obsessive mental agony of not being able to wrap my mind about what that next thing is or how to bring it about. Is it growing into a director in the design industry? Is it creating the consultant company I dream of? Is it raising babies and writing out my sleepless fancies while they nap? Whatever it is, it feels like it must be close... after all I'm just a year from 30. Where will John and I be at 30? Where do I want to be?
I know it is just a year, just another age.
Coming home from our grand trip, I didn't have all the clear answers and plans I had hoped to return with, but we did come back with a commitment to give my all, right where I am, for the next 6 months. And then to take an honest evaluation of life. Six months suddenly seems very short - especially if I'm giving myself the opportunity to honestly consider a huge life change at that time.
So what if that is the end? What if in 6 months, I walk away from the career I have been building for nearly 10 years now? What then? I don't want to look back on it and suddenly wish I was still there - had chosen to love it while I could - had thrown myself into it with deeper commitment and energy.
I came home having reset my priorities - God and John at the top - we're building a marriage and family from the ground up here, and it needs time and commitments. But with that clearly stowed in my heart, it makes me feel more committed and free to give myself to here - now - 6 months. And that means work, this career, the one I have today.
So today is about smiles, spreadsheets, meetings, editing profiles, pencil skirts. It's about learning to bring out the best in others, encourage their abilities, draw hard lines, keep confidences, be kind in the most stressful of moments, and give my all. I'll drink too much coffee, work a few too many hours, hit the gym and keep a pair of tennis shoes at my desk.
So that whatever is the next now, I can live in the present.
I'm always looking back on 'what was' with fond eyes. Years with LBL drove me mad, but also thrilled me. So much was demanded of us from the first moments of each morning and to survive, Kristin and I locked arms and ran! It was far from "corporate success" and yet it had all the sexiness of it in many ways. We accomplished so much each day and we kept that firm running week after week. We praised ourselves for accomplishing what so many had failed to before us - and what the sane would have walked away from immediately.
And now, a third industry shift and three firms later, I'm a manager, approaching 30, and once again walking around in mandated pencil skirts and leather shoes. And I'm still day dreaming about the rigor and stress of college, my first job, even high school. I alternate this with a constant desire for the next thing. And a sometimes borderline obsessive mental agony of not being able to wrap my mind about what that next thing is or how to bring it about. Is it growing into a director in the design industry? Is it creating the consultant company I dream of? Is it raising babies and writing out my sleepless fancies while they nap? Whatever it is, it feels like it must be close... after all I'm just a year from 30. Where will John and I be at 30? Where do I want to be?
I know it is just a year, just another age.
Coming home from our grand trip, I didn't have all the clear answers and plans I had hoped to return with, but we did come back with a commitment to give my all, right where I am, for the next 6 months. And then to take an honest evaluation of life. Six months suddenly seems very short - especially if I'm giving myself the opportunity to honestly consider a huge life change at that time.
So what if that is the end? What if in 6 months, I walk away from the career I have been building for nearly 10 years now? What then? I don't want to look back on it and suddenly wish I was still there - had chosen to love it while I could - had thrown myself into it with deeper commitment and energy.
I came home having reset my priorities - God and John at the top - we're building a marriage and family from the ground up here, and it needs time and commitments. But with that clearly stowed in my heart, it makes me feel more committed and free to give myself to here - now - 6 months. And that means work, this career, the one I have today.
So today is about smiles, spreadsheets, meetings, editing profiles, pencil skirts. It's about learning to bring out the best in others, encourage their abilities, draw hard lines, keep confidences, be kind in the most stressful of moments, and give my all. I'll drink too much coffee, work a few too many hours, hit the gym and keep a pair of tennis shoes at my desk.
So that whatever is the next now, I can live in the present.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Interviewing is a lot like dating. A lot like dating. You must be charming, sincere, honest - but again, charming. Be yourself so you know you and they can both be happy together. But be your best self, so they want to take a chance on you. All the while you're looking for signs of closets, secrets, troubles. Why did your last relationship end? How did it end? How many me's have there been? Talk to me about it - I want to hear you talk about it as much as I want to hear what happened. Direct, but kind, we don't have much time. It's dating.
And starting a new job, well, that's building a new friendship. Dozens and dozens of unique and complex relationships all at once. It can be a hay-day for an analytical-creative thinker. This morning I was rehearsing with myself while brushing my teeth - who do I want to be known as? A Class-Act - Intelligent - Kind. There's too many new faces, too many new roles, but I can focus on these three things. Class - Intelligent - Kind, be that, and that is enough.
Monday, August 17, 2015
In exactly 3 weeks - 21 days - John and I take off for Europe. We'll have 5 weeks - or 34 days - of wandering the streets of Paris, Bilbao, Barcelona, Dublin, London, Monte Carlo, Nice and so much else and anywhere else we feel so inclined.
Disconnected - far away - together.
I think waiting to take our honeymoon may have been the smartest thing we've ever done. We're ready to adventure, relax, focus, and just get lost together. Goodbye house, jobs, cars, pets and all other good and distracting things. Goodbye stress, pressure and a world of expectations.
Hello just you and me and Paris.
Disconnected - far away - together.
I think waiting to take our honeymoon may have been the smartest thing we've ever done. We're ready to adventure, relax, focus, and just get lost together. Goodbye house, jobs, cars, pets and all other good and distracting things. Goodbye stress, pressure and a world of expectations.
Hello just you and me and Paris.
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