Choices and Gratitude. And a clear head?

It's been months since I blogged.  Busy months.  I'll leave it at that:)

I've always approached this blog with what's top of mind for me.  The past couple of days:

1.  Choices
2.  Gratitude

I'll be vague, as the details don't matter.  Just like the nature v. nuture debate, I think most people would philosophically suggest that one's life path is either a series of choices or the result of fate...or somewhere along the gray line in between.

Me?  I've certainly uttered more than once, "there are not coincidences."  That said, I'm a choices kind of gal.  Maybe that's the part of me that's still grasping at the last straws of "control" in my seemingly out-of-control daily life.  I don't know.  What I do know is this:  I made a series of conscious choices that led me to where I am today - both literally and figuratively.  Along the way - there were some (pretty big) surprises - but for the most part, even those are tied to choices I made.  Hindsight is 20/20, so would I have made some different choices in retrospect?  Perhaps. 

Here's the even better thing about the ability to choose your own path:  We continue to make choices each and every day.  I ultimately am the most significant influence on my own destiny, and - to a large extent now - on the future for my daughters.  So, when I'm frustrated or upset about my day/week/month/life - it's freeing to know that change is right around the corner.  It's my choice.

Gratitude?  I'm grateful to be able to choose.  But - more importantly and perhaps not seemingly related to my thoughts about choices:  I'm grateful for this lot I have in life.  For momentary lapses, I forget.  How could I let that happen?  These girls...this family B and I created.  I'm overwhelmed thinking about about the gifts in my life.  This is what I will choose to protect and nuture and grow. 

And, a clear head?  I'm muddling through, trying to clear the cobwebs.  It takes time.  It seems to be easier for some than others; I seem to be pretty "average" on most any given spectrum, so I suppose it'll take me an average amount of time, and I'll be clear. For a while.

This weekend.

Catchy title for the post, huh (insert sarcastic tone)?

I cried today.

Let me explain:

This weekend was fun.  My sister-in-law, Kelly, came to visit Maria (and her namesake) along with her family.  I really like Kelly and enjoyed even the little time we had to catch up and talk.

But - the visit also meant that we spent the majority of the weekend at my MIL's house for meals, just visiting, etc.  That's not a bad thing...not at all what I"m suggesting.  The tricky part was that AG and MK both were "out of sorts" - lacking in sleep (AG from playing with her cousins for 72 hrs straight; MK from just being away from her usual environment, etc.) and cranky.  But, that's par, right?

A few days ago, I would've told you that MK's little bout of colic was nearing its end...clearly, I made the declaration too soon.  MK had considerable episodes Friday night (started in the car on the way home at 8 and lasted until about 11); Saturday night (started at MIL's house at 6 or so and lasted until about 11); and most of the day today (first daytime episodes).  She finally knocked out around 4:30 pm.

So, I cried today.  Why?

 - It's exhausting.  I'm the only person who can calm her at all, so she's with me 24/7.  Literally.
 - It's so hard to hear your child cry like that.  I've read a lot about colic, and most physicians/experts claim the babies aren't actually in pain, but it sure sounds like it. It breaks my heart.
 - While most people are supportive in general of new mothers, a few persons have made comments about "how could I let her cry like that..." etc. - as if I haven't tried everything I know to comfort her.  So, while I'm a self-confident enough person to ignore most of these types of comments, it's still hard to hear!

I'm in hopes that this will be a better week - must like last week was - and that the tales of colic peaking at 6 weeks are true (would mean we're on the downslide after this week)!

At the end of the day, I just love this little girl so much.  When she isn't crying, she just beams and coos, and her face lights up. That's what I try to focus on!

And so it goes every night...

I shouldn't even be writing this.  I should be in bed sleeping.  Why?  Because MK has been asleep for the past hour.  It's now 10:13 pm; she's been asleep since about 9 pm.  If she follows the pattern she seems to have established, she'll sleep until sometime between 11:30 and 12, and then she'll get up, eat, hang out and go back down.  On a good night, she's back down by 1 or 1:30; last night it was 3.

So - all the intelligent folks would take this opportunity to sleep.  Me - not so intelligent.  Why?  Because - this is almost always the first time ALL DAY that I have had a chance to do anything for ME.  By the way, that means things like cleaning the kitchen, writing thank you notes, addressing birth announcements and picking up the house so I don't want to crawl out of my skin (I'm slightly OCD about having a neat house).

What's my husband doing? Weeelllll....he's been in bed since 8:30 or so.  He says he's tired and needs to sleep.  Um...me too!

I've got nobody to blame but myself, I suppose.  I wish I was okay with letting all of the "chores" go by the wayside (along with the 30 minutes I'll spend between blogging, Facebook, email) and just kicking back, because I truly need to.

So, I'm signing off.  I'm going to do it.  I'm going to sleep.

In the now.

Right here, right now, it's all good.

As I try to capture this journey of being the parent of a newborn (and a preschooler), I know that I need to capture each moment for what it is.  And this one - right now - is good.

I had a good night's sleep last night (that's how I describe six hours, four of which were uninterrupted).  I took an hour-long nap today.  I got out and ran some much-needed errands today while AG was in preschool; MK slept like an angel while I did so.  Husband had to work late (very late), and I managed to feed, bathe and put to bed the two girls.

So, while MK is snoozing for a few minutes (did I mention she's in the bouncy seat in the bathroom with the fan turned on?  whatever works.), I've enjoyed a glass of wine while listening to some good music and finalizing my address list for MK's birth announcements.  Husband is now home and one the phone with a West Coast friend, so I'm literally chillin'.  For the moment.  And, well, that's about all any of us can ask for, isn't it?

A few years ago, I read The Power of Now, and while I'm pretty sure this wasn't quite what the author was referring to, I am taking in how grateful and happy I am.  Right.  Now.  Because, what I also know is that the moment can (and will) change.  Just.  Like.  That.

My Cuddlebug

After several friends emailed me with encouraging words (after reading my previous two blog entries), I realized it was time for something positive!  I certainly didn't intend for my other entries to come across as negative, but rather as my reality!

The short update:  MK is going a bit better at night, as long as she's sleeping right beside Mama...yep, that's right, right beside me.  She still wants to nurse more often at night than during the day, but at least I'm not up and about.  I never thought I'd be a supporter of the "family bed," and I'm certainly still not an advocate.  But, desperate times call for desperate measures, and this kid likes to cuddle.  We had a pediatric appointment today, and after describing our days (she's an angel) versus nights (demons come out), my beloved pediatrician (really, I love her) described MK as likely being "colicky."  So, there you have it.  Colic.  On the spectrum, she's probably mild; let's hope it stays that way.

The upside of this?  This daughter of mine loves to cuddle.  Her sister, AG, has never been much of a cuddly kid.  From day one home from the hospital, she slept great in her crib (never even had a basinette, moses basket, etc.), and even today doesn't enjoy much cuddle time.  She's good for a few hugs and kisses, but after that, she wants to move on (she's always on the move, period).  MK, on the other hand, just wants to be held - day and night.  During the day, I have more luck putting her down (swing, etc.), but she still prefers to be held.  She also has more "cushion" than AG had; this baby has surpassed her birth weight in fewer than the recommended two weeks.  She's a chunk (as much as a <8 lb baby can be).

So, while my bent is to be a "practical" parent - emphasizing things like sleep training, schedules and discipline (I'm more fun than I make it sound!), MK has reminded me to let go and just enjoy cuddling.  Because, one day all too very soon, I know both of my babies will be grown, and I'll wish they wanted to lie in bed with me at night and snuggle up.  I'm lucky that I get to enjoy this now.

Things Fall Apart

Whew!

I knew the wheels would fall off the bus at some point.

MK and I had a lovely day - just the two of us.  My mother, who was staying with us to help since MK's birth a week ago, left yesterday afternoon.  And, to be honest, while I knew I'd miss all her help (she really was incredibly helpful), I also looked forward to some alone time with my baby.  After AG went to school and B went to work, the house was quiet.  At this stage in the game, MK is a perfect angel during the day - eating and sleeping almost on what seems like a schedule (hers, not mine).  But, starting around dinner time, the story is much different.

So sets the stage for our evening.  All was quite and pleasant on the home front when AG and B arrive home around 4 pm.  I should mention that - coincidentally - B has had one of his busiest work weeks in memory.  So, in addition to having a new baby and his MIL staying at his home (which, to be honest, I think he didn't mind at all), he's had a stressful work week.  So, they come in, and he immediately opens his laptop to get back to work (he left work early to pick up AG).

AG has had such a great reaction so MK's birth; she's incredibly loving toward her sister.  But, just in the past two days, she's begun to exhibit some (typical) behavior of a child who has a new sibling.  So, it was no surprise that she immediate decided to "get naked" and run around the house.  Okay, whatever.  I managed to calm her down with an episode of "Diego."  Meanwhile, B still working with stressed look on his face.  Because we don't have a home office, he's working at the dining room table; basically, we're all in the same space (hence need for new home).

Then, MK decides to start her "witching hour" ritual of wailing for about 30-45 minutes.  This is a child who is quite and content all day long.  And, all of a sudden, she's demanding to nurse every hour.  Uh, okay.  I can do that.

Then, B says he's hungry and what are we having for dinner?  This isn't quite as insensitive as it sounds (although, because I'm a "get up and go" type of person, I don't think he realizes that I still have significant pain and am supposed to take it easy) since we have some food I've pre-ordered and just needs to be heated.  But, I still have to make some side items.  But, no worries...EXCEPT my baby is demanding to be nursed (so I'm nursing her in the crook of my left arm and fixing dinner with my right hand) and AG is pulling at my leg wanting to be with me every step of the way.

B makes feeble attempt to help.  Baby isn't having it; neither is AG.  All want mommy.  B is incredibly frustrated.  He steps outside, sighing.  He come comes back in and announces we need to get hired help (note: we are hiring a nanny, but only for my work hours and after I return from maternity leave); we just can't do this.  My jaw drops open - is he kidding me?  I kindly remind him MK is only a week old and that we'll get the hang of this.  Have I mentioned that I've been doing all the getting up in the middle of the night?

Oh, so we sit down for dinner - MK in my arms, because that's the only way she'll be quiet.  After dinner, MK demands to be nursed again, so I sit down.  B clears the table but upon realizing the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, announces he "can't do it" and will clean the kitchen tomorrow.  Uh - again - are you kidding me?  Oh - and then AG - who insisted of wearing "big girl panties" when I said she couldn't eat dinner without any clothes on - peed on the sofa.  Not the leather one.

B takes Anna up to take a bath (score).  I attempt - with no success - to soothe MK asleep, and she's wailing as AG comes down to get me to read stories to her (what she calls "special mommy time").

It's at this point when B simply can't take anymore.  He exits the scene.  Oh - did I mention (I think not) that I suggested earlier today the he get out of the house this evening since he's had such a stressful week at work?  I could tell he was about to lose it.  So, he chooses to exit the scene right when I probably need him most.

Am I angry?  No.  Honestly, there must be more than one reason the doctors prescribe the painkillers after a C-section.  In addition to helping with pain, they do take the edge off.  So, whatever.

We'll get it down.  I think.

And Baby MK Makes Four

Baby MK is one week old today.  And, the birth of a new baby isn't included in the common list of lifetime "milestones" for no reason.  Having done this twice now, I can attest that welcoming a child (biological or adopted, I would imagine) into your family generates such an incredible bevy of emotions.  In other words, the whole thing is an emotional roller coaster ride.

The past week has been no exception.  At several points (ok - many), I've thought to myself, "I should blog about this so I don't forget it."  And, then my next thought is, "Uh - who am I kidding?  If I have one free moment, I'm sleeping."  So, I now force myself to sit down (MK is napping; her big sister AG is at preschool; my husband is at work) and record some of this journey so I can look back one day and recall the reality.  Because, truly, while you can remember generalities, very few of the visceral details stick around very long (otherwise, the human race would be extinct).  Now, I can't possibly recall and/or record everything that transpired over the past week, but here are a few nuggets:

Setting the stage:  

The past few months have been crazy, crazy, crazy at our house.  Not "bad" crazy, but just nuts.  Or, as some would day, "just life."  I'm a working mother.  Honestly, I waffle about whether this is the right thing for my family and for me - I've even tried "part-time" on for size since my first daughter, AG, was born in 2008.  But, in the end, I determined that the benefits of working full-time outweighed any negative on our lives.  But - if I'm going to spend some of my time away from my children - it needs to be worthwhile, both financially and from a career growth perspective.  It's not okay with me to leave them for "a job."  And, I also require some level of flexibility.  Without those things, I'm out.  After four years in the same job (a job I do really like at a University for which I'm passionate), I was feeling the need for growth (okay - I've been feeling that need for the past year).  So, I began to try to create new opportunities for myself.  In short, the stars aligned, and I began a new role about 3-4 months ago.

Why do I mention this?  Well...be careful what you ask for, kids, because this new role is incredibly demanding, and I was continuing to carry on with my old job (new hires take months in a University setting).  And, I never had a typical 40 hr/wk job anyway (remember my "career" comment?)...so my typical schedule the past few months has been something like this:  7:00-8:30 get household ready and take AG to school; 8:30-3:00 office (I do leave everyday at 3 to pick up AG from school) which is generally comprised of back-to-back meetings; 3:30-8:00 spend time with AG, fix dinner, any household errands, bathe and put AG to bed; 8:00-11:00 work some more.  Sprinkle in a bit of work-related travel and some nights/weekends events, and there you have it.

We also have our house on the market, as we hope to find a place with more space.  And, to top it all off, we bought a new car (which wouldn't be worth mentioning except it was more of a process that it should've been).  So, just when I would think I'd have a Saturday morning to relax, our realtor would call and say we had a showing...which is great, right?

The net net:  I've been pretty tired.  And, toward the end of my pregnancy, I don't think I was sleeping more than an average of 5 hrs per night, between been mentally charged and physically uncomfortable.  Basically, I was too tired to sleep.

It wouldn't be fair if I didn't mention that I wasn't alone in this.  My husband is incredibly supportive and makes possible all that we do.  He also works hard and is an incredible father.  That said, women (at least in my household) still bear the burden of most of the domestic duties (note: I do have a bi-weekly cleaning service, without which I would be nuts).

Labor/Delivery/Hospital Stay/Etc:

I delivered AG at 37 weeks after my water broke.  Long labor story I won't recount (you'll note every woman has a "story").  By 37 weeks with MK, I was DONE.  So, when at 39 weeks I was still pregnant, I couldn't go into labor fast enough!  On 2.10.11, I woke up at 5 a.m. feeling "different."  But, I wasn't sure, so I went in to work; I left a noon.  I then high-tailed it to the car dealership where I was scheduled to pick up my new car at 4 p.m. that day; it wasn't ready any earlier. GRRRR....but I didn't have time; at this point, I knew "different" was likely labor.  

Next stop:  Quizno's to get a sub.  Here's a tip for all you pregnant ladies:  The hospital will not give you any food until after you deliver.  And, if you have a long labor (which I did with AG), you will be HUNGRY and have very little energy (other than adrenaline) to complete the task at hand. So, inbetween contractions, I took bites of my sandwich.  There are some negative consequences of said actions, but still a good decision, I think.

I got home just in time for my water to break.  Uh, sweet.  I called my husband and then my OB, who suggested I come into the office.  We did so; doctor sent us to the hospital.  Here's where I had deja vu.  I guess my body's MO is to break water and then do very little else.  Very slow to dilate.  So, nurse Bonnie (bless her) suggested I get an epidural followed by a round of pitocin to speed things along.  Sounded good to me; I wanted to meet this baby!

The next few hours were great.  Husband was at my side; I had the drugs and was watching some TV.  Much, much different experience than with AG (thought I'd die in pain with that one).  Note to self:  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.  After about 8 hrs of this, I start feeling very different; lots of back pain, chills, etc.,  And, feeling ready to "push."  Nurse called in - she checks things out to confirm I'm ready to push (I am) - and her face falls.  She says, "I think this baby's breech (feet first)."  Uh - nobody has every mentioned this very important fact to me before.  Doctor called in.  Face falls.  Same conclusion, only he looks very concerned.  We must get baby out now ('cause baby is coming OUT, and in the wrong direction) via C-section.  I look at husband:  he now looks concerned.  But - let's do this.

To the OR - about 10 people there - why does it take so many?  Anesthesia team can't seem to get me "numb," so they try a crazy cocktail of drugs, which finally work.  Of course, the result is I can't get comfy, feel like I'm going to puke the whole time (which is hard to do, by the way, when you're flat on your back and strapped down), am shaking and at one point, feel like I have an elephant sitting on my chest.  I didn't say I was going to spare details.

The hardest thing about a C-section, I've decided:  You don't get to hold your baby when she arrives into this world.  They whisk her away after a quick glance; I didn't see her again for some time (20 min?).  During that time, I was in and out...but something else was going on.  There were some afterbirth complications (I'll spare you the details) that made things pretty hairy and will impact any future decision to have children.  Let's just say that it was a blessing in disguise that I had to have a C-section, because I would've had emergency surgery anyway.  Poor husband was trying to divide time between OR (where I was beginning to get freaked out) and nursery (to check on his new daughter).  Such a bizarre experience.

In the end, MK is worth all of this, and we're both doing incredibly well.  But, my husband and I are still annoyed that through 9 mos of prenatal care - and nearly 12 hrs of labor in the hospital - no doctor or nurse ever realized MK was breech until she was almost out.  Subsequent doctors visits have confirmed she was breech all along.  Let's just say this makes my analytical lawyer husband very, very annoyed.

First Few Days:

Totally bizarre.  I fell in love instantaneously.  No need to say anything more about that.  It's just a feeling like no other.  I was honestly worried about having the same feelings for MK that I did for AG.  No problem. I'd lay down my life for both of them, and I feel like that isn't a strong enough statement.

Because C-section is surgery, a pretty different after-birth experience.  More hookups (code for:  didn't get out of bed for more than 24 hrs after birth); more meds (code for:  loopy).  What was the same:  visitors.  Now, let me be clear:  I love my family (I include my husband's family in this statement), and I know I need the help and support (especially with AG at home).  But, I'm a fairly private person in many ways (you wouldn't know it from this post), and I really value the alone time I have with my new baby (and my husband).  My family doesn't see it that way.  So - I pretty much has around-the-clock visitors while I was in the hospital.  The good news is that I was able to keep it down to those closest to me (grandparents of MK; my sister; etc.), but I don't know that I had more than a couple of hours alone.  I missed that.  Again - I love and appreciate all of my family - but I'm just being honest about what I missed.  My sister, on the other hand, delivered her second child in Charlotte several days later (crazy, huh?) and - coincidentally - had a good bit of alone time.  And, she would've much preferred it the other way around; different strokes...

Anytime family is brought into the equation, stress is also introduced.  So, without going into detail, let's just say during the first few days, there was some minor family "drama," as we were all sleep-deprived and on edge.  And, people's feelings are easily hurt.  But, between the painkillers to take the edge off and the historical knowledge that "this too shall pass," I was able to shrug most of it off.

Emotional Roller Coaster

I referenced this earlier.  So, over the past week, I have felt all of the following:

• Extreme love.  Love for my children.  Love for my husband.  Love for my mother for staying to help in any way she could.  Love for my father and husbands parents for wanting to help however they could.  
• Gratitude.  Could I be any more blessed?  Forget all the stressors of everyday life; the only thing that matters is this family that my husband and I have created.  I couldn't ever ask for anything more.  In fact, what did I ever do to deserve this?
• Pure joy.  I've cried tears of pure joy as I look at my baby's face.
• Sheer exhaustion.  My child things it's cool to sleep all day and stay awake all night.  My husband has to go to work, and I'm nursing, so guess who's up all night?
• Defensive.  One evening, in particular, my husband and I got into a pretty big argument after he made a comment that I took the wrong way.  Took 24 hrs for us to really talk to one another again.  That leads me to...
• Medicated.  Pain-killers are no joke.  Started taking Percocet in the hospital, which I'm pretty sure contributed to 99% (additional 1% thanks to hormones) of my defensive mode in said argument.  Developed what I think was an allergic reaction to it, so switched to Vicodin.  Also no joke, but feel much more "normal."  I've tried to stop taking, but pain is also no joke, so I'll likely finish out the prescription (a couple more days).  This, of course, means no wine that I've been wanting so badly.  I'm sort of over it, but again, the pain...
• Annoyed.  Annoyed that people don't understand I just want to have some alone time with my baby.  Annoyed that I'm up all night.  Annoyed that I have a house showing tomorrow that I need to prep for. Just annoyed.  

The good news?  All those negative feelings are so small compared to the love and gratitude and joy.  This is an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

I hear MK waking up.  AG will be home from school in an hour (by the way - I can't drive for two weeks - pretty interesting), so I have a little time to dote on my baby before the circus begin-:)

I'm sure this post was mundane and long to those of you reading it.  But, it's really for me.  I want to look back and read about this experience.  I'm going to try to document the first few weeks of this baby's life (in terms of my perspective and experience).   

More Vancouver

I'm dog-tired, so I hope this post is coherent!  I don't think I mentioned why I'm in Vancouver; I'm here for an annual meeting of the members of the Executive MBA Council (basically, business school administrators who run EMBA programs).  It's a great conference - truly one of the most useful trips I take all year - but I am always completely zonked by the end.  Sessions all day (although, I didn't have to present anything this year, which was a nice break), networking for all meals, and then in-between and at night, I have to catch up on "real work."  Add to that mix that I'm 6 mos pregnant, and you have a recipe for exhaustion by day 3 or 4.  So, there's the context.

I head home tomorrow - after one more meeting in the morning - and I'm ready!  But, the meetings have gone very well, and I've picked up some great information from my colleagues at other business schools.  This afternoon, one of my colleagues and I did have an opportunity to get out in Vancouver.  We walked about a mile to a ferry dock and took a short ferry to Granville Island, a great island filled with a public market and more shops than you can imagine...and surrounded by water.  Really pretty.  The public market reminded me of one of the things I miss not living in a big city (although I wouldn't trade my small-town Chapel Hill life for anything, save perhaps a little beach-living!).  The market was inside a huge warehouse type of structure, and comprised of stall after staff of food vendors.  Produce, meats, cheeses, gourmet foods, etc.  The closest places I can think of like it (that I've been) are the market in East London and a huge market in Decatur, GA.  It was a foodie's paradise. I had to treat myself to a crepe at the crepe stand.

In addition to the market, it was nice to just walk around in this beautiful city, enjoy the scenery and leisurely shop.  I'm not a big shopper, but I did pick up a couple small gifts for my daughter; hope she'll like them.  The was a huge "Kids Market," which included 20+ vendors selling children's wares.

I then completed the evening w/ a dinner (this one organized by the conference) at a restaurant on the island.  This is about the point when I realized I may fall asleep standing up, so now here I am, back in my hotel room and ready for a good night's sleep.

So, I didn't get an incredible amount of time to sightsee, but I what I did experience whetted my appetite to return to Vancouver for more.  Beautiful, beautiful city; I know I only scraped the surface of what it has to offer.

Vancouver: first impressions

As my flight was taking off from RDU yesterday (en route to Vancouver, BC via a layover in Toronto), I thought to myself, "Wow, this has really been a great travel year for me."  My husband always reminds me to look at the "glass half full," and I think I generally do, but I'd spent much of yesterday lamenting the impending long flight (about 7-8 hrs in total, and I.hate.flying.) and being away from my husband and daughter. I think I've commented on this blog before how difficult it is for me to leave them when I have to travel; I wouldn't have ever guessed I'd feel that way (BC (before children), I figured I'd welcome breaks!).  Back to my original point:  it occurred to me that - in 2010 - I've traveled to more places for the first time than I've done in over a decade.  Earlier this year, I went to Amsterdam & Istanbul, and now I was on my way to Vancouver (not to mention some great trips in between to oldies - but favorites - like Chicago and Pawley's Island, SC).  And, I would be remiss if I left Vidalia, GA off the "first time" list.

So, while the flight was just as bad as I thought it would be (should I remind you that I.hate.flying?), and I know I'll miss my family just as much as I anticipated, I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to explore a part of North America I've never been to:  the Pacific Northwest.  I suppose, like many adults, it's been awhile since I last studied with any level of scrutiny a N. American map.  I mention this, because, upon study yesterday, I was somewhat surprised at just how far north Vancouver is to, say, Northern California...and, how relatively close the city is to Seattle, WA (a couple hours drive).

I woke up this morning (I easily slept until 8:30 a.m. PT, which makes sense since I didn't arrive in my hotel room until 2 a.m. PT), checked some email, called home to check in with A & B, and then I determined I needed to make the most of my morning before my noon meeting.  It's Sunday morning, so me for, that meant breakfast!  Now, I'm not the "go down and eat hotel food" kind of gal.  When I'm in a new place, I want to find a good spot where locals eat (or at least tourists who know good food!).  So, I turned to one of my favorites sites:  Yelp.  I easily found some recommended breakfast spots near my hotel (Hyatt Regency Vancouver, which - by the way - is only a couple blocks from Vancouver Harbour.  Hotel is pretty typical Hyatt, but the location is fabulous!).  So - after a quick 10 minute walk - I strode into Scoozi's Eatery for its "famous" Eggs Benedict.  It was perfect - the place and the food.  Small place, clearly filled with locals, but not too busy to immediate be served.  Do you ever have something so good on your plate that you want to take small bites to make it last longer?  That was my breakfast.  And, I washed it down with a hot apple cider.  On a cold rainy day (about 45 degrees and raining), it was magical.  Great, great breakfast.

I then walked about a block (no joke) down to the Vancouver Harbour.  Wow.  Again, keep in mind I've never been anywhere in the Pacific Northwest (unless you count San Francisco, which I don't think counts), but even in the foggy rain, the view of the Harbour and mountains on the other side was incredible.  I stayed there for awhile, and then I walked back up to my hotel.  On the way, I stopped at Christ Church Cathedral, which is located across the street from my hotel, to listen to some of the Eucharist music.  Beautiful.

In short:  this city is great.  It's probably one of the prettiest cities I've been to (prettiest downtown areas, anyway, since I haven't yet seen much of the city); it does remind me of San Francisco a bit - hilly, by the water, foggy, rainy...

Oh - and random observation - but shouldn't be surprised based on geographic location - I've seen more people here of Asian descent than I think I've ever seen anywhere.  Just an observation.

I'm off to get ready for my meeting; rest of the day is "business," but will still hope to enjoy:)

A mommy's mini-rant

In general, I subscribe to the self-policing practice of not putting any potentially controversial opinions anywhere online.  As we all know, this stuff will "live forever," and as a marketing professional, I'm probably more sensitive than average about how anything I put out may reflect on my professional life.

But - every once in awhile (if you read through my blog, you'll see a few instances of this) - we all need to vent - in a constructive manner, of course:).  I choose not to take to Facebook or Twitter to do so; I generally write a few words on my blog.  It's cathartic.

So, here's the deal:  I'm a mom.  Yes, we've established that.  But, that's not the only thing that defines me.  That this point in my life, my identity as a mother is arguably the most sacred and important way in which I define myself, however,  I mean, we're talking about my responsibility for raising a child.  This is no small thing.  Does this make me "more important" or "busier" than a woman my age who does not have children?  No.  We all are unique in our life experiences, and I certainly don't feel like my life is "worth more" than it was before I had a child, for instance.  I feel a greater sense of responsibility, but that's something completely different.  Anyway, I'm rambling...back to my point:  In addition to being a mother, I also work full time in a relatively demanding professional role.  My work requires me to be flexible - working some nights and weekends - and sometimes traveling away from my family.  I also assume the primary role at home for working meals, cleaning, lining up childcare, etc.  You know the drill.  Now, don't misunderstand me - I have an incredibly supportive husband without whom I could never do what I do (nor would I want to), but in short, life is full and busy.  And, I love it. I'm happy, and I've generally figured out how to balance things such that I feel like each part of my life is getting a fair part of me.

You'll notice I didn't mention friends.  It's not that they're not important - because I have and have always had wonderful friends.  I count myself as one of those truly blessed women who has long-lasting, true friendships.  And, I have a good number of them.  I take the time to let my friends know I care; I take the time to do "girls" weekends - sometimes with children and sometimes without.  I take the time to go to dinner on a regular basis, etc.  But - I'll be honest - in rare instances in which I'm forced to prioritize things in my life - my family comes out on top.  On top of work, on top of fun, on top of friends.  And, I'm okay with that.  I'm responsible for ensuring I provide a loving, stable, safe, enriching childhood for my child(ren), and that will always win when push comes to shove.  Again - let me be clear - this doesn't mean my friends,  my work, myself aren't important or that I don't make time for them.  It just means that - when forced to choose - the choice is easy for me.  And, frankly, not always a fun choice, just the one I feel like I must make.  Only I have to wake up with  myself every morning.

Every once in a blue moon - and obviously now is one of those times - one of my friends who does not yet have children (and you can't understand the juggling act until you do; I certainly did not attempt to) is offended by these choices.  And, sometimes these friends suggest that perhaps I don't understand that they also have lives but are willing to put friends first, etc.  And, what I struggle to try to explain is the following:  Wrong.  I do get it.  I know you're busy (in fact, I remember working so hard before I had Anna that I would literally get sick from running myself ragged). I know you have full lives doing incredible things I can't even imagine:  running marathons, conducting valuable charity work, etc.  I would never in a million years suggest my life is more important, or even busier, because I am a mother.

But - I have one more factor in my life (soon to be two) that does force me to prioritize in a different way sometimes.  And, that's just a fact.  I love my friends. But - rather than being cynical or pointing fingers, I'd like to ask that you be supportive such that one day - if you're also in my situation - you'll perhaps be able to expect and ask the same of me.

I'd also ask that you read this article that has been around the block quite sometime, but is still true.  It depicts the day in the life of a stay-at-home mom, but it's relevant to all moms.  http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/22/AR2007052201554.html?referrer=facebook

Again, let me be clear, I'm not suggesting I'm more important or busier.  We are unique.  We have different challenges.  These are mine.  Please be supportive instead of snarky.

Zucchini overload!

We've planted a garden the past few summers.  Ahem - I should clarify - Brian plants a garden.  I just pick the veggies once they're ready!  Trust me, it's best this way.

This year, I think we planted one too many zucchini plants.  I've had more zucchini than I've known what to do with; unfortunately, it's not my favorite vegetable, either.

What to do?  Zucchini bread!  I got this recipe from the Wood Family Cookbook, a collection of recipes from Brian's paternal grandmother's family.  If I'm ever looking for a southern staple, this is my first stop.  It's delicious!

Zucchini Bread
Notes:  1) This makes too much batter for one loaf pan; the recipes doesn't indicate so, but I think it's probably a double recipe.  2) I found this to take more than the suggested 35 minutes.  I suggest setting your timer for 35, then checking using the "clean toothpick" test.  If not done, keep trying at 10 minute increments.  I ended up cooking mine closer to an hour, and it was still incredibly moist.

3 c. all-purpose flour
2 t. baking soda
1 t. salt
1/2 t. baking powder
1 1/2 t. cinnamon
3/4 c. finely chopped nuts (I leave these out, because Anna doesn't dig them)
2 c. sugar
3 eggs
1 c. vegetable oil (clearly eliminates any suggestion that this is a health food)
2 t. vanilla
2 c. coarsely shredded zucchini (I just used a manual grater, but you could certainly use your food processor)
8 oz. can crushed pineapple, drained well

Combine dry ingredients, set aside.  Beat eggs, add sugar, oil and vanilla.  Beat until creamy. Stir in zucchini and pineapple.  Add dry ingredients, stirring until just moist.  Bake at 350 for 35 minutes until done.

Enjoy!

Chicken Tostadas

Little Bit's now two years old (okay, she has been for a few months), and I don't feel like I can continue to get away with the "feed her early and then B and I eat after she goes to bed" routine.  Plus, she essentially eats no veggies (just doesn't like them?), so I figured we all needed to sit down and eat the same thing.  I should mention that she's begun to "cook" with me while I'm preparing dinner, and this activity really seems to improve what she's eating, because she wants to eat what she cooks.  I was stunned last week when she readily ate broccoli, which she previously wouldn't touch.

So - that's a long-winded intro to say that I'm trying some new recipes - family-friendly ones, that is.  Here's one that I like a lot.  It's quick, simple, not too heavy (it's still so hot outside) and tasty.  Credit goes to Robin Miller (who has a show on the Food Network).  

Notes:  I obviously didn't put pickled jalapeños on Little Bit's.  And, I garnished with avocado, salsa and sour cream.  She loves sour cream.

Ingredients

• Cooking spray
• 4 (6-inch) corn tortillas
• 4 cups shredded lettuce
• 4 cooked chicken breast halves, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 tomato, diced
• 1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
• 1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
• 1/4 cup diced pickled jalapenos
• Chopped fresh cilantro leaves, to garnish
• Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette, recipe follows

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray.

Arrange tortillas on prepared baking sheet and spray tortillas with cooking spray. Brush in cooking spray to coat. Bake 5 to 6 minutes, until golden brown. Transfer tortillas to individual plates and top with lettuce, chicken, tomatoes, corn, black beans, and jalapenos. Sprinkle cilantro over top to garnish, if desired. Drizzle with Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette.

Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette:

1/3 cup chicken broth

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 teaspoons honey mustard

1 teaspoon lime zest

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

2 tablespoons fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped

Salt and ground black pepper

In a container or jar, place chicken broth, olive oil, honey mustard, lime zest, lime juice, cilantro, salt and pepper. Cover with lid. Shake to combine. To serve, drizzle over Chicken Tostada.

Tuna Pasta Salad

Today is one of those days when I really love my job, because two days a week, I get to eat lunch at home.  I know that sounds silly, but it makes a big difference in my work/rest of my life balance.  Of course, the flip side of that coin is that I work a good number of Saturdays and evenings (so, let's just say it all balances out).


What does this have to do with "Tuna Pasta Salad?"  Well, today, I was looking in my fridge for something to eat for lunch, and nothing appealed to me.  Then, I looked in the pantry:  PASTA!  I love pasta (could eat it for every meal, I think), but it's clearly not the most healthy option all the time.  Today, I decided I'd try to mix in enough other ingredients to make the dish healthy, and I ended up with something that was incredibly tasty - and healthy - so I'm sharing here.  


Keep in mind, I threw in a little of this and that when making, so the ingredient amounts may not be right on:

• About 1/3-1/2 pound pasta - your favorite shape.  I had a box of piccolo (small) fusilli
• couple hands full of cherry or grape tomatoes
• handful of salad greens (I had mixed organic salad greens)
• can of white albacore tuna, packed in water (packed in oil would be even better)
• several ounces of goat cheese (plain, sold in log-shape style)
• 1-2 T olive oil
• 1/2 lemon
• salt and pepper to taste

I boiled the pasta in salted water.  Halfway through, I added the tomatoes (did not cut them), so they would get soft and sort-of-cooked.  Drained the pasta and mixed with the rest of ingredients.  Viola - a great, warm, relatively healthy pasta salad.  I ate half and put the rest in the fridge for later. We have some fresh arugala in our garden, and I think that would be even better than the mixed greens; call me lazy for not walking out there to get it.

Enjoy!

Mexican Pulled Pork Over Yellow Rice

My friend, Letty, gave me the Augusta, GA Junior League cookbook, Par 3, a few years ago.  YUM.  I've long been a devotee of Junior League cookbooks, and I think this one is my favorite so far.  The following recipe is one of many I cook on a fairly regular basis.  My two-yo daughter likes it.

1 onion, chopped
1 3.5 pound boneless pork shoulder roast (I generally use a pork loin, as it's much leaner, but it's a little tougher)
1 can Rotel
1 (4oz) can diced green chiles
1 can yellow corn, drained
1 t garlic powder
1 t salt
2 t cumin
1 1/2 t dried oregano
1/2 t cayenne pepper (I don't use quite that much)
3 T tomato paste
1 package yellow saffron rice
sour cream and chopped fresh cilantro for garnish

Combine onion and pork in slow cooker.
Mix rest of ingredients - except tomato paste and rice - and pour over roast.  Cover and cook on high for 5 hours.
Remove roast and shred with fork.  Remove 1 1/2 cups of the liquid and discard.
Add tomato paste to cooker and cook on high for 30 min.
Return meat to cooker and heat through.
Cook rice and serve with pork and garnish.

Pimento Cheese

Christine's Pimento Cheese


Rarely can I claim a recipe to be my own (versus something I found), but this one actually is-:)  I was tired of following pimento cheese recipes only to be disappointed.  Like anything, good pimento cheese is a subjective thing, so you may not like mine, but I sure do!   I make mine up as I go along, so here's as close as I can get to an actual recipe:

8 oz sharp cheddar - grated

4 oz pepper jack - grated

2 T parmesan - grated

1 4-oz jar chopped pimentos, drained

as much mayo as seems right to you (somewhere around 1/2 cup, I think) - I always use Kraft full-fat, but everyone has a mayo preference

1 T dijon mustard

a pink of cayenne

Mix and serve with crackers, crudités or on a sandwich.  

Not love.

The last post I wrote was about love.  This post is the antithesis of love.  This post is about violence. I recently followed this story about a young UVA student who was beaten and killed by her fellow-UVA student ex-boyfriend (here's a link to one of many stories about the murder) http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/TheLaw/yeardley-love-death-warning-signs-missed-ahead-university/story?id=10581761.  Not surprisingly, Love's friends are now coming out and saying that there was a history of violence in the relationship.  Shocking.

We all know someone who has been in a violent relationship, don't we?  I know too many women - young and old - who have allowed men to physically and mentally abuse them.  I find myself getting angry about this as I type.

Don't let this happen to you.  As I told someone very close to me when she was lying for her then-boyfriend and to herself:  You could end up dead.  Why do women think it'll never be them?  Or - perhaps an even better question - why do women not value themselves enough to care?

If someone - man, woman, boyfriend or not - has tried to control you, threaten violence toward you, or even worse, acted on that threat, hear me now:  GET HELP NOW.  Don't be embarrassed to admit the situation to those you trust; you will likely need help to separate yourself from the psychological hold the person likely has over you.  You may also need help to physically separate yourself from that person.  But - know this:  He will not change.  And - let's say he even could - do you want to risk the chance he won't?

We have this one life here.  We're all worth something.  Don't let someone who clearly has his own issues take your life away from you.  I feel so sorry for the UVA student and her friends and family who wish they had done something.  Please recognize this could be you.

Love.

Music never fails to conjur up memories.  I'm sitting here - with the intention of doing some work after Anna went to bed - and I'm listing to some music.  One of the songs (True Companion,if you must know the title) brought back a memory as clear as day.

I've mentioned my friend Jane a few times on this blog; she was a great friend to me.  One of her unique characteristics was that she could really "see" people; see through whatever face you were putting on and get to the core (boy, do I wish I could do this).  I recall one day when I went to her house to vent about B.  I was so incredibly frustrated and angry with something or other he had done (or not done).  Of course, the details of the offense are insignificant today (so much so that I don't recall them).  Truth be told, I thought the early days of our marriage were some of the most trying of our relationship.  I could guess why, but that's another blog post.

Anyway, she said two things that will always stay with me (as I was complaining and talking out my feelings, as I tend to do, etc.):

1) "Christine, you should read this book called Loving What Is."  She went on to explain that the core message of the book was to sift through the clutter and simply love someone for who he/she is, regardless of faults.  That's not to excuse dangerous/damaging behaviors, etc., but to suggest that many of us are constantly trying to make someone who we want him to be (and subsequently forget what we initially loved about that person in the first place).  And, she went on to remind me that none of us is perfect.  I think - no, I know - that I needed that reminder at the time.

2)  The second thing she said to me during the course of our conversation was, "Christine, you just really, really love [B] him, don't you?"  Now, that statement may not seem so strange (he is my husband, after all), but it was the way her face completely shone when she said it.  It was as if the feelings I clearly had for him were simply wonderful and miraculous to her.  Here I was, complaining and venting, and she saw through it all to the core truth.

This is where there's the risk of me getting mushy...because she was right.  I have numerous pics of B & Anna, but I'm posting one here that I love.  My two loves-:)  Okay, enough mush.  Need to change the music!

Home.

Toward the end of my recent European travels, I found myself too tired to blog.  I really wanted to capture in writing my reflections on my day of site-seeing in Istanbul, namely because it was a simultaneously lovely and bizarre experience.  I will take some time soon to write a post about that day - and my final thoughts on my trip - but not right now.

Right now, I simply want to share my thoughts on coming home.  Here's what I know:  I knew it was important that I go on this trip (in addition to being something I had to do for work), because it was an opportunity to stretch my perspective and learn about some new cultures I hadn't previously experienced (I've been to Europe a few times, but never to these places).  But, I was anxious to leave Anna.  I cried the day I left.  And, I thought numerous times about the responsibility that I have as a mother to be there for my child.  the realist in me knew that all would be fine, the week would fly by, and I'd find myself back at home wondering if the incredibly experience even happened at all. But, the super-freak in me thought about all the opportunities for things to go awry, leaving Anna without her mother.  Sounds silly, I know.

My point?  The gratitude I felt for the opportunity and experience didn't come close to matching that which I felt when I arrived home late Saturday night and hugged Brian and Anna.  Brian had a bottle of wine waiting for me (he knows me well) and was ready to hear "all about my trip."  I woke up Anna, and she grinned from ear to ear; I can see it as sweetly in my mind now as if it was just a minute ago.

I will always try to stretch myself and learn new things, if for no other reason than to become a better and more balanced mother for Anna.  But, at the end of the day, I belong here with B & Anna.  My life is far from perfect (for many reasons), but I've spent some time recently thinking about how the Universe (or God, or Mother Nature, you get my drift) knew what it was doing on that day in the Fall of 1995 when I met B for the first time.  It hasn't been a straight, smooth road, but the good ones never are.  That day led us both to this life we're living now, which is rich beyond what I could have ever asked for.

It's good to be home.

Great Speakers.

I'll write more later, but I thought I'd post a link to a blog post I wrote for http://embatalk.com for UNC Kenan-Flagler.  This highlights some of the insights I gleaned from our speakers today in Istanbul.  Truly fascinating; I can't do them justice.
http://embatalk.com/2010/03/onemba-european-residency-days-fourfive/

Follow up.

It's 1:44 a.m. in Istanbul; I arrived at my (beautiful) hotel about an hour ago.  Just in case anyone is reading this (unlikely), I thought I'd just note that I am feeling much better about this trip, and I'm genuinely excited about seeing this city!

More tomorrow.

p.s. here I am in Taksim Square