From Connected to Unplugged

What a week. Since Monday, I have been on an isolated planet. Not really, but I have been without internet. Isn't that the same thing? According to The NPD Group about 93% of US households are connected, with an average of 5.7 devices per household. (Interesting note, in 1997 only 18% of US households had internet access). So for the past three days, I have been floating in the small pool of the 7%, which I can only assume is otherwise occupied by disconnected canines (would the US census bureau be counting dog houses in the population?). It's been tough. Sure, I missed the surfing, shopping, and Pinterest, but have you ever tried to work from home without the internet? I was left with a slow, battery-eating phone which struggled to pull a stable 3g connection for all the data I was requesting. No matter how big your smartphone screen is, I don't find it a good viewing space for working or surfing for any substantial amount of time.

Why was I unplugged? Well...AT&T is entirely responsible. I called to ask about obtaining better package pricing after our promotional period had expired. (We were assured upfront we would be able to do this.) The customer service people (all 3 of them) were fairly helpful. They seemed to have no issues offering a new package...as long as we would disconnect our current service and start a new account with them. To get the same prices, same deal, and same services we had previously. It didn't sound logical, but I was willing to go along with whatever i's had to be dotted. Until they mentioned it meant a physical disconnection and two technicians would have to come out later in the week to reinstall. What?? But, a decrease in cable is necessary, so I had to agree.

Day 1: I figure I'll get by using my phone. Two hours later, I'm still trying to accomplish one simple task.

 I gave up and started reading books the rest of the day. Hmmm...no internet and no TV got me to read.

Day 2: I am learning a lot from the baby books, and I'm finally tackling a stack of pleasure reading I've wanted to get to for months. Well...

Day 3: I'm really starting to get bored and frustrated. But, TV is back since Tech #1 came out to the house. End of reading.

Day 4: I got the internet back today. Unfortunately, your technician only had to enter a number online to get it working. He and I both thought it was unnecessary for him to come out. Starting to get angry. Then he wakes up the child I mentioned was sleeping. I've now been left with a grumpy and fussy child the remainder of the day which prevents me from even using the internet I now have again.

So the lessons here are:

1. Corporate America is still full of ridiculous policy and waste.
2. I am absolutely dependent on having internet access.
3. I'm okay with that dependency.
4. I dislike all cable/internet companies. Pretty sure they spend their days conspiring to overcharge and underdeliver.
5. My kid is really fussy if she skips naps. 
6. All the helpful baby book reading in the world won't fix #5.
7. If nothing else, AT&T did give me a blog topic. I guess that's the silver lining, because I had been struggling to find the right topic for a few days. Problem solved. And they are now saving me $30 a month.

From Coffee to the Salamander

Let me explain...I must have coffee in the morning. I am, by now, positive it is 90% in my head, but still, the fact is I must have it. So, first thing I do after getting Hayley up and ready is to start the coffee while I start her breakfast. Seems like a sound plan. So she has her oatmeal and fruit, followed by a not-so-yummy bottle. Then it's time to help me get ready for the day (shower, dress, get a face on). After all this, it is time for a nap (sometimes for me, but in this case, I mean Hayley). After getting her down for a nap, I rush downstairs to wash dishes, clean her bottles, pick up the breakfast mess, start laundry, and then grab 10-15 minutes of computer time before she wakes. 

Then it's back up to get her up and dressed for the day. Now she's ready to play so we have some floor time with toys upstairs for a bit before coming downstairs to get in her jumper and hop away. When she's bored of that, it's usually time to switch the laundry and do some more cleaning, so she tags along. Then it's either lunch (a pureed veggie) or bottle time before the next nap. 

OK, next nap commences so I am either taking a nap myself on the bad days or I am catching up on some work. I also usually make something for lunch at this point. Wake up time again! Now it's back to the jumper for a bit to wake up and stretch. At this point, she usually plays more with the toys on the jumper rather than hopping. One of those toys is a spinning salamander. She loves to make it spin. While I watch in amusement, I realize I have yet to actually drink my coffee. In fact, it's still sitting on the Keurig. Dang. (Full disclosure there are days where I remember it while working and will drink it then. Those are good days.)

Image from http://www.domesticatedmomma.com/

All of that brings me to my point. I miss my brain. I've said it and alluded to it before, but some days I lament the mushiness that remains where a once-functioning brain used to be. All I have now is Mommy Brain. It happens to the best of us, I guess. 

I have artfully-crafted this post many times in my most-favorite thinking place (the shower), and yet, by the time I have a moment to actually compose the words, I am left with a blank stare and idle fingers. (I promise it was supposed to be full of intriguing insights and thoughtful considerations.) Had I not had a brief, striking moment of clarity at 2 a.m. this morning, it may not have been written at all. But while staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes I was wasting, I suddenly thought of many words I tried to think of over the course of the last week. Words I used to use frequently in my vocabulary. (These days, I am lucky to remember "vocabulary".) I suppose it is how nature intends. When you are a mom, your first and largest thoughts must be centered around your child. The next portion is for your significant other/family. And then typically work, household, etc. The last thing you get to use your brain for is yourself. All the more reason to exercise not only your body, but also your mind (does Words with Friends count?).

So I get the reasoning behind my dearly-departed brain, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I guess I have to take solace in what I can still do with it.

Ask me where the favorite paci, cherished Sophie teether, newest favorite toy, or closest bib is, and I can tell you without blinking.

Ask me to spell salamander, and you will probably have some time to go make coffee for yourself.

From Denying to Defining

As promised, I am breaking away from the mommy posts for a minute. The only thing that has to do with this topic is the situations becoming a mom has put me in, forcing me to take a second look at humility, reliance, and the mirror.

I had a revelation. An epiphany. Or perhaps I just finally admitted something I already knew. I struggle with codependency. Cue: Hello, my name is Jamie, and I am codependent. 

I've always prided myself on being loyal in relationship and friendships. I've gleaned satisfaction from going above and beyond in my jobs. I have happily contributed my talents when the opportunity arose. I have never blinked when carrying out a favor asked by a friend or stranger. And, I relish the chance to be the hostess. 

On the other hand, I let myself become a doormat when relationships and friendships become one-sided or unhealthy. I put too much concern into jobs that neither ask for nor appreciate extra effort. I run myself ragged trying to impress people. I do favor after favor, even for those who don't need/appreciate/reciprocate. And, I am always exhausted after prepping, cleaning, cooking, baking, hosting, and cleaning. So my realization is that I am doing these things not for other people, but for myself to gain approval from other people. 

I would be ashamed to count and admit the number of times I have made excuses for other people's behaviors as though I was personally responsible for their actions or carelessness. I shudder to think of the excuses I have made for others to MYSELF. It's not because I am blind to shortcomings; rather, I somehow feel if I were to accept another person's poor choice and move on, I would be also claiming that lack of judgment. I have been defining myself by others' successes or failures, which explains my need to over-support and under-criticize those in my life. Hello, my name is Jamie, and I am codependent. 

No one ever directly pointed this out to me. At least, not in these words. I have definitely heard the message "you do too much" or "you give them too much credit" or "you're wasting your time". I even have had a few people give me informal book reports on Boundaries (I even received a copy of this one) and Codependent No More. I silently pitied their plight, but be glad they were working to improve their situation. Hello, Pot? This is Kettle.

But no one threw up a banner in my face and held an intervention to let me know what was happening. So I just never stopped to think about what I was doing or who I was. After all, as long as I did what others needed and helped them figure out who they were, I was a good person. See anything wrong with that picture? I am starting to. 

I found this interesting article on defining your own codependency. It's terrifying and freeing. Since acknowledging the problem is always step one, I can start spending my efforts on drawing healthy boundaries for myself (i.e. the line between being kind and being used, the line between listening and getting over-involved) and also learn to accept the generosity of others. I can allow everyone around me to be their very own person without me taking credit or fault in their actions. I realize all of this sounds a bit narcissistic, and perhaps it is, but I do claim all of my thoughts and efforts to be in good heart, just misguided direction. 

Part of the process may change and reshape my life as I know it. I may finally recognize some unhealthy relationships and move on. I may discover a piece of myself that needs more focus and work. I may even read that book on boundaries. I do know I need to address this now. Because I hear kids can really screw with even the most balance, sane personalities. 

After publication note: Right after publishing and sharing, I found this on Donald Miller's blog (great author). So nice to know I'm not alone.

From "I Understand" to "I've Been There"

Though I do promise that not every post will be dedicated to the drama of motherhood, let's face it. It is my life 24/7. Finding time to be mildly educated about current events is pointless, unless of course someone pinned it on Pinterest. In that case, I'm all over it and have already repinned anything worthwhile. (Insert, "Hi, my name is Jamie, and I am Pin-addict.) So, bear with me for now. Because this post is all about the kiddo.

There is something you don't know about being a parent until you are one. Parenthood is an exclusive club. And the only way to get membership is to be one. Because on the outside, you can certainly sympathize with the plights of a new (or veteran) parent. "I have to cancel because the kids are sick." "I can't come to your dinner party because we don't have a sitter". "I don't have time to talk right now." All understandable. Because everyone knows you have a kid to care for. I was one of those folks. I was more than understanding when one of my parent friends had something come up, but I will now admit that I always felt like I was missing something in the excuse. I was. It's called motherhood.

Only now can I truly understand canceling plans because of kids. I confirmed our home NYE dinner plans with the neighbors (to include the baby) a mere three hours before go time. Literally 20 minutes later, and for the next 2 hours, I was attempting (unsuccessfully) to console a crying screaming child. How was I supposed to know that she had this date marked as the evening to start teething and would suddenly only drink bottles around room temperature? But, she did expect me to know. I'm slow, and it took me 2 very exhausting hours to figure it out. I asked my hubby to cancel the plans I had recently confirmed. An hour before dinner. The friends were very sympathetic. But I can't help thinking that I know what really went through their heads when they got the call. It wasn't empathy. Because they don't have kids.

One of the horrible ironies of being a new mommy is the forced isolation. Sure you can take your kid to a friend's house or out in a store, but you are not ever you-focused. You are always watching the drooly-face for the slightest inkling of an impending meltdown so you can bolt before anything falls apart. Gone are the days of "feeling" conversations. Now it's all about motherly advice, kid questions, and story-swapping. The last time I had a conversation with anyone that didn't at least discuss something about what Hayley was up to or include me using a sing-song voice to talk was...before I got pregnant. And, I've come to accept that it will be that way. As have other parents in my life. But, I do miss the long chats with friends about nothing in particular, and I know they miss being able to talk over a problem that didn't involve spit up or diapers. One of my best friends had a baby a mere six weeks after I did. During the lapse when I was a new mom and she was still pregnant, I felt a bit disconnected because my problems weren't yet relatable to her life. The moment she had her baby, I knew the kinship was restored and stronger than ever. So when it took us her entire maternity leave to match schedules for a Skype call, she completely got it. Because it's her life too. But my other friends have had to adjust to call scheduling, and then cancelling, and then shortened responses from me to their issues and thoughts. Because I almost always have the aroma of partially-digested formula on my clothes and probably some bodily fluid of some sort in my hair to remind me that I'm not alone. And the timer on the call is running. Always. But this doesn't hit home unless you have a kid.

Hayley just had her four month shots. When I mention shot appointments, non-parent friends say "aww poor thing". Which is great, because I do feel so bad for her and how icky she feels. But they mean they are sorry about the pricking. The real misery, as parents know, comes after the appointment. When the rotavirus causes them to explode past the bounds of the diaper and end up with poop in their hair, under their arms, and between toes. When they try to play like any other day and whimper when they find out their legs are sore. The shot is the easiest part. It's the aftermath that will kill you. Only a parent knows. Why didn't I get time to do the dishes today? Because my kid had shots this morning.

So, I don't blame those without kids for not getting it. Because most everyone tries to understand. Some even knock on the clubhouse door. But they never get past the threshold until they have their first baby in their arms. And poop somewhere on their person. It's just the way it is. But I do have hope that someday I'll get a visitor's pass back into the singles' clubhouse. It's fun there. And almost never results in inspecting a rash for unusual color. But, I am a proud cardholder of the mommy clubhouse. And I wouldn't trade it for a clean shirt. Most days. And all I can ask it that those in the other club do their best to understand.

From One Year to the Next

Well, it's official. I am one year older today. And while every birthday after 25 just serves as a countdown to the next scary number, this year is truly one to celebrate. And it's all thanks to a stick and a roll.

Hard to believe a year ago I found out I was pregnant (see stick above). A year later, my little girl has figured out how to roll from back to tummy. Talk about growth.

Typically, and probably like many of you, I see birthdays as a time to take stock of what I've accomplished with the last year. It never seems like I did enough or achieved something remarkable. But, this year, all that has changed. I will admit, I am the first in line to criticize myself and find the cracks where most people see nothing. So my first instinct was to take that same attitude this year. After all, I am walking away from a job, I am that much more jaded about the working world, I have a few extra pounds this year, I added more debt to my life, I feel like I am constantly paddling in the waves and only being sent back out to sea most days, and I have realized it's time to let some things and people go.

On the other hand, I am going to get to watch my little girl learn new things every day because I'm home, I will take my jaded view and look for ways to create something better, I have a beautiful baby thanks to those extra pounds, I have a master's degree to go along with that debt, I have a wonderful navigator watching over me who sends me just enough rope when I need it, and I appreciate the wonderful people I am keeping in my life all the more. And, I truly do have some amazing people in my life. A mother I can look up to as a role model for my own journey in motherhood; a husband who helps me realize when I'm clinging to the wrong things and rights my path; a few wonderful friends who I can call on anytime, without hesitation, and know they will be there; in-laws that I can honestly say I adore as my own family; a brother who helped shape the person I am today; and a stepfather who never once felt like a step anything. Now I have a daughter who, everyday, shows me new and exciting things about the world and helps me realize little accomplishments must be celebrated. Finding out your fingers can, in fact, grab the toy dangling in front of you. Figuring out how to use those long legs to move in a bouncy toy. Discovering you can make Mom and Dad smile by grinning. And, learning that with effort and cooperation, it is possible to roll from back to front. Every time she figures something out, she erupts into a face-spanning smile. We should all be so proud and excited to relish in our small victories every day. Getting a good parking space. Waking up rested. Drinking a perfect cup of coffee (before it gets cold). Continuing a blog as a promise to yourself. Making it to your next birthday.

One of my favorite shows (maybe of all time) recently had this epiphany of small victories.

Watch the episode here.


Enjoy today.