I have written and rewritten a blog about the health care reform, but haven't actually posted anything. I've been reading all kinds of reviews and other blogs, both those whose opinions match mine and those whose are different. I think it's important to read both sides so that I can both be reaffirmed in my beliefs but also stretched to think about things differently.
Unfortunately, I tend to get pretty worked up over this issue and while I appreciate reading other people's highly opinionated posts, it's not the kind of thing I want to post. Much to the chagrin of some, I tend to be a middle-of-the-road kind of gal and tend to be opposed to any kind of extremism. In fact, I've really come to appreciate the "hide" feature of Facebook when it comes to recent politics. The idea of "I'm definitely right; you're definitely wrong," just doesn't sit well with me.
So, the blog I've saved may not ever be posted but basically, I'm all for some overhaul of our health care system (and I think the education system needs to be next on the list) and I support Obama's plan. I'm proud of the steps our government took in putting the majority of Americans' best interest first and I'm disappointed in the response of Virginia's governor and his closed-mindedness. While I myself am not conservative, I can understand how and why people hold conservative values close to their hearts and to their families. What I don't get is how it's okay to say that those ideals are best for the nation as a whole, when we are so diverse. I hope my children grow up to be caring and compassionate people who understand that.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Learning a New Language
You want a story analyzed? I'm on it. You need a poem written? I'm your girl. You have questions about education, literacy or tweens? I got ya covered. But mathy/computery stuff is SO not my forte.
Despite this, I'm trying to learn HTML, CSS and/or javascript. I've been looking at and studying (albeit briefly) the codes on blogs that I like, trying to figure how coloring and fonts and whatnot. One of my coworkers, Katlyn, knows the basics and her blog looks great. She's pointed me in some good directions (although I secrety wish I could draw it out for her and she could code it for me!), so wish me luck. And if you have any suggestions, please leave them for me here! I need all the help I can get!
Despite this, I'm trying to learn HTML, CSS and/or javascript. I've been looking at and studying (albeit briefly) the codes on blogs that I like, trying to figure how coloring and fonts and whatnot. One of my coworkers, Katlyn, knows the basics and her blog looks great. She's pointed me in some good directions (although I secrety wish I could draw it out for her and she could code it for me!), so wish me luck. And if you have any suggestions, please leave them for me here! I need all the help I can get!
Monday, March 15, 2010
5 to 1
In the Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin noted that for every 1 negative interaction, it takes 5 positive ones to build up up good vibes again (she said it in a much more scientific and stastical way, but you get the idea). This one fact has really stuck with me and I've made an effort to make sure to have positive interactions with J, with my kids, with my students and coworkers, with my friends. When Callie was working on her masters degree, she shared this same idea as social capital. We have to invest in our relationships so that they can weather the inevitable storms.
For J and I, it's great to have date nights and snuggle time together on the couch, but sometimes those interactions are as simple as calling to say thank you for making our morning go smoothly or emailing an article that reminds us that parenting is hard for everyone and that is not only our children who are challenging. For the kids, we make sure to have some one-on-one time with each boy, but also just time together as a family. When the weather is warm, we go on LOTS of picnics. We avoid the tv, phones, computers and just focus on each other. As hard as it seems to have gotten sometimes, I try to see my girlfriends on a regular (or at least semi-regular) basis. It can be brunch or catching up at a party or making plans for a girls' overnight in the summer, but connecting them always reminds me that I am more than just J's wife, H's stepmom or E's mama.
I can't be sure that the 5 to 1 ratio is completely accurate, but it makes sense to me. So how do you invest in your social capitalism?
For J and I, it's great to have date nights and snuggle time together on the couch, but sometimes those interactions are as simple as calling to say thank you for making our morning go smoothly or emailing an article that reminds us that parenting is hard for everyone and that is not only our children who are challenging. For the kids, we make sure to have some one-on-one time with each boy, but also just time together as a family. When the weather is warm, we go on LOTS of picnics. We avoid the tv, phones, computers and just focus on each other. As hard as it seems to have gotten sometimes, I try to see my girlfriends on a regular (or at least semi-regular) basis. It can be brunch or catching up at a party or making plans for a girls' overnight in the summer, but connecting them always reminds me that I am more than just J's wife, H's stepmom or E's mama.
I can't be sure that the 5 to 1 ratio is completely accurate, but it makes sense to me. So how do you invest in your social capitalism?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
A Triple Shot of 3 Good Things
A weekend in review--
1. Friday night birthday dinner for E$ with the fam.
2. E$'s Dancey Dance on Saturday-- so many people crammed into our tiny house, showing so much love for our little guy. He had an awesome time, which lead us to...
3. A 3 hour nap on Saturday with the boys.
1. A Saturday night potluck for Jess's 30th birthday.
2. Laughing hysterically at our reponses to Loaded Questions (what does Liz fear the most? According to Adam, who had to decipher her handwriting, "surfing and torture.")
3. Sunday afternoon date with Halsey. We went to lunch and to see Alice in Wonderland.
1. Sun, sun, sunny sun!
2. A walk this afternoon.
3. A sweet smelling, sleeping boy in my lap.
1. Friday night birthday dinner for E$ with the fam.
2. E$'s Dancey Dance on Saturday-- so many people crammed into our tiny house, showing so much love for our little guy. He had an awesome time, which lead us to...
3. A 3 hour nap on Saturday with the boys.
1. A Saturday night potluck for Jess's 30th birthday.
2. Laughing hysterically at our reponses to Loaded Questions (what does Liz fear the most? According to Adam, who had to decipher her handwriting, "surfing and torture.")
3. Sunday afternoon date with Halsey. We went to lunch and to see Alice in Wonderland.
1. Sun, sun, sunny sun!
2. A walk this afternoon.
3. A sweet smelling, sleeping boy in my lap.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
2 Years
Two years ago, I had been in real, actual labor for about two hours. Contractions were regular and not intense, but were definitely different than the ones I'd been having on and off for the previous two weeks. Susan, Jessica, Jason and I had eaten black beans and rice for dinner (we make our black beans with salsa and pineapple, so maybe there's something to the old wive's tale that pineapple can jumpstart labor) and were watching TV, maybe America's Best Dance Crew. Around 10:00pm, I decided to go to bed and try to get some sleep, knowing that within the next day, my life was going to be forever changed in ways I didn't yet understand.
I didn't sleep; I layed in bed for two hours and watched the minutes pass. By the time I asked Jason to draw a bath, I was in a different frame of mind. Somehow, I let my head and my body almost separate; I tried to just let my body do what it knew how to do. We went to the hospital around 2:00am, and my contractions were one on top of the other; they were so intense and I was so sure I was in transition. I wasn't, or at least my cervix hadn't caught up with the contractions. When the nurse told me I was only at 3cm, I was devastated and immediately asked for an epidural, something I had wanted so much to avoid. However, at that point, I was more worried about being so exhausted that I couldn't push and an epidural seemed to me the better choice. I believe my exact words were, "where is the God-forsaken anesthesialogist?" :) Jason, Jess and Susan can better attest to that. In addition to those three, my mom and my sister were both with me in our room, offering their emotional support.
I finally got my epidural around 7:00am and 7cm, and somehow an hour later, it was time to push. I was fortunate that the epidural was light; it really just took the edge off, so when it came time to push, I could feel Ethan moving down the birth canal, could feel his tight, slick body making it's way into this world. My nurse, Ailene, was phenomenal. She asked me to push three times with each contraction and was patient when I told her I just couldn't. She explained why I needed 3-- one to make up for the backslide, one to push him down further, and one to keep him from sliding, but told me that if I could only push twice, that was okay. Looking at her, at Jason on my right side, Jess on my left and feeling Susan's gentle reminders to relax in between contractions, I felt encouraged to push 3 times with each contraction. When he crowned, I reached down and felt his head, his hair and wanted even more just then to meet this boy who had been growing inside of me.
When he was born and put onto my chest, before he was wrapped in the white blanket with a pink and blue stripe, before his chest and nose were cleared, before he was weighed, he was given to me and my world shifted. When he was born to us, I was born his mother. His tiny cry, more like the mew of a kitten, made tears well up in my eyes and though I've never considered my heart small by any means, I felt like the Grinch at the end of the movie, as my heart seemed to swell in such a rush of emotion, thumping like it was going to burst through. As long as he was in my arms, I didn't care what else happened around me. I had never felt such true joy before that minute.
And now, that sweet baby is going to be 2. Tomorrow moring, he will be two years old. A toddler, no longer a baby, though he's small for his size. He is a talker; he said his first word at 9 months ("doggie") and has never stopped. His laugh is infectious; he already has such a developed sense of humor. He loves music and dancing; I love when he puts his arms up and steps from side to side when he hears a song he likes. He asks to hear "Daddy sing," for Gabba songs and most recently, "Baby Down Down Down." He loves the color green and still uses a pacificer. He's still nursing, though we're in the process of weaning. He has been sick twice ever; once last December when Jason had the flu and once last May, when he had the beginnings of an ear infection. He calls all blankets "gigi's," loves to fly on airplane and likes to play both the drums and guitar. He has my cowlick, my father's cowlick and my angry face. He's just barely 24lbs and in size 18 months, but I think it's because he never ever stops moving.
I am a fortunate girl to have such a supportive family, to have such an intelligent, devoted group of friends, to be married to my best best friend, all of whom have changed me and made a difference. But no one person has ever made the difference that Ethan has made. He has made me want to be a better person, to not just have dreams, but to make them happen, so that I can be a good example for him. He has taught me true patience, unconditional love and humility.
Happy 2nd birthday, Ethan. I more than love you.
I didn't sleep; I layed in bed for two hours and watched the minutes pass. By the time I asked Jason to draw a bath, I was in a different frame of mind. Somehow, I let my head and my body almost separate; I tried to just let my body do what it knew how to do. We went to the hospital around 2:00am, and my contractions were one on top of the other; they were so intense and I was so sure I was in transition. I wasn't, or at least my cervix hadn't caught up with the contractions. When the nurse told me I was only at 3cm, I was devastated and immediately asked for an epidural, something I had wanted so much to avoid. However, at that point, I was more worried about being so exhausted that I couldn't push and an epidural seemed to me the better choice. I believe my exact words were, "where is the God-forsaken anesthesialogist?" :) Jason, Jess and Susan can better attest to that. In addition to those three, my mom and my sister were both with me in our room, offering their emotional support.
I finally got my epidural around 7:00am and 7cm, and somehow an hour later, it was time to push. I was fortunate that the epidural was light; it really just took the edge off, so when it came time to push, I could feel Ethan moving down the birth canal, could feel his tight, slick body making it's way into this world. My nurse, Ailene, was phenomenal. She asked me to push three times with each contraction and was patient when I told her I just couldn't. She explained why I needed 3-- one to make up for the backslide, one to push him down further, and one to keep him from sliding, but told me that if I could only push twice, that was okay. Looking at her, at Jason on my right side, Jess on my left and feeling Susan's gentle reminders to relax in between contractions, I felt encouraged to push 3 times with each contraction. When he crowned, I reached down and felt his head, his hair and wanted even more just then to meet this boy who had been growing inside of me.
When he was born and put onto my chest, before he was wrapped in the white blanket with a pink and blue stripe, before his chest and nose were cleared, before he was weighed, he was given to me and my world shifted. When he was born to us, I was born his mother. His tiny cry, more like the mew of a kitten, made tears well up in my eyes and though I've never considered my heart small by any means, I felt like the Grinch at the end of the movie, as my heart seemed to swell in such a rush of emotion, thumping like it was going to burst through. As long as he was in my arms, I didn't care what else happened around me. I had never felt such true joy before that minute.
And now, that sweet baby is going to be 2. Tomorrow moring, he will be two years old. A toddler, no longer a baby, though he's small for his size. He is a talker; he said his first word at 9 months ("doggie") and has never stopped. His laugh is infectious; he already has such a developed sense of humor. He loves music and dancing; I love when he puts his arms up and steps from side to side when he hears a song he likes. He asks to hear "Daddy sing," for Gabba songs and most recently, "Baby Down Down Down." He loves the color green and still uses a pacificer. He's still nursing, though we're in the process of weaning. He has been sick twice ever; once last December when Jason had the flu and once last May, when he had the beginnings of an ear infection. He calls all blankets "gigi's," loves to fly on airplane and likes to play both the drums and guitar. He has my cowlick, my father's cowlick and my angry face. He's just barely 24lbs and in size 18 months, but I think it's because he never ever stops moving.
I am a fortunate girl to have such a supportive family, to have such an intelligent, devoted group of friends, to be married to my best best friend, all of whom have changed me and made a difference. But no one person has ever made the difference that Ethan has made. He has made me want to be a better person, to not just have dreams, but to make them happen, so that I can be a good example for him. He has taught me true patience, unconditional love and humility.
Happy 2nd birthday, Ethan. I more than love you.
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