Musings

Being Happy …

I saw this quote on Face­book the other day and thought about how per­fect it was in rela­tion­ship to the last post I wrote.

I need to do that. Be happy with my life and where it’s at. 

For the most part, I think I am … I’m lucky to be mar­ried to my best friend and that makes all the dif­fer­ence in the world. I have some­one I can implic­itly trust all my hopes and fears. I have some­one who has been with me to h*ll and back with all the curve balls life has thrown me. And he’s still stand­ing next to me. 

So I guess you can say I suc­ceeded in being with some­one that makes me happy. Now, what should I do to be that some­one that makes me happy? 

I guess it starts with fig­ur­ing out what makes me unhappy and mak­ing a change from there. 

More Than a Woman?

Tired. That’s how I’ve felt this past week­end. I think the 10-​​hour days are catch­ing up with me and I’m not look­ing for­ward to Mon­day when it will start all over again.

I think it’s time to take some time off. Maybe a sched­uled men­tal health day to regroup myself. On a Mon­day. Or a Fri­day. So I can extend my week­end by an extra day.

Oh, who am I kid­ding? I’m still going to spend the day before return­ing to work wor­ry­ing about what I need to do the day I actu­ally return to work. 

I worry too much. Not a sur­prise for peo­ple that know me very well. To oth­ers though, espe­cially at work, I guess I put off this vibe that every­thing is going to be okay. But inter­nally, I’m a ner­vous wreck.

Why is that?

Hubby seems to think I put too much pres­sure on myself, that I should learn to ease up on myself. That I should learn to break down projects into man­age­able tasks. And he’s right, the smart man that I married.

I do put a lot of pres­sure on myself to be as best that I can be. I guess it goes back to that thought that if I try hard enough, I’ll suc­ceed in any­thing I do.

And we all know that Infer­til­ity taught me that that state­ment is not always rel­e­vant to everything. 

So why am I still liv­ing my life like that? I guess I do it in the hopes of being a bet­ter per­son than would be if I had kids. That some­how, I need to make up for being more of a woman because I don’t have kids. 

Does that sound ridiculous? 

I know it does. There are lots of women liv­ing child-​​free by choice that can attest to this. Heck, there are women that have gone through infer­til­ity and are now liv­ing child-​​free that can say that they still feel like a whole woman. 

Right now, I’m not one of those women. Which is why I worry too much. And expect more out of myself. And I wish there was a way that I could just be happy with who I am. 

 

Failure = Success?

I’ve been think­ing a lot about the post I wrote last week and how fail­ure has shaped my life over the past decade or so. Then my Hubby sent this arti­cle to me that talks about how fail­ure can actu­ally turn into success.

I’m not sure how I feel about the arti­cle. I mean, I get what the mes­sage is; that in order to suc­ceed you have to allow fail­ure into your life. That we can learn from our failures. 

So what have I learned from my fail­ures? Los­ing a job taught me that noth­ing in life is ever “sta­ble.” Mov­ing back to Detroit from Chicago after my Dad passed away taught me that guilt is a strong enough moti­va­tor. Infer­til­ity taught me that not every­thing that you give 100% into will result in success.

Not nec­es­sar­ily happy things, right? Truth is, fail­ure has taught me to be more wary of peo­ple, of sit­u­a­tions. The once con­fi­dent woman that I was in my twen­ties, has mor­phed into a 40-​​year old woman with more self-​​esteem issues than a teenager. 

What I need to do, as Hubby keeps telling me, is real­ize that I should let go of these fail­ures and move on. And I need to real­ize that every­thing I do won’t nec­es­sar­ily fail; that even lit­tle things in life (and work) can be a success. 

I need to believe in myself.

Dark Spaces and Other Things

I went to a dark space this past week. I went back to the land of long­ing for a child of my own.

That’s a place, while always in the back of my mind, that I haven’t been to in a long time.

It started when I found out that a newer co-​​worker of mine had triplets. So nat­u­rally I asked if this was a sur­prise to her when she found out she was hav­ing triplets. That’s when I found out that she and her hus­band had done IVF and had suc­ceeded with preg­nancy after their sec­ond try; a frozen cycle from the remain­ing embryos from her first try.

D*mn it. I was jealous.

So jeal­ous that I thought of our one failed IVF cycle and the failed abil­ity to even have tried a frozen cycle. Which then had me think­ing that if we did suc­ceed with our cycle, our child/​children would be 9 years old.

Nine. Years. Old. What a dif­fer­ent per­son I might have become if we were successful.

Maybe I wouldn’t be such a sad per­son inside. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so anx­ious all the time. Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of fail­ure like I am about every­thing in my life.

I know. I’m real­is­tic enough to know I could still be the same per­son I am today, with or with­out kids. How­ever, I do know that my fear of fail­ure stems from the belief that I grew up with: If you try hard at any­thing, you will succeed.

Except as hard as Hubby & I tried to con­ceive, we did not succeed.

Fail­ing at try­ing to pro­cre­ate was the first time I ever had to ques­tion that belief. The cor­re­spond­ing dark­ness that fol­lowed our failed IVF only allowed me more time to ques­tion whether any­thing I do would only result in failure.

So the dark place I was at this week? It all boiled down to my fear of fail­ure in EVERYTHING I do. From feel­ing like I’m a fail­ure at work, to feel­ing like I’m a fail­ure in my per­sonal life.

I’m still a lit­tle frag­ile from this past week … prob­a­bly will be for a while, if I’m being hon­est with myself … but I’m try­ing to be bet­ter. Try­ing to real­ize that some­times fail­ures can be oppor­tu­ni­ties for improve­ment. And try­ing to remem­ber that mis­takes are really just mis-​​takes

I Want My Mommy

Ear­lier this week Hubby & I woke up at an ungodly hour. My mom was fly­ing out to the Philip­pines and needed a ride to the air­port. It being an inter­na­tional flight, she needed to be at the air­port at least 3 hours before take-​​off.

Her flight was at 7:00 am.

Need­less to say, Hubby & I got lit­tle sleep the night before.

With Hubby stay­ing curb­side, I was able to help check my Mom in at the air­port and say a proper good-​​bye before she headed into the secu­rity line.

What she said to me in those moments have stuck with me this past week and have made me real­ize that, as much as I think I’m okay, I’m still not quite okay.

On the way home from the air­port, I cried. Cried, because I was already miss­ing my Mom who would be gone for six whole weeks. Cried, because I knew that it was time to make another appoint­ment … one I haven’t had in about six months now.

Cried, because as much of an adult I (sup­pos­edly) am, there are still some days that I just want to be a child again and want Mom to tell me that every­thing is going to be alright.

Things will be alright, I know. Even though they’re not right now. I know this because I have the love and sup­port of a won­der­ful hus­band and … even though we don’t get along all the time … my mom.

I miss you, Mom. Hope you’re hav­ing a blast in the Philippines.

Out of Practice

I am really hav­ing a hard time keep­ing up with this res­o­lu­tion to write more. I think it’s because I don’t have any­thing to really “talk” about lately.

I could talk about work, since that’s pretty much what my life revolves around lately. Except I really don’t like to dis­cuss work-​​related issues on here for fear that it might be found by a co-​​worker or a poten­tial employer who might not like what I have to say about my cur­rent employer. So talk­ing about work is a no-​​no, for me these days.

I could talk about what we did last week­end, but I fear that you may find it bor­ing and mun­dane. (Met up with a friend for din­ner on Sat­ur­day. Saw Les Mis on Sunday.)

I think part of this writ­ing funk is a result of a cou­ple things: 1) I’m sorely out of prac­tice, and 2) I’m just not exposed to a whole lot of hap­pen­ings around the world. Or at least I haven’t been in touch with the news lately.

Oh, I know about major events like the New­town shoot­ings. And Oscar nom­i­na­tions. And the big giant squid caught on video in the north­ern Pacific ocean. But to expand on how I feel about these things brings it back to how out of prac­tice I am in writing.

I’m still hope­ful that this exer­cise of writ­ing at least once a week will get me back into the swing of things. But then I seri­ously gotta think of top­ics to write about.

But for now, all I got is a post full of noth­ing. Kinda like a Sein­feld episode, except not as funny.

Let’s hope next week is better …

End of the Year Wrap-​​up

Well, I must admit I haven’t done my best in writ­ing on this blog for 2012. Hope­fully that will change in the upcom­ing year.

Yes­ter­day, Hubby & I met up for a late night din­ner with one of our good friends. All of us talked about how 2013 was around the cor­ner and how 2012 seemed to fly on by. There was so many things that we all wanted to do more of, but just didn’t have the time. For Hubby & our friend, it was draw­ing more. For me, it was writ­ing more. So then and there, we made our New Year’s res­o­lu­tion to do the things we wanted to do more of. This, of course, is my lame attempt at try­ing to write again.

I guess I could start off by telling you what has hap­pened in the last year.

In May, I started a new job that has me grounded in Detroit. No more trav­el­ing, no more work­ing at home. While I some­times miss the trav­el­ing part and the “work in my pajamas”-part, I know that being based in an office-​​setting is much bet­ter for my men­tal health. I real­ized I needed the con­stant con­nec­tion with co-​​workers that you just don’t get when being an inde­pen­dent worker as I was in the pre­vi­ous posi­tion. At least I can say that I tried the “con­sul­tant” role and it just wasn’t for me … at least at this time in my life.

This new job is a chal­leng­ing one. I’m back in a lead­er­ship role, this time as a man­ager of over 4 dif­fer­ent areas. There are days that I feel that I’ve got my role down pat. Then there are the days where I feel I’ve lost my grip on real­ity. It’s at those times that I turn to Hubby to help ground me and keep me from fly­ing off the deep end. He’s good to me like that.

In July, I turned 40 years old. As expected, noth­ing really changed overnight, except now I’m more acutely aware that I’m just not as spry as I used to be. My SIL (whose birth­day is 4 days before mine) and I did cel­e­brate our 40th by throw­ing our­selves a pic­nic. Lot’s of fam­ily and friends showed up, so it was a great time full of laugh­ter and fun.

At the end of Octo­ber, I trav­eled to New York to be a part of my cousin’s “Hal­loweek­end” wed­ding. She had some pretty cool details that made the wed­ding goth-​​like. It also helped that the wed­ding wasn’t that far from the town of Sleepy Hol­low! The high­light of the wed­ding for me was being able to spend time with my Mom’s side of the fam­ily. That, and spend­ing time with my niece, Emilia, whose whole fam­ily made it to the wed­ding so that “Mia” could be a flower girl.

Get­ting out of New York actu­ally proved to be quite excit­ing as well. Super­storm Sandy threat­ened to ruin the bride’s day, but it held off until the next night. How­ever, that did cause a lot of flight can­cel­la­tions, includ­ing ours. This meant we had to drive all the way back to Detroit in a rental car in order to make it to work the next day. Luck­ily, Delta refunded us our return trip, so we didn’t lose out on too much.

The rest of the year went by pretty fast; Thanks­giv­ing, Dad’s anniver­sary, Christ­mas. Mom spent Christ­mas out in Dal­las with Dr. Bro, Dr. SIL and Mia (jeal­ous!). The week­end before Christ­mas, Bobby & I got to spend time with Dad’s side of the fam­ily, espe­cially one of my cousins and her fam­ily from Lon­don, Ontario. It was a fun Sat­ur­day night full of play­ing with the kids, poker and beer pong with our Uncle.

Yes, you read that right. Beer pong with our Uncle. All I have to say is that, even though the girls lost against the guys … that was prob­a­bly the most fun I’ve had in a long time! (But, boy did I pay for it the next day … )

And now it’s almost New Year’s Day. I can’t believe the year has gone by so quickly. As I said, my New Year’s res­o­lu­tion is to write more, and I’m hop­ing that the week­ends give me enough time to write what I want to write. And not sound as lame as I do right now. Prac­tice makes per­fect, right?

Missing Dad

It’s been a busy week, oth­er­wise I would have writ­ten much sooner. Espe­cially since the 2nd anniver­sary of my Dad’s pass­ing was this past Monday.

I would have thought that going through the first year anniver­sary would have made this year a lit­tle more bear­able, but it turns out I was wrong. It was just as hard to get through the day this year as it was last year. What made it worse was that I had to work, which made con­cen­trat­ing on things a lit­tle dif­fi­cult. (Reminder to self: Take next year’s anniver­sary off.)

I still miss my Dad. Every sin­gle day. But bring an anniver­sary into the mix and it makes it more emo­tional. I wish I could still hear his voice, his laugh­ter. I wish I could still get those silly voice mails he used to leave on my phone. I wish I could talk sports with him and com­mis­er­ate with him about the NHL lock­out. I wish we could talk about the new James Bond movie and whether he liked it or not. I just wish he was still here with us.

But alas, he’s not. He’s up above watch­ing us all and hope­fully pro­tect­ing us. And maybe — just maybe — he’s vis­it­ing his grand-​​daughter in Texas and mak­ing here laugh and smile as only my Dad could do.

I love you, Dad. And I miss you ever so much.

Thirty Days of Thanks, Day Twenty

Spent part of my day out­side today. That is, after spend­ing most of it indoors at work. But at least I got to leave in the early afternoon.

My Mom and I went to place a grave blan­ket on my Dad’s grave this after­noon. We bought a bare blan­ket and spent some time dec­o­rat­ing it with rib­bons and bows. This is the first time we decided to dec­o­rate it our­selves and we actu­ally had a fun time doing it. We did a fine job, if I do say so myself!

After­wards, we went out for an early din­ner and had some nice con­ver­sa­tion. Over­all, it was a great afternoon.

*******

So I’m think­ing that Mom & I should make it an annual thing … some­thing we can do together. Because there’s not much we do together.

It’s not that we don’t get along … it’s just that we don’t share a lot of the same inter­ests or find a lot of things in common.

I wish we could … find things more in com­mon. Which is strange to say, since she is my mother. We should have tons of things in com­mon. But we don’t.

It’s one of those things that I shouldn’t do … but I blame part of it on the fact that I don’t have children.

(Yes, I’m bring­ing out the “Infer­til­ity Card.”)

We’ve never really had much in com­mon, even grow­ing up. But I always thought that once I had a baby, I’d be able to turn to my Mom for some “I don’t know what the h*ll I’m doing”-bonding.

And even if we didn’t always see eye to eye, I would put our dif­fer­ences aside if my kids wanted to spend time with their “Lola.”

But since the kids/​grandkids thing isn’t going to hap­pen, I want to find some way to bond with my Mom; to con­nect with her.

So maybe it won’t be bond­ing over what lat­est funny thing “Johnny” just did. Maybe it’ll have to be bond­ing over what we’ve lost together … her, a hus­band; me, a dad.

What am I grate­ful for today? The time spent with Mom, bond­ing over my Dad.

Forty

I’m turn­ing 40 tomorrow.

Yep, it’s a mile­stone birth­day; one that makes you pon­der what I’ve done for the past decade. And while I might not have done every­thing I thought I would in the past 10 years (you know get preg­nant and start our fam­ily and all …), I know that I’ve done enough to make my 30’s a mem­o­rable decade.

Turn­ing 40 seems like I should be turn­ing over a new leaf. I should eat bet­ter, exer­cise more, be more finan­cially respon­si­ble. It’s like New Year’s Res­o­lu­tions, except in July. And I don’t know about you … but I tend to fall off the “Res­o­lu­tions wagon” mid­way into the sec­ond month.

At least I get a whole decade to turn over this leaf.

Seri­ously though, I hope that my 40’s is a lot less drama and a lot more fun. I hope that Hubby and I con­tinue to find new and excit­ing ways to live our child-​​free lives fully and not in the shadow of liv­ing child­less. (I see travel in our near future!) So that’ll be what I aim for over the next 10 years.

Here’s to jump­ing feet first into my 40’s!

 

Other Related Strings

Archives