Intellectually, I know that dreams are manifestations of all kinds - problems we're trying to resolve, fears we carry within, guilt we're trying to manage, etc. But disturbing dreams involving your own child in a variety of ways really cause one to take pause. A few weeks ago I had two relatively disturbing dreams about Beckett - and then another just last week. The pieces of each dream were part of larger situations - longer dreamscapes - I woke with that feeling that my brain had really been on a journey but all I could remember was the one disturbing element from each of the 3 dreams. In the first dream, I was out with a group of people, various people not at all really related to each other, and Beckett was with me - and we were all about to go to a baseball game - and Beckett had been kind of whining but nothing major. And all I remember is that I suddenly slapped her little face - a stinging slap - which is something that I actually WOULD NEVER DO - I do not want to make this entry about "to hit or not to hit" - let me just say that hands down (or hands off) we unequivocally DO NOT believe in hitting in any way - so when I say that slapping Beckett is something I would never do - I mean it. But there were several things that were so strange about this dream - first, she didn't really do anything wrong - I remember that within the dream she was expressing wanting to do something once we go into the baseball game - and then I all of the sudden slapped her - and she looked right in my eyes with her big brown ones and said very simply "Mama, don't HIT me." And I recall feeling this sense of slow remorse - not immediate - as if I was first thinking I was justified - which was a very bizarre realization - especially because at this moment within the dream, I realized I was in a dream - so my brain was starting to "wake up" as well as process what had just happened in the dream - and maybe why. Then, still in the dream, I did tell Beckett I was sorry and that I wouldn't do that again. But the sensation of slapping her - the way you see frustrated mothers slap teenagers in movies - lingers in my mind and I remain disturbed - I look at her beautiful soft cheeks every day and I never feel any desire to harm them - never - and believe me, Beckett can try one's patience just like any other 2 year old but nothing warrants, nor will anything ever warrant, an action that inflicts pain - it's just not how I am made. But, all that being said, I wish I could figure out what my brain is trying to process and why it needed to have me direct anger and frustration toward my beloved and innocent Beckett!
The next night I had another troubling dream - only this time it seemed connected to the car accident we were in a few weeks ago. In this dream, Beckett and I were in a car with a small group of people - again, people I know but not related in any way to each other - a woman was driving the car and Chuck was not with us - Beckett was in her car seat and I was in the back seat with her - there were 2 other people in the car including the woman driving (in the dream, the various people were friends of mine but I cannot recall who they were really - but it was one of those where you know you're supposed to know the people in the dream) - we were in a city with dark and windy streets - and we were turning left around a fairly blind curve - and we were hit semi head-on as we were turning (this is similar to how Beckett and I were hit by the motorcycle in real life) - only the car actually hit the front left side - and sent the vehicle we were in into a spin - strange but true. I remember the sensation of spinning slowly but also knowing we were OK - and Beckett was surprisingly calm - I recall telling her "It's all OK Beckett - it's going to be OK" (which is what I said over and over after the motorcycle hit us for real). The woman driving was unconscious but only for a few seconds - she kind of came to and took control of the car - it was still drivable - and it seemed that we were just going to continue driving - and then I woke up. So in this dream, I am caring for Beckett and reassuring her in a situation where I am not in control. That seems very obviously connected with the accident we were in a few weeks ago - but if you have ever read about dreams, then you know that the meaning is very rarely obvious.
Finally, about a week ago, I had a dream that I was in a football stadium with Beckett and a huge number of people - and the stairwells were built so that there was space between the stairs - like where a little person could slip between them to the next set of stairs down below. In this one segment of the dream, Beckett and I were ahead of a large crowd and were trying to get down the stairs before this huge wave of people overtook us - but we were going too slow and it felt like a stampede of people was upon us - and then I lost hold of Beckett's hand and immediately started yelling for her and yelling at the people to stop because my baby was under them - and then I heard Beckett say "I'm down here, Mama" and she had slipped between the steps onto the set below - in this dream, I could fit so I did the same and caught her hand again - and then I woke up. In reality, slipping between the stairs and jumping below probably would have resulted in some sort of injury for a 2 year old but in this dream she was more than fine - in fact, I recall thinking that she had acquired an instinct to protect herself, and I felt this strange sense of relief. Maybe that dream was about Beckett getting to some "next level" in the development of her very being - although the level was in the opposite direction - but it's a meaning worth considering.
So what's the point? Well, first, maybe there isn't one this time - except to speak to the fact that we have all had these strange dreams, strange and disturbing random thoughts, irrational fears - all related to the simultaneous feelings we carry around of being both empowered to care for our beloved children yet vulnerable and afraid of the very worst happening to our children - and maybe the darkness within the mind exists in order to prepare us to prevent the worst from happening to our babies - as if maybe imagining it will allow you to prevent it. Of course, the events in 2 of those dreams are within my control - I will not slap my beautiful baby girl - I just simply will not - and if we're ever in a stadium with lots of crazy people and stairs with gaps, then I will just carry her even if she wants to walk, at least while she's a wee one!
These weren't the first and they won't be the last - I'm positive my brain functions in this way ultimately to enable me to protect and prevent - but I sometimes wish that the meanings were clearer - and the happy ending arrived before I woke up!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Things We Do That Make Our Kids Proud (of Us)
On September 25th, I did something I haven't done for a long time - I ran a 5K here in Erie. It was an awesome event put on by the Erie Philharmonic. The event was called "Beat Beethoven" and you ran to the first movement of Beethoven's 5th - for those of you who are not Beethoven lovers like me, it's the all too famous one "DUN, DUN, dun, Duuuuuuuun, DUN, DUN, dun, Duuuuuuun..."(I hope that's sufficient). It was great - the race started at the Warner Theater and our local PBS radio station, WQLN, was involved and broadcast the music - the first movement of the 5th lasts about 30 minutes and 17 seconds, so the idea is to run the 5k before 30:17, therefore beating Beethoven. And various volunteers parked their cars along the route and blasted Beethoven from their car radios throughout the entire course. I love Beethoven deeply (yes, I do) and decided to do the race - I have also been running about a 9:30 pace regularly now, so I figured I had a real chance. I'll end the suspense, as that's really not what this post is about; I did it - I beat Beethoven - finished at about 29:20 or something like that - my pace was about 9:15 - remember, a 5K is 3.2 miles.
So what does this have to do with making Beckett proud of me, or doing something that I think she'll be proud of? (And, for the record, I do not expect her to have this sense of pride about me at the ripe old age of 2 yrs, 4 months - it's more about things I do now and as part of my life that she witnesses while growing up that I hope will make her proud of me - but, still, I digress.) I had arrived fairly early and had about 30 minutes to spare - so I ran about a mile and half as a warm up. When I came back to the Warner Theater, it was about 10 minutes to start time. There were a lot more people milling about in support of their runners, and there were particularly a lot of men with toddler-aged children - children I recognized from the various playgrounds we frequent! And it struck me that I really wanted to see Chuck and Beckett there. Sadly, I suddenly felt lonely - not just for Chuck and Beckett but for my parents, or my aunt Rachel - people who may have been running this race with me had I been doing it in Houston. The emotions really threw me off because I chose to do this run for ME - or so I thought - and all of the sudden doing it for me was not enough. I very suddenly had the need for someone to be proud of me - and this was really distressing for me because I pride myself on being able to, well, take pride in MYSELF for MYSELF. I have been preaching this to my mother for the past 3 years she has suffered through a traumatic divorce from my father. So I was simply taken aback at my own apparent need for someone, other than me, to be proud of me.
So I took a place in the crowd and prepared to start my run - it was exciting because you knew what was coming - that music was in all of our minds as we waited through the thanks yous to the sponsors and other announcements - and then it started and we propelled ourselves forward, somehow easily in step with this magnificent music that starts with full force.
After about half a mile into the race, I passed the Beethoven pace-setter, a young man replete with Beethoven wig and conductor's cape (yet in running garb - wonder how he would have done in period attire) and made sure that I got well ahead of him - and I maintained that pace. I was loping along, thinking about all kinds of things, and realized that I was definitely going to do it - going to Beat Beethoven (the pace-setting Beethoven was waaaaayyyyy behind me and I felt great at my 9:10 pace), and the thought randomly entered my head "Beckett will be really proud of me." It was a surprising thought for a lot of reasons - first, why do I need Beckett to be proud of me, and why do I need to burden her with that pressure, second, she's two and cannot fully understand the concept of pride and three, LAUREL, what the hell is wrong with you - you are doing this for yourself, for fun, it's not like you're even a runner who runs in races to win, in general!! I'm having these thoughts as I'm getting closer and closer to the finish - and I can't say that they ever really reconciled - but I knew that at the end of my race, I wanted to see Beckett and Chuck there, cheering me on, and I wanted both of them to be proud of me.
Well, they weren't there (they were, however, on the way - there had been an incident with poop and the need for a bath, which delayed departure...) - and I was bummed - but I realized I was bummed for only one reason - I'm lonely here in Erie - I'm lonely for my support system, family and friends that would have been there had this been happening in Houston or Denver. And with Chuck and Beckett NOT yet there, I felt a strange sense of being alone. And I also realized that that's OK - that even if I didn't have Chuck and Beckett, or any of my other loved ones spread all over the country, I would still have run this race and still beat Beethoven and that the only pride about my performance needs to come from me - period.
Now, there is logic and there is emotion; logic drives what I just said about your own sense of pride being enough to motivate you. Emotion drives the concept that you want your kids, or others, to be proud of you - I think I want Beckett to be proud of me because of a number of reasons - for 1, I'm proud of her and maybe there is a natural need for reciprocity among humans, or 2, mutual pride will continue to connect us and aid our intimacy even when things get challenging in later years, or 3, I selfishly want her to be like me and I want her to be interested in the things I do, and hopefully choose to do them too - and being proud of some of the things I do may encourage her to do them as well - with me - see, there it is - it's a long-winded way to keep her with me for as long as I can.
This weekend, on 10-09, I ran in another 5K - the Her Times 5K put on by the Erie Times-News and our publication called Her Times. It was a beautiful day at Presque Isle - high 50s at the 9am start - I left early again and got down there in time to run another 1.5 miles pre-race. This time, though, Chuck and Beckett were already on the way and I knew they would be there at the end of the race. I was chugging along at a slower pace this time, but still finished under a 10 minute mile - in fact I finished 111 out of 525 racers - not bad! As I ended the race and came through the chute, there were Chuck and Beckett - Chuck was trying to get a couple of pictures of me and Beckett was BEAMING - I know she didn't totally understand what I was doing but she had a big smile on her face - and to me, well, it felt like pride.
PS - There are also a series of kid's races as part of the Her Times event - and Beckett ran in her first race! Actually she ran in two races due to my error - one was a 1/4 mile and one was 1/8 - we have video and it's precious. But here's the thing - I asked her if she wanted to do it and she said yes - she kind of knows what racing is because of how she and some of her friends play at school. Saturday morning, Chuck got her number on her back - and she watched the first 2 kids races with interest. Then we lined her up and took off with the other kids - and I think she really liked it - and she got a gift bag and a medal (she loves gift bags). But the point is that she seemed to like doing something that I have shared with her since she was born - running - and maybe all the running she has done with me will become something she wants to do for herself, and maybe something that she wants to do with me for years to come - just maybe.
So what does this have to do with making Beckett proud of me, or doing something that I think she'll be proud of? (And, for the record, I do not expect her to have this sense of pride about me at the ripe old age of 2 yrs, 4 months - it's more about things I do now and as part of my life that she witnesses while growing up that I hope will make her proud of me - but, still, I digress.) I had arrived fairly early and had about 30 minutes to spare - so I ran about a mile and half as a warm up. When I came back to the Warner Theater, it was about 10 minutes to start time. There were a lot more people milling about in support of their runners, and there were particularly a lot of men with toddler-aged children - children I recognized from the various playgrounds we frequent! And it struck me that I really wanted to see Chuck and Beckett there. Sadly, I suddenly felt lonely - not just for Chuck and Beckett but for my parents, or my aunt Rachel - people who may have been running this race with me had I been doing it in Houston. The emotions really threw me off because I chose to do this run for ME - or so I thought - and all of the sudden doing it for me was not enough. I very suddenly had the need for someone to be proud of me - and this was really distressing for me because I pride myself on being able to, well, take pride in MYSELF for MYSELF. I have been preaching this to my mother for the past 3 years she has suffered through a traumatic divorce from my father. So I was simply taken aback at my own apparent need for someone, other than me, to be proud of me.
So I took a place in the crowd and prepared to start my run - it was exciting because you knew what was coming - that music was in all of our minds as we waited through the thanks yous to the sponsors and other announcements - and then it started and we propelled ourselves forward, somehow easily in step with this magnificent music that starts with full force.
After about half a mile into the race, I passed the Beethoven pace-setter, a young man replete with Beethoven wig and conductor's cape (yet in running garb - wonder how he would have done in period attire) and made sure that I got well ahead of him - and I maintained that pace. I was loping along, thinking about all kinds of things, and realized that I was definitely going to do it - going to Beat Beethoven (the pace-setting Beethoven was waaaaayyyyy behind me and I felt great at my 9:10 pace), and the thought randomly entered my head "Beckett will be really proud of me." It was a surprising thought for a lot of reasons - first, why do I need Beckett to be proud of me, and why do I need to burden her with that pressure, second, she's two and cannot fully understand the concept of pride and three, LAUREL, what the hell is wrong with you - you are doing this for yourself, for fun, it's not like you're even a runner who runs in races to win, in general!! I'm having these thoughts as I'm getting closer and closer to the finish - and I can't say that they ever really reconciled - but I knew that at the end of my race, I wanted to see Beckett and Chuck there, cheering me on, and I wanted both of them to be proud of me.
Well, they weren't there (they were, however, on the way - there had been an incident with poop and the need for a bath, which delayed departure...) - and I was bummed - but I realized I was bummed for only one reason - I'm lonely here in Erie - I'm lonely for my support system, family and friends that would have been there had this been happening in Houston or Denver. And with Chuck and Beckett NOT yet there, I felt a strange sense of being alone. And I also realized that that's OK - that even if I didn't have Chuck and Beckett, or any of my other loved ones spread all over the country, I would still have run this race and still beat Beethoven and that the only pride about my performance needs to come from me - period.
Now, there is logic and there is emotion; logic drives what I just said about your own sense of pride being enough to motivate you. Emotion drives the concept that you want your kids, or others, to be proud of you - I think I want Beckett to be proud of me because of a number of reasons - for 1, I'm proud of her and maybe there is a natural need for reciprocity among humans, or 2, mutual pride will continue to connect us and aid our intimacy even when things get challenging in later years, or 3, I selfishly want her to be like me and I want her to be interested in the things I do, and hopefully choose to do them too - and being proud of some of the things I do may encourage her to do them as well - with me - see, there it is - it's a long-winded way to keep her with me for as long as I can.
This weekend, on 10-09, I ran in another 5K - the Her Times 5K put on by the Erie Times-News and our publication called Her Times. It was a beautiful day at Presque Isle - high 50s at the 9am start - I left early again and got down there in time to run another 1.5 miles pre-race. This time, though, Chuck and Beckett were already on the way and I knew they would be there at the end of the race. I was chugging along at a slower pace this time, but still finished under a 10 minute mile - in fact I finished 111 out of 525 racers - not bad! As I ended the race and came through the chute, there were Chuck and Beckett - Chuck was trying to get a couple of pictures of me and Beckett was BEAMING - I know she didn't totally understand what I was doing but she had a big smile on her face - and to me, well, it felt like pride.
PS - There are also a series of kid's races as part of the Her Times event - and Beckett ran in her first race! Actually she ran in two races due to my error - one was a 1/4 mile and one was 1/8 - we have video and it's precious. But here's the thing - I asked her if she wanted to do it and she said yes - she kind of knows what racing is because of how she and some of her friends play at school. Saturday morning, Chuck got her number on her back - and she watched the first 2 kids races with interest. Then we lined her up and took off with the other kids - and I think she really liked it - and she got a gift bag and a medal (she loves gift bags). But the point is that she seemed to like doing something that I have shared with her since she was born - running - and maybe all the running she has done with me will become something she wants to do for herself, and maybe something that she wants to do with me for years to come - just maybe.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Independence - Beckett is sooo her Mother's Child
Today I made a "wost parent ever" move - although it was an accident. Let me explain (because many of you will say "that's nothing") - I had just gotten out of the shower and Beckett bursts through the bathroom door, fully dressed (when I got in the shower 13 minutes earlier, she was still downstairs with Chuck and clad only in a pull-up) - when I saw her fully dressed, I assumed that Chuck had helped her get dressed - she said "Mama, I'm ready to go" and I said "I see that Beckett but (and here is the worst parent move) I think you have your shirt on backwards." Beckett is 2 years and 4 months old and already knows how to dress herself - for the most part. Usually she gets dressed with one of us with her, helping get the shirt over her head and pants pulled completely over the booty - but today - she had fully dressed herself on her own - and she was coming into the bathroom beaming with pride at her accomplishment (which I didn't realize until a few minutes later) and what did I do? Pointed out the one thing that she had done wrong! I am such an ass!!
As I was pointing out that her shirt was on backwards, I knelt down and showed her that the words were in the front (she knows that tags or words go in the back) - while I was showing her this, I realized that she had probably dressed herself without Chuck's help -so I asked her if this was the case and she forgot about my criticism and said "yes, Mama, I did it ALL BY MYSELF!" So I looked her right in the eyes and told her that she did an excellent job and we didn't need to turn her shirt around - and her big, beaming smile came back - and she started telling me all about the steps she took to dress herself - which comes from watching Special Agent Oso, who does everything in 3 or 4 o5 "special steps."
After I finished getting dressed, we went downstairs to leave the house with Chuck - and he confirmed that he had not helped her - he had told her to go get dressed but expected that I would intercept and help her once I got out of the shower. We were both kind of astounded - this is the first time that she has gone up to her room, picked clothes out of her drawers on her own, and put them on her body without some help. It may seem like a little thing but it's big to us.
And then this afternoon, she once again asserted herself - and gave us all a great giggle. We had eaten a late lunch and watched some of the Broncos game at Smokey Bones, a chain BBQ restaurant. After we were in in the car, she was kind of jacking around with her car seat belt and not getting it buckled - I have taken a new tact in the past couple of months to get her to do things - I tell her that I'm going to count to three and if I get to three, then I'm going to do whatever it is for her - this, for Beckett, is a fate far worse than timeout or the withholding of a treat - there is nothing that makes her more angry then someone taking away her independence in completing a task. So, since she was not getting her seat belt on so we could go, I said "one" and she started kind of giggling and said "If I get to free then I'm going to do it ALL BY MYSELF...one, two, free! I do it myself!" Chuck and I were laughing our asses off - and so was she - but she also started to hurriedly snap all her buckles together and got it done fast! I think counting to three will still work but I couldn't believe she had cleverly used it against me, in a way. That Beckett - she is soooooo her mother's child.
As I was pointing out that her shirt was on backwards, I knelt down and showed her that the words were in the front (she knows that tags or words go in the back) - while I was showing her this, I realized that she had probably dressed herself without Chuck's help -so I asked her if this was the case and she forgot about my criticism and said "yes, Mama, I did it ALL BY MYSELF!" So I looked her right in the eyes and told her that she did an excellent job and we didn't need to turn her shirt around - and her big, beaming smile came back - and she started telling me all about the steps she took to dress herself - which comes from watching Special Agent Oso, who does everything in 3 or 4 o5 "special steps."
After I finished getting dressed, we went downstairs to leave the house with Chuck - and he confirmed that he had not helped her - he had told her to go get dressed but expected that I would intercept and help her once I got out of the shower. We were both kind of astounded - this is the first time that she has gone up to her room, picked clothes out of her drawers on her own, and put them on her body without some help. It may seem like a little thing but it's big to us.
And then this afternoon, she once again asserted herself - and gave us all a great giggle. We had eaten a late lunch and watched some of the Broncos game at Smokey Bones, a chain BBQ restaurant. After we were in in the car, she was kind of jacking around with her car seat belt and not getting it buckled - I have taken a new tact in the past couple of months to get her to do things - I tell her that I'm going to count to three and if I get to three, then I'm going to do whatever it is for her - this, for Beckett, is a fate far worse than timeout or the withholding of a treat - there is nothing that makes her more angry then someone taking away her independence in completing a task. So, since she was not getting her seat belt on so we could go, I said "one" and she started kind of giggling and said "If I get to free then I'm going to do it ALL BY MYSELF...one, two, free! I do it myself!" Chuck and I were laughing our asses off - and so was she - but she also started to hurriedly snap all her buckles together and got it done fast! I think counting to three will still work but I couldn't believe she had cleverly used it against me, in a way. That Beckett - she is soooooo her mother's child.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
And Now the Reality About Working
In my last post, I referenced the emotional challenges of being a working parent. Of course there are much more than emotional challenges - how about the challenges faced daily in just trying to get yourself and the girl out the door - and get to work on time (ha, what's "on time" again?) But for now I'd like to talk about the emotional pull between working and staying home.
Those of us who do indeed have to work like to believe that we also enjoy the work we do - and many of us probably would like to believe that work is contributing to the greater good of society, benefiting the world in some way, etc. I have encountered some people who are able to do good work and not worry about whether or not it's contributing to the greater good - and they do their work while at work and go home and are present at home. Those people seem to be able to look at the facts of their lives and take it at face value: in essence, they have to work to pay for life and they don't spend a bunch of time worrying about the hours of the day they don't get to spend with their kids, rather they focus on the hours of the day that they DO get to spend with their kids. I so admire those people - and I have tried to take that approach when dealing with my emotional turmoil over missing time with Beckett - and let's just say that some days are better than others.
My work in the newspaper industry is uniquely challenging, which has inherent frustrations and inherent rewards. I wouldn't necessarily use the term "enjoy" when describing how I feel about the daily work I do, but I do find it interesting, challenging (in the good way), stimulating due to constant problem-solving, rewarding and very rarely boring. In fact, the 12 years I have been involved with newspapers on the digital side have flown by - and I can count many, many successes as well as some healthy failures.
So when Beckett was only 8 weeks old, I had to go back to work and it was desperately hard. Partially because the hormone levels were still out of whack due to breast-feeding, and I was certainly still feeling those intense new mother feelings that make want to be with your baby 24/7. A few short weeks after that, I accepted a new job and we moved to Erie, PA, where I dived deep into a new, very challenging position and Chuck stayed home with Beckett. Work life was insane - so many issues that needed immediate repair - the days flew by and I was able to go home and be free of work while at home. Yet I struggled with the reality that the time I was away from Beckett each day was GONE - and I couldn't ever get it back. I would count up the hours away and the hours with and always try to make them equal so I wouldn't feel so guilty and sad about being away.
Over time, my hormones leveled out and my brain found a way to help me normalize - and be present in the time I am with her rather than obsessing about the time I am not getting with her. I think I have reconciled that I do have to work, and that I do enjoy working - and that's not changing any time soon. Yet, sometimes Monday mornings are harder lately. I'm sure it's because she has blossomed into this precious little talking person who smiles just about all the time - now I miss her in a different way than when she was an infant. And when she wakes up on Saturday morning and says "I stay here, with you and Daddy too!" because I told her it was Saturday and no one has to work - her happiness is as palpable as mine! Conversely, sometimes on Monday mornings I remind her that I have to go to work, and though she's happy that Erin and Lexi are coming to stay with her, she still says "I don't want you to go to wort, I want you to stay here" (she calls it wort - sounds like wart, kind of funny). So on those mornings, I resemble that remark but I just take a deep breath, give her a big hug and tell her I wish I could stay and that I'll miss her all day. It's the best I can do for now and that's the reality about working.
Those of us who do indeed have to work like to believe that we also enjoy the work we do - and many of us probably would like to believe that work is contributing to the greater good of society, benefiting the world in some way, etc. I have encountered some people who are able to do good work and not worry about whether or not it's contributing to the greater good - and they do their work while at work and go home and are present at home. Those people seem to be able to look at the facts of their lives and take it at face value: in essence, they have to work to pay for life and they don't spend a bunch of time worrying about the hours of the day they don't get to spend with their kids, rather they focus on the hours of the day that they DO get to spend with their kids. I so admire those people - and I have tried to take that approach when dealing with my emotional turmoil over missing time with Beckett - and let's just say that some days are better than others.
My work in the newspaper industry is uniquely challenging, which has inherent frustrations and inherent rewards. I wouldn't necessarily use the term "enjoy" when describing how I feel about the daily work I do, but I do find it interesting, challenging (in the good way), stimulating due to constant problem-solving, rewarding and very rarely boring. In fact, the 12 years I have been involved with newspapers on the digital side have flown by - and I can count many, many successes as well as some healthy failures.
So when Beckett was only 8 weeks old, I had to go back to work and it was desperately hard. Partially because the hormone levels were still out of whack due to breast-feeding, and I was certainly still feeling those intense new mother feelings that make want to be with your baby 24/7. A few short weeks after that, I accepted a new job and we moved to Erie, PA, where I dived deep into a new, very challenging position and Chuck stayed home with Beckett. Work life was insane - so many issues that needed immediate repair - the days flew by and I was able to go home and be free of work while at home. Yet I struggled with the reality that the time I was away from Beckett each day was GONE - and I couldn't ever get it back. I would count up the hours away and the hours with and always try to make them equal so I wouldn't feel so guilty and sad about being away.
Over time, my hormones leveled out and my brain found a way to help me normalize - and be present in the time I am with her rather than obsessing about the time I am not getting with her. I think I have reconciled that I do have to work, and that I do enjoy working - and that's not changing any time soon. Yet, sometimes Monday mornings are harder lately. I'm sure it's because she has blossomed into this precious little talking person who smiles just about all the time - now I miss her in a different way than when she was an infant. And when she wakes up on Saturday morning and says "I stay here, with you and Daddy too!" because I told her it was Saturday and no one has to work - her happiness is as palpable as mine! Conversely, sometimes on Monday mornings I remind her that I have to go to work, and though she's happy that Erin and Lexi are coming to stay with her, she still says "I don't want you to go to wort, I want you to stay here" (she calls it wort - sounds like wart, kind of funny). So on those mornings, I resemble that remark but I just take a deep breath, give her a big hug and tell her I wish I could stay and that I'll miss her all day. It's the best I can do for now and that's the reality about working.
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