Thanking my lucky stars for the 185th time

Today I caught myself doing something that I do often at work lately. I had been having lunch with a professor who I did some of my graduate work with, but who is a colleague of mine now (we both run civic engagement programs at the college- his has to do with public policy, mine with community engagement and service). We spent two hours talking about things we had been reading lately, we referred back to some of the things we had read together two years ago, we talked about linking those ideas to our programs and we talked about how to link our programs more closely to each other this year.

I got up from our long lunch and started across campus to my office. It was beautiful out and as I was walking, two of my students summoned me over to a bench they were sitting on in the quad. They had a few questions about the program that they are in and that I run. We sat in the sun and talked for a while about some ideas for this fall and about our upcoming retreat.

I got up from the bench and continued on my way back to my office, thinking to myself, "man, where has the time gone? I better get back to work".... And then I remembered that I was working. That I get paid to do things like talk to people, create relationships, and organize a program where students learn about themselves and at the same time provide resources to non profits in the community. That I like doing this so much that it often doesn't feel like work. I like it so much that I often forget that I am working altogether.

Hmmm. I decided today that I like that feeling, especially after reading about a dozen facebook posts about teachers returning to their classrooms today. I am not returning to my classroom this year. Instead I am thanking my lucky stars for approximately the 185th time that I left my classroom and ended up working in a job where I often am having so much fun that I forget that what I am doing is actually earning money.

The realities (a.k.a. tragedies) of bring little ones into the world (or trying to).

I couldn't help but think about the tragedies and triumphs that shape our lives today...This morning I was reading a blog that is kept up by a friend's husband. My friend had recently announced that she was pregnant, only to read that on Friday they found out that she was in the middle of miscarrying. I cannot begin to understand how that feels, but all day today my mind kept returning to my friend and her family. How do you get over something like that? How do you move past the deep sadness that something like that brings? Time strikes me as one of the only things that can help you heal an internal, emotional wound such as that.

Meanwhile another couple I know have been trying to get pregnant for over a year with their second. Their first pregnancy required little effort and now the second, long considered a 'when' and not an 'if' is not working. They are beginning to despair that they may not end up having a second with out a great amount of intervention by medical professionals. That has got to take some of the great happiness out of the triumph of pregnancy.

Tonight we hosted the mom and baby class  "reunion" at our house (the class I attended with other mom and babies this summer). Five of the seven moms, dads, and babies were here to enjoy a little bit of time together and to catch up since our last class a little over a month ago. As all five babies were laying together on the floor and the parents were snapping pictures, I couldn't help but think about how lucky we all are to have had babies who are very healthy and all have a great start at life. We were able to share stories of breastfeeding mishaps, nursing strikes, and back to work challenges all while not really having to worry in the large scheme about the well-being of our children.

Yet still, I am reminded by the tragedies that remain for some of the moms from class... although A has a very healthy little boy, she has vaginal nerve damage that after four months still has not gone away and that causes her a great deal of pain. Another of the moms had very serious complications with her uterus essentially detaching from her body after the birth, and now questions whether or not she will be able to have another baby.

Ultimately, this bringing a child into the world (or even attempting it) is not for the weak or faint-hearted. It is the closest that we humans get to playing God and yet we are still a far cry from being able to control what really happens or even understand the reasons for why things happen the way they do.

Lower the drinking age to 18, raise the marrying age to 25.

The blog post, The Children of Divorce, posted on Minnesota Public Radio's website previews an upcoming story on the "divorce boom" that occurred in the 70's in this country.

The post caught me totally off guard, but then immediately made sense to me... After all, I am the product of the "divorce boom", my parents divorced 30 years ago, exactly at the peak of all the divorces. I am anxious to listen to the hour-long documentary on Wednesday.

The blog post contains the following excerpt, discussing the impact of all of the divorces on the people most affected: the kids.

As a result, some of the children of divorce whose lives Wallerstein has followed (their average age at the latest interviews was 33) have grown up to be pathological commitment-phobes, expecting all relationships to end in disaster and pain. Others, going to the opposite extreme, have rushed into reckless, spur-of-the-moment, almost invariably doomed marriages in their late teens or early 20s, or selected clearly inadequate partners who are too weak and needy to leave. Even those who are happily married remain haunted by fear of abandonment and have trouble dealing with any disagreement or conflict. 

As I was reading this, I immediately recognized myself in some of this, as well as many of my closest friends who have also been affected by their parents divorcing. I will wait to comment more until I listen to the entire documentary, but one thing is for sure... I often forget that there is a reason I see things differently than many people that I spend time with. I grew up differently, I experienced divorce twice, and that has an impact that I often forget to take into account when wondering why I am just a little bit different in the way I relate to others.

Dear Lady-in-the-Grocery-Store-Line: A Public Letter

Dear Lady-in-the-Grocery-Store-Line,

While we stood behind you in the check out line, you raised no immediate red flags. You looked like you were functioning just fine in the 21st century. Looking back, maybe it should have been the enormous quantity of pre-packaged meals that should have tipped me off, maybe it was the slightly hair-brained expression on your face... Either way, though, I was not prepared for the fact that really, under the disguise of a modern woman with normal looking clothes that you were an old lady who lives with 84 cats, smells like it, and gets uppity when anyone suggests you move more quickly.

As you were checking out and packing your groceries, I thought nothing of it. That was, until the check-out woman told you your total. You slowly walked back to the pay station and JUST THEN seemed to start thinking about your method of payment ("Oh, I have to pay for these meals in a box? Who knew."). All the while I was at the end of the conveyor belt waiting for MY groceries. I watched you thinking, "there is no WAY she is going for her checkbook," but OH YOU WERE... As you start writing out the check, I could see that the early thirty-something brown hair was allowing the massive stock of gray hair underneath peek through. Then you decided to take it one step further... You set down your check book and browsed through your coupon book like you might have forgotten that one coupon you clipped 3 months ago that gives you twenty-five cents off your total grocery order of over one hundred dollars... All the while you did a fabulous job ignoring the eight people that have lined up behind you to also pay for their groceries.

When you finally resumed check writing you were so unconcerned about the AMOUNT OF TIME you were taking, it was quite remarkable. When you finished writing the check, ALL EIGHT OF US staring at you were waiting with baited breath for you to rip it out. But no, you had to first log it in the register in the very back of the checkbook. Finally, finally, finally, once that was done did you have the courage to rip out the check, your baby, your masterpiece and hand it over to the check-out lady (who had been rolling her eyes at you for the last  10 minutes while you wrote out your check).

Thank you, dear Lady-in-the-Grocery-Store-Line, because you blew my mind. In one simple decision over which line to pick, my life was changed forever. I LOST TEN MINUTES BUT GAINED A NEW APPRECIATION FOR THE SPEED AT WHICH MOST PEOPLE ARE ABLE TO PAY FOR THEIR GROCERIES and use something new... called a Credit Card. That one swipe sure is amazing, but it may take a while for it to catch on. Anyways, you also gave a good, long laugh because I have never, ever seen someone so oblivious in my entire life. Keep on a writin' those checks and checking those coupons, and don't forget to argue about some prices while your at it. We are all waiting until the next time we are in line behind you. Can't wait,

LOVE,
KLOU

Like No Place Else

Fond memories of the unique aspects of living in Madison, WI while I went to school; this article was fun to read. Although I didn't think it was necessarily well written, "Temporary Refugees live it up during annual Homeless Night" brought back memories of living on West Wash, watching all the old couches pile up on the street, and taking in all of the funny ways that students dealt with stowing their stuff for 24 hours in August.

What did I do during this time? I remember borrowing a part of a friend's garage who lived off campus, driving a truck load of stuff to campus on the 15th, and in other years getting lucky with early move in dates. It is fun how something like that becomes so ingrained in the culture of a place. Like so many other things: no where else but Madison would this happen...

What I have in store for me...

Last Sunday afternoon we were sitting in the park and I was leaning up against an old Oak tree feeding Benji with Jff looking on. Suddenly Jff says looking at the tree, "this tree is a perfect G.I. Joe tree." I didn't respond right away and he went on comtemplating silently. Finally, I admitted that I was puzzled (looking back more about where the comment came from than why it was a G.I. Joe tree... but anyways). He simply explained that the bark would allow one to wedge the G.I. Joe Guy into the tree and then throw rocks and sticks at them until they fell out of the tree. Fantastic.

It made me think about another recent example of how much I have to learn about boys and the way that they think: recently, we were on a walk- passing by the elementary school close to our house. In the parking lot was a dad with two young boys playing around on skate boards. As we passed, one of the kids purposely aimed his skate board at his friend's skate board and hoped right on. I braced myself for crying as the four year old hit the other skateboard with his and fell down pretty hard. Instead of crying, he got right back up and said, "I'm doing that again! It was fun!"

Oh, what an interesting learning curve it will be...

One Year Later: Lessons of the Journey

Almost exactly a year ago, I got pregnant with the boy we now know as Benji. Even now, looking back, it seems like such a monumental decision. When people ask about how it came down to our decision to begin trying (or more like not actively trying against) I still don't quite know what to say... There was a lot of discussion for the entire year ahead of time... What things would we miss, what would being parents be like, what would change, when would be the best time.... Just like a zillion other couples we talked endlessly about all the things that would be impacted by that simple choice not to use contraception...and then have a baby.

The part that makes me laugh is that seems like an eternity ago. Most of all, I feel incredibly relieved to no longer feel the pressure of that decision. There is no longer all the wondering about how things will work out. Now they just are. I have climbed the mountain and know what it looks like from the top.

What I can't help wanting to tell friends who remain childless and are no doubt weighing THE decision is that the whole thing is a learning process, a letting go process, and a making-peace-with-what-ever-happens-process. In retrospect one of the most powerful lessons that I learned in the last year is that in an era of total control, instant gratification, and constant information, pregnancy and childbirth is a lesson in not knowing and in rolling with the changes. And in the end, out of that comes the serendipity and inexplicable, indescribable joy in life.

So for those of you out there who feel no need to have children: there is no judgment from me. I support people's individual decisions and deeply believe that not everyone is supposed to be a parent. However, for those of you silently contemplating, waiting in the wings for others ahead of you to take the plunge, fearing the loss of your figure, your dink-y lifestyle, and your robust social calendar, remember these things while you contemplate:

You are never READY to have a baby. There is always more you could do without a little friend making everything more complex. At some point though, you just have to choose to get off the treadmill and give up your climate-controlled life. You won't fall apart, in fact, you may be surprised that you end up being a better person with more flexibility and compassion.

After a baby you are more accepting of all the ways that people are just doing the best that they can. If you haven't already, you will learn how to be more patient with your self and to let go of that obnoxious perfectionism (that drives everyone around you nuts anyways.)


You are giving some things up when you have a baby. Get used to it. (You won't miss them as nearly much as you think you will.) You are gaining more than you will ever know.

Don't wait so long to start. You will look back and wonder why you did. There are no guarantees in this life and nothing goes according to plan. Grandparents and other important people won't live forever.


This is one of the most amazing things you will ever do in life. No matter who you are, the feeling of bringing another person in to the world is absolutely incredible. Don't be afraid of it, embrace the privilege of it all.

You may never look exactly the same as you did prior to carrying a child inside of you for almost ten months. Somehow though, it doesn't matter quite as much how you look in a bikini anymore. The stretch marks on your stomach are not marks of failure but rather the pride you feel in your physical and mental strength.

And, oh, good luck when the time comes for you. I along with all the other parents in the world will be cheering for you.

A Ponder

It seems the possibilities for heart break are much greater when you have a child.

Let's Talk About Sex

... Or at least contraception, birth rates, and STDs. There have been some really interesting articles lately, especially related to contraception. Although none of them are asking why there still isn't anything on the market that a man has to be responsible for, more discussion about the older options might lead us to that, especially in a time when many literally cannot afford to have an oopsie!


The Best Birth Control: Why more young women should start using IUDs

Withdrawl Method Finds Ally

Recession's toll seen in U.S.'s birth rate


D.C. to offer STD tests in every high school

RSS Feed that one, baby!

If you are interested in wine, or interested in being interested in wine, or just like to read well-written blog posts about wine, or hate wine but love to hate it... Anyways, a friend of mine who used to write for a terrific neighborhood newspaper that was recently shut down has his own blooming wine blog, The Onologist's Wine Blog. I am not particularily into wine, but the way he writes makes me want to be. He combines his discussion of wines with reviews of restaurants where he eats, and posts fabulous pictures to boot. In short, it is so worth your time to read.

How to Lick a Slug (and Love the Outdoors)

Nicholas Kristof's article, How to Lick a Slug is a fabulous look at social change around the outdoors in the United States. It makes me both sad, but thankful that both husband and I grew up with a chance to really love and engage in the wonder of natural places.

Whether it is the Boundary Waters, the Quetico Wilderness, the Lake Superior Hiking Trail, the Waimea Canyon in Kauai, Rocky Mountain National Park, the Muir Woods, Acadia National Park, the Blue Ridge Mountains or Skiing in Lake Tahoe, I am drawn to the power of the outdoors. Thanks to the appreciation that was fostered in me from the beginning, I never feel quite so happy as I do when I am exploring or just drinking it in. (Thanks, Parents!) I hope that there is a resurgence of this feeling in this country, or as Kristof so defly points out, these areas will not be around in their natural splendor forever.

I feel proud that husband and I are already doing our part to make sure Benji appreciates the incredible joy that can be found as soon as he leaves the indoors, and all electrical outlets, behind.

Today's Mail

Today I got a wedding invitation from a former student of mine. She graduated from high school in 2005 and is now just about to graduate from college. Time flies, I can't believe that I will be watching a girl that I taught and advised in student council from the time that she was a sophomore until she was a senior, get married. Unreal.

I hate the cliche, "wow, that really makes me feel old", but it does. However, great happiness to be so proud of the woman my former student has grown into. I can't wait to watch her tie the knot. I believe that she will be fantastically happy. I absolutely love watching my former students grow up, and she has been my favorite of all.

Thanks for the mail, ABS!

Working Mama: Take One

This week, I will become a working mama. This change has been haunting me for quite a while and all too soon it is now just a day away. Although I have accepted it is going to happen, I have been really sad about it. I feel like something important is slipping away, I feel conflicted, I feel like my heart will break when I only get to see my baby boy a few hours out of each day.

The hardest part about all of this is that I have few friends who can really understand this experience (and consequently help me through it). Like most things in motherhood, this is something that can only be truly understood after you have gone through it yourself. Of the friends of mine who are mothers, few have gone back to work.

The thing is that I love my job. I have a lot of work to do before my students return this fall. I am excited about it. I like the program I manage, I love the students I work with, and I like the challenge of it all. I feel extremely lucky to have made a career change successfully before Baby B came along. My job, although not as fun as having free time, is pretty enjoyable. I know that I am meant to be out in the world, working towards a better life for others.


So although I can't wait to get back, I also can't imagine what it will be like to not spend every day with the Benji-man. We have seldom been apart in his first three months and I am sad that I won't be with him as he is trying to learn how to nap in a different bed and deal with all of the changes that are about to hit him. Knowing that I cannot be the one he wakes up to, snuggles with, and smiles at all day long makes me want to apologize to him. When I think about it, I feel like a part of myself will be missing during the day now. There is no better word for it all than heart break.

I always return to the fact that in the long run I would not enjoy being a stay-at-home mom. Already this summer being home has left me often feeling lonely and a bit isolated and sometimes even bored. Although I have a mommy network, it is not enough for me. I still itch to use my brain, to pursue adult things rather than planning enriching activities for Benji all day. I really admire people who can stay home, can be that self-contained, and who find great fulfillment in it. I just know I am not one of those people. So the going back to work has to happen eventually.

Oh, the mental gymnastics... Thank God for Mom and Baby Friends. I just got an email from another mom who is going back to work from the group this summer:

It's my last week off and I'm having a hard time thinking of going back to work. 12 weeks really went fast and my littly guy is growing up so fast. :( We moved Kai to a crib, I'm weaning off the breastfeeding and now I'm not going to be with him all day anymore. I think I'm a little hormonal but having a tough time with the situation. Would be good to chat with you all...

The irony is that those of us who are going back, now don't have much time to get together to commiserate...Most of the moms I know who have gone back assure me that the first week is the worst and after that it all gets better. I have a feeling that on Tuesday I may need to "cry it out" and just try to focus on why I am glad to be back at work. I know that all day long I will be fighting the urge to call and check up on him. I am no good with transitions and this one just feels very unnatural.

I will update after a week of working mama-dom. Wish me luck!

Motherhood by the Numbers

So far:

• Months being a mother: 3
• Days away from Baby B: 0
• Ounces of milk in the freezer: 150
• Average hours slept per night: 7.5
• Nights of post 10 pm bedtime: 10
• Date nights with husband: 2
• Times spit up on: too many to count
• Diapers changed: a million
• Larger cars purchased: 1
• Movies watched: 8
• Days left until returning to work: 1
• Minutes to myself: approx. 200
• Babies adored: 1