Overwhelmed. with a capital o.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010

"Mommy - gooooooooo!" says my daughter. Go means both go and come and this morning at 6:25 AM, go means come play with me.

"Daddy is going to go play this morning. Mommy needs to sleep a little more," I respond, grateful that my husband is getting up with Evvy this morning.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Evidently, she has chosen this morning to be anti-daddy. Great.

We try a few more times, but she wants nothing to do with her father this morning. So I lug myself out of bed and into the family room where she has now decided that Daddy is a sufficient playmate. I set up a makeshift bed on the floor so that I am still there but can close my eyes for a few more minutes. Today I feel exhausted. And my belly is itchy. And have I mentioned that my ass seems to decided it should keep up with my stomach? I'm going to need to get it it's own seat on our next flight. I keep making lists of things I need to get done but relaxing doesn't seem to be anywhere on that list. With the exception of the occassional pre-natal yoga class, I can't seem to find anytime for myself. It doesn't matter that I don't plan anything most evenings - there are dishes and laundry and bills. And those are just the weekly things - forget all the things on my list to get done before the baby arrives. I am exhausted.

At 7:15, while they go to walk the dogs, I get up and empty the dishwasher, reload the dishwasher, and start to get things ready for the sitter who will be arriving in an hour. Evvy has decided she wants cornichons for breakfast. Hey - whatever works.

I run to the grocery store to grab milk, which we are out of, since there will not be a successful naptime without milk. I take advantage of these 15 minutes to catch up with a good friend in NYC who has recently had her 2nd child - grateful for her words of wisdom and thoughts on how to juggle two as best as possible. (best as possible seems to be the key.)

I come home feeling mildly less overwhelmed when I enter my kitchen to my husband and child sitting on the floor surrounded by the contents of an entire container of Happy Baby puffs, most of her sippy cups and a slew of other things from the cabinets that I can't recall seeing because I was only seeing mild shades of red. Perhaps my baby is happy, but I am not.

I understand that my husband simply wants to keep her happy, but all too soon, he is going to realize the value of keeping mommy happy as well. Because he and I both know that now that I am home, he will need to get in a shower to leave for the day and I will be left to not only attempt to keep my toddler happy, but to also clean up the contents of the floor.

I spend the first 30 minutes that the sitter is there doing just that and getting dressed and I finally get out the door, knowing that at least I am on my way to yoga to try to clear my mind and my heart and my spirit. I am Overwhelmed - yes...with a capital O.

I was so zen during my pregnancy with Evvy but I am having immense trouble finding my zen this time around. I can't help but spend hours on end wondering how the hell I'm going to make it all work when there are 2. And yes, if you are my mother or my father or my aunt or anyone else of that generation, I am sure you are reading this, perhaps chuckling, thinking about how you did it and we all turned out fine. And that may be true. But I am not you, and I haven't done it yet and I am Overwhelmed. How do you tend to an infant, who literally needs you to survive, and a toddler, who emotionally needs you (and is still a baby too) at the same time? I know that people do it AAAAAAAAAAAAALL the time, but I haven't figured out how I'm going to do it. And to be honest, the questions from the other moms who have 18 month olds, asking me if I'm nervous about how I'm going to do it aren't helping. I smile warmly and say, "a bit, but we knew it would be more work at the beginning - we wanted the kids to be close in age." But what I want to say is, "Are you nuts? Of COURSE I'm nervous. I'm totally insane. What the hell was I thinking??????????" I don't.

I know that Evvy will be fine - that she will adapt. I know that I will manage to give the baby everything she needs as well. I know that there will just have to be enough of me to go around and that second babies tend to be more adaptable and that Evvy will adapt too. At least I tell myself these things to try to feel better. But when I'm done taking care of everyone else, I can't help but wonder, will there be enough of me left for me? Perhaps that's selfish of me, but to be perfectly honest, I think that in order to be a good mother, you need to be selfish sometimes. How do you give 100% of yourself to everyone else? You have to save a little bit for you. And I'm worried that there will be nothing left for me...

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:39 AM 0 comments  

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Which coast is the right coast?
Saturday, September 11, 2010

Just when I thought I was getting all zen about living in Los Angeles, my daughter had to go and start remembering our parents each time she sees them.


We've had a family filled week. We spent Labor day weekend with my in-laws and my nephews in Florida and then two days after we got back, my parents came out here to spend time with us. On both occasions, Evvy remembered her grandparents immediately. And on both occasions, she bolted out of bed in the morning asking to go see her grandparents. My parents left this evening and I'm dreading the tears tomorrow (both hers and mine) when she wakes up to find that Grammy and Papa are no longer sleeping in her playroom.

We talk about moving back east on a weekly basis now. There would have been a time when having that conversation would have given me anxiety because I would have wanted it to happen so badly that it hurt - and the mere idea of having to stay in Los Angeles would have left me breaking out in hives. But in the past couple of years, I have grown to love LA. I still understand the whole NY mentality that the seasons give you character. But to be honest, when I was trudging through slush and the wind was blowing in my face, my character was not much more than bitchy. I love the weather in LA. Constant sun, no humidity, temps that rarely go below 60...it makes a girl happy, plain and simply. And you really can't knock happiness. Perhaps my unplanned vacation from the entertainment industry has left me happier as well since it's left me time as a mommy to meet a whole other group of people in LA. I have great friends here. I still miss my friends in NYC - there are days and moments where I long to just make a call and share a bottle of wine with one of them. But I do have great friends in LA now too. I'm happy here.

Except that we live 5000 miles away from our families. I missed our parents before - but seeing them with Evvy makes everything different. She ADORES them and they her. It's a love affair the way a grandparent/grandchild should have and for her to only have that on special occasions is absolutely heartbreaking to us. Never mind the practicality factor of having an extra set of hands or two every so often - or knowing that you can go away for a weekend because your parents will hop in the car and come take care of your kid. While we are aware that there are pluses to living far away from family at times, we have trouble sympathizing when friends complain about the 30 minutes schlep across LA to go see their families. Plus, throw in the fact that it's not so easy to get a 17 month old toddler to sit still for a 5 hour plane ride (and that's only if there aren't delays) and the fact that we're about to have ANOTHER child and all of a sudden, we're not coming back east anymore.

I wonder if my love for LA will continue without the biting sarcasm of the New York City streets to break things up now and then.

But work is here right now. And so right now, this is where we'll be. And while the sun might shine most of the time in LA, on the days our parents leave town, it doesn't matter how bright the sun is shining - it's colder than any slushy, windy east coast day.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:46 PM 0 comments  

I'm baaaaack
Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Oh wait - I don't want to make any grand statements yet. I might be back. I'm trying to be back. I have no idea how often I'll be on here or how high the quality of my writing will be. I've decided not to set any goals for myself since I tend to rebel against things like that and I figure there's no quicker way to make sure that I don't show up than to say I'm going to write x number of times a week, a month, etc. etc. etc...

But, as you can see, I'm trying to get back into this writing thing again. I had a little encouragement (thanks for letting me know I was missed) and I've been meaning to do something to get my brain working outside of mommy-hood a bit so I figured there was, to quote one of my favorite musicals, no day like today.

I've also been contemplating the name of this thing...when I started this blog, I was pretty focused on getting back to Manhattan. And while it's still a dilemma in our lives as a family, I've found myself sort of nicely settled in LA. Is it weird to have a blog called "Take Me Back to Manhattan" and rarely talk about Manhattan or going back?

Anyhow, that's all for tonight. My child threw a 30 minute tantrum over a popsicle before she went to bed and I think I've done about as much thinking as I possibly can for today. But I just wanted to say thanks to those who have let me know that they're glad I'm writing again (and of course, those that encouraged me to do so in the first place.) I can't tell you how much it means to know that even one person is interested in reading what I have to say...

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 7:57 PM 0 comments  

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The 120th Day
Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Monday was my 120th day. Well, at least I think it was. It's hard to know exactly, but I counted from the day that I think the baby was conceived.

This woman is nuts, you're thinking. Why on EARTH would she need to know when her 120th day falls?

In the yogic tradition, the 120th day is the day that a woman actually becomes a mother because that is the day that the soul of the baby actually enters the body. It is said that from that day forward, the baby is aware of everything the mother says, feels, thinks - the people she surrounds herself with, the music she listens to, the food she eats - and all of this shapes the baby.

Now I KNOW she's nuts.

Perhaps. But I've been a yoga devotee for several years now and I have no doubt that yoga had a huge positive influence on my first pregnancy and birthing experience so I've been going even more this time around. So when one of my teachers, Akal, told me that she would love to celebrate my 120th day in class, I got out my calendar and I counted.

Class fell on Tuesday (since I don't know for CERTAIN the exact day, it all works out - right?) and on Tuesday, we did a meditation and mantra to welcome our baby's soul. It was was absolutely amazing. In the week preceeding the class, I noticed that I had started feeling more connected to the baby. I don't know if it's because I had felt like total ass for the first 18 weeks of my pregnancy and I was finally starting to feel better. I don't know if it's because the baby was starting to move more. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was because the baby's soul was entering it's body - and that left me feeling more connected. But I did. And on Tuesday morning, as we chanted a beautiful sanskrit meditation, I swear I felt bathed in warm golden sunlight.

Perhaps I am nuts. Or perhaps this baby is going to bring more warm, golden sunlight into my life than I ever could have imagined. Or perhaps it's a little bit of both...

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:23 PM 2 comments  

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LOVE AND LIGHT
Monday, August 16, 2010

To be honest with you, I don’t know if the movie Eat Pray Love was good or not. I don’t know because I felt moved at times, inspired, and connected. A movie doesn’t have to be well done to do that, but when it does do those things for me, it’s hard for me to determine if I think it’s a good movie. I’ve seen a few HORRIBLE movies that I left the theater loving because I related. Upon 2nd viewing, I would realize that it was simply the circumstance or the place I was in my life at that moment or whatever – but that the movie itself was actually awful. I don’t know if Eat Pray Love falls into this category (the reviews would have me believe so) or not, but I left feeling satisfied.

There is a moment when the main character is in India talking about her ex-husband and looking for forgiveness or looking for him to tell her she’s ok and it’s ok or whatever it is she’s looking for that is not only outside of herself, but outside of her control. And her friend at the Ashram tells her that all she can do is forgive herself – that when a person that she is concerned about floats into her consciousness, all she can do is wish that person Love and Light – and then move them out of her consciousness.

In the past year, I have struggled with a few close relationships in my life. Close is a funny word to describe them, because that’s exactly what I no longer feel with these people. None of them have relationships with each other – the only thing they have in common is that at one time in their lives, they had an extremely close relationship with me. And from my perspective, we don’t have the same relationship anymore. The details are different with each person but the underlying reason is the same. Things change. People change – even the people that you are sure you know because you’ve known them for 10 or 15 or 20 years. We all grow up and new people enter our lives and new experiences effect us and we grow and we shift and we change. So we’ve probably both changed and with that, so has the friendship. I don’t know whether or not they feel the things that I feel, but I no longer feel good or happy or fulfilled by these relationships. I often find myself angry after interactions with any of these people. I go in hoping things will be what they once were – but fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice, well – you know the rest. So shame on me for expecting things to be different at this point. I leave angry, hurt, frustrated, nostalgic. But more than anything, I’m left sad. And conflicted. I care deeply for all of these people. But I no longer desire to have the relationship that we once had. And my inability to figure out how to “let go” has taken up a part of my being that would be so much better used for other, more positive things. I ultimately wind up angry at MYSELF. Why am I letting someone that I don’t even really LIKE anymore get to me so deeply? Why am I spending so much time thinking about it? Why, just when I think I’ve gotten to a new level, does something happen that sends me reeling all over again? And in the end, I’m the one who’s left with all the shit swimming in my head and my heart. It’s not good for me.

So I’m going to try something new. When anything happens with one of these people, or if I just happen to be thinking about them for whatever reason – be it because they’ve reached out or have come up in conversation or whatever – instead of thinking and thinking and thinking some more about what used to be and what isn’t now and what happened the last time we saw each other or spoke that just chipped another piece away from the relationship – I’m going to send them Love and Light and then I’m going to move them out of my consciousness. It makes sense – I struggle because I do love, even if I don’t like so much anymore. And looking for answers has my chasing my tail. So I’m going to try only being positive and letting go.

Yes it’s totally idealistic. But I’ve been trying to let go for a few years with some of these people and nothing has worked. So as someone smart once said, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:45 PM 1 comments  

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Seeing the world through different eyes
Wednesday, November 25, 2009

We're in NYC for Thanksgiving and today we went up to the Central Park Zoo with Evvy's 2 year old cousin, Eli. It was a great afternoon, save the fact that my daughter has chosen this trip to NYC to boycott her stroller-which means I strapped her to my chest for our entire walk through the zoo. Oh and did I mention that Evvy is not so fond of shoes? Eli's favorite phrase by the end of the day was "shoe alert! Shoe alert!!" Because that's what I said every single time my daughter's shoes were kicked off. Which totalled about 50.

Anyhow, I kept my eyes on my kid more than anything else. And she kept her eyes on the entire world. The lights, the noises, the tall buildings, the trees- it was a visual playground for my 8 month old daughter. And I got to see NYC through her eyes. Everywhere she looked I looked. She was absolutely exhausted. Yawns for days...but it didn't matter- she wasn't going to miss a thing. Reminded me of myself back in the day...didnt matter how tired I was. I could sleep when I got back to LA.

We got through the zoo, then walked down Fith Ave past the silver clad windows of Bergdorf Goodman, the lit up red bow of Cartier, the horns and the yelling and the every day average sounds of NYC- all unfamiliar to my little girl. When it was time to go home, it was 4 PM. For those of you who don't know, that's the time that many many cabs go off duty, making finding one a nearly impossible feat. We walked and walked. We tried the stroller, but she wasn't having it. It started to spit, but she a hat on and didn't care if she got a little wet as long as she could look up and see everything. We walked fromthe east side to the west side. I sang her songs as she yawned, hoping to make her sleep, but instead they made her laugh which truthfully, was probably better than sleep ever would have been. There were no cabs to be found and while my feet were ready to fall off, I decided I'd rather sacrifice my feet than take the subway in the age of swine flu.

We walked down 9th, which was a veritable parking lot and around 45th I realized that my child was going to have to get in her stroller if we were going to make it downtown. She screamed, I walked faster and 3 short blocks later, at 42nd, we finally found a cab. The second we got inside, away from the lights and the sounds and the smells, my little girl fell asleep in my arms.

It was exhausting. Made me question whether or not I could truly have a baby in this city. My feet freaking killed (still do), my hair was a disaster (still is), my child barely napped (and for those of you that have kids, you know that's a NIGHTMARE.)

But. At the end of the day, I can honestly say that it was the best view I've ever had of NYC.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:31 PM 2 comments  

parenting in a nutshell
Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The following is a conversation I had with my good friend, Stacey, recently:

Me: So we started Evvy on solids yesterday.
Stacey: That's exciting! What did you feed her?
Me: Rice cereal.
Stacey: I thought you weren't going to start with rice cereal.
Me: I know...I decided to.
Stacey: (laughing) Aren't you the one who said to me, 'Would YOU want to eat rice cereal?"
Me: Haven't you figured me out yet with this whole parenting thing? I think I know exactly how it should all go until it actually comes time to do it and then I realize I'm full of shit and just do whatever works...

Stacey laughs at me.

Me: And anyhow, she loved the rice cereal. So who cares if I wouldn't want to eat it. SHE certainly did. 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 7:03 PM 1 comments  

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Two Years
Thursday, August 27, 2009

So it's 110 in the shade, my baby is getting her first 2 teeth, we're moving in 3 days and today I tripped over a bouncy chair, an activity jumper and a pacifier. Life is a little hectic right now. But it occurred to me when I opened my email and found that it was time to renew my domain name (aka the website name www.fromnytola.com for those of you who aren't literate in the blogosphere) that I have been writing this blog for two whole years. And while I've been fairly neglectful as of late, I've gotten several random comments here and there that let me know that there are a bunch of you out there that are still reading. (Thank you, by the way. For not neglecting me just because I've become the most inconsistent blogger EVER.) 


When I got my latest email from a friend telling me that they enjoyed my last post (and sidenote - yes, I did add Adam Fletcher as a friend on Facebook. And sidenote 2, I am totally paranoid that Adam Fletcher is going to google himself and find my post...but such is life I suppose. And then are all of you that are my facebook friends going on to my page and checking out Adam Fletcher??? Anyhow...moving on.) As I was saying, when I got the latest email and then got my "domain renewal notice" I realized how much has changed since I started this blog 2 years ago. (besides the fact that I now have a FIVE MONTH OLD BABY. Ummm...how the hell did she get to be five months old already??? Tangent. Sorry.) 

In August 2007, I named this blog "Take Me Back to Manhattan". Need I say more? But while I'd like to be on the east coast a lot more than I have been lately, I can't say that every day I want to be taken back to Manhattan. I miss New York and the east coast and the people in it. And I'll always, always, ALWAYS consider myself a New Yorker. While I still find that LA can leave a bit to be desired in many departments, the weather sort of makes up for most of it. That, and not having to schlep a stroller up and down the subway stairs day in and day out. Have I (dare I say it) gotten used to LA?? Even grown to LIKE it? And do I perhaps consider it home? At least I do for the time being. (aka - still can't commit...) 

What's a good name for a blog about being bicoastal??

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:36 PM 0 comments  

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Tales of an 8th Grade Nothing
Sunday, August 16, 2009

In 8th grade I slapped Adam Fletcher across the face. I was about 4'10 and being that he was the star of the basketball team, he was significantly taller than 4'10. Adam Fletcher and I "dated" for about 2 minutes. Dated the way you do in 8th grade.

"Wanna go out with me?" and by go out, he meant be his girlfriend to write notes to, meet at lockers and if it lasted long enough, kiss behind the movie theater on the weekends.

"Sure," I responded, giddy to be the flavor of the month for the star of the basketball team.

I don't actually remember how it was that Adam Fletcher and I came to be an item. But I do remember how it ended. It was a short-lived romance. I don't recall how short lived, but short lived enough that I'm pretty certain there was none of that kissing behind the movie theater on the weekend. I'm going to guess that we lasted about 3 or 4 days - tops.

Adam broke up with me and when he did, he proceeded to tell me that he'd actually never really been interested in me in the first place. He only asked me out to get back at his ex-girlfriend who had recently broken is heart and who happened to be my best friend. And it wasn't that he thought she'd be jealous because he was dating me. He figured we were so attached at the hip that by breaking up with me, he would somehow be hurting her the way she had hurt him. This makes absolutely no sense, but I swear to you, this is what he told me. Or rather, this is what he had the person who broke up with me for him tell me.

I was fuming. I didn't really like Adam Fletcher all that much, but I certainly wasn't going to be anyone's pawn in a stupid game of heartache. And so, I marched my 4 foot 10 inch self into the annex after lunch. I tapped Adam Fletcher on the shoulder as he stood at his locker. When he turned around, I peered up at him and said, "I have one thing to say to you...", I smacked him across the face, looked at him long enough to see the look of pure shock and then turned on my heel and walked out of the annex the same way I had come in. I heard him screaming something after me that I believe included some sort of profanity. But I didn't care. I had shown him I was not a pawn in his game of chess.

My next class was Social Studies and Mr Chiango asked to see me in the hall before class started. It had never dawned on me that I could possibly get in trouble for doing what I had done (which was, in fact, HITTING someone at school.) Mr. Chiango lectured me about how I could have really gotten in trouble but even more, I could have gotten hurt. But before he was done with me, he broke into a smile from ear to ear and said, "But good for you kid." and then told me to NEVER EVER do anything stupid like that again.

I walked back into class with a spark in my step. Even the teacher was thrilled with my decision. I don't think I spoke to Adam Fletcher again for the rest of the year until we were "graduating" from Jr. High. He came and sat next to me on the bus and apologized for being such a dick. And then he told me that I had a "great right hook".

I wonder if Adam Fletcher remembers this story and if he does, I wonder if he remembers it the same way that I do. I wonder if Adam Fletcher remembers anything else about me because I can't, for the life of me, remember a thing about him after 8th Grade.

What made me think of Adam Fletcher? Well, he friend requested me on Facebook recently. It made me think about him and I realized that in my mind, Adam Fletcher is still the little shit who asked me to go out with him so he could break up with me to get back at my best friend. But clearly, that's no longer who Adam Fletcher is. I actually have no idea who he is, but I hope he's happy.

It made me think about perceptions, the way we think about people from our past. I know that I am left with the way that I knew them last. But there is always room for change and I can only hope that people that haven't seen me in ages, who don't know me anymore would leave room for me to be a different person than I was when they knew me. And I can only hope that I would do the same for them.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:36 PM 4 comments  

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No way out but through.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I. Am. OVERWHELMED. With a capital O in case you missed it there.

I had a babysitter today. For five hours. Sounds great - right? And I got home 20 minutes before it was time for her to leave...thinking I could eat something (since I am starving ALL the time. ALL. I'm never not hungry. I ate an Indian feast for dinner...still hungry. ALWAYS.) I unpacked the car, walked in the front door and was greeted by the pups. Oh yeah, I thought. I have dogs. They need to be walked. Dogs first, eating second.

So I walked the dogs and when I got back in, I decided it would be much faster if I put the car seat and strolled in the car without Evvy in them. So I did that. Dogs, then stroller, then eating. But then I came back in and realized I HAD to change because I was broiling in my outfit. Dogs, then stroller, then change, and then I'll eat. But then I realized it was 1:57 and my sitter was only here until 2 and we had class at 2:30. So eating didn't happen at home.

No. Eating happened at McDonald's. What? You didn't hear me??? MC-freaking-Donald's. That's what I ate today for lunch. Because I was so hungry I was starting to see stars and there is NOT ENOUGH FREAKING TIME IN THE DAY TO EAT ANYMORE. So I ate McDonald's and thought. "Is this really my life? Eating McDonald's on the run???"

Did I mention we're moving? Yeah - in 3 weeks. Oh and did I mention that this just happened a few days ago? So no - I wasn't exactly prepared for it. So we're moving in 3 weeks and my babysitter is going back to college and there is SOOO much crap to do and on top of it, the sleep training, which in general is going amazingly well, seems to have caused me to sleep LESS because I wake up now and feel the need to check on my child since she is no longer waking me up during the night. Ummmm - isn't that the OPPOSITE of what's supposed to happen? I thought her sleeping through the night was supposed to equal me sleeping through the night. Instead I'm starting to feel catatonic. Why am I sitting down to write then? (you ask this because I haven't written more than twice in the past four months. normal question.) BECAUSE APPARENTLY AS SOON AS BEDTIME ROLLS AROUND I'M WIDE AWAKE. Yup. I was up from 12:30 AM to 3 AM last night. Wiiiiiiiide awake. Just as I am now at 10:52. Thinking of all the things I have to do because as soon as I cross three things off my to do list, 5 more pop into my head.

And about that sleep training...Did I mention the fact that I am now being tortured because my daughter initially took to sleep training so well? Yes. She learned to sleep in no time. However, being so well rested allowed her the energy to finally roll over. The problem? She rolls over in her crib and while she sleeps fabulously on her back, she hasn't figure out that she can put her head down while she's on her stomach. So of course, Like the good mother I am, I've been going in and rolling her over and within seconds, she's asleep. But today, it was pointed out that she needs to learn that she can sleep on her stomach. And the only way she'll learn that is if I let her figure it out. Letting her figure it out = much crying in frustration. There goes my good mother theory down the drain. So tonight, I let it go on for as long as I could stand (she fell asleep on her belly for about 45 minutes before waking up again and WAAAAAAAILING) and then I did it - I rolled her over. Two seconds later she was fast asleep. I just couldn't stand it anymore. Tomorrow night I'll try again. I'll let her be frustrated. But I'd had it tonight...I needed to give her a quick fix.

It struck me as I was thinking about this whole process - this is life. You have to cry in frustration before you figure it out. No one can tell you or figure it out for you. They can't protect you from it or do it for you. You have to do it yourself to really learn. And most of the time that's accompanied by a lot of frustration (and often some tears as well.) It doesn't matter if you're learning to roll over, figuring out how to ride a bike, learning how to be in a relationship, trying to get a job or going after the things you've always wanted most. It's really quite simple. You just have to keep reaching through the frustration until you get there. And as long as you don't give up, you will figure it out. So while she cries in frustration as she learns a new skill, I'll have to breathe through my frustration and let her.

Dogs, then stroller, then change, the McDonald's...then breathe. I'm going to try to the move that last one to the front of the list...right after I make sure I eat.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:43 PM 0 comments  

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The wishes that can't come true...
Friday, July 31, 2009

I've written this post in my head so many times over the past 2-ish years but tonight, I just felt the need to actually put pen to paper (so to speak...and btw, I love the idea of actually putting pen to paper these days. The computer screen is so bright...)


My friend Stacey is on a plane to NYC right now. She wasn't supposed to go until Tuesday. But she got that phone call  - the "you need to come now" phone call. She got the phone call I got 2 years ago, the one I chose not to act on because I'd had my "last" visit. But Stacey hadn't yet had hers - it was planned for Tuesday but it needs to be tomorrow instead. I don't know why talking to Stacey prompted me to write when other moments have not. The brief conversation we had on the phone tonight brought emotions flooding for me.  Maybe it's that I feel uncannily connected to Stacey.  Maybe because my grandmother's birthday was this week and I can't bring myself to take it (or her phone number) out of my blackberry. Maybe it's because the circumstances surrounding Stacey's trip felt all too familiar and because Stacey's relationship with her grandmother seems so similar to the one I had with mine. Maybe there's no reason that it's hitting me right now specifically.  There's not much to say in those moments so I just shared what had brought me peace in those final weeks - that my grandmother wasn't comfortable anymore and that it didn't matter how much we were all going to miss her (terribly beyond words) - because her life wasn't what she would want it to be. And so, while it was painful to see her go, it was best for HER. I said it without a quiver in my voice, but I hung up the phone and for the first time since my grandmother's unveiling last September, I cried that she was gone. 

A few months ago I brought Evvy to Massachusetts for the first time. And when I walked into my parents house, I had the oddest sensation. I had to remind myself over and over that my grandmother wasn't here anymore because I kept having this overwhelming desire to pick up the phone and call her to say that we were here the way I always did when I got home. I've often missed my Grammy, but I've rarely wished her back - except in that moment. She would have loved Evvy - not just because she was her great grand-daughter - but because she has great pulkies (as my mother-in-law says, "her rolls have rolls!") and she has great spirit. At 4 months old, this kid has chutzpah that can rival the best of them. 

I wish she could meet her. I know in my heart that she knows her - probably more than even I do at this point. But tonight,  I wish her back just for a moment...

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:32 PM 1 comments  

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Stream of Conscious
Thursday, June 11, 2009

Do you ever wonder what it was like to be a baby? I stare at Evvy and wonder what's she's thinking and wonder what it must be like to be her. I can't fathom being that little and depending so completely on someone else to make sure that you are cared for. The whole thing blows my mind. Watching her discover her hands, her mouth, her laugh...everything is new to her. That must be amazing - to have everything be new. I suppose I'm living vicariously through her because everything with her is new to me.

Why do you think it is that we don't remember what it's like to be a baby? That we don't have memories that early? There has to be some sort of reason for it - everything else in this whole process of having a baby has a reason - so there must be one for that too. Although I'm certain it's not as scientific as the reasons behind most of the things that happened while I was pregnant and having a baby. But our bodies just know how to do so many things without having to learn or being told...so I'm guessing not having memories as a baby is something our bodies do for a reason as well.

When I started thinking about my earliest memory, my first year of pre-school came to mind. Those are my earliest memories - when I was 3. They're vague most of them - flashes of people and pictures of places. I remember driving up to the house that my parents now live in and sitting outside looking at it. I must have been 2 1/2 at the time actually because we moved in before my sister was born and she's a little bit less than 3 years younger than me. I sat in the backseat of my mom's blue car - a chevy maybe? My mom was in the driver's seat and my grandmother was in the passenger's seat. I have such a vivid picture in my head of sitting outside the house and leaning forward while we all peered at the new home we would be moving into. That's it - just a snapshot...but I remember it. I wonder if it's even real.

And I wonder if the memory of my nursery school car pool where I screamed at the boy who got in the car to "Get up. GET UP!! You are SITTING on Wonder Woman! YOU ARE SQUISHING HER!!!!" is a real memory of my own - or simply one that I remember from hearing my mother tell the story so many times.

Why are certain memories so vivid for some and non-existent for others - even if they shared the same experience? What will I remember to share with my daughter about this time? (I was supposed to be writing it all down but I am certain that I will remember to tell her that there's no time for that.)

Sometimes I want to freeze this moment - where my child still needs me. The moments before she finds her independence. I know that I can not and so instead, I just breathe it all in deeply and stay present. And I stare at her and wonder just what is going on in that beautiful little head. And I believe that I will remember these moments forever.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 11:03 PM 2 comments  

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The things you think about...
Saturday, May 23, 2009

Three teenage girls walk into the pool - probably 13? Maybe 14. Slightly awkward but cute. They look around, as though they are trying to scope out a spot...and then one of them yells, "Dad!" and goes over to the pool to talk to her father. She introduces her 2 friends to her dad and I glance at the baby girl sleeping soundly next to me. My baby girl. Who someday (in about 13 years to be exact) will be a teenage girl too.

I find myself looking at her and thinking "I was that little once" alternated with thoughts of "one day she's going to be 33". It's sort of insane. How do babies turn into adults?

I've watched my nephews grow up. The oldest is now 6....I guess when you watch it happen, it makes sense. But it's still hard to believe.

I wonder who she's going to be. Whether she'll like chocolate or vanilla. What will her favorite song be. Will she be a tomboy or a girlie girl? Will she want to be a movie star or president? (Can't help but hope for the latter...)Or will she want to travel the world or be a teacher?

I can't wait to find out. And when she's 13, I only hope she won't hate me and she'll still think I'm cool. The 13 year old girl at the pool definitely still was into her Dad. At the end of the day, that's all I really want.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:34 PM 1 comments  

Doody Day
Monday, April 27, 2009

That's the name of my blog post from yesterday. The one about the fact that every time we changed Evvy's diaper, 5 minutes later she made ANOTHER doody and we had to change it again. Oh wait. You didn't read that post because I never got around to writing it. It lived only in my head along with the other 35 posts I've written but never actually written about being a mommy and having a child and just about life in general. 


But then today came. And the title of yesterday's post was oh, so apropos. Not because the same thing happened all over again today, but because today was, in fact, a shit day. How does one not feel like a bad mother when they are told that onions could give their child gas but they decide that the small amount of onion that's in the recipe they make is small enough that it won't matter.  Because let me assure you - IT MATTERS. I singlehandedly put my daughter through gaseous pain all day. And because she was in such pain, nothing satisfied her. I couldn't put her in my carrier, I couldn't put her in the sling. She only wanted to be held. But that didn't slow me down. No sirree. I was still DETERMINED to get that laundry done, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and every other anal retentive thing that you might think a mom at home would do. At 3:41 PM I looked at the clock, thinking I had another hour before my chiropractor appointment and realized I needed to have left 5 minutes ago since I was walking there with Evvy. 

I don't know when it happened but somewhere in the process of leaving the house, I did something to my back. So much so that when I started walking and pushing the stroller, I questioned whether or not I would be able to make it the 10 or so blocks I had to go to get to my chiropractor. However, the little person in my head (who, by the way, I've been having endless conversations with as of late. Sometimes this person even speaks out loud to Evvy) said that walking would be good for me. I agreed and so I soldiered on. So I said to myself as I winced with each step, "Well what am I supposed to do if Evvy needs to be carried all day and I have stuff to get done around the house? I mean, seriously...am I supposed to just sit and hold her?" And the person in my head paused for a moment and said, "Yes. That's exactly what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to forget about the laundry and the dishes and whatever other minutia you were dealing with when this happened, and you are supposed to just SIT and hold her."

Do you know what I said next?

"Oh."

Because the person in my head was so right. Humbled, I made my way to the chiropractor where he proceeded to adjust me in all sorts of insane ways and then he gave Evvy some belly massage to help with the gas too. 

As I hobbled around the house this evening and my back started spasming, I thought about how ridiculous it was that I had to hurt myself to learn that I need to slow down with a 5 week old. Yay! Good for me...I'm out and about with my little one... everyone is so impressed with how well I've adjusted! But apparently Little Ms. Type A hasn't adjusted as well as she thought she had. So my body slowed itself down for me. 

Lesson learned. I'll take a doody day over a shit day any day. 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:56 PM 4 comments  

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Adventures in Babysitting...Oh Wait.
Thursday, April 9, 2009

That's how it feels sometimes. Like someone's going to come home and ask me if everything was ok, how the baby did, did she eat, did she cry a lot, etc. etc. But that's not going to happen because the baby is actually MINE. And the baby is a she. 


On March 20 at 7:25 in the morning, I gave birth to a little girl. My husband almost passed out when the doctor announced, "It's a girl!" It sounded exactly the way it does in all the movies and tv shows because really, there's no other way to announce it except to do it that way. My husband comes from a family of 2 boys. His brother has 3 boys. Everyone pretty much thought it was a boy. Some people determined this because of the way I was carrying. Others decided that because of my husband's family history, it was a given. I was up in the air the entire time and in the last two months decided that it was entirely possible that it could be a girl. He, on the other hand, didn't even know what that meant at first - like a girl was another species or something. It didn't take him long to learn, however. Because the truth is, when you look at your child and you realize this is YOUR child, you find places in your heart that you never knew existed before.

Evvy and I (that's her name - Evvy. That's 2 v's just in case any of you have the concern that my mother-in-law had...that it looks like Ewy when you type it on the computer. And apparently one of my sister's friends thought her name WAS Ewy so my mother-in-law isn't so crazy after all). Anyhow...what was I saying? Mommy brain is worse than pregnant brain btw. I fear I am completely LOSING my brain...but don't really care at the same time because I figure if it's important enough, I'll remember. And these days that pretty much includes making sure my kid is fed and changed and warm and dry. Anything other than that doesn't really matter. 

So Evvy and I have been on several outings. Apparently this is considered very brave for new moms. We went to a mommy and me yoga class this morning. It was our first. When I was asked how old she was (almost 3 weeks) the other moms looked at me and said, "Oh, she's your second?" 

"No, she's my first."

"Oh, is this your first outing alone with her?"

"No - actually, she came with me to get my eyebrows waxed and to therapy last week, and this week we've been to Barney's and to the Pump Station (there's truly a place here called the Pump Station and for anyone living in LA, it is an INGENIOUS resource for new moms.) And she's been to a few of our friend's houses for dinner."

They looked at me dumbfounded. I gave them the same look back. (Not really - we started chatting and everyone was really quite lovely.)

But they truly were shocked at how much we've been out and about. To me, there's not really an option. I don't do all those things in one day and when we do go out, I'm usually in desperate need of a nap upon return (which I just woke up from) but I figure I might as well get her used to being out and about since that's the kind of people we are. Out and about people.  

It has resulted in some fairly humorous moments. I truly thought I was in a movie last Friday. I couldn't have written the scene better myself and I'm sure it's appeared in a least one tv show if not a film or three as well. We were taking a trip down to Pasadena to go to Right Start because sadly they are going out of business - but that means amazing discounts and as you know, I'm a bargain shopper. My husband had a meeting that morning and asked if I needed help getting the stroller in the car before he left. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Graco "snap and go" (ummm...that would be me about 2 months ago...) it's a stroller like apparatus that your car seat just "snaps" right into and then you can "go". We'd used it around the neighborhood a few times. I told him I didn't - that I was sure I could figure it out. 

Well, I was most definitely wrong. I strolled Evvy out to the car and was feeling fabulous because this was the first time she wasn't screaming in the car seat. I was running a little late since I had not yet quite learned to factor in timing for going places with a baby. I snapped the car seat into the back seat, threw my very chic Stella McCartney for LeSportsac diaper bag in the front (I felt the need to include that because I'm trying really hard to still be fashionable while carrying a DIAPER BAG), and went to break down the snap and go stroller to throw in the trunk. But this was not the easy task that I expected it to be. Five minutes later, Evvy is still content in her car seat but I am sweating and swearing and feel like I'm about to have a meltdown because I can't get the freaking stroller to collapse. So I do the only thing there is to do - attempt to get the entire thing in my trunk. I tried several different angles, all to no avail. I look at my kid in the back seat, who appears to be looking back at me although all the books tell me she can only see 8 inches in front of her. I look at the stroller. I make a snap decision to be a HORRIBLE mother already and I lock my kid in the car and RUN as fast as I possibly can with the stroller to our front door and put it in the house. Granted, the car is parked right in front of our house, it's not 100 degrees out or anything - but really...I feel like I've broken the first rule of parenting 101 by locking my kid in the car. I sprint back to the car, unlock it, get in the back seat momentarily to make sure my baby still has all 10 fingers and toes and still isn't screaming...and off we go to bargain shop. 

See why I called this post adventures in babysitting? 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:16 PM 6 comments  

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Your path is your own
Sunday, March 15, 2009

There's been a lot of discussion of age recently. Not simply because we're having a baby, although I know from personal experience that other people's "milestones" (of which I have always felt having a baby is one) tends to leave others looking and reflecting on their lives...which often leads to looking at age and where you are, where you expected to be, blah blah blah. In the course of a couple of weeks, I have been to the birthday celebration of a person turning 50, a dinner party for someone turning 39 and tonight we're headed to a dinner for someone turning 33. My husband's birthday is on Monday and of course, the most significant (for me) literal birth day is swiftly approaching. And that doesn't even cover the 7 or 8 other friends who had a birthday last week or are approaching one this week. 


Birthdays bring up age and age seems to bring up all sorts of shit. I remember when I was 21, the thought of 30 was insane. 30 was OLD. But it was 9 years away and I had lots of life to live before I hit that. I'd be married and successful by then (whatever that meant) and maybe even have a baby. Shortly before my 23rd birthday, I moved to NYC and started waiting tables while I was auditioning. I landed a job that most NYC waiters coveted but it wasn't the restaurant that I was taken with - it was the people that I had the amazing good fortune to work with. It was an eclectic, bright, vibrant group of creatives - everyone from furniture makers to dancers to actors to philosophers to students to the ultimate fashionistas and foodies. And they ranged in age from 19 to 55. Two years prior I wouldn't have thought that I would have much to say to that 55 year old, but all of a sudden, I was blind to age. I was thrilled by their knowledge, by their thoughts on life, by their triumphs and struggles. One of my closest friends in the group celebrated her 30th birthday that year - and she was anything but old. I had learned my lesson - age was just a number. 

We discussed that at the birthday of the 50 year old this past weekend. If I had thought that 30 was 0ld when I was 21, then 50 must have been one foot in the grave. Now, 50 is young. Perhaps that's because of the youth and vibrance of those that I know that are 50. After all, it is still quite possible to be 50 and be old. But it's also possible to be 20 and to be old. Age is just a number.

It's amazing to me that I spent so many years placing ultimatums on myself surrounding my age. What made me think that I should be married by 30? (Besides a large portion of society acting as though you're a leper if you haven't settled down by a certain age.) I know plenty of people who DID get married by 30 - and now they're divorced. These things should be dictated by nothing more than finding a person with whom you truly want to spend the rest of your life. Not how old you are or how long you've been together. Simply by whether or not you think that you will be a good match for each other...forever. 

And then there's the baby thing. And for women, this is a huge issue because it's not mental - it's physical. As a man, you can get someone pregnant until the day you die. You don't have a "limit" as to when you are able to have a biological child. As a woman, plain and simply, you do. Your body will only allow you to conceive for a certain amount of time, whether you like it or not, whether you're ready or not. While this is (not SEEMS - IS) completely unfair to women, it's a fact and one that women I know deal with on a daily basis. Some women aren't ready to have kids, but worry that if they wait, they won't be able to. Some women are ready but haven't found a partner and worry that they won't before they lose their ability to have a child. Many women (again, myself included at one time) look at those around them having kids and feel like they're not where they're "supposed" to be by this time. Even if we don't think about that on a daily basis, it comes up now and then...often when we least expect it, triggered by someone else's news that should only be about them but all of a sudden has us spinning out about ourselves. And usually, it comes back to, "I'm 29/34/41/56. How am I not where I thought I should be by this age?"

So the question remains - who created an age by which you SHOULD have? Reached your goals. Started a family. Found a partner. Become an adult...(I know 49 year olds who will never be an "adult" and I know 22 year olds who are far too adult for their own good.) Who stuck these parameters - these limitations on our lives? And how do we shed ourselves of them so that we can just BE. And live. And enjoy. And strive. And take away the feelings of failure for not having achieved by a certain AGE. Because, as one of my wisest friends once said to me, your path is your own. And age is just a number. 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:55 AM 2 comments  

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some morning thoughts before I eat my bagel smothered in cream cheese...
Saturday, February 28, 2009

3 - The number of times I have left the oven on

1 - The number of time I have left the stove on (yes - I am aware there is a visible flame to remind you to turn it off...)
5 - The number of times I have lost my shopping cart in Target
1 - The number of times I never found it
1 - The number of times I forgot where I was supposed to be going
750 - The number of times I've forgotten what I was saying, what I was looking for or what I was doing


Pregnant brain is a real thing. I am ready for mine to be gone. Then I am sure that I will not remember anything for a while due to lack of sleep and total cluelessness as to how I am supposed to be raising a child.

We met with 2 more pediatricians. They were both totally normal and lovely and we are deciding between them. 

I woke up on Monday morning absolutely convinced that the baby was coming this week. Essentially, I turned into Paul Revere heralding the news on Monday morning to Matt that we needed to get EVERYTHING done IMMEDIATELY because "The baby is coming! The baby is coming!" 

The baby did not come. I must have had a dream or something...I don't know. But I'll tell you this much - everything is pretty much done! Shocker that I ran around like a crazy person and woke up yesterday morning feeling like crap. So now I'm sick and really round but at least everything is ready. 

That is, until the baby actually comes. Who the hell is EVER really ready for that? 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 7:48 AM 2 comments  

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I am a house
Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Both literally and figuratively. Figuratively speaking - I have grown exponentially in the past few weeks. Or I should say that my belly has grown. I am just one big belly. It's actually sort of amazing. My belly walks into the room 5 minutes before I do. Heh. I know - not funny. But it sort of is.


But literally, I am a house. Right now, I am my baby's home. I have an almost fully grown baby living INSIDE of my body. My body is a house. Think about this. Not just like, "right Michelle. We know...you're pregnant and you're having a baby and it's inside your stomach." Reeeeeally take a minute to think about the whole concept. It's INSANE. And amazing. 

My body will only be a house (and a home as I like to think about it) for another month - give or take a week or so. And while I'll be thrilled to have my body back and to not feel random pressing on my bladder, I will miss the intimate moments that can only occur between me and the baby. No one else knows what it feels like to have this particular baby inside of them. Just me. And that's a truly remarkable thing as well - something that I'm sure most mothers feel.

There's lots of stuff to be done at this point - we're busy de-cluttering and crossing off the 50 million things on my To Do list. I never knew I could be so busy without a job but I barely have a free minute to myself. (Except it's all time for myself given that in 5 weeks, I'm LITERALLY not going to have a free minute for myself.) 

One of the things on the To Do list is to meet with pediatricians. We met with our first one today and it was...well...how should I put it? Interesting. We are looking for someone who is willing to work with us on vaccinations - with a spread out schedule and the willingness to skip some of the vaccinations that, after much research, we don't feel are necessary. Blah blah blah. SO. We go to this pediatrician today. People rave about her, how fabulous she is. And she very well may be. But only in LA does a pediatrician leave you feeling like they're doing you a favor by being your doctor. Upon arrival into her less than stellar office space (more on that later), her office manager greeted us with, "And the $75 consult fee that we discussed. Did you say on the phone that you'd like me to bill your insurance?" 

There's only one small issue here- there was never a fee discussed. And while I've now been informed (by friends) that this is very common and most offices will not inform you of it in advance, it was clear that this woman was supposed to have discussed it with me and had screwed up. So as far as I was concerned, SHE should be paying for her mistake - not me. 

"You never mentioned a fee on the phone."

"I didn't? Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

Overhearing this, the doctor says, "It's fine. We'll just do a quick consult out here and there won't be a charge."

Which you would think is lovely but essentially meant, "I'll grace you with 5 minutes of my presence but don't think there will be time for many questions because time is money, kid."

The truth is, her office was not what I particularly imagine a pediatrician's office to be. Let's just say that while I have some liberal ideas about how I might want to handle my child's health, I'm still a Jew from the east coast. In other words, I'm a total snob. I'd love it if my pediatrician were also Jewish and it wouldn't hurt if their office was in Beverly Hills and smelled nice. Judge all you want - I know what I like and I'm NOT afraid to admit it. 

So tomorrow, this house will go visit another pediatrician. Her office is in Beverly Hills. Her last name sounds Jewish. So I guess tomorrow we'll see if I should judge a book by it's cover or not...




Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 4:58 PM 2 comments  

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I thought for certain that I would be here on a daily basis now. But between the insane clutter clearing of my house, the daily pre-natal yoga and walks, third trimester mid-afternoon naps and the fifty million other things on my "do in the next 8 weeks" list, I have all but forgotten about the fact that I have a blog. 


Especially one that's called "Take Me Back to Manhattan". A year ago, I would have written in scrupulous detail about my almost 3 week trip back east (the first one I've had that was that long since I moved to LA four years ago.) I also would have written a lengthy post lamenting my return. But NYC was amazing and coming back to the 75 degree weather in LA was actually kind of nice too. And while I still stand by the fact that the food is better in NYC, the shopping is better in NYC, the ability to walk and take the subway and get everywhere and anywhere in 20 minutes (except for the annoying Upper East Side which I had to venture to once and was reminded why I never EVER go to the Upper East Side) is so amazing about NYC,  and the theater and culture are better in NYC, and I still have tons of great friends in NYC, the weather in the winter will ALWAYS be better in LA. And it's nice to go to the farmer's market. And have a kitchen big enough to cook in. And sometimes, it's even nice to drive a car.

Do I have to change the name of my blog now? 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 6:00 PM 2 comments  

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2009
Friday, January 9, 2009

I was running around like a crazy person trying to set up these last minute meetings. I had just spoken with one of my favorite people at Agency X and he'd asked if we could make some last minute adjustments to the schedule of extremely important meetings. Assistant B was incompetent and/or unhelpful and he knew I was an executive now, but could I just help him figure this out given that it was so important? I adored this person and for him, I said of course I would try and that it shouldn't be an issue.


 I knocked on another exec's door to check in with him quickly. His assistant was nowhere to be found and I needed answers fast. Someone else answered the door and looked at me like I had 10 heads - as though I had interrupted a world peace summit rather than someone talking about some tv show. There were two other people in Exec's office who just stood there, staring at me in the doorway. Me, being...well...me, I poked my head deeper in to ask Exec my extremely quick and fairly important (as in, important in the world of television important) question. Exec was on the phone. Having anticipated this, I shot him a slip of paper with my yes or no question written on it. He read the paper, looked at me and frantically started mouthing things to me while making wild bird like gestures. I stared at him. I had absolutely NO idea what he was trying to tell me or what he was trying to gesture about.  I took one more look at him, decided I was making some executive decisions, left the office, made a phone call and rushed to...the yoga class that was taking place in the middle of the office. Everyone was getting onto their mats and several people started running up to me asking questions, acting as though we were about to perform major surgery instead of change a meeting. A couple people seemed to feel that, with these last minute changes happening, I couldn't have possibly done my job right to begin with. And then, right as the yoga class was beginning, Exec came out and sat next to me and started whisper-yelling things in my ear. And then another one on the other side started doing the same thing as well. And as the yoga instructor began to tell everyone to close their eyes and breathe deeply, I started to cry. Everyone else's chests rose and fell as they inhaled and exhaled. Mine just shook with tears. And like a great shot in a movie, the camera closed in on me and then rose about the room - everyone else a blur as my little body sat in the center, trying to understand what had gone wrong after years of running around like a crazy person trying to take care of every little thing that needed taking care of, tears silently streaming down my cheeks.

And then I woke up. 

I didn't fall back to sleep right away after that dream. I sat and thought about it for a minute.Up until the yoga class, everything about the dream had been totally real. And the berating that I took in the yoga class, while exaggerated, was pretty accurate as well. I thought about the way people handed out judgement like chocolate in that office. (And I don't know about your office, but there's a loooooooooot of chocolate flying around the one I used to work in.) I thought about the way things often turned into accusations rather than questions when people didn't understand things. I thought about how many people operated on fear, how often people were disgruntled, how panicked they were to make a mistake, how rarely it felt like people were truly working together. I haven't been there in 3 1/2 weeks. And I have to say, I'm feeling pretty great. I don't know what the dream meant, but it sure as hell made a lot of sense to me. 

Do things happen for a reason? I don't know the true answer to that. I know that personally, I believe that they do.  I believe there's something to be learned from every situation. I believe that something better is always there if you can just let yourself see it. 

Happy New Year. 2009 is going to be a fabulous year. I can just feel it. 

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:41 AM 0 comments  

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