On my first, technical, Mother’s Day, I was about 36 weeks pregnant with my daughter. I remember feeling torn between celebrating and not, mostly because I was pretty anxious with my first pregnancy and didn’t want anything to jinx it. My all-knowing husband was aware of my feelings and when I made a passing comment to him as to why he didn’t get me a card he echoed my sentiments to the effect of “I figured you wouldn’t want to celebrate just yet.” To be fair, there was enough celebrating the pending arrival of the first grandchild.
When I was born, and until I was 19, I was lucky enough to have all four of my grandparents and a great grandmother. Now I’m a third through my lifetime and my father’s mother is my only remaining grandparent. She is one of the most incredible women I know – she will be 93 this year, still lives on her own, and still works (because she wants to!). She has a more active social life than me and she is not slowing down any time soon.
A lot of things have transpired in the weeks since my last post.
I gave birth to our son! It was a wondrous experience and he’s brought an enormous amount of joy to our family.
The Cubs won the World Series (!!!), 108 years after our last championship. What a tremendously exciting series to watch, and the buzz and energy following was a great diversion from the day-to-day.
And this past week, as you may have heard, Hillary Clinton won the popular vote for the Presidential nomination but lost in electoral votes, giving Donald Trump the title of President-elect. (This isn’t an anti-Trump rant, so please try to make it to the end if you can.)
I want to write posts about all three of these things, but since my emotions today are closely tied to the election results I will do that first. Other posts will come when I have a spare minute to write (which clearly I haven’t had in over a month).
Five and a half years ago, I was in the throes of wedding planning. I am a planner and organizer at heart, plus a crafter and doer and an “I can do it all myself-er.” That makes for a bit of a stressful time when putting everything together for your big day.
In one of the hundreds of blogs I visited during those planning days, I came across a bit of advice I have not yet forgotten. It’s changed my perspective and the way I handle new situations. It’s short, simple, easy to remember, and something I keep in my back pocket as a mantra that I’ve used handfuls of times since I first read it.
“You are not the first person to ______.”
My grandfather passed away March 11. It wasn’t unexpected, as he had been battling a stomach/bile duct cancer for almost two years, but it was still painful to have that realization wash over me. I always wondered how I would find out – would my grandmother call? My dad? My mom? But in this instance, I knew almost immediately. My aunts, my parents, and I were on a group text for weeks talking about his condition and the almost daily progress/decline. On March 10th he was moved into hospice and we were told to expect one to two weeks given his condition. The next day it was one to two days. And within one to two hours, he was gone.
It’s 9pm on New Year’s Day, and I must say I had “resolved” once or twice in my own head (never committed in writing or verbally) that I would write a post today, and perhaps write them more frequently. And yes, it’s still today, but it’s late. And I’m multi-tasking. But a post about resolutions doesn’t have the same meaning if it comes out on the second, does it?
Last week, after our trip to the library for a little same-age interaction, my daughter and I ran some errands. The last place we stopped was the grocery store.
I don’t typically go to this grocery store so I’m not familiar with the layout. I had to spend a little more time paying attention to where I was going and what I was looking for. Luckily, I wasn’t in my usual fast-paced rat-race through the aisles.