Despite multiple promises to myself about keeping up with blogging, and keeping a list of entries that I want to write, things have fallen by the wayside and I find myself playing catch-up again.
I makes me sad when I get so far behind in blogging, because I really enjoy writing - it is a good outlet for me. Organizing emotions on a page and making sense of things, ordering them... very therapeutic.
So, a quick update:
We have finally found our groove as a family of four. And it feels pretty cool.
We finally have two kids who sleep through the night. And that is even cooler.
Caleb and Chloe have both discovered that the other one isn't leaving. Some moments of cool, some moments of arrhgghhhhhh!!!!!
We are working on sharing. We are working on being patient. We are trying to remember how to discipline a 13 month old, but I don't remember Caleb being this rambunctious.
And I, I am working on controlling my temper. I am working on controlling my voice. And I started running.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Accomplishments
When I was young, I used to measure the success of a day on how well recess went: if we played Gummi Bears or HeMan, it was a good day. If we had to play Smurfs, or (ugh) house with boys, it was a bad day.
When I was in seventh and eighth grade, success was not having any of the popular kids upset with me. I so desperately wanted to be cool and liked...
(There is a part of me that wishes I could travel back in time and show my 12 year old self what my life is like now. I wish I could tell that girl that being "cool" isn't as important as being kind. It would have saved me a lot of grief in my later years.)
In high school, a successful day was catching the eye of *that boy*. You know who I'm talking about: the guy whose name you scribbled all over your diary, the one that made you turn 12 shade of red when he caught you staring across the cafeteria, and the one that still gives you a little smile when you think about him (unless of course, you had extremely poor taste in men, and then you might cringe a little...)
When I finally went to university, a successful day was making to all of my classes, going to work, and preparing a meal that was edible. Studying was a bonus.
From July until October of 1998, a successful day was making my mom laugh.
In Grad school a successful day was all in the adaptation: adapting to a new culture, a new climate and new roommates. Sure, there was studying to be done, but it wasn't the mundane studying that I had in undergrad, because I knew that everything I was learning was going to be put to use in my career and that in itself was fulfilling.
Clinicals: a successful day was not crying. Especially not in front of my clinical instructor.
Parenting has brought about a whole new perspective and an entirely different idea of what success is: Some days it is about survival. Some days it is watching your child do something for the first time. Some days it is about learning to hold back. Some days are about how to hold on tighter. Some days are about the moments that you thought parenting was all about. Some days are just a success because you only sent your kid for 10 time outs.
Today, my success stems from realizing that forming these little minds into productive members of society is an accomplishment. Even if today the only lesson learned is how to share the MagnaDoodle.
When I was in seventh and eighth grade, success was not having any of the popular kids upset with me. I so desperately wanted to be cool and liked...
(There is a part of me that wishes I could travel back in time and show my 12 year old self what my life is like now. I wish I could tell that girl that being "cool" isn't as important as being kind. It would have saved me a lot of grief in my later years.)
In high school, a successful day was catching the eye of *that boy*. You know who I'm talking about: the guy whose name you scribbled all over your diary, the one that made you turn 12 shade of red when he caught you staring across the cafeteria, and the one that still gives you a little smile when you think about him (unless of course, you had extremely poor taste in men, and then you might cringe a little...)
When I finally went to university, a successful day was making to all of my classes, going to work, and preparing a meal that was edible. Studying was a bonus.
From July until October of 1998, a successful day was making my mom laugh.
In Grad school a successful day was all in the adaptation: adapting to a new culture, a new climate and new roommates. Sure, there was studying to be done, but it wasn't the mundane studying that I had in undergrad, because I knew that everything I was learning was going to be put to use in my career and that in itself was fulfilling.
Clinicals: a successful day was not crying. Especially not in front of my clinical instructor.
Parenting has brought about a whole new perspective and an entirely different idea of what success is: Some days it is about survival. Some days it is watching your child do something for the first time. Some days it is about learning to hold back. Some days are about how to hold on tighter. Some days are about the moments that you thought parenting was all about. Some days are just a success because you only sent your kid for 10 time outs.
Today, my success stems from realizing that forming these little minds into productive members of society is an accomplishment. Even if today the only lesson learned is how to share the MagnaDoodle.
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