quotes

My Blank Pages

Posted on January 10, 2015 Written by Tonya

Happy New Year! I hope your 2015 is off to a stupendous start.

Although I’m not quite sure why, I just renewed my domain name.

I only blogged 83 times last year.

83.

Pathetic, right?

Especially for someone who has so much to say.

Blogging has changed a lot in the last six years but my reasons for doing it have not. It’s primarily for myself, to keep family and friends updated and for my children to read someday.

I had planned to share photos of our Christmas (Lola’s first!), a 2014 recap and my New Year resolutions (read and write MORE!!), but I doubt that’s going to happen.

I’m sitting here staring at a blinking cursor and thinking about all the blank pages ahead of me, all the words I will use to fill 2015. I have high hopes of being more disciplined and consistent with my writing and actually making some of the blog post ideas I have a reality. I look forward to confidently submitting my writing and on the days I’m not writing or fretting over writing, I hope I’m living in the moment.

I have a full and very rich life and my blank pages will fill themselves.

Eventually.

I hope you will stick around for the ride, no matter how infrequent.

Being Busy

Posted on November 6, 2014 Written by Tonya

Before I even got out of bed the other morning, I reached for my phone and cancelled lunch plans, a gym date, movie and dinner with a friend and a doctor’s appointment. I also decided I wasn’t going to pick up the dry cleaning, go to the super market, touch a stitch of laundry or buy the three birthday presents we need for parties this weekend.

I just didn’t feel like running all over town.

I didn’t want any of those obligations.

I needed a day of calm.

When I announced my cancellations to my husband, he asked if I was feeling okay.

I love being busy. I think it’s how I operate best. Under pressure, with To Do list in hand, scurrying from here to there, seeking tasks and accomplishments, fitting everyone and everything in.

My family and I are extraordinarily busy and always on the go, but we juggle our multiple stresses with ease (some days more so than others).

“I’m so busy” is a phrase I hear and use too often and I worry… am I glorifying busy?

There’s no medal for the busiest person and it has taken me a long time to realize that my time is valuable and it is okay to say no. I don’t have to be the first one to RSVP yes to an event or volunteer for something I really don’t want to do. And it’s okay to cancel plans.

Even if it’s the day of.

No is a powerful word when you are trying to tame the habit of being busy all the time.

Down time is SO underrated, especially once you have children and having a little free time isn’t a bad thing.

Instead of all the things I had planned to do that day, I took Lola for a long walk, we spent some time at a park and then picked up Lucas from school. The three of us shared an afternoon snack of crackers and cheese and then rushed off to his karate lesson.

We were late.

For me, for you, for everyone:

Loss Is Loss Is Loss: A Book Review Of Rare Bird

Posted on September 30, 2014 Written by Tonya

As soon as Anna Whiston-Donaldson’s book, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love arrived in my mailbox I started reading it. I literally ripped it out of the manila envelope it arrived in as I walked up to my house and started with chapter one entitled, You’re Braver than You Think.

Something stopped me.

I knew full well what the book was about; Anna’s son Jack died in a flash flood while playing with neighborhood friends in the rain. It is a tragedy that is almost inconceivable to consider. Parents should never have to bury their children. Ever.

There was a part of me that wondered if maybe I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to begin such a heavy story, one that was sure to cause me to draw parallels to my own grief and loss and pull me into a depression I didn’t have either the time or inclination to revisit. I wasn’t ready to go to that place in that moment.

That was the end of July.

By September, I had somehow successfully managed to avoid reading any reviews on Rare Bird or discussing the book with anyone who had already read it.

I picked it up again and finished two days later, on the third anniversary of Jack’s death. Ironic, right? I e-mailed Anna immediately to tell her how much I loved her memoir, how much I appreciated her tender words, full of wisdom and grace, beauty, love, pain and hope.

I wanted her to know that I learned something about grief by reading Rare Bird. I realized that the thing about grief is once you’ve experienced that kind of loss it’s always with you and takes very little to conjure. It could be a quote, a piece of music, a passage in a book, walking by a stranger in the supermarket that smells like someone you lost or simply sharing your grief story with others. It can happen at any time and without any warning.

Through my personal grief journey I have discovered that grief is a tricky beast and everyone experiences it differently. So much of what Anna shares I felt when I lost my parents in a tragic, fluke accident way too soon. As Anna says, “loss is loss is loss”.

Rare Bird isn’t just a memoir. It is a beautifully written handbook for anyone who is grieving, who will grieve, or who will be there for someone who is grieving, but don’t just take my word for it, her book has already been praised by The Washington Post and Publishers Weekly.

Listen to Anna tell you about her book in her own words:

Disclaimer: I received a copy of Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love to assist in my review. No other compensation was received. All opinions expressed are my own.

The Great Debate [In My Head]

Posted on September 16, 2014 Written by Tonya

I hear Lola stir in her crib upstairs just as I’m half way through an article on the Today Parents Website. She’s cooing and talking joyfully at first and then her pleads became more urgent.

I know as I climb the stairs to her room I’ll never finish the article. I’ll never get back to any of the tabs open on my laptop. At least not today. I’m excited to see my baby as she has been napping for over an hour and we can now take our daily walk and play and look at books together but I’m also dismayed that the quiet me time I had been enjoying for the last 90 minutes is now over. I didn’t accomplish nearly as much as I had hoped. Damn it! Why didn’t I spend more time writing?!

One of the things I have tried to instill in Lucas is this mantra:

Chores before play, put away one game before setting up another, errands before park, etc.

I first heard it two years before I became a mother in the 2007 movie, The Great Debaters with Denzel Washington. I liked it then and love it now that I have children. I’ve also tried to follow it myself and it seems to work (most of the time) with my son.

My days are long and start the second my feet hit the floor. Full of tasks I have to do…

Make beds.

Make breakfasts, lunch, snacks, bottles.

Care for the dog.

Lay out clothes.

Change the baby.

Pick up stray socks, dirty bibs, Lego.

Assist Lucas as he packs his backpack.

Load the car.

It’s no different in your house.

Mornings are particularly and notoriously busy for households with children, trying to get everyone what they need to start the day.

A mom’s “have to do’s” last All. Day. Long. As soon as one need is met, it is followed up with another and another and another. And even our free time is not our own because when the kids are in school or napping is when the real work happens. I mean, who can sweep the floor with an adorable seven-month-old scooting around or an anxious Kindergartener ready to play another round of UNO? I certainly can’t.

So, alas… the things I want to do fall by the wayside. I make sure to exercise five days a week because if I don’t, I start to get twitchy. But apart from that, all I want to do lately is write. Writing is tricky, I can’t just sit down at my desk and write, I have to first peruse the Internet, respond to an e-mail, pay a bill, place a Diapers.com order, take a Buzz Feed quiz, get lost in the vortex that is Facebook.

I must tell myself every morning: After the kids are in bed and dinner is cleaned up and put away, I’ll stay up late and write.

And every night I crash within minutes of my children or I fall into bed too exhausted to do anything but exchange a few words with my husband and watch another episode of Chopped while I play Words With Friends.

Sigh! It’s the great debate in my head these days… when to write. Not what to write, just when?!?!

I was on a roll the other day and considered giving Lola a piece of paper to keep her occupied for a few minutes. And then I thought better and got down on the floor with her and worked on spit bubbles and mouth noises. It was time better spent, but my head is on overdrive and I must find some hours in the day to devote to writing.

Do you struggle with this too? When do you find the time to do the things you’re passionate about?

A Good Cry

Posted on July 17, 2014 Written by Tonya

Have you ever had one of those days (or weeks) when nothing is really wrong yet nothing is really right?

It’s hard to describe.

You continue to go through the motions and you’re content and things throughout the day make you smile, but there’s still a pit in your stomach, a lump in your throat.

You feel… off.

You have a lot on your mind and it’s weighing heavy on your heart. The words aren’t there, just the feelings and your thoughts range from everything will be okay to it’s so awful.

Maybe it’s a lack of sleep or an overwhelming to do list, feeling misunderstood and under appreciated, a devastating news story you read about, a child that refuses to stay little, a friend that has disappointed you forcing you to see them in a whole new light, being the recipient of a kind and generous gesture, worried about another friend’s health prognosis and overall well being, learning that a family member has died, a combination of all of the above.

Whatever it is, you’re on the verge of tears.

Stress eating and a shopping spree don’t help, nor does wine or a long walk. That’s when you know it’s really bad.

Suddenly and mercifully, when you least expect it, you let it go.

All of it.

Unprompted by a song on the radio or a Kleenex commercial on TV, you cry.

A good cry.

A healing cry.

Release.

Clarity.

When was the last time you had a good cry?

The Day Lola Was Born

Posted on July 15, 2014 Written by Tonya

Babies are such a nice way to start people. – Don Herold

I love hearing how humans enter the world, each story is unique and very special. I hope you don’t mind me sharing Lola’s birth story.

I had taken Charlie for a 3-mile walk on the morning of Thursday, January 30 and then had a fetal monitoring appointment. After 33 weeks I was going twice a week.

During this particular appointment, Lola’s heart rate dipped six times, my blood pressure was (and had been) on the high side, plus an ultrasound revealed that she had turned around again (the first time had been at 35 weeks and I was able to turn her around on my own without medical intervention) so the doctor insisted on sending me to the Labor and Delivery ward at the hospital.

I hadn’t showered and I had the dog in the car were my first thoughts immediately after, holy shit, I’m having the baby today! After three and half years of waiting and nine months of keeping our miracle safe and sound tucked inside my belly, this is how it’s going to happen. After months of trying to predict and control birthing day, now I know. Okay. I can do this. Right?

With my mind racing, I started crying uncontrollably because I knew my baby would be delivered via C-section and that was the last thing I wanted. I wrote about my ideal birth plan here.

I called my husband from the car and I was shaking, had a hard time speaking but managed to convey that I would take the dog home and keep him posted. I had a feeling I’d get to L&D and everything would be fine and I would be sent home or we’d be having a baby later that day. He told me to take the dog to our favorite local doggie daycare instead and then we would have one last thing to worry about. He would standby for more news and in the meantime wrap up things at work so that he could meet me at the hospital. We agreed not to alert family just yet.

Against doctor’s orders after the doggie day care I also stopped by our house. I had to pee, it was on the way and there were a couple of things I wanted to do, like find a big red ribbon to put around the three carefully wrapped presents (Angry Birds Go! Game, I Spy! Bingo and Hi Ho Cherry-O!) that “the baby” would be giving her big brother once they met. I also wanted to make sure my slippers and make up bag were in my suitcase. I know, I know, I wasn’t in my right mind and needless to say, no make up was worn during my four day hospital stay.

After several hours and running down my phone battery not once, but twice, being adjusted and readjusted, the baby’s heart was fine and my blood pressure was normal. She was still in a breech position when my OB called me around 3:00. She was relieved when I told her that I’d have a C-section and asked if we could do it that evening. I knew if I went home I’d be wrought with worry and unable to sleep. Plus, at this late stage of the game (one day past my due date) I didn’t think I could turn the baby around again.

After Todd picked up Lucas from preschool, he brought him to the hospital to say hello. We discussed names together as a family and Lucas, who had been dead set on Lola since we told him we were expecting and refused to entertain anything else was now suddenly open to middle names. He had selected a middle name too, but was now eager to hear our choices. When talking about his day at school he mentioned his friend Paigey. Paige, but everyone calls her Paigey, which is just about the cutest things ever. Todd and I looked at each other and that was it. Lola Paige. It also helped that Todd has a close friend named Paige.

A C-section was scheduled for 7:00 PM and leading up to it the anesthesiologist visited me at least three times that I remember, maybe more and reviewed the entire process start to finish, patiently answered my questions and tried his best to reassure me.

It was almost 8:00 when I was finally taken to the OR and Lola was born at 8:19. It was quick but I was terrified and hated every moment of the procedure, hated not being able to feel anything, hated not being in control, hated being pinned down like Jesus on the cross and I cried throughout the procedure.

I knew it was what was best for the baby but it wasn’t how I had envisioned bringing this child into the world. I was relieved Todd could be with me (Lucas was at home with our good friends, Ed and Carol) and really happy that it was my OB to perform the procedure, but I still hated not being able to feel anything!

It turns out that Lola wasn’t breech by the time I was in the operating room (she had turned around again in less than an hour!!) but had somehow put two knots in the umbilical cord, so we would have ended up in the OR anyway.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her once I saw her and one of the (many) advantages of a C-section is that baby’s heads are perfectly round. She was beautiful. We all thought she looked just like Lucas when he was born, but a female version… daintier and smaller. It’s hard to put into words what it was like to finally meet my daughter and makes me tear up even now as I type this. I was elated and thankful and so relieved. Finally she was here. Finally.

My recovery was rough and very unexpected. I was able to stand up by the next morning after the catheter was removed, but remained in pain the entire hospital stay and for weeks after. It hurt when I laughed or sneezed or coughed or moved in any way. I was sure every time I looked down at my belly that my insides would be spilling out, but that never happened. I was so grateful when I could finally walk around the ward, making it one loop was a triumph!

Lucas met his sister Friday morning and was wonderful with her, albeit timid and shy. I had dreamed about their first encounter but had zero expectations. He held her right away and offered her kisses and tiny soft pats on the head. It made me deliriously happy to see them together.

Todd stayed at the hospital with me two nights and my sister one night. We were getting to own our baby as went about diaper changes and feedings. We were mesmerized by her alert alien-like eyes and tiny fingers.

I was able to come home the afternoon of Super Bowl Sunday (Seattle Seahawks, 43 vs. the Denver Broncos, 8) but I wish I could have stayed one more night.

I was very emotional as we took the elevator downstairs and then running into our fertility doctor in the parking lot was completely surreal. She said she hardly ever comes to that hospital and what are the chances?! I was face-to-face with the very woman responsible for this tiny miracle. It was too much. I was so overcome and couldn’t stop crying. It was a beautiful moment and one that I will treasure always.

Huddled around the TV in our living room, we all paid way more attention to the bundle in my arms than the game. The house was full of bouquets of carefully placed flower vases, thanks to my mother-in-law. We had a full house and full hearts. Looking back all I can remember is the pain I felt in my abdomen but the peace in my heart.

The loves of my life!

If you are interested in reading Lucas’s birth story, you can find it here.

Vacation

Posted on May 15, 2014 Written by Tonya

I have sipped wine at Les Deux Magots cafe in Paris, climbed a pyramid in Egypt, laid like broccoli pool side in Hawaii, marveled at the Grand Canyon, sounded like a fool using my broken Spanish in Cabo San Lucas and got caught in the freezing rain with my three year old in Vancouver.

Growing up overseas gave me the travel bug and I have always loved it! I believe wanderlust is a wonderful thing. But vacations can be different and I’ve taken many kinds of trips… there are girl’s trips, couples retreats, action-packed tourist attractions rich with history, two-fer destinations, where you get to see family and friends but also the opportunity to explore a new place, road trips, camping excursions and good old fashioned long weekends.

Who doesn’t love vacation? If we are lucky we get away a couple of times a year and it’s never enough. Vacation recharges us, makes the everyday bearable, gives us something to look forward to, get in shape for and save up for. Vacation is glorious!

13 Things I Love About Vacation (in no particular order):

1. No schedule.

2. No laundry.

3. No meal planning, grocery shopping or cooking!

4. Hotels.

5. Room service (on occasion).

6. The experience to see, do and try new things (food, culture, environment or activity).

7. Being on vacation means my family is all together and we’re bonding.

8. Getting to meet new people and possibly making lifelong friends.

9. Procuring souvenirs or small trinkets that will forever remind us of our time away.

10. Making lasting memories.

11. The opportunity to take great photographs.

12. Being out of touch for a while. I don’t know about you, but I rarely watch the news or pay attention to headlines when I’m away from home and I try to unplug too.

13. Finding inspiration to create, write, laugh, let go and just be.

Taken Labor Day weekend, 2013 – La Jolla, California

I love this passage from Wanderlust For One:

Travel is not just recreation. It is re-creation. Through travel, I come face to face with the unknown and the unfamiliar disrupts the familiar. Travel throws me off balance while helping me to find it again. It reawakens my childlike wonder and reaffirms my sense of self. Travel makes me approach my life with a fresh perspective. It deconstructs my cozy, comfortable existence and teaches me…

What do you love about vacation?

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop Prompt 2.) List 13 things you love about vacation.

Let Her Sleep…

Posted on April 24, 2014 Written by Tonya

Before Lola was born, Wednesday was one of my favorite days because it’s the only day Lucas doesn’t go to school and it was just us. Since Lola’s arrival, Wednesdays are tough, especially for her.

Poor girl is in and out of the car for big brother’s swim lessons, in and out of the car for his My Gym class; there’s lots of waiting around while he gets to have all the fun, she has her diapers changed in public restrooms, feedings on the go and put up with general chaos. I take her out of her car seat and she loves to watch him and everything else going on around us, but it’s not familiar surroundings and she fusses a lot.

Yesterday I made time for us to be home in middle of all of our Wednesday activities for a little while. Lucas played with Lego quietly and I did a few things around the house. Lola enjoyed scooting around (not quite able to roll over) on the guest bed cooing as happy as can be. I hung out with her for a while and then left for a few moments and returned to the most magical sight:

I don’t seek these moments out but when they find me, they take my breath away. After soaking it in I grabbed my camera.

I could not love this little girl more.

Two Heartbeats

Posted on January 17, 2014 Written by Tonya

Waking with a start at 1:18 AM, I am tangled up in sheets. I’m hot and breathless. I sigh heavily and then listen. The house is still. The bedroom window is cracked opened and I hear a car whiz down our street and the distant barking of a dog. Downstairs, I hear Charlie’s collar, but luckily he doesn’t respond to his canine cousin. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and my husband moans and asks if I’m okay. “Yep” is my only reply afraid to wake up too much.

I am up and need to pee.

I make my way to the bathroom in the dark, quickly wash my hands and find myself back in bed within minutes.

Finding a comfortable position is next to impossible so I toss and turn and try a few different pillow configurations but end up giving in and reaching for my phone on the nightstand. The illuminating light is too much so I quickly go into my Settings and turn it down.

I proceed to spend the next hour responding to text messages received the day before, cleaning up my e-mail In Box and playing 11 waiting Words With Friends games. I also check my calendar for the day ahead and get lost in daydreams of gorgeous decor, insightful quotes, scrumptious looking recipes and far away places on Pinterest. I contemplate heading to the couch in the playroom to read.

Suddenly I realize I am not alone. My husband is snoring rhythmically next to me, but there is someone else.

The middle of my body starts to slowly twitch and roll. I put my phone down and place both palms on my belly. It’s a wonderful and indescribable feeling. With less than two weeks left of this pregnancy, I know I will miss this feeling.

Soon my baby girl and I will no longer share heartbeats.

When You See A Parent Cry

Posted on October 22, 2013 Written by Tonya

Getting in and out of the car is an ordeal for me. I always have so much to carry; shoes and socks, sweatshirts, a lone water bottle, a snack wrapper, library books, school papers, my over-sized, over-stuffed way too heavy purse, my keys dangle from one finger, a bag of groceries is cutting off circulation at my elbow, a lunch box, dry cleaning, etc., etc.

Living on the third floor of an apartment building without an elevator and being almost 27 weeks pregnant, I tend to load up in order to eliminate the number of trips I make up and down. Once I’m home, all I want to do is relax.

This afternoon was no different, my arms, shoulders and hands were full, but Lucas insisted on my carrying his Cars case as well. It’s far too heavy for him and I prefer he is hands free climbing the steps. But, what’s one more thing for me to lug I thought. Only as I went to grab for it, the handle popped off and I banged my shin into the car.

Hard.

I tried to hold back my tears, but they came anyway. Seconds after it happened, my leg was already throbbing and turning black-and-blue.

Through tears of anger and pain I said that Daddy would get the case when he got home and shuffled Lucas and my loaded up self towards the stairs. I was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t think Lucas could see my crying eyes but after he asked quietly if I was alright, he said, “Mommy, I’ve only ever seen you cry one other time”.

I remembered the first time clearly. We were laying in bed together and he had asked if he could watch one of his shows and when I said no, he told me he hated me. It stung as if he had slapped me across the face. The tears were heartfelt and I asked him never to say that to me again and explained that he could be mad at me all he wanted, but I didn’t want to hear that again.

That episode clearly made a huge impact on him and scared him.

Crying is part of being human and having emotions that evoke reactions such as crying is completely normal. I believe children should never be afraid to express their emotions, whatever they may be.

I can recall witnessing my mother cry many times, typically when saying goodbye to me for a long stint or over a grossly overacted scene in a sappy movie. I’m the same way so I was surprised when Lucas claimed to have only seen me do it one other time. When going through fertility treatments, I cried often, but most definitely hid those tears from him because I didn’t have the words to explain why I was I was so sad. Thinking back, I should have said just that, “I’m sad”.

Never once did I see my father tear up. I suppose because men are suppose to be tough and brave and manly men. The truth is, it doesn’t make a person less of a man (or women) to cry.

What do you think, should parents let their children see them cry? Has your child ever seen you or your partner cry? Have you ever seen one of your parents cry?

By the way, my shin is fine.

My Blank Pages

Related Posts:

Being Busy

Related Posts:

Loss Is Loss Is Loss: A Book Review Of Rare Bird

Related Posts:

The Great Debate [In My Head]

Related Posts:

A Good Cry

Related Posts:

The Day Lola Was Born

Related Posts:

Let Her Sleep…

Related Posts:

Two Heartbeats

Related Posts:

When You See A Parent Cry

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

What I Write About