Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

This Time It’s Personal

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My posts have been sparse and a little on the light side lately. I’ve experienced blog burn out before and taken blogging breaks. I’ve even experienced writer’s block, but this is different.

This time it’s personal.

Where have I been you ask?

I promised myself to take some of the pressure off during the month of August.

I told myself I needed focus on something other than my (in)fertility, medications, hormone levels, doctor’s appointments and marking days on the calendar.

I wanted wear little to no make-up, let my hair dry naturally, throw on a baseball cap and s l o w down, get back in touch with myself and my family and friends and just be for a while.

Relaxing is so hard for me and like many of you, I struggle with being present, being truly in the moment and realizing that so much of what I actually need is in the simple things; a wag of a new puppy’s tail, my son’s face lighting up as he gets the last puzzle piece to fit, the satisfying feeling of sweat dripping down my back, belly laughs and good cries.

So far I’m pleased with my progress…

My husband and I celebrated our five year anniversary by spending the weekend in San Francisco. We rented Segways, walked across the Golden Gate Bridge and enjoyed some fabulous dinners. A big huge thank you to my in-laws for keeping Lucas while we did so.

We’ve been having fun getting acquainted with our new puppy, Charlie Pasta!

I’ve been living deadline free, having quit my freelance job the end of July.

I took Lucas on a trip to Santa Barbara to visit with high school friends, a couple I hadn’t seen in a dozen years. We picked up right where we left off, which is the great thing about old friendships!

This trip also marked my first time taking Lucas in a pool by myself. It was challenging at first, but a huge success. He is such a fish and we had a blast!

I have been staying up too late to read rather than play on my phone or struggle to pump out a blog post and after a mandatory three month hiatus, I have picked up my hot yoga classes again.

I’m spending more time outside and soaking up what is left of summer. There have been trips to the library in search of books about dinosaurs, many rounds of Go Fish, lots of pretend play, several hours logged in front of the TV watching the XXX Summer Games and Scooby Doo, countless walks around the neighborhood with our new furry friend and last week I was able to spend three glorious hours at the Getty Center by MYSELF.

All I have wanted to do is spend time with my sweet family, practice living in the moment and keep cool! I hope you are doing much of the same.

I’ll be back soon.

When was the last time you took a blogging break? I highly recommend it!

Incidentally, today marks my third year blogging. Ironic, no?

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I Heart Teachers!

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I grew up with teachers.

My parents were educators, who worked in American international schools for 28 years and prior to that on an American Indian reservation in Arizona. Their careers spanned 35 years and if I learned anything from them, it was how much they enjoyed their jobs, how hard they worked and how dedicated they were. They loved children and were good at their jobs.

I spent many weekends in either one of their classrooms “playing teacher” as they worked on their lesson plans in preparation for the week ahead. As I got older, I was recruited to help cut out letters, assemble packets, test markers, organize books, try out a new project or craft or run dittos (remember those?).

It was fun being at school after hours and hanging out with teachers when they weren’t in “teacher mode”. Having them over for dinner or vacationing with them and their families humanized them. They were my parents friends and once I became an adult, they were mine too.

I’ve always thought teachers were amazing, selfless people. I realize now that I am a parent, how much faith and trust we put in our children’s teachers and I know that our education system is suffering in this country and our teachers aren’t paid enough for what they do. Many of our classrooms are overcrowded and special needs aren’t being met.

Nevertheless, teachers are the people who educate us and give us the vital knowledge which we need to live our lives. They encourage, support, discipline and prepare us for the road ahead and they deserve a time for us to show them our appreciation.

Teacher Appreciation Week is this week (May 7-11) and it is the perfect opportunity for us to show teachers how thankful we are for their support.

Demonstrate how much the teachers in your life mean to you by saying thank you to the people who work really hard so that we can have a better future.

Lucas took Starbucks gift cards to preschool yesterday for each of his teachers. The smiles on their faces told me that they would be put to good use.

Have you done anything special for the teachers in your life?

For some simple and inexpensive gift ideas, visit my post today on Smart Mom Style.

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You Know You’re A Writer When…

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A journalism professor I had in college said writers write to get it out of their head. I have never forgotten that and I firmly believe it.

My brain is a constant mess of words and phrases, ideas and thoughts all bouncing around trying to find a way out. Sometimes they escape and make sense, often they do not. Sometimes the timing is off, the words are still marinating and not yet ready to be revealed. Sometimes it feels like I reveal too much.

I want to blog.

I need to write.

I need to post something on my blog.

When am I going to write?

I have this treasured space, Letters For Lucas that I have created for my son (and sanity) and I get to connect with all of you and share some of my inner most thoughts and then I have my amazing freelance work with Smart Mom Style, which is very fulfilling and lets me explore an array of topics, a complete departure from Letters For Lucas.

The scene is set.

The house is quiet.

I have a full battery on my lap top.

The lighting is perfect.

I’m in my favorite space to write.

All I have to do is write and all of a sudden I need a snack.

I post here 3-4 times per week and on Smart Mom Style 5 days per week. That’s a lot of writing. Only, I don’t write every day. I can’t. I don’t have the time.

I dictate and jot down notes and ideas but real writing only happens once or twice a week, if I’m lucky. I spend a lot of time editing, fact checking and staring at a blinking cursor. Patiently waiting for ideas to come to me.

I have been writing Letters For Lucas for three years in August and I am very proud of my work here. Some posts more than others. I am NEVER at a loss for words. I have dozens of drafts and hundreds of ideas, just waiting to be flushed out.

This is my 800th post.

It took me a long time to consider myself a “writer” and not just a blogger. In fact, I still have trouble saying it out loud, but when other writers I have grown to respect and admire tell me so, I start to believe it. When other writers seek my opinion or ask me to review their drafts, I start to believe it.

It’s frustrating as all get out sometimes, but I enjoy writing and it has become a part of me that I could never give up. So, here’s to the next 800 posts!

Do you consider yourself a blogger or a writer? Are they one and the same?

“The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.”  – Anaïs Nin

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Women Speak

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One in every eight couples in the United States are affected by infertility.

Nearly six million families are childless. Some chose this option, but many more long for children that never come.

According to the National Survey of Family Growth, more than 1 million couples grapple with secondary infertility, a couple’s inability to conceive a baby, even though they’ve had at least one child in the past.

My husband and I are one of these couples. Since Lucas’ first birthday, I have had five miscarriages, one with the aid of IVF treatment.

Six months ago I apprehensively attended to my first RESOLVE support group meeting and after hearing the stories of each brave and compassionate woman around the table, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Here were women, just like me that are angry, sad, confused and longing to have a child, their first or another. 

I had made new friends.

One of those new friends was Annette Prieto-Llopis, who has written a wonderful piece on CNN.com’s In America today called, The unheard voice of infertility: A Latina’s story.

Annette introduced me to Molly Nichols, better known as Inspirational Mama and from there I learned about Women Speak. In recognition of National Infertility Awareness Week (April 22-28), Molly is hosting Women Speak this Wednesday, April 25 in Orange County, California.

This event will bring together those who have been touched by infertility and will be filled with support, education and inspiration.

Molly has asked me to be a panel member at Women Speak and I am very excited (and more than a little nervous) about sharing my secondary infertility story. When she asked me to be a part of her event, I did not hesitate. I believe the more we talk and share and learn from one another, the better our experience will be. If my story, my voice helps just one other women who is suffering with infertility then I’ll be happy.  

Infertility is nothing to be ashamed of.

Click on image for more information.

If you live in Orange County and are suffering with infertility or know someone that is, I encourage you to attend this important event.

Infertility causes stress, sadness, frustration and loss for many couples. If you and your spouse are facing this condition, please learn all you can through reputable resources and organizations, such as RESOLVE, the National Infertility Association and attain the support you need to make the best decisions for you and your family.

Trust me when I tell you, you are not alone.

You are among friends.

A version of this post is also on Smart Mom Style today.

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Raising Confident Girls

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I am the mother to a young son, but I am a woman and I was a daughter.

I think about having a daughter a lot and quite frankly it scares the hell out of me.

I wonder, how I will I raise a confident, well-rounded, strong, independent (but not too much so) woman?

While I had wonderful and positive parental role models growing up, I did not have the greatest relationship with my mother.

I was told how beautiful I was all the time by both parents and everyone around me and I learned to believe it, but I wish that my parents, in particular my mother, had tried to get to know me better and focus more attention on my other positive characteristics when I was growing up: I could sing, I was a thoughtful friend, very organized, always loved to read, excelled in English Lit, History, French and later Spanish, I was active in student government, landed the lead in school plays and always a starter on school sports teams. But because those traits were never highlighted, it took me many years and a lot of soul searching to realize there is much more to me than my looks.

We put a lot of emphasis in our society on appearance and it’s really a shame….

To read more on how I believe we can raise confident girls, please visit my post today on Smart Mom Style.

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24 Envelopes

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Watching movies has always been my way to relax and I try to see all the latest ones, usually over the course of a few nights because I can’t stay awake from start to finish, so I adore red carpet events.

I love the Golden Globes, Emmys, Grammys, SAG Awards and the coup de grace…the Oscars, my favorite of all the awards shows!

I have always been the girl captivated in front of the TV, ballot in hand, watching the arrivals to see what everyone is wearing, who’s with whom, the extravagant and eye popping jewels, the hair, the makeup, all of it!

Whether it’s rude and ridiculous (Bridesmaids), dark humor amidst family drama (The Descendents), or the utterly sublime (The Artist), Oscar night is a celebration of cinema and all the reasons we love Hollywood…

To read more on my Oscar take, please visit my post today, 24 Envelopes on Smart Mom Style.

 

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