We signed up for our last IUI and that was almost 2 weeks ago. Tuesday is day 28. I'm over this whole thing. I'm ready for a new direction. This has been 6yrs of struggle and growth and faith and prayers and being told that I just need to relax. Oh, oh, wait, better yet . . . just adopt and then you'll get pregnant. As if someone else's baby could be our fertility doll??? A word of advice, if you don't know what to say then don't say anything other than, "I'm sorry" or "I'll pray" or even a vehement "Well, that sucks!" I'll take all of those.
However, the growth has been a blessing. In this trip, which I knew long ago that I would take, God has truly brought my husband and I much closer to each other, and more importantly, to Him. Would I volunteer for this struggle? Goodness NO! However, as with every hard earned wisdom comes the hindsight to know that it's been, not only in His will, but in our best interests. Thru this we've become a team. We've become the "One" that was mentioned in our vows. The "One" that is mentioned in Genesis. "For they shall leave their parents and become as one" Gen 2:24. That is a precious and irreplaceable gift. If I don't have a swollen belly to caress than this is a more than acceptable option.
I must say, tho, that the fertility/medical field is a strange one when it comes to faith. Their faith is in themselves and what they can do. I have years of ugly interactions with Drs and nurses that this was not a new revelation. Still, when dealing with the prospect of a 'not so pleasent' ending you would assume that these Drs, these 'bringer of life', would want their patients to have some kind of foundation that would allow this whole process to not tear up their lives. These medical people tell me to relax and not think about it but then at all points I'm to stay in contact with them to make appointments on certain days and medicines on other days. How does that leave me a day to myself? Unless I had something else to anchor me what was stopping me from focusing all my thoughts and energy on my uterus and all our attempts. What's to keep me from feeling like an utter failure every time I had a Day 1. Seriously medical people? Do you want us infertile women so close to the brink of a break down that we only see you and what you can do for us and we aren't allowed to see just how full life is, with our without a pregnancy and baby? How is that in our best interest for the entirety of our life? Why do you stand in shock and speechless when I say that we trust God to be in charge of all this. Do you feel like I'm not giving you your "due"? That I don't have as much trust in your abilities as you do? Get over yourself. You are a seasonal presense in my life and I am quite aware of that.
So, instead of sitting back and watching the calendar and allowing myself to settle into a darkness (6yrs of TCC can suck the very joy out of your every day), I prayed and trusted that God would do what He thought best for us. My whole existence isn't my uterus or my menstrual cycle and it isn't my job or my house or my family. It's a combination of all those things and how God weaves them into my story. MY story! God has a purpose for all of us and He has given us our own set of talents and weaknesses. My purpose and my talents and, yes, my weaknesses. Do I know what they are? Some, not all. Do I know the path my life will take? Some but not all. Is it frustrating to not be able to see how things will turn out? Absolutely! But then I think of that Adam Sandler movie, "Click". If I can forget about how frustrating it is to not know every single moment that will happen in my life then there is so much joy in the journey.
To that end, at this moment I don't know what this cycle will bring. It's not finished yet. I do know that I am loved by my husband, my family, my friends and my God. Really, what more can I ask for?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Fear and winter
I was having a conversation with my husband and it really pricked my brain to get back up here and write something. I have been wanting to return to my blog and then I froze. A few friends mentioned that they read what I wrote and I freaked out. They didn't give me any feedback (thanks you guys, seriously, because I may have just shut this down entirely) but it was weird to find out that someone read my words. I really am good at math and I really enjoy Accounting. I get super excited when a bank rec works out, especially one that takes work and insane concentration. I'm the girl you want looking at your bank rec when you've screwed it up for the last 2 years. I have a knack!
I digress. Type A, first born girl comes along, smart and funny and is specifically good at math and science and hates writing papers and enjoys playing the piano. When you think of your child and how you want to encourage your child in a direction that will give them a career, well, it's easier to help your child find a career that will give them consistant work than it is to basically ask them to have to beg for every dollar they earn. I have plenty of musicians in my family and none of them are touring the country in a rock band or with some high end symphany. I totally understand. Accounting is stable and consistant. Accounting equates paychecks. Got it!
So, in my heart and mind are these ideas. These crazy ideas for stories or just a concept or a "lets make a story for the person in the car next to us because she already has our attention" because she's singing at the top of her lungs or she's pissed and putting on lipstick in her rear view mirror. Or whatever. It's a trick I use when I'm trying really hard to find something redeeming about someone who is really just annoying me! It helps me find mercy and calm down.
It's scary for me to type all this up and put it out there. Much more scary to put my creative ideas in print and put them out there. I have less than 8K words put down towards the NaNoWriMo project. However, I kind of scared myself. Once I put the initial idea down and started thinking about what would happen next, the ideas didn't just pop into my head but they started to roll out. I have a concept for this whole project and it's coming out into the paper. If there was some way to stay home tomorrow from work and just type it out and reach the 50K words, I would. Time isn't on my side for this but that's my fault for letting it scare me. I mean, no one has read what I've typed and I only just told my husband tonight that I was even trying for it.
The fear is parallizing and an incredible obstacle. It tells me that all those pictures in my head of succeeding will just lead me down a path that is unfamiliar to me and who knows if it pay the bills. See, I jump straight to a writing project to abandoning my accounting career to creating novels that no one will buy. I think that's part of our charm as first borns. We are able to see the beginning and the end. I think it's part of what helps us succeed in life. It's also what makes us neurotic. We can't just enjoy an idea and all it's possibilities. It's so hard for us to enjoy the moment. We are forever thinking ahead to what will happen 5 min from now, 8 hours from now, 2 weeks from now, 10 years from now. It makes for craziness!
Sometimes I'm my worst enemy and sometimes I'm my best friend.
The joy I want to feel brings warmth to me and a smile to my face. The fear brings a cold and ice and it stops my ideas and my positive thinking. Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm sure there are no less than 100 self help books out there that would tell me how allowing this fear will incapacitate my life. I get all that. However, when the ice really starts to freaze things it's not like it's a complete change in 2 minutes. It happens slowly and over time and you forget that those ideas were bouncy and happy and moved around and now they are stuck in the ice and don't move and just lay there. As if to mock me with their lack of moving. They can't go away because they are stuck in the ice. They can't morph into their full potential because they are stuck in the ice. They can't encourage me because . . . well, you get the idea. So, I decided that this was getting me no where. I told my husband about the writing project and that had an amazing effect. I know that I'm not going to ever get those 50K words down by Tuesday. However, releasing that information was like taking a chisel to the ice. Small cracks and some shifting of the water underneath meant that I felt like it was time to post a blog here. It also helped me feel like doing nothing tomorrow but type for the project. There are obligations and I doubt I'd get even 4hrs of typing in. I can type fast but not that fast!
Still, as a literal winter breaks in our atmosphere. I feel like spring may be around the corner in my head.
I digress. Type A, first born girl comes along, smart and funny and is specifically good at math and science and hates writing papers and enjoys playing the piano. When you think of your child and how you want to encourage your child in a direction that will give them a career, well, it's easier to help your child find a career that will give them consistant work than it is to basically ask them to have to beg for every dollar they earn. I have plenty of musicians in my family and none of them are touring the country in a rock band or with some high end symphany. I totally understand. Accounting is stable and consistant. Accounting equates paychecks. Got it!
So, in my heart and mind are these ideas. These crazy ideas for stories or just a concept or a "lets make a story for the person in the car next to us because she already has our attention" because she's singing at the top of her lungs or she's pissed and putting on lipstick in her rear view mirror. Or whatever. It's a trick I use when I'm trying really hard to find something redeeming about someone who is really just annoying me! It helps me find mercy and calm down.
It's scary for me to type all this up and put it out there. Much more scary to put my creative ideas in print and put them out there. I have less than 8K words put down towards the NaNoWriMo project. However, I kind of scared myself. Once I put the initial idea down and started thinking about what would happen next, the ideas didn't just pop into my head but they started to roll out. I have a concept for this whole project and it's coming out into the paper. If there was some way to stay home tomorrow from work and just type it out and reach the 50K words, I would. Time isn't on my side for this but that's my fault for letting it scare me. I mean, no one has read what I've typed and I only just told my husband tonight that I was even trying for it.
The fear is parallizing and an incredible obstacle. It tells me that all those pictures in my head of succeeding will just lead me down a path that is unfamiliar to me and who knows if it pay the bills. See, I jump straight to a writing project to abandoning my accounting career to creating novels that no one will buy. I think that's part of our charm as first borns. We are able to see the beginning and the end. I think it's part of what helps us succeed in life. It's also what makes us neurotic. We can't just enjoy an idea and all it's possibilities. It's so hard for us to enjoy the moment. We are forever thinking ahead to what will happen 5 min from now, 8 hours from now, 2 weeks from now, 10 years from now. It makes for craziness!
Sometimes I'm my worst enemy and sometimes I'm my best friend.
The joy I want to feel brings warmth to me and a smile to my face. The fear brings a cold and ice and it stops my ideas and my positive thinking. Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm sure there are no less than 100 self help books out there that would tell me how allowing this fear will incapacitate my life. I get all that. However, when the ice really starts to freaze things it's not like it's a complete change in 2 minutes. It happens slowly and over time and you forget that those ideas were bouncy and happy and moved around and now they are stuck in the ice and don't move and just lay there. As if to mock me with their lack of moving. They can't go away because they are stuck in the ice. They can't morph into their full potential because they are stuck in the ice. They can't encourage me because . . . well, you get the idea. So, I decided that this was getting me no where. I told my husband about the writing project and that had an amazing effect. I know that I'm not going to ever get those 50K words down by Tuesday. However, releasing that information was like taking a chisel to the ice. Small cracks and some shifting of the water underneath meant that I felt like it was time to post a blog here. It also helped me feel like doing nothing tomorrow but type for the project. There are obligations and I doubt I'd get even 4hrs of typing in. I can type fast but not that fast!
Still, as a literal winter breaks in our atmosphere. I feel like spring may be around the corner in my head.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Reasonable Hope
When you are TCC (trying to conceive) there is this funny little game you play with yourself to help you not break your own heart every month. You don't play it at first. At first you allow yourself the truest sense of hope every month. It's free and powerful and joyful and awesome. Every month you think, "I could be pregnant this month" and the emphasis is on the "COULD BE". There is the hope and the chance and the possibility of the "COULD BE". It sits in your heart and your head and you may eagerly await the pee stick if you get past a certain day on your luteal phase count. It can put a spring to your step or a smile on your face. You may start thinking of yourself in the sense of being a Mom because you COULD BE. Then, if you have a Day 1 (the start of your menstrual cycle), you are crushed and broken and suddenly you feel like you have lost your identity. After all, yesterday you could be a mom and today holds no such "could be"s for you.
I was blessed in that I knew many many years before I had ever met my husband, let alone try to get pregnant, that I may not be able to get pregnant. When I didn't follow my dr's advice, it wasn't because I didn't trust their medical opinion. It was because they were all suggesting that, out of fear of infertility, that I should grab the nearest sperm donor and get pregnant immediately. "Hey, you are a 20yr old college kid, forget all your life plans and get pregnant now so that when you are ready to have a husband and family and all that, well, you won't have missed out on getting pregnant and you can feel fulfilled in your life." I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of what I was told by many drs. Most of you know my enthusiasm towards the medical profession. Instead of working from a place of fear, I chose instead to believe that it's always God's plan and what's best for the kidlets that a child should be born in a happy and healthy 2 parent home. I chose to wait until I was married to start trying to get pregnant.
As with everything that has to do with my health, I had to fight the drs in order to be seen by a specialist. Then, it turns out that I was still only being given half the picture so I started reading up. So much information is available for us women and they never volunteer it in the schools or the drs office. Such a loss of time, precious time, since we weren't timing things correctly and didn't have a clue about the signals the body gives you that it's a great time for some private time with your husband! I have long suspected that drs get nervous when you know at least as much about your body as they are supposed to know. I'll make time to write about that in the near future.
So, for the past few months we've been trying Clomid. It's kind of crazy but my side effects have been pretty minimal. It's increased the number of eggs I'm going to ovulate that cycle but so far no one has gotten overly excited. I think that the size of the eggs are still not what they have been hoping to see. They even made me come in for the hormone blood workup I was avoiding during tax season. This month has been a crazy crazy time. Especially the last few weeks. Long story short, I felt certain that my stress levels were high enough that I may be delaying ovulation this cycle. I warned the Dr about that when I went in for my ultrasound. I didn't want her to give me their "Worried eyes". Today was a new Dr so I didn't know what to expect. However, she got all excited when she found my first ovary. A really good size egg and a smaller one. Hurray!! When she glided over to the other ovary she got even more excited!! At this point even I'm getting a little excited. She found a bigger egg on the other ovary, along with a smaller one. She was super impressed that I had an egg that size considering how far along I am in the cycle.
For about 30 minutes I enjoyed a happiness and joy that I haven't had in months. I enjoyed hope!! Then my more cautious side reminded me to not enjoy the happiness and hope too much lest I also suffer thru a broken heart in another 2 weeks. This is the negotiations you go thru when you are TCC. Part of you wants to throw a party and another part of you wants to go into lock-down so that you can keep it private and not have to share your pain with a bunch of people. The other part of you just wants to forget you even know you are ovulating and get on with daily life. It's kind of this crazy dance between you, yourself and you.
For the record, I'm tired of reasonable hope. It's a hope that is allowed in but either just for a short time or as a lesser version of it's true self. Unfortunately, the broken heart at the end of the cycle can threaten to overwhelm and take over. God didn't make us to only be sort of joyful. He meant for us to be filled with his joy and peace and calmness. It's hard to focus on just that when you also have the voices of the people around you demanding your attention. Drs and bosses and frenemies and on and on. I wish I had even just one day where I feel like I could clear my head and just focus on God and what He's trying to tell me.
So, reasonable hope won out for today. I'm excited about the 2 eggs that are huge and even excited about the 2 smaller eggs that may come a few days later. However, I'm not going to dedicate several days of my life to just be sad if things don't work out. I don't see how that helps and really just keeps me in a dark place that would be hard to get out of without some help. Some days I feel like a crazy person just trying to walk the line between "AWESOME" and "THAT SUCKS". Some days I'm glad for whatever hope I have to hold on to.
Today I firmly held on to my reasonable hope but tonight when I dream . . . who knows what COULD BE!!
I was blessed in that I knew many many years before I had ever met my husband, let alone try to get pregnant, that I may not be able to get pregnant. When I didn't follow my dr's advice, it wasn't because I didn't trust their medical opinion. It was because they were all suggesting that, out of fear of infertility, that I should grab the nearest sperm donor and get pregnant immediately. "Hey, you are a 20yr old college kid, forget all your life plans and get pregnant now so that when you are ready to have a husband and family and all that, well, you won't have missed out on getting pregnant and you can feel fulfilled in your life." I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of what I was told by many drs. Most of you know my enthusiasm towards the medical profession. Instead of working from a place of fear, I chose instead to believe that it's always God's plan and what's best for the kidlets that a child should be born in a happy and healthy 2 parent home. I chose to wait until I was married to start trying to get pregnant.
As with everything that has to do with my health, I had to fight the drs in order to be seen by a specialist. Then, it turns out that I was still only being given half the picture so I started reading up. So much information is available for us women and they never volunteer it in the schools or the drs office. Such a loss of time, precious time, since we weren't timing things correctly and didn't have a clue about the signals the body gives you that it's a great time for some private time with your husband! I have long suspected that drs get nervous when you know at least as much about your body as they are supposed to know. I'll make time to write about that in the near future.
So, for the past few months we've been trying Clomid. It's kind of crazy but my side effects have been pretty minimal. It's increased the number of eggs I'm going to ovulate that cycle but so far no one has gotten overly excited. I think that the size of the eggs are still not what they have been hoping to see. They even made me come in for the hormone blood workup I was avoiding during tax season. This month has been a crazy crazy time. Especially the last few weeks. Long story short, I felt certain that my stress levels were high enough that I may be delaying ovulation this cycle. I warned the Dr about that when I went in for my ultrasound. I didn't want her to give me their "Worried eyes". Today was a new Dr so I didn't know what to expect. However, she got all excited when she found my first ovary. A really good size egg and a smaller one. Hurray!! When she glided over to the other ovary she got even more excited!! At this point even I'm getting a little excited. She found a bigger egg on the other ovary, along with a smaller one. She was super impressed that I had an egg that size considering how far along I am in the cycle.
For about 30 minutes I enjoyed a happiness and joy that I haven't had in months. I enjoyed hope!! Then my more cautious side reminded me to not enjoy the happiness and hope too much lest I also suffer thru a broken heart in another 2 weeks. This is the negotiations you go thru when you are TCC. Part of you wants to throw a party and another part of you wants to go into lock-down so that you can keep it private and not have to share your pain with a bunch of people. The other part of you just wants to forget you even know you are ovulating and get on with daily life. It's kind of this crazy dance between you, yourself and you.
For the record, I'm tired of reasonable hope. It's a hope that is allowed in but either just for a short time or as a lesser version of it's true self. Unfortunately, the broken heart at the end of the cycle can threaten to overwhelm and take over. God didn't make us to only be sort of joyful. He meant for us to be filled with his joy and peace and calmness. It's hard to focus on just that when you also have the voices of the people around you demanding your attention. Drs and bosses and frenemies and on and on. I wish I had even just one day where I feel like I could clear my head and just focus on God and what He's trying to tell me.
So, reasonable hope won out for today. I'm excited about the 2 eggs that are huge and even excited about the 2 smaller eggs that may come a few days later. However, I'm not going to dedicate several days of my life to just be sad if things don't work out. I don't see how that helps and really just keeps me in a dark place that would be hard to get out of without some help. Some days I feel like a crazy person just trying to walk the line between "AWESOME" and "THAT SUCKS". Some days I'm glad for whatever hope I have to hold on to.
Today I firmly held on to my reasonable hope but tonight when I dream . . . who knows what COULD BE!!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Making peace with water
We aren't vain people, not in the sense that we want to look good for everyone else. We have both gained some weight while living here and we really don't like what we see in the mirror. Our clothes don't fit, our faces don't fit, our sense of self doesn't fit. It's not where we'd like to be. So, we delve into some crazy and some sane ideas in getting healthier.
Our craziest, so far, is a juicing detox. We did it for the full 21 days the first time. However, that got to be too much. Juicing takes a lot of time and energy. When you haven't had any food-food all day? That's energy that's best spent doing something else. That was almost 2yrs ago. The up-side? We felt lighter and in less pain and it blew our minds. However, the book we read that instructed us on the detox did more than set out a diet plan. It got into label reading and chemicals and natural foods and really taking a look at that "mac-n-cheese" we bought in a box as opposed to making it from scratch. Who knew such basic meals took so many chemicals just to add a cheese flavor. Those of you who know me know that I take my cheese very very serious. Fake cheese should be banned!!
One of the first things I noticed was that pop (soda) didn't taste the same and I didn't enjoy it the way I did before. Not good since tax season would be upon me not long after that first detox. We are trying to get pregnant but for 2 weeks out of every cycle I could enjoy the bubbly sugar water offer with every can of Cherry Coke. Caffeine was never important to me but I tried to cut it out as we looked for things to "fix" in our TCC. One a side not: I had prayed for a few years that I would be delivered from my "addiction" to chocolate. During that next tax season I got the flu. Bad. Unlike anything I had seen in over 20yrs. THAT kind of flu. One of the last things I ate before I got sick was chocolate. It didn't make me as happy as it used to (thanks to the detox) but it was a useful tool when I was sad or anxious. So, last in first out. Done with chocolate and caffeinated pop all together. Thank you Lord!!! Horrible but effective!
I also started to drink more water at that point. Unwillingly. Begrudgingly. Slowly.
Next detox was only for 10 days. This time the uncaffeinated, clear pop caused an issue. When you start eliminating things from your diet then you start noticing sensitivities. Holy Cow my sinuses would swell up and cause such a headache! Wow Oh Wow!!!! So, toss that out. Not that you need it, but what was I gonna drink???? *searching searching searching* Lemonade!! We eat out often enough that I was concerned about what I'd have to drink because I'm really picky about the water I drink. Then I read the labels on some of the lemonade. Um, how can they call this lemonade??? 0% juice???? What am I ingesting??? UGH!!
However, this most recent detox, only for 7 days, pushed me over the edge with the water. Yes, I have my specific water that I prefer. No it's not a froo-froo brand. It's Target's "Market Pantry" brand and I love it! However, how'd I go from a cherry coke drinking fiend to a water guzzling health nut?? That one is still to be figured out. It's a new me and I'm not sure what to make of it.
So, in conclusion: I drink water more than anything else available and I like it!
Ta-Da!!
Our craziest, so far, is a juicing detox. We did it for the full 21 days the first time. However, that got to be too much. Juicing takes a lot of time and energy. When you haven't had any food-food all day? That's energy that's best spent doing something else. That was almost 2yrs ago. The up-side? We felt lighter and in less pain and it blew our minds. However, the book we read that instructed us on the detox did more than set out a diet plan. It got into label reading and chemicals and natural foods and really taking a look at that "mac-n-cheese" we bought in a box as opposed to making it from scratch. Who knew such basic meals took so many chemicals just to add a cheese flavor. Those of you who know me know that I take my cheese very very serious. Fake cheese should be banned!!
One of the first things I noticed was that pop (soda) didn't taste the same and I didn't enjoy it the way I did before. Not good since tax season would be upon me not long after that first detox. We are trying to get pregnant but for 2 weeks out of every cycle I could enjoy the bubbly sugar water offer with every can of Cherry Coke. Caffeine was never important to me but I tried to cut it out as we looked for things to "fix" in our TCC. One a side not: I had prayed for a few years that I would be delivered from my "addiction" to chocolate. During that next tax season I got the flu. Bad. Unlike anything I had seen in over 20yrs. THAT kind of flu. One of the last things I ate before I got sick was chocolate. It didn't make me as happy as it used to (thanks to the detox) but it was a useful tool when I was sad or anxious. So, last in first out. Done with chocolate and caffeinated pop all together. Thank you Lord!!! Horrible but effective!
I also started to drink more water at that point. Unwillingly. Begrudgingly. Slowly.
Next detox was only for 10 days. This time the uncaffeinated, clear pop caused an issue. When you start eliminating things from your diet then you start noticing sensitivities. Holy Cow my sinuses would swell up and cause such a headache! Wow Oh Wow!!!! So, toss that out. Not that you need it, but what was I gonna drink???? *searching searching searching* Lemonade!! We eat out often enough that I was concerned about what I'd have to drink because I'm really picky about the water I drink. Then I read the labels on some of the lemonade. Um, how can they call this lemonade??? 0% juice???? What am I ingesting??? UGH!!
However, this most recent detox, only for 7 days, pushed me over the edge with the water. Yes, I have my specific water that I prefer. No it's not a froo-froo brand. It's Target's "Market Pantry" brand and I love it! However, how'd I go from a cherry coke drinking fiend to a water guzzling health nut?? That one is still to be figured out. It's a new me and I'm not sure what to make of it.
So, in conclusion: I drink water more than anything else available and I like it!
Ta-Da!!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Exhaustion
Tax season is over and I'm thrilled for that. It tends to suck the very life out of you. Every year, 1/3 of my life gets signed over to "the company". That isn't an exaggeration because I spend most of my waking hours at the office. When I am home, the few precious hours I get a break, are spent inhaling food and rubbing sore limbs. The human body was never meant to sit at a desk for 8hrs a day, let alone 12 or 13. When I lay my head down for some much needed sleep, it's not the same because I'm tossing and turning between the sore joints and my "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh did I finish A, B or C? Did the client get X, Y or Z in the mail on time? Who's going to yell at me tomorrow?????????????" That never makes for restful sleep.
So, May is usually the month to unwind and get my life back. I look forward to May. I'm not keen on cleaning my house but by the time we get to May, it's well over due. I get to bake. I get to cook with more than 20 min. I can sleep in on a Saturday. It also means that summer is around the corner and that means the beach and heavy air in the evenings and visits to Busch Gardens. Yeah!!!
This tax season, tho, was harder than all but one other tax season in the last 6. I'm old enough to know that I'm not a spring chicken any more and that some things just drain me more than they used to. This year, tho, I got a slap in the face about my health. Oh, sure, I've waved off the tension headaches and dutifully went to the Dr at my husband's demands to make him feel better that my chest pains were nothing more than stress. No problem *waves hands dismissively* I'm not worried about those things. Did I ever have those reactions to stress before? Nope, but it's an annual thing now for the past few years. I have a strong heart and I have headaches all the time. Easy to blow those signals off. This year, tho, I agreed to do something I had waved off last year. This year I allowed ultrasounds to happen so that we were on top of things when tax season was over. This year I cried and felt fear about my stress. This year I was truly scared that I'd end up in the hospital before tax season was over. This tax season I didn't ovulate 3 of the 4 possible cycles I had during tax season. Which is a bitch since I still had pains on day 1 and my temp sort of shifted so that made me doubt what I was doing charting. This is like a man only creating sperm 1 out of every 4 days. Let's just drop the sperm productivity by 75% and see how that works out. Are you kidding me??????
No one freaked out at me but I could tell they were waiting to see my reaction. As they swept back and forth with the wand, double checking themselves in case they missed an egg, calling in a co-worker to confirm what they already know. They would then look at me and size me up for a second. I had already guessed that was going on and so when I saw their apprehension and hesitation I felt obligated to help them. I said it first. "No eggs? Is that what you are talking about?" For them, the tension left the room at that moment. I wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to get hysterical, wasn't going to get mad. For me, the blood rushed in my ears, sparkles popped up in front of my eyes, the air left my lungs. I reassured them as quickly as possible knowing that they'd want to leave the room as fast as possible. Fine, go! That gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts while I pretend to get dressed. I lose my balance and feel dizzy and my limbs feel very heavy in that moment. About the point that I feel that I'm taking too long to get dressed and they'll start to worry about me, I throw my clothes and a smile on and leave. I don't want their clinical sympathy. I don't want a lecture on my body. Really, what I don't want to hear them say is, "we should check your hormones to make sure you aren't perimenopausal" They are trying not to say it. I'm 37 and for them 38 is some magical line in the sand. I am not so worried because my mom gave birth at 43 without any help. When my hormones have been checked, there is no sign of menopause. So, I'm trying not to consider that and I sure don't want to hear it out of their mouths either. KEEP THAT TO YOURSELF because I have enough on my plate.
Much like a favorite blanket, I cling to the idea that before the next tax season I will be allowed to leave this job and get my life back. We had a hiccup and so our steps away from here may not start again until August, but even if our current plan falls thru, the idea that I won't go thru another tax season here is my desperate hope. I also know that it's very likely that staying at this job is our last obstacle to getting pregnant. UGH!!
So, the current end to tax season came with much joy when I found out that I was ovulating. However, all of it just drags on me and I swear I could sleep for a week if given the chance. I just don't think that will help me feel less exhausted. I have given permission to a job to suck the life out of me, to place fear at the top of my list of states of being every day, to let them help me feel like a failure time and again, to not do a thing to help me feel like this is a safe environment. I'm done and tired and sick of the fight. I hear my dad's voice in my head that I'm supposed to be a good citizen at all times and fight the good fight. I'm just too tired to care right now *yawn*
So, May is usually the month to unwind and get my life back. I look forward to May. I'm not keen on cleaning my house but by the time we get to May, it's well over due. I get to bake. I get to cook with more than 20 min. I can sleep in on a Saturday. It also means that summer is around the corner and that means the beach and heavy air in the evenings and visits to Busch Gardens. Yeah!!!
This tax season, tho, was harder than all but one other tax season in the last 6. I'm old enough to know that I'm not a spring chicken any more and that some things just drain me more than they used to. This year, tho, I got a slap in the face about my health. Oh, sure, I've waved off the tension headaches and dutifully went to the Dr at my husband's demands to make him feel better that my chest pains were nothing more than stress. No problem *waves hands dismissively* I'm not worried about those things. Did I ever have those reactions to stress before? Nope, but it's an annual thing now for the past few years. I have a strong heart and I have headaches all the time. Easy to blow those signals off. This year, tho, I agreed to do something I had waved off last year. This year I allowed ultrasounds to happen so that we were on top of things when tax season was over. This year I cried and felt fear about my stress. This year I was truly scared that I'd end up in the hospital before tax season was over. This tax season I didn't ovulate 3 of the 4 possible cycles I had during tax season. Which is a bitch since I still had pains on day 1 and my temp sort of shifted so that made me doubt what I was doing charting. This is like a man only creating sperm 1 out of every 4 days. Let's just drop the sperm productivity by 75% and see how that works out. Are you kidding me??????
No one freaked out at me but I could tell they were waiting to see my reaction. As they swept back and forth with the wand, double checking themselves in case they missed an egg, calling in a co-worker to confirm what they already know. They would then look at me and size me up for a second. I had already guessed that was going on and so when I saw their apprehension and hesitation I felt obligated to help them. I said it first. "No eggs? Is that what you are talking about?" For them, the tension left the room at that moment. I wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to get hysterical, wasn't going to get mad. For me, the blood rushed in my ears, sparkles popped up in front of my eyes, the air left my lungs. I reassured them as quickly as possible knowing that they'd want to leave the room as fast as possible. Fine, go! That gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts while I pretend to get dressed. I lose my balance and feel dizzy and my limbs feel very heavy in that moment. About the point that I feel that I'm taking too long to get dressed and they'll start to worry about me, I throw my clothes and a smile on and leave. I don't want their clinical sympathy. I don't want a lecture on my body. Really, what I don't want to hear them say is, "we should check your hormones to make sure you aren't perimenopausal" They are trying not to say it. I'm 37 and for them 38 is some magical line in the sand. I am not so worried because my mom gave birth at 43 without any help. When my hormones have been checked, there is no sign of menopause. So, I'm trying not to consider that and I sure don't want to hear it out of their mouths either. KEEP THAT TO YOURSELF because I have enough on my plate.
Much like a favorite blanket, I cling to the idea that before the next tax season I will be allowed to leave this job and get my life back. We had a hiccup and so our steps away from here may not start again until August, but even if our current plan falls thru, the idea that I won't go thru another tax season here is my desperate hope. I also know that it's very likely that staying at this job is our last obstacle to getting pregnant. UGH!!
So, the current end to tax season came with much joy when I found out that I was ovulating. However, all of it just drags on me and I swear I could sleep for a week if given the chance. I just don't think that will help me feel less exhausted. I have given permission to a job to suck the life out of me, to place fear at the top of my list of states of being every day, to let them help me feel like a failure time and again, to not do a thing to help me feel like this is a safe environment. I'm done and tired and sick of the fight. I hear my dad's voice in my head that I'm supposed to be a good citizen at all times and fight the good fight. I'm just too tired to care right now *yawn*
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Secrets of Joys and Fears
I have a "secret". It's not really a secret but I'm not telling everyone what happened yesterday. It's not a big deal to anyone but those closest to me. It's a huge deal for me. Still, the ramifications are huge if I tell the whole world and then find out that the glee of yesterday doesn't extend thru the next few weeks. Plus, logic dictates that the odds are against us and therefore I need to keep a level head.
However, why I don't tell is different for different people.
I don't tell most of the people at work because I don't want 1000 questions in a couple of weeks when I may be sad. I also don't want the 1000 questions if it's good news and I'm not ready to share that good news with the world. Plus, I don't feel safe around most of these people and therefore I don't feel like letting them in to this very private time. I've told a couple of key people but I know they won't share that information with anyone else. Even if I just told the people I didn't mind at work, word would pass and I'd get comments and, well, I've decided not to share. Not like they really care anyways so what difference does it make to them? Except when they find out they weren't on the "to be told" list but I'll deal with that later if I get to.
We are open with family because we know that they are praying for us and it's good to keep them updated on the latest and greatest. It helps them to feel a part of all this and it reminds them to keep up the prayers. That usually leads to encouraging sentiments and those are always appreciated.
Some friends get told as a point of fact. "Hey, we did X the other day, just so you know" and they roll with that information and it's all good. Some friends are not told because they are in an emotionally unhappy place and it would be more harmful then helpful. I have a friend who got put on bedrest for the last month of her pregnancy and was scared. I waited until I found out that she gave birth and all was fantastic for mother and child. I have another friend who is going on this trek with me and is having the same success I am and she's very sad right now. I might birth a child and still not tell her! A friend is worried about her and so now I'm worried about her. She doesn't need to know about X right now and if it doesn't work in a couple of weeks, then I've done no harm in keeping that information from her. Could she figure it out on my FB page? Probably, but I'm not going to specifically point it out to her. For what purpose?
And those become the secrets of our joys and fears. We have things that go on in our lives that we can't share with the whole world. Some of us are sharers and that's just how we are. To not tell someone close to us about something major just about puts us over the edge. It's so natural to open my mouth and spill the beans. It's like telling me to think about breathing the next time I feel the uncontrolled desire to expand my lungs and suck in oxygen. Do I really need that breath? Will it hurt anyone if I do breath? I know that's silly but that's about the size of it when you consider the gears that have to be changed in my head. Good news? Bad news? Completely inconsequencial information that is huge to me but has no ramifications on anyone else? Doesn't matter!
The stupid part is that it dampens the highs and lowers the lows when a sharer can't share. Why? because we are social creatures. We are built and created to live and thrive in a social setting. Not just sharers, but everyone! To some extent, we all have the urge to share what is going on in our lives with another and get validation that who we are matters. That we aren't just a cellular being floating around with other cellular beings and no one interacts with one another and no one cares. My name is Cyndi and I matter to some people!
So, I keep some secrets and hold them close when I interact with certain people. Sometimes out of love and concern and sometimes out of self-preservation. If something comes of X then I'll change how I go about telling more people. Until then? It's probably best to keep this info to myself. It helps me to not get my hopes up just yet. Sound depressing? Nope, it's just logical.
However, why I don't tell is different for different people.
I don't tell most of the people at work because I don't want 1000 questions in a couple of weeks when I may be sad. I also don't want the 1000 questions if it's good news and I'm not ready to share that good news with the world. Plus, I don't feel safe around most of these people and therefore I don't feel like letting them in to this very private time. I've told a couple of key people but I know they won't share that information with anyone else. Even if I just told the people I didn't mind at work, word would pass and I'd get comments and, well, I've decided not to share. Not like they really care anyways so what difference does it make to them? Except when they find out they weren't on the "to be told" list but I'll deal with that later if I get to.
We are open with family because we know that they are praying for us and it's good to keep them updated on the latest and greatest. It helps them to feel a part of all this and it reminds them to keep up the prayers. That usually leads to encouraging sentiments and those are always appreciated.
Some friends get told as a point of fact. "Hey, we did X the other day, just so you know" and they roll with that information and it's all good. Some friends are not told because they are in an emotionally unhappy place and it would be more harmful then helpful. I have a friend who got put on bedrest for the last month of her pregnancy and was scared. I waited until I found out that she gave birth and all was fantastic for mother and child. I have another friend who is going on this trek with me and is having the same success I am and she's very sad right now. I might birth a child and still not tell her! A friend is worried about her and so now I'm worried about her. She doesn't need to know about X right now and if it doesn't work in a couple of weeks, then I've done no harm in keeping that information from her. Could she figure it out on my FB page? Probably, but I'm not going to specifically point it out to her. For what purpose?
And those become the secrets of our joys and fears. We have things that go on in our lives that we can't share with the whole world. Some of us are sharers and that's just how we are. To not tell someone close to us about something major just about puts us over the edge. It's so natural to open my mouth and spill the beans. It's like telling me to think about breathing the next time I feel the uncontrolled desire to expand my lungs and suck in oxygen. Do I really need that breath? Will it hurt anyone if I do breath? I know that's silly but that's about the size of it when you consider the gears that have to be changed in my head. Good news? Bad news? Completely inconsequencial information that is huge to me but has no ramifications on anyone else? Doesn't matter!
The stupid part is that it dampens the highs and lowers the lows when a sharer can't share. Why? because we are social creatures. We are built and created to live and thrive in a social setting. Not just sharers, but everyone! To some extent, we all have the urge to share what is going on in our lives with another and get validation that who we are matters. That we aren't just a cellular being floating around with other cellular beings and no one interacts with one another and no one cares. My name is Cyndi and I matter to some people!
So, I keep some secrets and hold them close when I interact with certain people. Sometimes out of love and concern and sometimes out of self-preservation. If something comes of X then I'll change how I go about telling more people. Until then? It's probably best to keep this info to myself. It helps me to not get my hopes up just yet. Sound depressing? Nope, it's just logical.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Being home sick
For the record, you know you hate your job to the n-th degree when you'd rather be at home, sick as a dog, then go to the office.
I just wish I wasn't so sick that I couldn't do something enjoyable while I was at home =P
I just wish I wasn't so sick that I couldn't do something enjoyable while I was at home =P
Inked
Leaving the midwest for the sunny western coast is a huge transition. I wasn't quite 17 yet when I did it. I wasn't a loner back home but I sure wasn't anyone's version of the popular girl. I grew up tall and had a girl's version of my adult body by the time I was 14. I was never embarrassed about my height but the same couldn't be said about how I saw the shape of my body. No boy wants to date soft and fleshy girls. Well, there are some but they typically aren't the healthiest choices for young girls. Or was that just my lucky streak with the boys? I'll leave that to be argued at a later time.
I had only seen east LA on the TV and I thought it best to keep my head down for the year I was there. Senior year is already kind of crazy and I was the new kid on the block. I didn't know their lingo or their mannerisms. Quickly I became known as the tall blonde from the midwest. Their view of their counterparts from the frozen tundra in the middle of the country was very rural, country and hayseed. Regardless of who I was, my outsides screamed Swedish farm girl. *shrug*
So, I figured out that my accent identified me straight off. It's been 20 years since I lived back home and yet people pick up on it right away. It was considered "cute" in the west. Something that made me unique and since it's always desirable to be unique it was sort of an advantage. People remembered me as the tall, blonde girl with the quirky accent. However, when you want to be considered something OTHER than cute and safe you try really hard to create a new persona and put it out there. No one bought it. Not really. I just looked like a cute girl going thru a phase. So, I pondered some more and ,with the encouragement of a friend back home, I took a huge plunge. What could really show everyone that I wasn't some cute girl from the midwest but some bad ass girl living in the wild west? A TATTOO!! Yes, despite my fears of needles (at that point, fear doesn't quite explain how I felt about needles), I decided that a tattoo would be exactly what I needed. I took my time. No need to permantantly mark my body with something foolish just to make a point. I walked into several parlors, flipped thru dozens of books with lots of pictures. It was more overwhelming then I ever thought it would be. Something classic, something unique, something edgy. What to do, what to do. I went back to my friend back home. What was it that she had been asking me to do? She loves tattoos and so she's got several but she's got one that was meant for us. She had put 2 hearts on her bicep. One blue and one green. The green was for me and the blue was for her. Ok, safe and quirky and something that required interest and questions. Perfect!!
I was 20 and had asked around for recommendations. I walked into a parlor near my fave beach. It was laid back and sandy and not super organized. Perfect! I walked in, told the guy what I wanted and was instructed to sit backwards in the chair. I came in wearing a bikini top uner my shirt so that I could stay covered up and yet allow access to my back. Off comes the shirt and the bikini strap gets pushed to the side. The instrument sounds like a horror story dental instrument. It feels like someone is digging their nail into your skin. There was a mirror in front of me so I made sure to divert my eyes so I didn't tense up.
30 minutes later I'm inked up and feeling tough and ready to be a new me!! It was patched up and under my bikini strap but I walked out a little taller, with a little bit of an attitude and swagger. Bring it on!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fast forward 17 years. My tat didn't change everyone's perception of me. That's ok. It's still a conversation piece. What I hate now is that we are in VA and I work in accounting firm and instead of getting, "Hey, you have a tat!" I get, "That's not real, is it?" Some of that is due to the accounting mentality, I get that. A lot more of it has to do with the attitude in the mid-Atlantic that everyone wants to look just like everyone else. Why would I put a temp dual heart tattoo on? What purpose does that serve? Also, what makes anyone think that a.) touching my tat tells you anything about it and b.) sneering at me for having one is beneficial to our day-to-day relations and c.) it's ok to poke me in the back? People out here are weird.
So, that's that. I'm inked. I'm a bad-ass who's sat in the chair and had ink permanently put on my body. It's in a place that shouldn't age badly. Having a tat is part of who I am, part of my history, a reminder of a time in my life when I was so certain that I wasn't good enough just as I was. It's also a reminder that I'm not as scared of life as I thought I was. I still need that reminder and I'm glad it goes with me, no matter where I go!
I had only seen east LA on the TV and I thought it best to keep my head down for the year I was there. Senior year is already kind of crazy and I was the new kid on the block. I didn't know their lingo or their mannerisms. Quickly I became known as the tall blonde from the midwest. Their view of their counterparts from the frozen tundra in the middle of the country was very rural, country and hayseed. Regardless of who I was, my outsides screamed Swedish farm girl. *shrug*
So, I figured out that my accent identified me straight off. It's been 20 years since I lived back home and yet people pick up on it right away. It was considered "cute" in the west. Something that made me unique and since it's always desirable to be unique it was sort of an advantage. People remembered me as the tall, blonde girl with the quirky accent. However, when you want to be considered something OTHER than cute and safe you try really hard to create a new persona and put it out there. No one bought it. Not really. I just looked like a cute girl going thru a phase. So, I pondered some more and ,with the encouragement of a friend back home, I took a huge plunge. What could really show everyone that I wasn't some cute girl from the midwest but some bad ass girl living in the wild west? A TATTOO!! Yes, despite my fears of needles (at that point, fear doesn't quite explain how I felt about needles), I decided that a tattoo would be exactly what I needed. I took my time. No need to permantantly mark my body with something foolish just to make a point. I walked into several parlors, flipped thru dozens of books with lots of pictures. It was more overwhelming then I ever thought it would be. Something classic, something unique, something edgy. What to do, what to do. I went back to my friend back home. What was it that she had been asking me to do? She loves tattoos and so she's got several but she's got one that was meant for us. She had put 2 hearts on her bicep. One blue and one green. The green was for me and the blue was for her. Ok, safe and quirky and something that required interest and questions. Perfect!!
I was 20 and had asked around for recommendations. I walked into a parlor near my fave beach. It was laid back and sandy and not super organized. Perfect! I walked in, told the guy what I wanted and was instructed to sit backwards in the chair. I came in wearing a bikini top uner my shirt so that I could stay covered up and yet allow access to my back. Off comes the shirt and the bikini strap gets pushed to the side. The instrument sounds like a horror story dental instrument. It feels like someone is digging their nail into your skin. There was a mirror in front of me so I made sure to divert my eyes so I didn't tense up.
30 minutes later I'm inked up and feeling tough and ready to be a new me!! It was patched up and under my bikini strap but I walked out a little taller, with a little bit of an attitude and swagger. Bring it on!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fast forward 17 years. My tat didn't change everyone's perception of me. That's ok. It's still a conversation piece. What I hate now is that we are in VA and I work in accounting firm and instead of getting, "Hey, you have a tat!" I get, "That's not real, is it?" Some of that is due to the accounting mentality, I get that. A lot more of it has to do with the attitude in the mid-Atlantic that everyone wants to look just like everyone else. Why would I put a temp dual heart tattoo on? What purpose does that serve? Also, what makes anyone think that a.) touching my tat tells you anything about it and b.) sneering at me for having one is beneficial to our day-to-day relations and c.) it's ok to poke me in the back? People out here are weird.
So, that's that. I'm inked. I'm a bad-ass who's sat in the chair and had ink permanently put on my body. It's in a place that shouldn't age badly. Having a tat is part of who I am, part of my history, a reminder of a time in my life when I was so certain that I wasn't good enough just as I was. It's also a reminder that I'm not as scared of life as I thought I was. I still need that reminder and I'm glad it goes with me, no matter where I go!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Thoughts of a rolling kiosk
Our lives will be worked around my husband's job. I am not a "career" girl in the fashion of the NOW. I do not find my worth from my paycheck and the rarely achieved nod from some suit. I have dreams of staying at home and cooking dinners that take 2hrs to put together. Of raising children and baking cookies for the class and making sure that homework is finished after the last bell. I work because life requires payment. We don't live an insane lifestyle but sometimes things catch up with us. The last item was a brand new roof that came with minimal warning. We are still digging out. Once that is paid off I could take a pay cut. See, I can't be bought like that. I have dreams of quitting corporate america and starting my own little business until the children come and if they don't, making the business my thing to do while I follow my husband.
I'm sure those thoughts seem foreign or backwards to some women. I hear about it from my aquaintances. I remind them that the feminist movemet was meant to bring about freedom for women to do what made them happy and feel fulfilled. Well, that was the original idea. Now it's about some kind of power trip. "Let's show them we can be as nasty as the boys". How uninspiring. How boorish. Eh, if that's what makes them happy and fulfilled? I hope they enjoy it!
So, when my husband calls to tell me about a new job opening that would take us away from this area, we are gleeful. Not just because it means a better opportunity for him but also because it means I can get away from where I'm stuck. Our chats never veer towards talks about my next corporate job. We talk about me taking cake decorating classes and starting my own bookkeeping business. We giggle about how our next home needs a bigger kitchen so I can create more masterpieces for my husband to enjoy. Yes, I said we giggle. Today there was talk about a place we have only pondered for a brief moment because it's too ludicruis to truly consider. He's happy in his job and he enjoys his work. There is never talk about settling in and being nervous. He's a cop and that's what he's meant to be. He's an investigator and that's what his heart is set on and so he makes movements in that direction with his career. So we talk about what I'll do. We giggle about the silly ideas of how I can mold what makes me happy to the circumstances we may find ourselves. My husband is so supportive and I'm so very grateful to be blessed with him!
Today we thought up a plan to have a rolling kiosk on the boardwalk that had a heating tray so that I could keep cupcakes warm and spread the smell of baked yumminess floating around me to attract customers. Who could resist a rolling cupcake with a choice of frostings? If you were on vacation and weren't watching every penny? You'd gobble them up! I have a mental image of one of those rolling carts you see at amusement parks with a cupcake top umbrella. Walking under the warmth of the sun, smelling the breezes of the Gulf and Atlantic coming together. Selling yumminess to smiling people who's tummies have been drawing them to me from the first smell. I also thought about all the snowbirds in the FL area who have businesses back home. They could use a bookkeeper, right? Someone to help them keep track of their books while they are on vacation for 4 months, due to Dr's order for their health. Wifi is such a versitile tool!! I could be baking cupcakes in the morning and doing bookkeeping while I wait and then stroll the boardwalk with my frosting umbrella and talk the day away with the tourists.
It's good to have dreams =)
I'm sure those thoughts seem foreign or backwards to some women. I hear about it from my aquaintances. I remind them that the feminist movemet was meant to bring about freedom for women to do what made them happy and feel fulfilled. Well, that was the original idea. Now it's about some kind of power trip. "Let's show them we can be as nasty as the boys". How uninspiring. How boorish. Eh, if that's what makes them happy and fulfilled? I hope they enjoy it!
So, when my husband calls to tell me about a new job opening that would take us away from this area, we are gleeful. Not just because it means a better opportunity for him but also because it means I can get away from where I'm stuck. Our chats never veer towards talks about my next corporate job. We talk about me taking cake decorating classes and starting my own bookkeeping business. We giggle about how our next home needs a bigger kitchen so I can create more masterpieces for my husband to enjoy. Yes, I said we giggle. Today there was talk about a place we have only pondered for a brief moment because it's too ludicruis to truly consider. He's happy in his job and he enjoys his work. There is never talk about settling in and being nervous. He's a cop and that's what he's meant to be. He's an investigator and that's what his heart is set on and so he makes movements in that direction with his career. So we talk about what I'll do. We giggle about the silly ideas of how I can mold what makes me happy to the circumstances we may find ourselves. My husband is so supportive and I'm so very grateful to be blessed with him!
Today we thought up a plan to have a rolling kiosk on the boardwalk that had a heating tray so that I could keep cupcakes warm and spread the smell of baked yumminess floating around me to attract customers. Who could resist a rolling cupcake with a choice of frostings? If you were on vacation and weren't watching every penny? You'd gobble them up! I have a mental image of one of those rolling carts you see at amusement parks with a cupcake top umbrella. Walking under the warmth of the sun, smelling the breezes of the Gulf and Atlantic coming together. Selling yumminess to smiling people who's tummies have been drawing them to me from the first smell. I also thought about all the snowbirds in the FL area who have businesses back home. They could use a bookkeeper, right? Someone to help them keep track of their books while they are on vacation for 4 months, due to Dr's order for their health. Wifi is such a versitile tool!! I could be baking cupcakes in the morning and doing bookkeeping while I wait and then stroll the boardwalk with my frosting umbrella and talk the day away with the tourists.
It's good to have dreams =)
Confusion about committment
We are a week out from one of the first main deadlines for the bulk of the accounting field. Nevermind that I've already passed 2 huge ones. Bookkeeper deadlines aren't deemed important enough to recognize. Well, until a client calls up wondering where their W2s are at! At that point we are only important enough to grouch at. Either way, the first main deadline is fast approaching. March 15th is when most of the business returns are due. Clients like to call, forgetting that we have other clients, and wonder what we've been doing with their information for the last 2 weeks. "Shouldn't my return be done? I want to file my personal return and get that refund!" I am forever amused at the idea that our clients must surely believe that we wiggle our noses and VIOLA their tax return is finished. They make this assumption about any product we create for them. I used to be annoyed, now I'm amused. I am your own personal Samantha from Bewitched!
So, I am only one person and as such, I can truly only do one thing at a time if it's going to require full attention to detail. Sorry folks, that's just how we were created. Unfortunately, the phone calls and emails don't come in the order I was planning on doing things. The partners don't come into our offices in that order, either. What does annoy me is when one partner comes in to bark about something missing and the client is calling him and wants thier return yesterday blah blah blah. Ok, do you want me to stop what I am doing and now focus on that? When what you are working on is for a different partner, the first partner is very quick to say, "yes, stop doing that and focus on me". What happens when the client they are attempting to interrupt is another one of their clients?
I have told this one partner, repeatedly, for the last 2 weeks that I can't get anything finished due to all the interruptions. I understand that he is the face and therefore gets a lot of the grief from the clients. However, I can't finish projects for him and get him information if I can't keep one single thought in my head for more than 5 min! To prove my point, he interrupted me one night and I had to trash 20 min of work for another partner. I thought, "oh, I will tell him what a waste of time this is and he'll get it" How nieve of me! How silly of me! He asked what client he had interrupted, it wasn't one of his and he blew me off! I was bent out of shape! I'm being polite. I truly was pissed! That's not just another partner's client, it's my time you are wasting, too!
Today, that same partner came in to interrupt what I was already working on to tell me that I had failed to do something or other that I had no clue was my job to do. This is literally the first time I'm hearing about it. So, I looked him straight in the eye and said, "First, when was I supposed to know to do this? No one told me about anything beyond their W2s and city returns. Second, I'm working on this other client of yours right now, what takes priority?" There, right there! In his eyes. He didn't know what to do. His face froze for a moment, his eyes stopped and just stared. Not at me, I'm not sure what but he was looking beyond me. This blur of activity who was so quick to bark at me now had a quandry. What takes priority? He didn't answer me. Instead he went back to barking. So, I got animated with my question. "What do you want me to do right now?" In my head I was thinking, "keep it up tough guy and I will grab my purse and jacket and walk right out of here I'm so sick of all of this!" But you can't say that. The hell you pay tomorrow isn't worth the satisfaction you get today. In the moment, tho, in the smallest of moments when impulse almost out runs common sense, it would totally be worth it!
So, I went back to what I was doing first because he finally said that he wanted to take a look at the books before I started on his project. I've been interrupted twice again. Once I start something I know that about 10 min into that work someone will come to me with some kind of "accounting emergency". By the way, there are no such things as accounting emergencies. Either you get an extention or you pay a penalty for the late filing. Unless you are a tax evader, no one is going to jail. So, what can I committ the next 2hrs of my day to? Better yet, partner in charge? Why don't you make up YOUR mind on where you want me to committ the next 2hrs of my time? How about you stop getting upset that I can't do 15 things at once and get me a priority list so that I know what you need 5 mins ago vs tomorrow!
Which leads to the ultimate question: Just how committed am I to continue working around these egos dressed up in casual work clothes and business suits? I love my accounting work and dealing with numbers but I'm just not as ego-centered as most of these people are. It gets tiring to go against your grain. Just where is my heart committed? Where are my dreams? I once thought I had wasted my time getting a degree but now I wonder if I was just too narrow in my thinking about opportunities.
In the mean time, my committments are here, in front of me. I love my clients and for all this gruffness of late, I do enjoy working with this recently annoying partner.
So, I am only one person and as such, I can truly only do one thing at a time if it's going to require full attention to detail. Sorry folks, that's just how we were created. Unfortunately, the phone calls and emails don't come in the order I was planning on doing things. The partners don't come into our offices in that order, either. What does annoy me is when one partner comes in to bark about something missing and the client is calling him and wants thier return yesterday blah blah blah. Ok, do you want me to stop what I am doing and now focus on that? When what you are working on is for a different partner, the first partner is very quick to say, "yes, stop doing that and focus on me". What happens when the client they are attempting to interrupt is another one of their clients?
I have told this one partner, repeatedly, for the last 2 weeks that I can't get anything finished due to all the interruptions. I understand that he is the face and therefore gets a lot of the grief from the clients. However, I can't finish projects for him and get him information if I can't keep one single thought in my head for more than 5 min! To prove my point, he interrupted me one night and I had to trash 20 min of work for another partner. I thought, "oh, I will tell him what a waste of time this is and he'll get it" How nieve of me! How silly of me! He asked what client he had interrupted, it wasn't one of his and he blew me off! I was bent out of shape! I'm being polite. I truly was pissed! That's not just another partner's client, it's my time you are wasting, too!
Today, that same partner came in to interrupt what I was already working on to tell me that I had failed to do something or other that I had no clue was my job to do. This is literally the first time I'm hearing about it. So, I looked him straight in the eye and said, "First, when was I supposed to know to do this? No one told me about anything beyond their W2s and city returns. Second, I'm working on this other client of yours right now, what takes priority?" There, right there! In his eyes. He didn't know what to do. His face froze for a moment, his eyes stopped and just stared. Not at me, I'm not sure what but he was looking beyond me. This blur of activity who was so quick to bark at me now had a quandry. What takes priority? He didn't answer me. Instead he went back to barking. So, I got animated with my question. "What do you want me to do right now?" In my head I was thinking, "keep it up tough guy and I will grab my purse and jacket and walk right out of here I'm so sick of all of this!" But you can't say that. The hell you pay tomorrow isn't worth the satisfaction you get today. In the moment, tho, in the smallest of moments when impulse almost out runs common sense, it would totally be worth it!
So, I went back to what I was doing first because he finally said that he wanted to take a look at the books before I started on his project. I've been interrupted twice again. Once I start something I know that about 10 min into that work someone will come to me with some kind of "accounting emergency". By the way, there are no such things as accounting emergencies. Either you get an extention or you pay a penalty for the late filing. Unless you are a tax evader, no one is going to jail. So, what can I committ the next 2hrs of my day to? Better yet, partner in charge? Why don't you make up YOUR mind on where you want me to committ the next 2hrs of my time? How about you stop getting upset that I can't do 15 things at once and get me a priority list so that I know what you need 5 mins ago vs tomorrow!
Which leads to the ultimate question: Just how committed am I to continue working around these egos dressed up in casual work clothes and business suits? I love my accounting work and dealing with numbers but I'm just not as ego-centered as most of these people are. It gets tiring to go against your grain. Just where is my heart committed? Where are my dreams? I once thought I had wasted my time getting a degree but now I wonder if I was just too narrow in my thinking about opportunities.
In the mean time, my committments are here, in front of me. I love my clients and for all this gruffness of late, I do enjoy working with this recently annoying partner.
Friday, March 5, 2010
In the beginning there was fear
For someone who can talk a blue streak, trying to get my thoughts in order to put them down on "paper" is a stumbling block. I'm an old school writer. I still remember having to crumple up the paper and start all over again because I thought my paper would look more grown up if I wrote it in ink! HA!! I would crumple up the latest attempt, sigh or grumble, feel the smoothness of the new sheet, poise my pen above the first line and freeze. I would then take a deep breath, let it out slowly and grab the crumpled sheet of paper, smooth it out and figure out where I could copy my thoughts from the original sheet before I had to make a correction. Call me old-school. I'm not keen on that title but people think I'm cool when I toss it around.
So, I have all these "brilliant" ideas rolling around my head and half finished thoughts and loads of people who laugh at my stories and it comes to me that perhaps I should put them down for my friends and family to enjoy. Then it dawns on me that typing isn't the same as rattling off funny antidotes.
The amuzing thing is that all this thinking about writing really struck a chord of fear in me and I couldn't figure it out. Just the idea of pressing the, "Start your blog" button caused all thoughts to stop in my head. Then I worked up the courage to press the start button (Praise the Lord that I still use a key to start my car!) and let the blog sit here for a couple of days. Blank. Disappointed. Rolling it's eyes at me. Ya know, that's a lot of pressure. I thought about why and tried not to use the easy way out. I come from a very talented family. Drawing, musical instruments, the ability to decorate a room in no time flat (truly an accomplishment in my eyes), pastors, missionaries, hollywood types. Then you have me. I knew I where I was going to college in the 11th grade. I took Accounting classes from the 10th grade. I have all these urges to be creative but childhood encouragement came few and far between so I learned to not bother trying. *insert canned sob story* Who's fault is that? Well, now it's my fault! I'm a big girl and all grown up and it's my fault that I've allowed those fears and thoughts to freeze my brain.
That also makes it my responsibility to try things that scare me. I'm not about to take up bungy jumping, let's not go crazy. But I've taken up cupcakes and widening my cooking skills. I'm allowing my husband to compliment me when I try new things, for some of us this is truly tear enducing. I love my accounting. I love numbers and making things fit. I also enjoy playing the piano and baking cupcakes and decorating them in crazy ways and going to Trader Joes and finding random new foods to try at home or seeing something on the TV and tinkering with the idea until I have my own creation. Sometimes I make foods that sound good but that I won't eat. For example, this week I tried stuffed peppers. I didn't eat the peppers but the stuffing was delicious!!! My hubby thought the whole thing was scrumcious!! During the summer I make a kick butt strawberry pie! It's a weight watchers recipe and no one has a clue that it's a "diet" recipe. I'm not keen on strawberries so I make it and bring it to church and let them gobble it up. I enjoy making homemade whipped cream and BBQ sauce. Those I do eat =) but not together . . . eeeewwwww!
All that to say that I want to write about my baking attempts and decorating ideas. I want to write about sitting at a desk in a public accounting firm surrounded by competitive egos, the moments of insanity that cause me to grind my teeth or belly laugh. I want to write about my family, to include my furball and our attempts to expand the size of our family. I want to write about our travels and our possible moves in the next few years. Above all I want to write about how there is the possibility of getting to the other side of chaos. There is a reality that shows me God's love for me and his desire to give me grace and mercy and to make sense of the craziness that can be my life. I only see today and the view of yesterday changes ever so slightly as I get older but tomorrow is waiting for me. Waiting with anticipation to show off what God has in store for me.
So, I have all these "brilliant" ideas rolling around my head and half finished thoughts and loads of people who laugh at my stories and it comes to me that perhaps I should put them down for my friends and family to enjoy. Then it dawns on me that typing isn't the same as rattling off funny antidotes.
The amuzing thing is that all this thinking about writing really struck a chord of fear in me and I couldn't figure it out. Just the idea of pressing the, "Start your blog" button caused all thoughts to stop in my head. Then I worked up the courage to press the start button (Praise the Lord that I still use a key to start my car!) and let the blog sit here for a couple of days. Blank. Disappointed. Rolling it's eyes at me. Ya know, that's a lot of pressure. I thought about why and tried not to use the easy way out. I come from a very talented family. Drawing, musical instruments, the ability to decorate a room in no time flat (truly an accomplishment in my eyes), pastors, missionaries, hollywood types. Then you have me. I knew I where I was going to college in the 11th grade. I took Accounting classes from the 10th grade. I have all these urges to be creative but childhood encouragement came few and far between so I learned to not bother trying. *insert canned sob story* Who's fault is that? Well, now it's my fault! I'm a big girl and all grown up and it's my fault that I've allowed those fears and thoughts to freeze my brain.
That also makes it my responsibility to try things that scare me. I'm not about to take up bungy jumping, let's not go crazy. But I've taken up cupcakes and widening my cooking skills. I'm allowing my husband to compliment me when I try new things, for some of us this is truly tear enducing. I love my accounting. I love numbers and making things fit. I also enjoy playing the piano and baking cupcakes and decorating them in crazy ways and going to Trader Joes and finding random new foods to try at home or seeing something on the TV and tinkering with the idea until I have my own creation. Sometimes I make foods that sound good but that I won't eat. For example, this week I tried stuffed peppers. I didn't eat the peppers but the stuffing was delicious!!! My hubby thought the whole thing was scrumcious!! During the summer I make a kick butt strawberry pie! It's a weight watchers recipe and no one has a clue that it's a "diet" recipe. I'm not keen on strawberries so I make it and bring it to church and let them gobble it up. I enjoy making homemade whipped cream and BBQ sauce. Those I do eat =) but not together . . . eeeewwwww!
All that to say that I want to write about my baking attempts and decorating ideas. I want to write about sitting at a desk in a public accounting firm surrounded by competitive egos, the moments of insanity that cause me to grind my teeth or belly laugh. I want to write about my family, to include my furball and our attempts to expand the size of our family. I want to write about our travels and our possible moves in the next few years. Above all I want to write about how there is the possibility of getting to the other side of chaos. There is a reality that shows me God's love for me and his desire to give me grace and mercy and to make sense of the craziness that can be my life. I only see today and the view of yesterday changes ever so slightly as I get older but tomorrow is waiting for me. Waiting with anticipation to show off what God has in store for me.
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