The end of graduate school that is! It's hard to believe that I am merely 48 hours away from being completely finished with graduate school.
I was never that kid that thought about college when I as little. No, I was too busy thinking about riding bikes, playing in the dirt and socializing with my friends. (Actually, I still think about all those things, hee hee). Even in high school I was more concerned with my social life and sports rather than academia. But once I got really rolling and found my niche in college, graduate school became a goal that I thought about often.
My senior year of college I thought a lot about graduate school. I thought a lot about graduate school in Florida. I also thought a lot about graduate school so that I would not have to enter the 'real' world. The night before I graduated from undergrad, the Dean of Student Services said I could come back to graduate school there (at Cal) and he would help me get a graduate assistant position. Score!! Now that's a FREE party! Yet, I didn't end up in graduate school in Florida (then) and I didn't take advantage of the party extension. Nothing felt right. So, into the working world I went. I'm too embarrassed to admit what my first 'professional' job paid me right out of college. All I can say is Thank God I had parents that let me live at home and didn't charge me rent!
I applied to graduate school a year later. I applied to a school in Virgina where one of my best friends was attending graduate school. I was weight-listed and eventually did not make the cut. I was bummed. I was lost.
A few years later I was growing restless and ready to consider graduate school again. I explored a few options in Pittsburgh, but again, nothing felt right.
I moved to Florida and lived here for 2 years before I got the itch for school again. I found the Adult Education program and sat on it for a bit. I found myself restless again and I realized this was my time finally fulfill my goal of obtaining my master's degree. So I applied...I got accepted...and life has flown by.
In the 2.5 years it took me to earn this degree, my life has changed so much. MP proposed to me shortly before my first semester started. I purchased my first house, solely in my name (proud of that!) and closed on it the week of my first graduate class. MP and I began to completely remodel this house at the same time. We were also planning our wedding. Shortly after school started, we lost MP's mom. And I was working full time. My priorities changed, my goals changed and as a result, a lot of my relationships changed. There would be days I would wake at 5am to write a paper, work from 9-5, work on the house until 9 and then work on school work until midnight. I didn't get to enjoy Football Sundays as much and I was on edge a lot, spread too thin. But I did it. I got through my first semester. I think there is one project or assignment each semester that I dreaded like the plague. For some reason, my second semester I was tasked with creating a podcast. I had zero interest in taking the time to do that project. I remember doing 80% of my class assignments the last weekend of the semester, about three weeks before I got married. I no longer need to spend my free Saturdays and Sundays doing school work. Blech!
I started my third semester late - having gotten married and going on my honeymoon for the two weeks of the shortened semester. That summer was spent reading a lot at the pool. I remember the weekend that session ended, I fell asleep at 8pm on Saturday and didn't wake up until 12 noon on Sunday. I was beat.
Last fall I found out I was pregnant, right in the heart of my busiest semester ever. I would sit in my class trying not to vomit as 'morning' sickness would kill me each night. Months 4-8 of my pregnancy consisted of me going to a night class twice a week, getting bigger and peeing more each week. I barely fit in the desk by the end of the semester.
I started this last semester when Ireland was about 6 weeks old. I started this semester before I returned to work. The beginning of the semester was the sign that maternity leave would soon come to a close. I had a book that I had to read for an assignment that sat on my ottoman for a month, because every time I looked at it, I thought Ireland was much more fun. It was a struggle to get and stay focused this semester. But, I did it. I made it. Well, almost. In 48 hours, after I read 4 more papers and do a mock defense, I can say I did it.
I would not have done it without MP. Not only has he been one of my biggest cheerleaders, but he has TOLERATED me. That alone deserves an award
My mom has listened to me bitch about school, or something that was affected by school. She too has cheered me on and rooted for me. She also owes me $5 for every A. :)
My big icker (big sister) was another cheerleader. It was her who got me to actually do the podcast projects when I was tempted to take a zero for the project. She's also one of the only people who truly understands what its like to have insomnia and I love that she 'gets' it. Even though it is a shitty thing to 'get'.
I am so excited to wear my hooded graduate regalia in a few weeks. I am so excited that I finally accomplished a goal that kept popping into my life. I look forward to the possibilities this education brings into my life.
To PhD or not...that IS the question! I can say that I won't PhD for a while...but I hope that goal will creep up in my life until I accomplish that, too!
But for now - I'm hoping to sleep. I'm hoping to exercise more. I'm hoping to sit on the couch more. I know I will play with Ireland more and read all those books like 'The Help' that I've put off for 2.5 years.
Hello Free Time!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
I'm on my second beer...
They say beer helps you produce more breast milk.....at this point, I just like the taste.
I have had a day. Not a bad day. Not an amazing day. Just a normal day that somehow feels different due to a bunch of emotions...
I feel like I could write about a lot of things and I'm experiencing high amounts of ADD today....so bear with me as I share some highs and lows, in no particular order.
Low
I think, as a result of my weekend trip, that I'm losing my milk production, again. I am working hard, again, to increase it. I think using my hand pump all weekend was not as good as using the hospital grade pump I am typically attached to. So, today I have created significantly less milk. The emotional roller coaster this puts me on is insane. On Friday, I had more milk then I can could handle and had to get freezer bags at the beach to store. Today, I am ripping through my frozen stash. Exhausting. Furthermore, I need to up the amount of per bottle mama juice that I give Ireland. So, looks like we are going to be introducing a few ounces of formula a day before long. I am not going to sit here and share the 100 reasons why I do not want to give her formula. But, I don't want to, bottom line. So my heart hurts. My head hurts. My boobs hurt. I am defeated. I feel inadequate and it pisses me off. There is nothing anyone can say. I know I am not a bad mom because I have to give formula. I would be a bad mom if I don't, and I let my child starve. However, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that my body is not cooperating. And right now its hard to accept. I will get over it. Ireland will be fine. But today, dammit, I am emotional about it. I can cry about it at the drop of a hat, as I started to at daycare. I am a hot mess.
High
Daycare - You know, when I write that hefty check each month to let someone else care for my child, it is something else that breaks my heart. I do not know that I want to be a full time stay at home mom, but I also do not want to miss out on the day to day adventures of my amazing daughter. The last few times I've been to daycare to bring or pick up Ireland, I have been pleased. I realized that I really like this daycare. I remember the day that MP and I toured daycare facilities and I kept coming back to this one.I am SO glad that I did. These women that I've gotten to know, they love my child. My child actually brightens their day. Knowing this fills my heart with warmth on a level I have never felt before. These women, who are amazing at what they do, look forward to seeing my child. How cool is that?!?! Miss Val will outright tell you that she loves all her babies, but that Ireland is her girl. She will call her 'boo' and is sad when Ireland leaves. She has three children of her own, two of which attend the same daycare. She gets my pain, whether she realizes she does or not. And her adoration of my child helps me leave that classroom every day. I trust she is in good hands. I also love that they do so much with the kids. Today, I watched as Ireland laid on her tummy watching Miss Tasha read a book to the kids. I laughed as all three teachers were watching Ireland try to crawl, in amazement saying she is so smart. (Yes, my almost 4 month old girl is trying to move, she can scoot and rotate). Then today they told me that some of the other parents call Ireland the showoff - because her tummy/head lifting skills are stronger than some kids older than her. It may be something silly, but it only reaffirms that my work with Ireland already is not wasted. Not because she is doing something before someone else. But because my efforts are not wasted. Every time I put her on her belly and encourage her to roll over - it paid off, I helped my child learn skills. My child is a rolling queen. My efforts of reading to her every day has paid off, because she is watching a teacher read and enjoying it. One small win for the mom today.
Low
Godparents - speaking of Ireland and what's good for her...
I know that at the end of the day love is the most important thing that anyone can give Ireland. It doesn't matter if she has formula or if her rolling skills are above par. What matters is that she is loved unconditionally.
Go with me on this....I'll get to the point....
In the Catholic church, I have two Godparents. In my heart, I have one Godparent - My Godmother, who I call my Fairy God Mother. In my heart and in my book, you don't just get the name of Fairy God Mother because you are a Godmother. You EARN the title... and my Godmother did just that. My Godfather on the other hand failed me. He also failed his deceased brother, my father. Shit happens. I get it. Its a tired old story about abandonment and I refuse to be defeated by it. I love despite it.
I got the news early Monday morning that my Godfather passed away. I knew the day was coming. I am sad that he is gone. I am sad for his wife because I cannot fathom what it is like to lose your only ally left in life. I am sad for my aunt and uncle who lost a brother, again, far too young. I am also very sad that its final. There is no more chance of redemption of his behalf. I gave him chances that he didn't take, but I am pleased I saw him right after I was married and that he got to meet my amazing husband. I loved this man, unconditionally, even when others thought I was wrong to love. I loved him when he gave me no reason to. I have no regrets. I choose not to be angry. I pray that he rests in peace, finally pain free. I hope that my father has greeted him with open arms.
All of this got me thinking about Ireland and the Godparents I chose for her. I pray that she never knows the pain I have felt from being forgotten by a Godparent. Maybe my Fairy Godmother set the bar too high. But, in my book, a Godparent is an ally. It's a best friend, a confidant. It is someone who spoils you, even when you don't deserve it. It someone who goes above and beyond - in anyway that they can when they can. That is what I hope that Ireland gets out of the people I asked to be her Godparents. I think she will. But it just reminded me how there are going to be so many things in Ireland's life that I can't control. That I will be unable to shelter her from. Pain that she will feel that I will feel worse. I just hope that Ireland always has family that remembers that she is a kid that deserves love, always, even when she is 31 and parenting her own kid.
High
I ran a mile today without stopping. Small feat for most, but I hate running. I'm also running with boobs bigger than my face and more weight on my body than I should have. I'm going to keep pushing it.
High/Low
I hate to be vague. TRUST ME, I hate to vague, but I have to be for now. I have a potential change on the horizon. I am praying that it transpires. It's a high because I love a hopeful future. Low because if it doesn't pan out, I will be bummed, even if its what is meant to be.
High
Graduate school is ALMOST over. 2.5 years of working my butt off is about to come to a close. It feels GOOD.
High
My daughter has the best smile, ever, and a laugh that is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. We played tonight. We read books. We giggled and laid on our sides and snuggled each other. She fell asleep in my lap.
High
My husband did the dishes and cleaned out the garage today.
Well look at that. The highs outweigh the lows...guess its always in perspective! :)
I have had a day. Not a bad day. Not an amazing day. Just a normal day that somehow feels different due to a bunch of emotions...
I feel like I could write about a lot of things and I'm experiencing high amounts of ADD today....so bear with me as I share some highs and lows, in no particular order.
Low
I think, as a result of my weekend trip, that I'm losing my milk production, again. I am working hard, again, to increase it. I think using my hand pump all weekend was not as good as using the hospital grade pump I am typically attached to. So, today I have created significantly less milk. The emotional roller coaster this puts me on is insane. On Friday, I had more milk then I can could handle and had to get freezer bags at the beach to store. Today, I am ripping through my frozen stash. Exhausting. Furthermore, I need to up the amount of per bottle mama juice that I give Ireland. So, looks like we are going to be introducing a few ounces of formula a day before long. I am not going to sit here and share the 100 reasons why I do not want to give her formula. But, I don't want to, bottom line. So my heart hurts. My head hurts. My boobs hurt. I am defeated. I feel inadequate and it pisses me off. There is nothing anyone can say. I know I am not a bad mom because I have to give formula. I would be a bad mom if I don't, and I let my child starve. However, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that my body is not cooperating. And right now its hard to accept. I will get over it. Ireland will be fine. But today, dammit, I am emotional about it. I can cry about it at the drop of a hat, as I started to at daycare. I am a hot mess.
High
Daycare - You know, when I write that hefty check each month to let someone else care for my child, it is something else that breaks my heart. I do not know that I want to be a full time stay at home mom, but I also do not want to miss out on the day to day adventures of my amazing daughter. The last few times I've been to daycare to bring or pick up Ireland, I have been pleased. I realized that I really like this daycare. I remember the day that MP and I toured daycare facilities and I kept coming back to this one.I am SO glad that I did. These women that I've gotten to know, they love my child. My child actually brightens their day. Knowing this fills my heart with warmth on a level I have never felt before. These women, who are amazing at what they do, look forward to seeing my child. How cool is that?!?! Miss Val will outright tell you that she loves all her babies, but that Ireland is her girl. She will call her 'boo' and is sad when Ireland leaves. She has three children of her own, two of which attend the same daycare. She gets my pain, whether she realizes she does or not. And her adoration of my child helps me leave that classroom every day. I trust she is in good hands. I also love that they do so much with the kids. Today, I watched as Ireland laid on her tummy watching Miss Tasha read a book to the kids. I laughed as all three teachers were watching Ireland try to crawl, in amazement saying she is so smart. (Yes, my almost 4 month old girl is trying to move, she can scoot and rotate). Then today they told me that some of the other parents call Ireland the showoff - because her tummy/head lifting skills are stronger than some kids older than her. It may be something silly, but it only reaffirms that my work with Ireland already is not wasted. Not because she is doing something before someone else. But because my efforts are not wasted. Every time I put her on her belly and encourage her to roll over - it paid off, I helped my child learn skills. My child is a rolling queen. My efforts of reading to her every day has paid off, because she is watching a teacher read and enjoying it. One small win for the mom today.
Low
Godparents - speaking of Ireland and what's good for her...
I know that at the end of the day love is the most important thing that anyone can give Ireland. It doesn't matter if she has formula or if her rolling skills are above par. What matters is that she is loved unconditionally.
Go with me on this....I'll get to the point....
In the Catholic church, I have two Godparents. In my heart, I have one Godparent - My Godmother, who I call my Fairy God Mother. In my heart and in my book, you don't just get the name of Fairy God Mother because you are a Godmother. You EARN the title... and my Godmother did just that. My Godfather on the other hand failed me. He also failed his deceased brother, my father. Shit happens. I get it. Its a tired old story about abandonment and I refuse to be defeated by it. I love despite it.
I got the news early Monday morning that my Godfather passed away. I knew the day was coming. I am sad that he is gone. I am sad for his wife because I cannot fathom what it is like to lose your only ally left in life. I am sad for my aunt and uncle who lost a brother, again, far too young. I am also very sad that its final. There is no more chance of redemption of his behalf. I gave him chances that he didn't take, but I am pleased I saw him right after I was married and that he got to meet my amazing husband. I loved this man, unconditionally, even when others thought I was wrong to love. I loved him when he gave me no reason to. I have no regrets. I choose not to be angry. I pray that he rests in peace, finally pain free. I hope that my father has greeted him with open arms.
All of this got me thinking about Ireland and the Godparents I chose for her. I pray that she never knows the pain I have felt from being forgotten by a Godparent. Maybe my Fairy Godmother set the bar too high. But, in my book, a Godparent is an ally. It's a best friend, a confidant. It is someone who spoils you, even when you don't deserve it. It someone who goes above and beyond - in anyway that they can when they can. That is what I hope that Ireland gets out of the people I asked to be her Godparents. I think she will. But it just reminded me how there are going to be so many things in Ireland's life that I can't control. That I will be unable to shelter her from. Pain that she will feel that I will feel worse. I just hope that Ireland always has family that remembers that she is a kid that deserves love, always, even when she is 31 and parenting her own kid.
High
I ran a mile today without stopping. Small feat for most, but I hate running. I'm also running with boobs bigger than my face and more weight on my body than I should have. I'm going to keep pushing it.
High/Low
I hate to be vague. TRUST ME, I hate to vague, but I have to be for now. I have a potential change on the horizon. I am praying that it transpires. It's a high because I love a hopeful future. Low because if it doesn't pan out, I will be bummed, even if its what is meant to be.
High
Graduate school is ALMOST over. 2.5 years of working my butt off is about to come to a close. It feels GOOD.
High
My daughter has the best smile, ever, and a laugh that is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. We played tonight. We read books. We giggled and laid on our sides and snuggled each other. She fell asleep in my lap.
High
My husband did the dishes and cleaned out the garage today.
Well look at that. The highs outweigh the lows...guess its always in perspective! :)
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Travelling with Ireland
Well, we did it. We made our first trip with Ireland - and all three of us came out alive...well...basically anyhow.
MP has been competing in triathlons, and I intend to do my first one in May. As a result, when MP suggested we take off to Panama City Beach, Florida to watch the Florida Ironman, I said, "lets go!"
We briefly discussed asking a few people to watch Ireland for the weekend, but in the end we didn't think it was the right thing to do. Plus, I think we both needed something to give us our first taste of travelling with a mini us.
I spent last week putting together a list of things I would need to bring. You know, because this is what women do. The men just focus on rushing our asses out the door. So, in an effort to be prepared, I worked off my list. I got up early on Friday and got a bag together for Ireland and I...score! Then I got all the other bags....
We loaded up and got on our way around 3pm on Friday, after swinging by daycare to pick up the love of our lives. Off we went.... Ireland napped right away until about 5pm. We stopped to eat and soon after we got back on the road she slept again until 10pm. I thought this would be a recipe for disaster, setting her up for no sleep that night in the hotel. But, we were lucky.
We got to the hotel and checked in and got her in her PJ's. She was anxious to do tummy time, so we set her on the bed and she just showed us how she can hold her head up! Then she showed us her new trick which is turning around to watch someone and 'scooting'. After a bit, we shut off the lives and off to bed she went.
We got up bright and early on Saturday to watch the beginning of the race. The professionals were due in the water at 6:50am. No thank you. But, we were there to watch them dive into the 68 degree water while it was like 48 outside. Ireland was in the Baby Bjorn, all bundled up, keeping me warm! She napped and I used her blanket as a wind breaker.
We then spent the rest of the day either "watching people exercise" as Renee would say or arguing. Aruging about where to watch, what to do eat, when to go back to the hotel to give the baby a nap, and so forth. It was also spent watching some amazing atheletes. The respect I have for these folks in intense.
Travellign with a four month old baby was a whole new exerience. I do not regret it and I will do it again. But it did remind me that MP and I desperately need a night or two away, withou little Miss Ireland. I think it would serve all three of us very well.
We made it back in time to relax a little - and I finished my comps! Wahoo!
So tired....
MP has been competing in triathlons, and I intend to do my first one in May. As a result, when MP suggested we take off to Panama City Beach, Florida to watch the Florida Ironman, I said, "lets go!"
We briefly discussed asking a few people to watch Ireland for the weekend, but in the end we didn't think it was the right thing to do. Plus, I think we both needed something to give us our first taste of travelling with a mini us.
I spent last week putting together a list of things I would need to bring. You know, because this is what women do. The men just focus on rushing our asses out the door. So, in an effort to be prepared, I worked off my list. I got up early on Friday and got a bag together for Ireland and I...score! Then I got all the other bags....
We loaded up and got on our way around 3pm on Friday, after swinging by daycare to pick up the love of our lives. Off we went.... Ireland napped right away until about 5pm. We stopped to eat and soon after we got back on the road she slept again until 10pm. I thought this would be a recipe for disaster, setting her up for no sleep that night in the hotel. But, we were lucky.
We got to the hotel and checked in and got her in her PJ's. She was anxious to do tummy time, so we set her on the bed and she just showed us how she can hold her head up! Then she showed us her new trick which is turning around to watch someone and 'scooting'. After a bit, we shut off the lives and off to bed she went.
We got up bright and early on Saturday to watch the beginning of the race. The professionals were due in the water at 6:50am. No thank you. But, we were there to watch them dive into the 68 degree water while it was like 48 outside. Ireland was in the Baby Bjorn, all bundled up, keeping me warm! She napped and I used her blanket as a wind breaker.
We then spent the rest of the day either "watching people exercise" as Renee would say or arguing. Aruging about where to watch, what to do eat, when to go back to the hotel to give the baby a nap, and so forth. It was also spent watching some amazing atheletes. The respect I have for these folks in intense.
Travellign with a four month old baby was a whole new exerience. I do not regret it and I will do it again. But it did remind me that MP and I desperately need a night or two away, withou little Miss Ireland. I think it would serve all three of us very well.
We made it back in time to relax a little - and I finished my comps! Wahoo!
So tired....
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