Posts Tagged ‘life’

I’m in a weird state of wanting and having so many things to write about – but somehow I just haven’t made the time. I have a feeling in a few weeks I may be writing a lot more again.

I’m currently 33 weeks and 2 days pregnant. Holy moly time flies when you’re pregnant. I’m officially in the getting uncomfortable stage. There are still moments/hours where I forget I’m pregnant (seriously, sometimes I feel so normal) but now there are more and more moments (usually at night) where I feel very much pregnant. I can’t always catch my breath, can’t get comfortable, piercing back pains (mid and upper back, not lower like I expected), hip pain, feeling super hungry then super full, and lots of tossing and turning at night.

I’m also sort of over all the pregnancy comments and advice at this point. I take it all in stride, and truthfully it’ll probably only get worse once I have a newborn but it’s funny how much and what people comment about. The amount of people who will negatively comment about what I choose to not eat/drink it so surprising (I guess I expected it the other way, people telling me not to eat or drink things versus questioning when I don’t). It’s funny because I know people who have gone on such restrictive diets – be in juice cleanses, paleo, whole30, whatever the case to lose weight (in a healthy or even not so healthy way) and choose not to eat things because it doesn’t make them feel good or impacts them in some way (the amount of dairy free, gluten-free, caffeine free, etc. friends I have has I swear doubled) – and yet when I say no, sorry, I’m not drinking any alcohol, no I’m not eating lunch meats, etc. it becomes almost an argument. “you really can’t have any? Would once really be that bad? Is this little bit of cheese really going to do anything?” It’s like…giving up some unpasteurized cheese, runny eggs, or a glass of wine for 9 months – is nothing compared to making sure this is a healthy baby that I don’t hurt in any way shape or form. More than ever I care about what I am putting into my body because it’s not just about me. At the same time too, I would never ever judge anyone for what they decide to do or not do when pregnant. I would never, ever forgive myself it anything happened as a result of that one time. If they comfortable doing something – it’s their body and their baby – it’s not something I would ever comment on! I mean… do you know how many nights in a row I have eaten rocky road ice cream? Maybe someone should comment on that, ha. 🙂

I have these moments where I feel so lucky, blessed and excited (borderline impatient) for this little girl to arrive. Then to be honest I am having more and more moments of fear. It’s so soon! I just can’t fathom how things will change. How the Husband and I will change, how it won’t just be “us” anymore, how it will impact Bentley, how tired I’ll be, if I’ll feel alone at all, what if I don’t feel the immediate connection with her and I’m not a “natural” mom? What if I completely feel lost and depressed by staying home for 14 weeks – and not working – something I have done since the age of 13 without break. What if I take out my tired/frustration/fears on the Husband and we totally crumble? What if all we can talk about – to each other and everyone else – is diapers and poop and babies?

Things with Bentley have been a little crazy over the past few weeks – but somehow I think it all worked out for the best. Long story short, we got a call two weeks or so ago that right after Bentley was dropped at his daycare, he bit another dog. Apparently a dog was jumping on him, the owner saw Bentley growl at the dog, the dog kept jumping on him and Bentley turned his head and bit the dog. He bit her right on the head so it caused an open gash and that dog had to go to the vet. Unfortunately, the daycare owner said he just can’t watch the dogs that closely – and that Bentley seems to want to be able to have personal space throughout the day at different times and since this is one open room for 30 dogs, that doesn’t work and unfortunately now that he has bitten another dog, he just isn’t allowed to return. In other words, my dog got expelled!

I had some immediate reactions when I got the call. First, like a failed parent, I felt embarrassed. Then upset. Then, and maybe I’m rationalizing it, a little annoyed. I mean he admitted to seeing Bentley show a warning sign – and still did not separate them. Then totally overwhelmed – we were about to go away to a wedding in Baltimore the week after, and where would he stay if not at his normal daycare? Then I took action, as fast as I could. First the Husband picked him up, and the owner reiterated the story – and apparently seemed sad about it since they like him and he’s been going there for a year now, but quickly we started realizing – maybe he doesn’t love it as much as we thought. And maybe a place with that many dogs and no personal space isn’t the best place for him anyway, especially with his aloof shepherd qualities. And so I quickly found an alternative for boarding – a place actually closer to us that my Aunt brings her two dogs (who would also be boarded at the same time since she and my uncle were coming to the same wedding). In the end Bentley had his own kennel and run, and was taken out twice a day to play with his Westie cousin dogs, and walked by the Mom and daughter who own the place. He got rave reviews and came home happy and exhausted.

In terms of a daycare – I think we are realizing – maybe he doesn’t need 3+ days of daycare a week. Instead, we have found a new place that he is doing a trial at today, also closer to home, where we can bring him if he likes it maybe 1x a week just to get his zoomies out and keep him socialized. I was completely honest with the woman about what happened at the previous daycare and so they will begin with “day boarding” – where he gets his own room, toys, and will be taken out on 5 short walks a day and will meet dogs one by one through a fence or in the play yard if they see it as a good fit. If he enjoys being around the other dogs, then he will join playtime with a maximum group of 7 dogs with the same temperament. All dogs have “nap/quiet time” in their own rooms from 12:30-2:30 which I think is a good break for him anyway. So we’ll see how it goes. Overall reducing his daycare will save us a couple hundred a month!

I have to admit, one of the best things about keeping him home – while it makes me feel bad that he sits in the house on my non WFH days from about 11am-6pm alone – is that the Husband and I are actually spending more quality time with him. He used to come home from daycare so utterly exhausted he would go up to the bed and sleep. Now we play more outside (he loves to sprint through the yard, but only if we are outside watching), we’re doing tricks and training again at night – lots of puzzles, he seems to enjoy being in the house more and is almost always by our sides, and he’s already being a bit more social with people when they come over. It only takes about 10-15 minutes of sprints outside to completely exhaust him, something I can easily do in the mornings before work and at night when I get home. To be honest, I forgot how much fun I have when we play and do training, and most of the time, he seems content to just be around us.

I’m going through a strange phase at work. One minute I’m pushing hard, focused, and getting so much done (I think preparing to be out) and then moments of pure impatience, frustration with little things, and just wanting to get to the point where I’m going out on leave. I know I will want to go out feeling like I got everything I could done, so I need to spend the next few weeks really focusing on work.

I’m also going through a phase where I really want to make an effort to make plans and spend time with friends and family while I can – but more specifically – positive people who also make an effort too. I’m sort of tired of trying so hard when it’s not reciprocated or leaving hangouts feeling negative or mentally exhausted and drained, especially when I have some new (well not new, but not my regular core group) making a good effort to see me. I have dinner with a handful of girlfriends this Wednesday, dinner with two old college friends who I don’t see often but one is about a month behind me in her pregnancy, on Thursday, a full day of brunch and my sister’s dance show on Saturday with my Mom, my Mother-in-law, Sister-in-law and two family friends, then mid next week dinner with my old boss and coworker. I’m also trying to keep some time free on weekends for organizing and cleaning in preparation of the baby. The Husband and I also have a full Saturday birthing class coming up, as well as a night where we tour/go through the practice triage process in the hospital, a friend’s birthday that I’m hoping to spend some time with her celebrating, my baby shower later this month (with a few college friends making it a big girls sleepover weekend – the highlight of my month!), and more. I think January is going to fly by!

Funny story, the Husband and I had a wedding down in Baltimore over New Year’s Eve. It was actually so fun, even at 8 months pregnant and sober, and I loved getting all the extra family time for the few days (with moments of course of I NEED SPACE). My cousin, who was the one getting married, actually shares a friend with B (yes, that B). Ironically, this friend and his wife are pregnant, so my cousin sat them at our table, also with my sister and cousins. Somehow they ended up sitting right next to the Husband. I didn’t actually put two and two together until halfway through dinner – and I never said anything to him or anyone about it. What is sort of funny about it though is that there were SO many glasses on the table (4 per person, plus any glasses people brought with their own drinks from the bar) so when the husband sat down at one point he hit a champagne glass that went flying and COVERED this guy (he might as well have thrown it directly in his face). He took it very nicely, and I could tell the Husband felt so bad (but at 230lbs, 6’3 and a regular bull in a china shop he just can’t be near that many glasses). I have no idea if he connected who I was, but hopefully he doesn’t think it was on purpose. Well, actually I don’t really care as I’ll never see them again. 😉

My dreams lately when I do sleep, are crazy. I think my fears and anxieties are coming into play in my sleep because I have had countless dreams of fighting with friends, including a fist fight with my best friend from home (which is hilarious to think about in real life because it would never, ever happen). A number of dreams and scenarios of the Husband either cheating on me (and me seeing it, ugh) or him not paying attention to me and me feeling really sad and alone. It doesn’t take much to see what my dreams are getting at, but man I wish they would stop. As it is I’m practically an insomniac at this point and when I do sleep, to wake up feeling like crap after a dream like that really isn’t fun.

Somehow over the Holiday time off the Husband and I watched 4 movies. Gone Girl, the Good Lie, the Equalizer and This is Where I leave You. I read Gone Girl so had been dying to see it, but as always the case, it just wasn’t as good as the book. I swear in the book they did a better job of making you hate them equally, while in the movie, you have far more hate towards the wife. The Husband also figured out the plot far earlier than I did in the book – be it his detective skills or the hints were just easier to pick up on. The Good Lie was a great movie, based off the Lost Boys from Sudan and it definitely made us remember how damn lucky we are in America and with what we have. The Equalizer was silly – the Husband liked it because it was Denzel and it was a revenge type of movie – it was predictable but entertaining. This is Where I Leave You was my favorite and just my type of movie. The kind that is a little dark, funny, makes you laugh/cry and sort of is just an honest look at regular life and being an adult.

I think from now on I may just write more. My posts may not be put together, grammatically correct, or even make any coherent sense – but I miss writing so much. I miss pouring out my thoughts, memories and experiences even if they are just for me to reread one day.

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I can’t believe I’m into my third trimester of pregnancy already. I swear, sometimes I feel like time is just flying.

At 29 weeks and 2 days (7 months, 1 week and 2 days) pregnant I’m…

Feeling pretty good still. Although for the first time I’m starting to really feel pregnant. My stomach feels expanded, my left rib hurts, my back is sore and I’m falling asleep on the couch by 10pm every night but then waking up with crazy insomnia.

Loving the kicking and movement. As strange as it is (it really is odd at first) it’s been fun to share the movement with everyone else. The Husband can feel it at night when we’re sitting on the couch and she seems to be the most active and riled up. Sometimes she even keeps me from falling asleep because I swear she’s doing jumping jacks.

As excited, and happy and blessed as I feel and truly can’t wait to meet her I’m having these crazy strange nostalgic moments. Like sometimes I get almost sad thinking, it’ll never be just Husband and myself again (ha, or Husband, myself and Bentley). I’m also having these (more so fleeting) thoughts of I’ll never quite get to schedule things the way I want anymore – like just going to a flywheel class when I want to, or staying late at work. I know it’ll all work itself out and we will create a new normal, just like with Bentley, but it is interesting to go through this set of emotions too.

Also, I never even posted about the amazing babymoon weekend we took to Stowe, Vermont. If I could recommend one thing to do during pregnancy, this would be it. Let’s just say it was a lot of eating, sleeping and just relaxing and it was magical.



I’m also going through what I imagine is more nesting. Which I L-O-V-E. Hello can I just be that productive all the time? I hammered out 72 Christmas cards just because I HAD to the other night. I am constantly organizing, purging, cooking and cleaning and slowly feeling like things in the house have a place, and I love everything that’s actually in the house. The only struggle I’m facing now is that with being more tired the last week or so, it’s hard to do all the things I want (need in my mind) to do.

I experienced my first cold while sick and that was probably the most brutal thing ever. Everything hurt, and not being able to take a darn thing was really frustrating.

To be honest I’m also getting a little scared. Scared that I have no control over when I’ll actually have her. For all I know I could go early in the next 6 weeks – but then I could be late and that means I still have 11 weeks left! Scared that being out of work for a few months will make it hard to return – like I won’t be as good at my job anymore. Scared that I won’t get to see my friends as much and miss out on a lot of things. Scared that I’ll become one of those Moms that only wants to talk about babies, and baby things, and gives up her life. I know that’s not me and who I am, but I can’t fathom what this all will be like. I’m scared that I’ll go crazy with too much family time and help after her birth (everyone keeps scheduling trips and planning times to stay with us and help but didn’t really ask us what help is needed, and add in that the Husband’s parents want to stop by daily…) I know I can’t picture it and maybe I’ll appreciate the help but all I can envision is not getting a second alone with my daughter, bleeding out of many orifices, and trying to walk around half-naked to feed my child and then there are people…everywhere.

I’m scared that Bentley will feel so out-of-place. I’m so tired of people saying once we have this baby he will just become a dog or we’ll “forget about him” because I can promise you, we won’t. I love that dog fiercely and while I know he isn’t my child, whether it’s difficult or not – that dog is part of our family and will always have a place with us. Maybe not as big of a place in our bed though…

MUST be squished between us. (He appears much smaller than his 60lb body actually is.)

MUST be squished between us. (He appears much smaller than his 60lb body actually is.)

And truthfully, I’m most scared of messing her up. I constantly watch women and girls now – I can see these glaring insecurities, jealousies, unhappiness, and unfavorable traits and how do you make sure not to do something that will totally mess up your child’s life and cause issues like that? What if I say or do one thing, and it spirals into an eating disorder, or a need for the wrong attention? What if the Husband isn’t as active as I want and that takes a toll on her, and one that unfortunately I can’t fill because she needs her Daddy.

Somehow though, even among the fears and discomfort, it all just feels so right now, more than ever. I just cannot wait to start this chapter of our lives.

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I had a long conversation with my Mom on Tuesday. It’s funny actually, in the past few years, especially since getting married I tend to go to the Husband for almost everything but, there are still times when I need my Mom. She asked exactly what everyone else has been asking. Well, in her therapist like Mom way.

Why are you doing the half-ironman?
For a number of reasons I said, first for fun, second for fitness and third it’s something I’ve always had in the back of my mind to do in my lifetime.

Well, are you having fun?
The answer was no. For a few months now, it’s obviously clear I’ve been struggling. Workouts that should be fun became a chore. Training somehow always became lowest priority. Anxiety and stress was always looming. I found myself so moody and negative when thinking of the months ahead. The whole point was to enjoy the next few months as much as possible before trying to expand our family, and I feel like we’re now in the opposite place. I’m wishing away the time.

Are you getting fit?
Yes, although I’m not losing weight because I’m stress eating. I keep wanting to try to change around my diet but keep fearing of messing with my training. But endurance and strength wise, I’m doing really well. I would regret stopping training in all ways or not doing something with my training.

Is this the only time in your life you think you can do a half-ironman?
No, it’s not. I hope it’s not at least. I have future fitness goals of all sorts.. a half ironman… a marathon…short races post baby like 5ks and 10ks. I want to do it all for the rest of my life.

And so the answer became a bit more clear. I’m not doing the half-ironman this year.

I am signed up and doing a triathlon at the end of June in its place, when my Mom will actually be home from Alaska and plans to come watch. A race that is 4 miles from my in-laws meaning everyone can come watch, and then we can all go to a celebratory breakfast after.

I don’t know if I’ll regret this decision. I just know that right now, I don’t. I feel relief. I feel happiness. I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. Something in my gut kept saying now isn’t the time – some fear, not even about physically finishing but more so the risks involved – and it wouldn’t go away. And so now, I feel pretty pumped about competing in a regular triathlon. One that with my recent training, I’m actually excited to crush in comparison to any tri I’ve done before.

The hardest part, or so I thought would be, was telling everyone. Each conversation I felt like a failure when I started to explain that I’ve dropped out this year. Yet each time, friends and family were unbelievably understanding and all reminded me of the same thing – if I’m doing it for fun, and it’s not fun, it’s defeating the purpose. It’s been sort of  a “duh” moment really.

This Saturday I’m going on an early morning ride with two girlfriends. Then this Sunday I have my duathlon. Then a few weeks of training, training that I’m actually really excited to do, and training that won’t be taking over my life, before crushing this June triathlon. In the meantime, I want to just enjoy the next few months. I want to go St. Thomas with all the women in my family in May and lay on the beach, eat, drink, and get a few workouts in – relaxing in the best possible way. I want to eat healthier. I want to spend time with the Husband and friends. I want to make plans at last-minute, I want to sleep in, I want to have a glass of wine or two without feeling guilty. There’s a real possibility we want to start trying to expand our family this summer, and more than ever, I need to be honest with myself about how I want to spend my time.

So here’s to the next few months – enjoying life and being true to myself.

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Last night I dreamt of B. Yeah, that B. Oddly I don’t remember the dream, I just know I woke up feeling a deep sadness.

I can’t really remember the last time I talked to him. I know it’s been over 2 years now since an actual conversation. Almost a full year since even a polite “happy birthday” text.

The feeling I woke up with was more nostalgia I guess than sadness. At times I miss how simple life felt back then, and with B. Get in the car and drive to Maine for the weekend. Hop a flight to Canada or Ireland. Meet after work for dinner in the city and stay up until 1am having deep conversations. Jam pack one long date day from 7am coffee and breakfast on until 11pm bedtime.

But the truth is, it’s not B who I miss. Because when I really remember how I felt back then it was… unsure. Anxious. This feeling of skating on thin ice, always. Deep down I knew very early on, that B didn’t want to get married and have kids. Yet, we connected deeply on many other levels, but never on our main values. So we continued on, happily at times, but always I knew – if and when I brought up that someday I wanted those things, he’d let me go. And eventually I did bring them up, and immediately, he let me go.

The more I’ve thought about it this morning, the more I realize that the nostalgia for those times is because life lately, and in the past year has just felt so busy. Sure sometimes it’s busy with really fun and great things. And sometimes it’s busy with crap that I don’t want to do. Lately I feel more and more like my time is less my time, and more time to meet obligations.

Part of it is perspective. Part of its changed priorities. Part of it is getting older, and becoming more established – in my marriage, career, with friends and family. Starting a family, even if that just means adopting Bentley.

Looking back, when I was with B I was working a job versus a career. I was finishing up my masters. I was 24 years old and everything felt exciting and fun and nothing felt that serious. Everything was about change, and it was supposed to be.

Now, money and savings are far more important. Trying to buy or build a house is a priority. Taking care of a puppy is a serious responsibility. Work isn’t just a 9-5, I’m frequently having 12 hour days. Marriage takes work, compromise and time… time that somehow keeps slipping away. I don’t see the Husband during the week anymore. We get to sleep together (which I love) but he usually gets home after 10pm. So we have weekends.

But weekends, oh the weekends. They are full of seeing this person or that person visiting, or this baby shower, or that wedding shower, or this wedding, or that 30th birthday. Sometimes the Husband can come along, but many times he can’t.

Oh and training. Fitting in training. 3+ hour bike rides on the weekend too.

Jeez, I need to snap out of this funk today.

Nothing changes if nothing changes…

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Very early Friday morning I was woken up by the Husband coming in. As soon as I heard him I started telling him how Bentley spent the night whining, and finally I let him sleep with me on the bed to stop his whining (he usually loves his crate, the whole thing was rather abnormal). I didn’t sleep well because for a still small puppy, he sure spreads out. The Husband listened and then said, “I got into an accident last night”.

I say, “what?” and flip on the light.

And standing there is my Husband with stitches down his forehead, bruised, and a little out of it.

I would like to say I stayed calm, but I immediately jumped up, held back tears…that eventually came out and asked a million questions.

His last night as an officer, and he got into an accident.

Oh the absolutely, incredibly, exciting news? Last week the Husband made detective! A drug unit detective to be exact, the path he has wanted since day one.

And so on his last night on patrol on the overnight shift, he went out with a bang. Literally.

Apparently he got into an icy car accident…with a dump truck. He was rushed via ambulance to the ER. It was at this time that all of his shift decided they shouldn’t call me. I’m still not sure how I feel about this one, but they knew I couldn’t do anything, he was OK aside from needing a few stitches, and they didn’t want me driving at 3am on icy roads to get to the hospital.

And so on Friday I took a personal day. As much as he assured me he was ok, aside from sore and looking like Frankenstein, I couldn’t stomach him being home alone and going to sleep without someone checking on him. Only he spent all of Friday awake. For whatever reason, shock, excitement, discomfort – he stayed awake through 7pm. (At that point he had been awake well over 24 hours.)

I was supposed to head into the city for my friend’s 30th birthday, but I just couldn’t. I had this horrible fear about him going to sleep and not waking up, and I was extremely anxious about leaving him. To the point of going into the bathroom and talking myself down from a full-blown panic attack. A call to my understanding friend (thank God) and I stayed home and he finally went to sleep. Every few hours I went in to the bedroom, woke him up and asked him questions. Later, after having my own relief tear fest, just as I crawled into bed, he turned to me and shouted his birthday, “9-26-84, shh, I am sleeping”. At least we ended the night with a little laugh.

And then there was Saturday.

The cliff notes version. I met my younger sister for a quick spin class, spent the whole time fearing she would faint – since her heart-break diet has made her even more thin than she already is – and then headed home with her in tow as I promised her a full sister day.

A day or two prior I had noticed that Bentley was getting eye discharge, a little darker than the previous normal discharge. And on Saturday morning, his eyes were covered in crust, with dark discharge. Our normal vet doesn’t have weekend hours so I placed a quick call to the pet ER. They gave two options, he could come, get checked out and likely given meds (and confirm it’s not a scratch or worse) or wait to see the regular vet, but chance it to get worse and of course, hold him out of daycare for the first few days of the week. I’m not sure I would have been as concerned if my work friend hadn’t just been in the same scenario which resulted in her dog getting his eye removed last month.

And so off to the pet ER we went. Turns out he has conjunctivitis, just like a human, and we are giving him ointment 3x a day. Apparently very common in dogs, especially ones at daycare who rough house but the vet thought it was good we went so that he can return to daycare on Tuesday.

Bentley was exhausted at this point, thankfully, so I fed him, and crated him and the little sister and I went off to do some shopping and then saw Frozen. Frozen was hilarious, and the perfect sister, cheer you up movie! After we grabbed some food and headed home to eat and hang with Bentley and the Husband. Sister ended up sleeping over since she didn’t want to be alone.

Sunday morning we were up by 6:30am (thanks Bentley) and drinking coffee before I drove the little sister home around 9. Half hour there, then half hour back and I raced to get into the shower to get ready to head out to the Husband’s parent’s house. His Dad, (as a fun side project) built a ton of condos and they were having the first open house. We toured through them, had a nice late lunch, and then drove the hour home finally ending my weekend around 8pm.

The Husband ended up in bed by 9:15pm, still exhausted and getting used to the new schedule.

I sort of spent an hour or so last night getting worked up and anxious.

I don’t know what it is, but I all around can’t stop feeling like a failure when it comes to half-ironman training. Half my training went out the window last week – between snow storms, ER trips, and other priorities. I have this underlying “I can’t do it” feeling which brings me down even more.

And then, the Husband’s new schedule is fantastic in that he has weekends off (woohoo!) but…

His new week day schedule is likely 1pm-9pmish. Meaning I need to get home from work and to doggy daycare by the 6:30pm pick-up time – every week day. I won’t see him on weekdays much and I pretty much need to get my workouts in and completed in the morning since now I don’t have to worry about getting Bentley to daycare since the Hubby can.

The truth is, this is a big change, and 95% a fantastic one. The 5% is just that we need to figure out our new normal, adjust schedules, and now – make time for each other on weekends.

This is an insanely long post but I guess I need to get this out too.

With the exception of my closest Boston friend, and likely my friend S who is always busy too, my other Boston friends and my younger sister, don’t understand the need for me to spend time with my Husband. Sometimes it feels really unfair. It’s a constant judgment if I say I can’t do something to spend time with Jim “because I live with him”. I’m getting frustrated, really frustrated. And anxious, clearly.

In fact, aside from those same two friends, none of my friends said anything along the lines of, “hope the Husband is ok”. I got one text from a friend saying she was sad I didn’t make it to that birthday party – and truthfully I bet she doesn’t even understand why I wanted to stay home with my stitched up and concussed husband. I had let them know what happened, so it’s not that they were unaware.

I guess I just don’t understand their thinking. I love everyone in my life – but I understand when they have other priorities (between work, family, friends, babies, weddings, etc.) or even need their own down time. It doesn’t upset me if they can’t do something, because I know there’s good reason behind it, and I’ll gladly spend time with them when they can.

I think this is really weighing me down a bit. I’m struggling to find balance, and most of all, struggling to find selfish time for me and my workouts. Everything seems to be a priority these days, but the truth is, they aren’t all priorities to me. And yet, I end up feeling guilty and anxious when some friends don’t understand and so I find myself paying $50, driving an hour into the city to walk through a beer fest and not drink because I was driving, with a friend and her boyfriend so she doesn’t get upset, and I end up home at 11pm, unhappy. It’s even harder when every single weekend there are multiple “priority” things. Between Bentley, work, my friends, my family, the Husband’s friends, the Husband’s family, and God forbid trying to make time for just us as a couple… I’m losing it. Cleaning? Organizing? Errands? A hair cut? Who has time for that?!

I just found out my Tokyo project, which includes my evening 7pm -9/10pm calls will continue through September.

I want to run away. But, I know… I just need to take a deep breath.


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High – Low

Using an extra vacation day on Friday to have a full day off from work. Spent the morning shopping and looking for Christmas decorations.

Not finding any “non-tacky but still cheap” Christmas decorations.

Beautiful snow filled hikes and walks with my puppy.

Don't eat the yellow snow

Q Don’t eat the yellow snow

My once sweet little puppy has turned into a rebellious, marking, biting a hole in the wall, chewing on my thongs,all the sudden humping monster.

photo 4

The art of deception

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Spending most of Saturday with my 3 girlfriends celebrating one of their recent engagements. I think we sat in the restaurant sipping champagne, coffee, and eating delicious french toast for almost 4 hours.

photo 1

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Coming home all excited to get snowed in so I had the excuse to do nothing but watch a movie. Realizing TV and recent “just in” movies all suck. Spend $4.99 on Mortal Instruments and cringe at the fake cheesiness for two hours.

Waking up to over a foot of magical, beautiful white snow from the nor’easter.

Having to cancel my massage day with a friend because of the weather.

Cleaning, actually meal planning, and grocery shopping to get prepared for the week ahead.

Realizing after all of that, all I want for dinner is an instant lunch soup and a cup of cocoa with marshmallows. The last time I had one of these soups was after a drunken freshman night in college.

Talking with my Ironman half coach and getting my first week’s plan training starting tomorrow!

Realizing that day one is an hour and a half workout. 30 min swim and 60 min bike. Feeling slight doubts that I can do this…

Loving the snow, and loving it even more since I didn’t even have to shovel. My landlord’s cousin came with his plow and shovel and did our entire driveway and walkway.

The layer of wet snow it left has turned to complete ice and I’ve almost fallen 18 times.

This past weekend really has been wonderful. The highs by far outweighed these silly lows. The only real low is that I miss my husband and I’m so excited he’s home tomorrow! Oh…and the puppy humping thing is a real low too…traumatizing. 

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This too shall pass.

I never used to understand when people talked about their anxiety why they couldn’t just get over it. Sure I’ve always been a worrier, but as a logical planner and an optimist by nature I can usually dispel my worries quickly.

Lately, my days with anxiety seem to be happening more frequently, and I feel myself dealing with it poorly. I let it take over. I cry. I get frustrated and upset with the husband. I pretty much blow everything out of proportion and then get frustrated at myself for letting my emotions take over.

Yesterday between a really hectic work from home day (which is never easy), trying to get Bentley in for his doggie day care interview (which they ended up turning us away when not showing medical records for kennel cough. Apparently it’s clear he has all other shots but no record of kennel cough) and then in what was pretty much my worst nightmare come true, picking up his poop and seeing a long spaghetti looking worm in it.

Yes, gag, I pretty much have to hold back my lunch just thinking about it.

….Time to be thankful I’m not including a picture here…

We gave Bentley his normal Heartguard Plus heartworm monthly preventative yesterday. Apparently that can kill other worms. And out that one came. We immediately called the vet and got a de-wormer and it could be worse since it’s very likely it’s just roundworms. Now we know why he vomited twice in the last week. And thankfully, we have only seen two (dead) ones meaning maybe it’s not a bad infestation. [Shudder.]

But see at this point yesterday – I was running late for a meeting, I was behind on work in general, I had just been turned away from the doggie day care interview after I had just packed up Bentley in the car and drove there, which I was banking on working out so that we can board him over New Year’s when we have a wedding, and then I found the worm. And I need to figure out how to see my friend for her birthday on Saturday night when the dog walker doesn’t do after 2pm on weekends and clearly we can’t send him off to day care or boarding and the husband isn’t sure yet what his work schedule will be. But part of me is annoyed anyway because that same birthday friend is in a ridiculous feud with another friend and therefore skipped out on my birthday because that friend was attending. And the husband leaves for Miami next week meaning I’m alone with the puppy for a good few days. And then my closest friend who I love dearly is turning 30 in a little over a month and is so bummed about the feuding friends (we spent an hour on the phone last night discussing) and not being able to plan something that everyone will attend and have fun at. And somehow I just want to find the best solution because of all people, she deserves a damn good birthday.

And then I got mad at myself thinking who am I? Since when have I been so bad about dealing with stress and anxiety?

Everyone else in my life comes to me in crisis and I can easily dole out fixes. So why does it sometimes feel so catastrophic when it’s me?

So after running to Whole Foods and getting out of the house for an hour, I just told myself to knock it off.

This too shall pass. It really will.

Bentley has worms. Gross, yes. Like really gross. But he’s on the medication and he will be fine. I think the medication made him slightly out of it last night because for the first time in weeks he peed on the carpet and seemed so confused about it. (Otherwise as far as I can tell, he feels absolutely fine, he’s jumping through the agility tire and tunnel we bought the first moment he wakes up!) So he can’t go to doggie day care right now, oh well. The dog walker is coming once a day for a 30 minute walk on days the husband sleeps, and it seems to be perfect for Bentley. And for New Years, we’ll figure it out. The husband’s parent’s (who are not dog lovers) have kindly offered to watch him if needed.

And work will always be work. I need to get my butt in gear and just get things done.

After all of this I spent about two hours last night cleaning. I let my guilt of not playing with the dog go out the window and he just followed me around as I unloaded the dishwasher, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned off counters, did laundry (including his beds and blankets from his crates), swiffered, and changed our bed sheets and duvet. Just having a clean place makes the anxiety dissipate a little.

Now on Saturday most likely the husband will be home for the evening and will feed Bentley then crate him around 9:00pm, which truthfully, he’d be fine until 6am if I wanted to stay out that late. Which I do NOT. But I won’t have to stress out getting home by a specific time. I’ll go see my birthday friend, have dinner, stay for a few hours, and head home and be in bed hopefully by midnight.

Today I’m talking with my half ironman coach (I’ve had a few calls with the company to make sure we’re the right match…we are!). Umm…the training plan will be starting on Monday. MONDAY. I am so excited! While people would think this would add more stress it’s just the opposite. It will force me into working out and having a routine – both of which I love and I’m in need of.

I took off next Friday the 13th and Monday the 16th from work since I have a few days to burn. I’m still having the dog walker come on that Friday. I plan to get up as normal and head to the gym and maybe do a little shopping and just enjoy a few hours to myself. And that Saturday morning I will be going on a walk with my best friend and Bentley giving us time to catch up. Then on that Sunday I’m heading into the city with another friend for our 60 minute birthday massages. Heaven.

This too shall pass. So time to making the passing, even when chaotic, enjoyable.

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In the past few years many of the blogs I used to follow stopped posting. And then since the demise of Google reader I have only been consistently following a handful blogs. A couple of them are blogs that I have followed and connected with (commented on back and forth) for years now. These are blogs that might not even always be frequent posters, and I might not always read or comment right away, but I continue to read them because they’re real. They share the good, the bad, the frustrations, the heartache, and the random. I love them for that.

It’s rare that I’ll follow a non-food/non-home improvement blog that is always peachy keen where everything is always roses. It doesn’t feel as real. But there’s one running blog that I absolutely love, and even though 99.9% of the posts are optimistic, light and fun I have become very attached to her journey these last years. I’ve grown especially vested over the past year watching her become a Mom, raising seriously the cutest one year old girl and still killing it on her runs.

When I was catching up on blogs yesterday and I read her post that started with the fact that she filed for divorce…my heart broke for her. I know, to many it may sound ridiculous – such an attachment to someone you’ve never met in real life – but I can’t explain it. It was an utterly shocking (to many readers) and stomach-wrenching post. I haven’t stopped thinking about her today.

That’s the thing about blogging. We show only what we want to show. What we choose to show. People reading my blog get maybe 10% of my life (unless you know me on Facebook, instagram, and real life in which case you probably know a lot more).

What’s funny though is that 10% you do know as a reader, is probably the 10% I don’t share with most people in real life. Not because I don’t want to, but in day-to-day life I like focusing on the positive and being optimistic seems to just come naturally.

It’s probably why I love that my space isn’t as public as some other blogs. The public blogs seem to feel they have to always be positive, only show the good, and hide the bad as if there is none. To me, it can feel fake or too surface level to enjoy. This is my space to vent, to be frustrated, to rant, and to be introspective. For whatever reason when things are great and easy – I tend to write less. It’s happened over the past few weeks especially. I’ve struggled to find the time and energy to read my favorite blogs, let alone post on my own.

Anyway, reading what this blogger is going through, my heart breaks, it really does. I swear, I have truly only experienced heartbreak once in my life, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. While I wouldn’t take my experience back, I learned from it, I grew from it, and I’m stronger than I could have ever imagined, it’s the darkest place I ever was for a time. I hate to think of anyone else in that same place.

I guess it’s just a good reminder. Blogging is a different type of outlet for everyone. But I would venture to say, that you never, ever, get the full picture in this little space. Something to keep in mind.

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Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can’t tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start


They tell me I’m too young to understand
They say I’m caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don’t open up my eyes
Well that’s fine by me

So wake me up when it’s all over
When I’m wiser and I’m older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn’t know I was lost


I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
I hope I get the chance to travel the world
And I don’t have any plans
Wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life’s a game made for everyone
And love is the prize

So wake me up when it’s all over
When I’m wiser and I’m older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn’t know I was lost

I didn’t know that I was lost


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Follow your arrow

Yesterday morning I got the call. Everyone knows those calls, the ones you dread getting. The moment you pick up you can tell by the person’s tone and your immediate sinking stomach that you’re about to receive bad news.

My Grandfather’s girlfriend passed away Wednesday night. It feels strange to say girlfriend, she really was so much more. After my Grandmother passed away she stepped forward and became such a great companion for my Grandfather. No one could replace my Grandmother, and she knew that, and we loved her even more for understanding that. Anyway, for years she and my Gramp would take a walk together every morning, she made sure he ate 3 healthy meals a day (no butter allowed), and really helped keep him young and happy. At almost 20 years younger it felt like she truly made him feel younger and happier, even without his beloved wife. I vividly remember looking out at both of them sitting with my Mom in the front row during my wedding.

My heart aches for my Grandfather, who has never been alone. I know he’ll be OK, the family will take care of him, but at some point, it must be so exhausting to watch as all of your loved ones die around you. What scares me most, is the thought of losing him next.

As much as I said I like getting older, and with each phase I seem to become happier and more at peace with myself and my life – this is one part I hate. I hate death. I don’t understand death and I never will.

Last night, even though at first I didn’t want to leave my apartment, I went with my sister to watch a dance performance by a dance company that is for young professional adults. She’s thinking of auditioning and wanted to see the various pieces. The first dance of the night was a haunting lyrical piece that I found myself crying to. (Yes, I really cried. I am that person.) Watching someone express their emotion so beautifully with dance and music – to me is just incredible.

It sounds cliché and corny but death and that dance performance made me think about life being short, and my passions and hobbies. Or lack thereof. Sometimes I wish I could be an incredible dancer, or singer, artist , baker – or hell even tennis player. Just to have a hobby I could be passionate about, where I could direct all my emotions into it for release and the kind of hobby that just makes you feel so alive.

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