Running home
When Ryan and I lived in Brooklyn, I always worked later than him. On my way home from work, I would speed walk to the subway, push my way through the crowd, fight to get on the first train, and run all the way home once I got off our stop. I couldn’t believe that no matter what I always wanted to rush home to get to him.
We moved to California, and again I worked later than him. I walked to and from work…but when I walked home, I practically ran. There’s never been a time when I didn’t want to rush right home to him. And now we’re in Phoenix, and he and Kellan are both here. I am lucky I haven’t gotten in an accident the way I race home after work. They make me so happy that I want nothing more than to get right home and see both of their smiling happy faces.
I know someday years and years from now, Kellan will have someone to run home to too.
And PS….why am I always working later than Ry?
The little things.. or one little thing
Every few days I call my grandparents. Years ago when I moved out west I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t forget my family and I wouldn’t let geography stop us from feeling close. I didn’t want them to think I left them or that I didn’t care— and I realize life is short and precious and I’m lucky to even have grandparents alive, especially ones who have been a huge influence in my life.
Today I realized, that while my intent on calling them every few days was to make THEM feel loved and close to me, and make sure that while they’re on this earth they know this granddaughter cares… it has been something that has made ME feel loved and close to THEM. They make my life complete and I can’t imagine not having them to talk to on my mornings into work. Now that I’m a mom, it’s crazy to me how different those morning calls are. I share stories with them about my son… my son! And their great-grandson. They laugh, they cry (well Grandma does), they tell me stories about their kids, about me as a baby, about life… and it’s invaluable to me to be able to have them know about Kellan. What his demeanor is like, what I can imagine his personality to be like, and my absolute joy and excitement for being a mom. Something they both know I always so hoped I’d be good at but doubted significantly.
Sometimes when you think you’re doing something for somebody else, it’s you that benefits. I feel so grateful today, to have the clarity to recognize my great fortune.
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve is perhaps one of the most magical nights of the year for me. Whether or not I’m literally putting cookies out for Santa or not, there’s a lot of mental preparation that goes into Christmas Eve for me. It’s one of my favorite nights ever. The anticipation, the wonder, the hope, the excitement…it’s incredible.
Well every night for the past week feels like Christmas Eve, it really does. I go to bed wondering whether if the next day our family will be 3, not 2. I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll go to bed in a childless household. I wonder what time I’ll wake up first in the wee hours of the morning and have to force myself back to sleep, because it’s not time yet to get up…
But the difference is, Christmas morning sucks!! Santa didn’t come and there are no presents under the tree. And I love presents— I know Christmas isn’t supposed to be about gifts, but I disagree. Baby K is no more here today than he was yesterday and I have nothing to marvel at.
When oh when will Christmas morning come?
A toast to us
This weekend Ry and I had so many of those moments I want to remember forever. We toasted to having found each other and the windy path that got us to that point, to the love and friendship that we have, and to the hope and prayer that nothing will ever take one of us away from our duet.
We went night swimming, ate great meals, laughed hysterically, stole looks, gave kisses, and shared a yoga practice. Each moment felt like a mini-celebration of us, and everything we’ve been through together so far. There were hints of the worry that life may never be this way again (little man is due in less than 3 weeks!) but also glimmers of the desire that we could love each other more (is that even possible?). That we could pass that love on and share it, that our kid(s) could learn what love is from us and the knowledge that they’d be lucky to do so. I can’t say I had that growing up, but I yearned for it.
We have no idea what we have in store for us with adding to our family of two. And all of our dreams come with their own set of fears, so I hope no matter what comes our way, that we’ll hold tight to what we have and only allow it to grow, and continue through the years, to toast to us.
To my kid(s)
No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you’re the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside.
Good girlfriends
Ryan was gone for a week (last week) and I was just feeling pregnant and lonely. The weekdays aren’t usually so bad because I’m at the gym and work and time flies. Weekends without my partner in crime sorta suck. So I made some plans for Saturday.
The morning kicked off with a visit to the Farmer’s Market with my friend Myriah, her son Tristan, and her sister Hayley. I had been wanting to go to the downtown farmer’s market for a long time, so I was so happy to have someone to go with. It was HOT and unlike Phoenix, it was HUMID. We were soaked. As we meandered the the rows of vendors, and tried cheese, granola and watermelon, smelled flowers, basil and fresh pasta, I felt so ‘organic’. Organic to where I am, part of it all and supporting local farmers, and of course organic in the sense that everything I was buying wasn’t processed or sprayed or well-traveled.
After the market, I met my friend Bea, her husband, and her 6 month old Morgan for lunch. It’s a good time for me to be hanging out with babies…as I better get used to it. Our conversation involved a lot of questions from my side about what to expect, what is hard, what is the biggest change, etc.
A quick trip back to my pool to lay on a float and read a book in the sun for a bit before heading to see a movie with my friend Carlie. I have never really enjoyed going to the movies. Ryan LOVES it. He would go every weekend if I let him. And he LOVES popcorn. It always seems weird to be to eat a big thing of popcorn at a movie because I don’t really snack, and it can’t really take the place of a meal. Having moved to Phoenix, getting a couple of hours of relief in the A/C is something I can do, and if that means I have to watch a movie, fine. Carlie and I met and saw a movie Ry and I probably would have never seen (a rom com). It was fun! She is pregnant too, so it was funny to see her rubbing her belly as I was and feeling her baby kick as mine did too. She couldn’t get me to eat popcorn either but at least she got me to the movie! When the movie ended and we both admitted we had to pee SO badly we could barely walk to the bathroom, I thought about how lucky I am to have the friends I have. The ones who understand and commiserate, the ones who have the same questions and fears, hopes and wants as me. The ones who offer me a place to stay when my AC breaks and my husband is out of town (this happened a few days before my nice Sat!).
So yeah, I ALWAYS miss Ry when he is gone. And he really is my second half. But it is pretty rewarding to have some really good girlfriends.
Not drinking
I always thought that my biggest ‘fear’ of getting pregnant would be ‘how earth could I go 9 months (which is actual 10, they lie to you) without drinking?’ And more importantly, why would I want to? Turns out, it was a non-issue. I barely thought about it for a minute.
When I found out Baby K was Baby K, we had just a month away before two huge weddings in Mexico and Puerto Rico. A wedding without a drink? Come on, Mexico without a drink? Turns out, it was still an absolute blast, with days on the beach, and nights partying it up so much people thought I was drunk!
Two weekends ago, was my best friend’s bachelorette weekend. I had planned it and although I probably shouldn’t have been flying cross country, there was no way I was going to miss this bash. Like any other bachelorette weekend, there was (a LOT of) drinking. I put out the cheese/cracker/fruit plate and sipped my water while we munched on it. Was the absence of wine apparent? Maybe, but not really. We went to bars…all the bars I used to go to in Saratoga when I was in my early 20s. I bar hopped. I looked at girls that resembled me 7-8 years ago. Girls who probably were talking shit about the pregnant girl at the bar. I spent 2 totally fun nights with a group of girls I love, bonded with them, at least sang along to the dance party, and stayed up just as late as them both nights. And the best part is I didn’t wake up with a hangover either morning.
Perspective is such a crazy thing. I would have never thought that I’d be the girl without a drink. I actually never thought I’d be the first one to have a kid either. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever find anyone I wanted to marry, let alone have that same person want to marry me. It is unreal for me to look back at how I was, and how I thought, and then think now. I’m me, but I’m so very very different.
Today, I’m 29.
Today is my birthday— last year in my 20s. I don’t feel older and I’m still just as excited for my birthday as I was when 10, except it would’ve been nice if my mom sent me off to work with cupcakes for everyone like she used to do for school.
I guess though, there are some major differences from 28. My 28th birthday was a blast with our friends Jackie and Eric, in Santa Barbara drinking wine like water at a food and wine festival, happening upon a summer solstice rave, and partying until we couldn’t walk. Ry and I lived in Malibu at the time.
This year, Ryan and I own a home in Phoenix and our weekend was spent up in the quiet pine covered town of Flagstaff enjoying a quiet dinner outside in the town square, with a baby boy nudging me in my belly after I finally fed him a steak!
And I know that next year will be even crazier…because at our home in Phoenix will be our lil dude (and hopefully Ry and I are back in Santa Barbara for the weekend!).
I haven’t blogged at all— mostly because I feel like every expectant mother blogs…way…too…much. Somehow I didn’t think there was anything to say that anybody wants to hear. However, my friend M blogs about her mommy experience and I find myself checking tumblr every day just to see what’s new, and when she hasn’t posted, I wish she had….So for my birthday Ry got me an iPad, and I’m hoping that will keep me more connected and make it easier to update this thing. And maybe, just maybe, what I’ll have to say as a mom-to-be or as a mom will be different than everyone else…or there will be that one friend that wants to read along and looks forward to my updates.
This is America, where a white Catholic male Republican judge was murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean-American combat surgeon, all eulogized by our African American President.
All those quotes about people in your life
All of ‘those’ quotes mix and meld in my mind, but you know the ones I am referencing..they usually talk about fate, and people crossing your path, and the meaning or lack of meaning of those people in your life.
Lately, I’ve done a lot of thinking about the people whose paths have crossed mine or whose paths I’ve crossed and part of me thinks that each and every one of them was there for a reason, but the rational side of my brain tells me it was likely in most cases just a fluke. But some, the memories however brief or fleeting, don’t leave. And there are some people I wonder why I didn’t hold on tighter, try harder, make them stay. But therein lies the problem, in that when your grasp gets too tight people tend to pull away. And some just aren’t good at sticking with it, at making something work and they are going to slowly fade into the distance regardless of how hard one tries to keep them close.
No matter who leaves you though, it’s not their decision whether they stay with you in your heart or in your soul….and sometimes I wonder if those that do, ever ever think for a moment that I may just be thinking of them, or whether there’s a passing thought of me. I wish they knew that I did and that for whatever reason, they DID cross my path. And for whatever reason I needed them to.
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