she's just sayin'

There are many things I felt certain I’d never become. We all have those, don’t we? You know, where you tell your cousin, “If I EVER show up to Christmas dinner in a cat-festooned holiday sweater, please excommunicate me from the family.” We all have our standards and our ideas of who we are, who we will be, and what we swear we’ll never become. Lately, I’ve been dismayed to discover that I have, in fact, taken on many of the personas I so fiercely declared I never would. Let’s list them, shall we? I never thought I’d be the kind of person who:

Goes to Starbucks twice in one day.

Says, “Did you make a poopy?”

Has a couple containers of Wet Ones on hand

Adds an annoying baby-voiced ‘ies’ to every. single. word. See: lunchies, jammies, munchies, toesies, sleepies

Shops more than two grocery stores in one week.

Says, “I need my wine.” On second thought, who am I kidding? I think I always knew I’d end up the kind of person who says that.

Buys organic and feels smugly confident that I’m doing ‘what’s best for my family’.

Gets excited when the weekly circulars come out, and refers to them as ‘circulars’ with a straight face.

What about you? What kind of person have you been embarrassed/disappointed/humbled to discover you’ve become?

The Internet is a great place to go if you’re looking for some motivation. Sundry’s constantly pushing her limits and documenting her goals and then going out and grabbing those goals by the balls and showing them who’s boss. She Like’s Purple’s got a list right on her site, and she’s systematically crossing things off as she goes. That’s accountability right there. It’s inspiring, it really is. It’s also humbling.

I read about the things people are doing after setting their minds to something and I wonder, what do I want to do? For years I had an endless string of goals I set for myself, and I’m proud to say I achieved just about every one of them. Move to New York City: crammed myself into a tiny Manhattan apartment nearly seven years ago and haven’t left the metro area since. Get a job in media: landed an entry-level gig at an ad agency a few months after graduating college. Run the New York City marathon: got the medal to prove it. Work at a magazine: rose up a few ranks at one of the world’s foremost business magazines.

My most recent goal, although that doesn’t seem like quite the right word for it, was to become a mom. If you’ve read any of this blog, you know I achieved that one. And of course, my tandem goal to go along with that was to be a GREAT mom. I don’t know that I can judge my progress on that one—I’ll probably always give myself a little less credit than I deserve. After three months though, I feel confident saying I think I’m doing a pretty good job. Check back in eighteen years when my ‘masterpiece’ is complete.

So now, what’s next? Here’s where I’m drawing a blank. I don’t have any Big Dreams right now, and I think what bothers me most about this is not so much that I don’t have anything I really want to accomplish at the moment but more that I feel badly that I don’t. Have I become complacent? Boring? (don’t answer that one!)

Maybe it’s just a phase. Maybe we should be given a break on life goals during the first year of our firstborn’s life so that we can instead focus on pressing matters like making sure the baby is still breathing each night and fretting over whether or not he’s reaching each developmental milestone and worrying that he’s too high or too low in those vaunted percentiles. Maybe as a child learns he is independent from you, you too begin to remember that you are independent from him. That you can have dreams all of your own again–dreams that aren’t wrapped up in him. Dreams that he can one day understand, acknowledge, and—eventually—congratulate you for achieving.

Copied from Sundry…

1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?

Got pregnant, bought a house, rode a zipline in Costa Rica, wore a giant adult-sized animal hide diaper (it was mandatory!) while riding down a quarter mile long water slide, took a surfing lesson, biked solo over the Golden Gate Bridge

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don’t think I made any resolutions; it has always felt like a trite practice to me. But in the spirit of documentation, my resolution for 2010 will be to begin my journey of being a great mom.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, my best friend Kate, one of those people you feel so wonderfully lucky to know and be close to.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Sadly, yes. Kate’s mom Marti. If ever there was a true saint on earth, it was her.

5. What countries did you visit?

Costa Rica (where the ziplining, water sliding and surfing took place)

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you didn’t have in 2009?

A baby boy!  He is due (quite literally) any day now.

7. What dates from 2009 will be etched upon your memory, and why?

April 27, the day I found out I was pregnant, July 14, the day Kate’s son was born, July 28, the day Kate’s mom passed away, and December 15, the day Mike and I closed on our house.

8. What was your biggest achievement of this year?

Getting pregnant. It turns out the clichéd phrase ‘miracle of life’ really is true. There is simply no way to fathom the idea that you can create another life, particularly when you’ve created that life with someone you love more than life itself.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I am by no means faultless, but thankfully I don’t think I suffered any major failures this year.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Does morning sickness count?

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Our house! And these boots are a close second.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My husband’s.  Impending fatherhood seems to really suit him. He’s been supportive when needed, calm when I know it killed him to do so, and take charge when I didn’t have the energy.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Thankfully, no one that I can recall.

14. Where did most of your money go?

To the down payment on our house. But I’d say that’s money well spent.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Having a baby! And owning a boat. Summer weekends were amazingly peaceful and relaxing thanks to that old salty dog.

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?

Lady Gaga’s entire discography.  Isn’t she just on every radio station’s permanent repeat?

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

a) Happier and more hopeful.

b) Much fatter (but I blame the baby)

c) Much, much poorer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Cooked real dinners and kept up with this blog.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worked late

20. How did you spend Christmas?

With Mike’s family, for the most part. But most of Christmas Day was just the two of us, and that was pretty sweet.

21. Did you fall in love with 2009?

Just more in love.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

I developed an unhealthy addiction to House Hunters, Property Virgins, and all other HGTV shows.  But my favorite real show was (and is) Modern Family.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No, and now this feels like a MySpace quiz.

24. What was the best book you read?

This is tough because as much as I love books, as soon as I finish one, even one I really love, I tend to promptly forget it. Right now I’m really enjoying The Piano Teacher.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Along with the rest of the world, I discovered Kings of Leon

26. What did you want and get?

A house (probably the sixth time now I’ve referenced this damn house)

27. What did you want and not get?

A baby…well, at least not yet.  I wanted him to come in 2009, but now it’s looking like it’ll be 2010. And the sale of our apartment. Would have made life a leeeetle less stressful!

28. What was your favorite film of 2009?

I saw all of about four movies this year, so I’m no Roger Ebert, but I truly enjoyed The Hangover. I know, I’m so low culture.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I think I went out to dinner?  I honestly can’t recall much about the day.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

A wider selection of maternity clothes. Are you listening, fashion designers??

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of 2009?

GapMaternity

32. What kept you sane?

Having a baby inside me – instant perspective

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

Healthcare, and the sad realization that we’ll never get it right, and should probably stop pretending that there’s an outside chance we will.

34. Who did you miss?

My old athlete self. I hope to see her again in 2010.

35. Who was the best new person you met?

The editors at my workplace. So many brilliant minds!

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.

Less a learning, and more a reinforcement, but: you never know how much time you have, and the only things that really matter are the people you surround yourself with.

37. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

“I feel it all, I feel it all”  — Feist

On a fast-moving freeway, you’re moving even faster in the left lane. Just a few car lengths ahead of you, a vehicle jolts and swerves suddenly into the middle lane. Before you have a moment to wonder why, you see exactly. Another car, barely moving, blindly drifts from the rest-stop gas station into the fast lane. You’re traveling 65, maybe 70. He’s traveling 25, maybe 30. There’s no time to brake. You jolt, swerve suddenly into the middle lane. You don’t have time to check if there is another car in the middle lane; you only have time to avoid the danger immediately in front of you.

It’s fifty-fifty. Your life could be over. Or it could continue moving along at 65, maybe 70. This day you were lucky. Or was it blessed? Or was it–no more no less–just the way it all was meant to be?

You’re walking down the sidewalk, two little boys with you. One is three, maybe four. The other is 18 months, maybe 24. The oldest takes off like a flash, full of the unrestrained glee that only children possess. He’s headed down the block as fast as his little legs can take him. You let him run at first—children need to explore, test their freedom. A few moments go by. You realize he’s getting closer and closer to the city’s busiest intersection, a ten lane highway known as the Boulevard of Death. His little legs aren’t pumping any slower; if anything, faster. You take off at a dead sprint, calling out his name, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. He stops suddenly, distracted by a dog on a leash nearby. Meanwhile, a city bus goes barreling through the intersection.

It was fifty-fifty. He could have ended up under the bus. This day, you were lucky. He was lucky. Or did he just have so much life left to live?

The first incident happened to me this weekend. The second I witnessed, although my imagination concocted the ending. Thankfully, the reality turned out to be far more harmless. But both events got me thinking about the nature of moments. So many weeks and months go by. We see people we haven’t seen in so long, they ask what’s new. We tell them not much. A cursory scroll through our brains reveals only a few changes worth noting. But millions of moments occurred in between. Millions of moments where life could have gone this way or that. Could have ended, could have been forever altered. We take these moments for granted because more often than not we’re granted the rosier side of fifty-fifty. That’s the way it should be. But those moments…