Thanksgiving, it's been real

Remember when the Sunday blues would creep up on you at night? Right after The Simpsons (maybe that's just me) that nagging feeling would start to bubble up? Lately, it feels like the Sunday blues pop-up around lunch and I spend the rest of the day shaking them off.

This weekend I started to feel like the Sunday blues strolled in a little too early and reminded me that today it's back to life (back to reality! Come on - you sang it too!).

Maybe they arrived so early because the weekend was so sweet. It was everything it needed to be. By everything I mean, there were some serious high points and low points:

Thanksgiving Dinner - High Points:

• Ingrid shoving cranberry sauce into her mouth while simultaneously barking "More Berries!" 
• Watching Ingrid drift off to sleep on Grandpa's lap (without a pacifier!). 
• Watching her cousins play while shouting and pointing "Kids! Kids!" 
• Paula Dean's Green Bean Casserole (I'm not even considering searching for the recipe - as I'd like to remain ignorant to the calorie and fat content).  

Thanksgiving Dinner - Low Point: 

• Accidentally burning Ingrid's hand with mashed potatoes - as she was reaching for more "berries." 
• Eating three helpings of stuffing. 

Exercise - High Point: 

• Three yoga classes. 
• Holding that weird Side-Crow pose for 2 seconds. 
• Dancing to Christmas music with Ingrid while holding felt squares (think: homemade, rag-tag Ribbon Dancers). 

Exercise - Low Point: 

• Pausing half-way through my Thanksgiving Day run to talk to my mom (that's an exercise low point and a good daughter high point).
• Not being able to run without my iPhone holding arm band. Pathetic. 

Shopping - High Point: 

• Not standing in any crazy lines at 1 in the morning. 
• Online shopping. 
• An unexpected trip to Penzey Spices. Double-Strength Vanilla for the price of Single-Strength? Merry Christmas to me! 

Shopping - Low Point: 

• Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with every hipster within a 10 mile radius of Bay View at Art vs. Craft.
• The cash registers crashing at JoAnn Fabrics. We were dangerously close to a riot - complete with women armed with scrapbooking materials. 

Relaxing - High Points: 

• Watching 15 minutes of Brave with Ingrid. 
• Enjoying a gingerbread latte while Harper the dog received a bath, a nail trimming and blueberry facial (seriously). 
• Finishing the book, Gone Girl. 
• Boardwalk Empire, second to last episode. 

Attempts at Relaxing - Low Points: 

• Watching 15 minutes of Finding Nemo with Ingrid. After her third outburst of "Oh No! Memo! Meeemmmoooooooo!" as Nemo and Marlin attempted to dodge sharks and humans. Clearly, not an appropriate movie for a 19-month-old. 
• Holding Harper while she got her nails clipped. She was so squirmy and only managed to get three nails clipped before she was clipped too far and some poor dog washer hit the quick (and there was a lot of blood). 
• Boardwalk Empire, only one more episode left! 

Seriously though, this weekend was exactly what it needed to be. Plenty of time with family, friends and spending far too many hours in elastic waist pants. Drank too much coffee, reconnected to the mat, snuggled with Ingrid and stayed up late laughing with Dan. Organized things that needed organizing, treated myself to a pair of new boots and had a Bloody Mary at 8 pm for the hell of it.

Thanksgiving, I'm sad to see you go, it's been real! 

Thanksgiving

Out of the hundreds of photos of Ingrid, this recent snapshot consistently makes me laugh. 

To me, it looks like an out-take from an L.L. Bean catalog.

Dan thinks she looks like a mini-Wolverine who should have claws coming out of her knuckles. 

I'm filled with thanks and gratitude today.

Thankful to spend time with my family and especially
to spend time with this little outdoorsy, mini-Wolverine. 

Thankful to eat, laugh and lounge together.

Wishing you and your family a happy Thanksgiving!

Thankful Tree

Last November, I shared what I was thankful for with a good old-fashioned A to Z list. I had a great time compiling, writing and sharing this comprehensive list.

This year, I wanted to start a family tradition around the idea of giving thanks, but didn't want the effort to be complicated or feel forced. I stumbled upon the idea of a homemade Thankful Tree - to take a few moments to write down what we are thankful for that day on a little card and hang it on a tree. Simple, painless and fast.

After finding these cute, free printable tags, the rest was easy.

photo via 

We gathered branches during our weekly Sunday morning and during an episode of Fashion Police, I assembled our Thankful Tree with minimal effort and a little twine:

Before

Free printable tags

After 

Although Ingrid will express thanks when you give her a chunk of cheese, she doesn't understand the true meaning of gratitude but, I know she'll love gazing at this new little addition to the living room (and will want to play with the tags). I'm hopeful this will morph into an annual family tradition where we can all participate.

Dan humored me and filled out a tag for Cell Phone Service, My Friends and Breakfast. I shared my thanks for Harper, Yoga, Ingrid's Laugh and of course, to all Veterans everywhere for their service and sacrifice - including Dan, my husband.

Little Letters {link up}

Today I'm linking up with one of my favorite bloggers, Emily over at Life, etc. She's got a knack for creating serious sweet treats in the kitchen - and her hair tutorials are Pinterest-worthy.


Emily's Little Letters kind of remind me of Jimmy Fallon's Thank You Letters. Inspired by Emily and (not at all funny like) Jimmy, here's what I'm thanking (or dearing?) this week:


Dear fall, thank you, favorite season, for the crisp air, the football Sundays, scarves, long sleeves, boots, for apples and pumpkins and lovely pumpkin spice lattes. Generic list and all - I love fall!

Dear barking dogs next door, please stop waking up little Ingrid at 5:30 in the morning. She needs her little sleep.

Dear Weeds (the show), I know I'm about five years late to hop on the Weeds bandwagon but, I'm here now and so in love.

Dear library, thank you for letting members check out 100 books, books on CD or videos at a time. It's new board-book bonanza over here.

Dear running schedule, I'm trying, seriously!

Dear JCrew september catalog, I'll take one of each, thanks.   

Dear AT&T Uverse, I'll admit it - my bank account would be cool without cable - but these past two months have been tolerable without it. Thank you for Bravo, Food Network - and my favorite guilty pleasure - Fashion Police.

Dear life, tonight while I was cooking in the kitchen and Dan and Ingrid were dancing to Paul Simon, I thought you were pretty great.

the whole story.

Claire Bidwell Smith's article The Good, the Bad and the Filtered: Truth About My Postpartum Life truly resonated with me because the content shared online is such a small, pretty fraction of the whole, unfiltered picture.

Of course, by nature, that's the way it has to be, but I often feel like a fraud sharing pictures of Ingrid dancing in the grass, blowing bubbles or eating ice cream. These sweet moments are wonderful and although they occur daily, they are bookended by periods of stress and require much effort.

An effort that sounds silly once put into words - because packing a diaper bag, working around naptime, and lugging a toddler, stroller, snacks and perhaps a dog out of the house, doesn't sound taxing. But it is. And it's boring.

Who wants to see a sweaty mom juggling a squirmy toddler?

No, we'd all rather see Ingrid looking at a pig with skepticism:

But seriously, that's just the tip of the iceberg as the stresses of everyday life mount. Discussions about schedules, baby sitters, finances and house hunting make me entertain the idea of life as a hermit.

When trying to remember the last time I went to a concert or on vacation, I'm reminded that those things that I loved so dearly, are on the back-burner indefinitely.

I stay up too late and eat too many carbs. I feel burnt out and wound up.

Capturing and sharing pictures of Ingrid's toddler-hood reminds me that we're figuring it out and enjoying the journey together. 

Here, Ingrid and I are at Chill on the Hill, listening to live music in the park and looking at the moon:

And when I look at this picture, it makes me feel good. It doesn't matter how tired I was, how frustrated Ingrid got when we ran out of cheese or what ragtag local band was playing. At this moment, Ingrid saw the moon, squealed with delight and marched around with excitement.

So, please don't take this as a complaint as it is not. Not even for a hot-venting-second. I'm forever thankful for our simple life - for supportive family, friends and good health. I just wanted you to know what you already knew - life isn't perfect and will never even resemble perfect - and to have the whole story.

Trouble

Today, I spent the day in Chicago for work. It was a fun day of visits and learning, but a long taxing calorie-filled day.

As the tracks rumble beneath my feet, I’m dreaming about returning to Chicago for a fun family visit. Trips to fun restaurants, museums and shops with Ingrid in tow.

In reality this would involve an insane amount of planning, packing and as the questions about car seats start to pop into my head (“Could we take the train and ideally not pack the car seat? Do we need one in a cab? Yes. Could we just…walk or take the L”) – I can almost see Dan and I exchanging looks that say: Is This More Trouble Than It’s Worth?

Often times the answer is No. For example yesterday, we were literally a mile from the mall and realized that we forgot the stroller. In a decision fueled by pure (unnecessary) panic, we decided to go home, grab the stroller and head back to the mall to get Dan a new pair of shoes. We were caught off guard, but our decision to get the stroller was worth it.

The point? I have finally come to grips with the fact that as she gets older and more mobile, traveling with Ingrid presents new challenges that sometimes beg the question – Is This More Trouble Than It’s Worth?

It’s nice to reflect and remember the days when I could just simply toss Ingrid in an infant car seat and carry on about my day shopping and lunching with friends.

But isn't the past always a bit sparklier in our memories?

Because, ten months ago I was painfully calculating her last feeding, her last nap and taking constant diaper bag inventory. I was nursing, recovering from major surgery and adjusting to life with a baby. I was constantly on edge as to what would happen next.

But here’s what I remember. Leisurely lunches with girlfriends, solo shopping trips (during off-peak hours!) and long walks with Harper with a perfectly silent sleeping baby (see, sparklier in memory!).

Yes, Ingrid grows and changes. And so do my priorities. I have surrendered to the fact that we have a baby and some things we did pre-baby just don't make that much sense anymore. Surrendered and lovingly accepted. When Ingrid was first born, we pretty much did everything we did before I got pregnant - we just had a baby. As she's grown and we've settled into life with her. Friday nights with a movie and pizza are welcomed. I just want to chill out and enjoy our family.

Slowing down and focusing on what matters takes effort but it's totally worth the trouble.

Morning Guilt {Not the Walk-of-Shame Kind}

As I left daycare this morning, I felt the usual guilty-twinge of guilt, mixed with a mild punch-to-the-gut ache.  

Granted, Ingrid only goes to daycare two days a week, but drop-offs are still a real drag. 

After standing in the doorway for an uncomfortably long period of time, waving to Ingrid like a maniac - she grinned, and waved back. Then she grabbed a faux-food pretzel and shoved it in her mouth (mmm, plastic). Then, she gave me a head-tilt as if to say "Mom, seriously. I'm fine." 

Driving to work, my mind started to drift to the upcoming workday tasks. 

Then, it hit me. I didn't feel that bad - or even that guilty - about leaving my 10-month-old with three college girls. Why not? 

Then I started to feel guilty about not feeling guilty. 

Our daycare center is amazing. Ingrid loves it. Ingrid is the class favorite (I assume). The teacher-to-child ratio is unheard of. It's minutes from my work and blocks away from Dan's school. And, we all get to gaze out onto Lake Michigan during our commutes (oh-so-much better than I-94). 

Then again, I learn about her day on a prescriptive worksheet (ATE ALL OF PEAS AT 12:10 PM. BM AT 9:40 AM). I don't have a contact, control, or even a good idea as to her general well-being from 8:15-5:30 Monday through Friday. And she's the most important person in my life. 

But then, when husband sent this text message today: 

Hooray for chains! 

The rest of the day seemed to go a little bit easier. 

Whether she's at daycare or at home with Dan or I - she's happy. 

Dan's in school, running his own business and watching Ingrid. 

Like it or not, I'm working. 

Guilty as charged, I like work. 

Some mornings it feels great to leave the house and be mentally challenged. 

Some mornings, I wish I could run back into the Caterpillar room (after putting on the blue protective booties, unlocking the never-ending series of swinging doors and washing my hands). Then, I would scoop Ingrid up, and we would snuggle and play all day. Without any fussiness or nap-time whining. Or, with a ton of fussiness and whining. Ingrid wins over email any day. 

The daycare saga is a see-saw of conflicting emotions and rationals. Doing what's best, against doing what needs to be done. Reality of the situation (see) verses what I want (saw). Thrilled about work while missing Ingrid. 

I'm forever thankful that I was able to spend five wonderful months at home with Ingrid, from day one to week 18. 

It's been wonderful to watch Dan become an amazing stay-at-home, work-at-home, student, (and above all) dad. 

I could go on and on about the wonderfulness that is Ingrid's daycare. 

But sometimes, I just want to override my guilty feelings about the decision to work full-time and be with Ingrid.  

Z is for Zache.

Zache is my maiden name. Isn't the word "maiden" awful? Try to say it with a smiling face. Ok, try to say it without twisting your face into a weird ugly mess. You can't do it, can you? No, because it's a weird word. Like "Bunsen burner." I prefer "my original last name."

Moving on.

Growing up I was the classic older sister. Most of the time I was mean and made them do stuff for me - like "just find the remote." Somehow these people actually still like me - or they've just grown to like me - as I have them.

Last Saturday, we spent the morning together - had breakfast, went to Art vs. Craft and then decided to watch painfully lame girly movies all day. Later that day, I felt like a truck had rolled over my face - a wonderful precursor to getting sick. I couldn't move off of the couch and forced my sister to make her own dinner (guess some things never change). She wasn't phased and most likely thought this was a normal Saturday night at the Atkinson residence.

I turned the corner from "getting sick" to "I'm siiiccckkkk" - I was spouting off things that I thought might make me feel better. Every five minutes one of these little "nuggets of wisdom" were shared with whoever was still tolerating my overly-dramatic sick self: "I need warmer jammies! That pizza smells bad. Can someone rub my back? Do we have Advil. I need to shower! Where's Harper? That JC Penny commercial is too red!"

What a wonderful night for my sister, who visits about once a year.

Well, she was a trooper and we ended up sharing a few stories and laughing a bit the next morning. I'm really thankful this month for so many things - but finally, I'll wrap it up with being thankful for my wonderful Zache sisters.

Y is for Yoga.

Tonight after Ingrid went to sleep, I just felt jittery. After deciding that wine wasn't the answer, I figured a quick, 40 minute yoga DVD was what I needed.

I always feel weird doing yoga in my living room. During Downward Facing Dog, I always notice dust bunnies. Kitty inevitably creeps over to the mat. It's all very zen-like.

During the last 10 minutes, Ingrid woke up. Thankfully, she was in a cheery, bubbly mood. I decided, what the heck, let's finish this "practice" as I sat her down next to the mat and finished the last few poses. It was hilarious you guys. It meaning yoga poses. The stretching. The pink mat. The hands in the air.

It wasn't wine or yoga, I think after a mundane Monday, I needed that big cheeked little girl to literally laugh in my face while doing yoga poses half-ass in the middle of my dusty floor. That, and a large glass of wine.

W is for Writing.

Confession - I skipped X. X is a crazy letter. Xylophone is a "normal" X-word. Just look at it again, Xylophone. Really?

Another confession - I enjoyed writing more when my life was crazy.

Yes, it's true. Ever since I got my job, this wonderful project has suffered. True, I had much more time on my hands during my pregnancy/unemployment stint - but I also had much more to write, blog - ok, bitch about. I had pregnancy pains, new baby fears and job loss rants to rant about.

Now, I have a baby. And a job. And a really supportive husband.

And every now and I again, I'll draft a "Rant Post" and then just delete it because I just don't have the rage to wrap it up. I think the wounds of unemployment were deeper than I understood during those painful months and I feel guilty complaining about these insignificant things - like the hardships of going to the grocery store with a seven-month-old.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not twirling around my living room with glee every moment of the day - but by and large, I'm happy. My blog started as a way to document my pregnancy then, proved to be therapeutic during my unemployment and serves as a great way to document everyday and memorable moments with Ingrid. And rather than write about what other "Mom Bloggers" are writing about or come up with dumb things to bitch about - I guess I'll be honest and say (or, write!) that I'm navigating the uncharted waters of being a "new" everything. New Wife. New Employee and best "role" of them all (on some days...) New Mom.

V is for Veterans

Keeping it short and sweet tonight and throwing my thanks out to the Veterans. This year I felt like bagels on Veterans day - so I brought in a dozen and half of them for my fellow coworkers. I felt like a huge nerd when I had to correct my boss that they weren't for my birthday - but for Veterans Day - which lead to the conversation about my husband's service in the Army. It's not something I really like to talk about - I don't not like to talk about it - but it's just one of those topics that always almost leads to an unpleasant end to the conversation.


"Oh yeah, he was in Iraq twice and Afghanistan once. Oh, where is your son stationed?" 

And so on.

There's no good "lets wrap this up" moment and due to the current state of everything - there is no clean break. You just kind of walk away feeling yucky and sort of sad. Kind of like this post.

Again, in wanting to keep this short and sweet - I'm sure we all can agree that we're thankful for Veterans every month of the year.


Send a care package, help a spouse, or just send a letter of thanks to someone who served this holiday season.

U is for Urban.

Yesterday, my mother-in-law and I hit up some stores later in the morning. We were expecting the Black Friday worst, but we walked away with fantastic deals and surprisingly the stores weren't that busy. Everyone was in a chipper-"excuse me! oh that's no problem!"-mood. It was a great way to end an awesome Thanksgiving weekend.

Today, my sisters are coming over to spend the day with Ingrid and I. I'm assuming that my weak attempts to convince them to see Breaking Dawn were not successful. So, that means we'll be spending the day bumming around the house and Bay View and hopefully, hitting up Art vs. Craft. 


Excited to spend the day with my sisters and Ingrid!

Thanksgiving.

We have so much to be thankful for this year. Today we're spending time with Dan's family, watching the Packer game and enjoying a big ol' meal. This year I'm thankful for Ingrid, Dan, my job, our supportive family and friends. I know, those are pretty boring and typical "thankful things" - but honestly, today is pretty great.

S is for Sticking Together.

Recently, several moms posted this article on the Facebook.

As I read the columnist's "words of wisdom" - I was reminded of a fellow blogger's recent post about moms needing to stick together. Or for that matter, women needing to stick together. 

I understand that the author was making a point and answering the reader's question but, this article was insulting to work-outside-of-the-home moms, and women - no - people without kids. The theme I'm a Mom and I'm Busy is an all too common theme found in parenting resources and I'm over it. It's an unhelpful theme. Go ahead and share or vent - but isn't the I'm Busier Than You Game a little pointless?

Yes, with one seven-month-old, it does take me "45 minutes to do what takes others 15." But guess what - it might take 60 minutes for someone with physical limitations.

Point is - you think you're busy - but someone's got you beat.

As moms, we're not extra busy or extra special - we're just moms. Working outside of the home doesn't make me any less - or more - busy than someone staying/working at home. 

Many points of this article made complete sense and were spot on - parenthood does require your constant everything. It requires every ounce of you as a person. Of course, priorities change once you have kids. Ingrid has enriched my life in ways I never imagined - yet I have interests beyond Ingrid. If she ever decides to have kids, I hope she continues to explore her passions and is a well-rounded, interesting person. And in my book, interesting people connect and talk to other interesting people from time to time. 

Instead of participating in the Busy Contest, why don't we just acknowledge that we all have shit to do, in the same 24 hours as everyone else. Lets leave the two-seater shopping carts for the moms with two kids, just smile and nod at the pregnant lady in Target (I need to remember this one...) and continue to care, support, communicate and spend some quality face time with our loved ones with - or without kids.   

R is for Running.

3pm energy slump got you down? Some say you should reach for a handful of almonds and a water. I say that plain almonds are gross and I'd rather throw them in your face! And I'm over 19, so having caffeine after 11am on a weekday = crazy in my world - so what to do, what to do....

Oreos? 

No. Too guily.  

Tea? 

Boring!  

Today after work I was so tired I was literally counting the hours until I could go to bed. Literally, not figuratively. 

So I actually went to the gym and I actually ran and I actually, literally, feel awesome right now. 

The house is clean, laundry is in progress and we'll all be enjoying a nice little dinner of Apple, Goat Cheese and Pecan Pizza in moments. 

If running means I'll lose this baby weight (I mean honestly, aren't you sick of hearing about it?) AND have excess energy - I MIGHT think about doing this consistently. 

The only downfall? My iPod is full of husband's whiny music. 

Share people share! What are your favorite amazing, workout songs? Nothing with a robot voice please!

Q is for Quiet.

This weekend, I spent sometime thinking of ways to decorate the apartment, ordered our holiday cards, pinned some meal ideas and  purchased some gifts for the fam. I'm easing into the holiday spirit - one step at a time.

On my way home from running errands with Ingrid, I was flipping through the stations and decided that it was time to just chill out. I continued this once we got home. Once Ingrid went down, I just sat on my couch for a solid 15 minutes and enjoyed the quiet time. I was really enjoying this until I thought to myself....

Damn it.

Another one of those parenthood-cliches-proven-correct - sometimes you just want some peace and quiet. Not while folding the laundry or even reading - or even while taking a shower. You just want to tune out and be quiet. Ahhhh, bliss. 

P is for Packers.

Husband was supposed to be working all day today - but I was pleasantly surprised when he arrived home at 2:30 this morning. We all slept-in until 9 and declared today a lazy day. I'm convinced this involves snuggling with Ingrid, eating some sort-of baked cheese, a mid-day vodka tonic and a Packer game. Hip hip for Sundays!

O is for Optimistic

O is for Optimism.

Last year, on December 2 I learned that my company would be moving all operations to Birmingham, Alabama. I was pregnant. I was really scared. And hey, the holidays were right around the corner - so basically, I was a hot mess.

All is well today - I found a job when Ingrid was 18 weeks old. December 2, 2010 seems like a million years ago.

As I was tidying up our home office last night, I found an old file folder, creatively named JOB. I went through the documents that made the cut - resumes, cover letters, resume tip articles, job interview articles and networking articles - I mentally noted to stop printing so many random articles. Then, I thought about that trying time and what "stuff" I took from my old job to get my new job. No, not the colorful office supplies (although I do miss those fun binder clips...) - the "stuff" I learned at my old job was critical to scoring my new gig.

I won't go into the details of my old role - but basically, I supported a sales force of outgoing, friendly and above all, optimistic women. As time went on, this positive-thinking-optimistic-attitude rubbed off on me. Through observation and personal success - I came to learn that being optimistic is that special magic glue that makes a good idea stick. With a healthy dose of skepticism and an optimistic outlook - you figure out that everything has a way of figuring itself out. I know, it all sounds so "quotey" so "eye-rolly" but, I kid you not - I finally lost weight when I became optimistic about losing weight.

I'm not advocating for bubbly, annoying levels of positive thinking. But in order to land this job - I made sure that I didn't come across as needy (I desperately needed this job), fake (bubbly, annoying levels of positive thinking) or a pill to work with (will not complain).

Sometimes being optimistic isn't really an option - like, when you need to vent - or better said - bitch.

Sometimes you need to bitch to figure out what's really grinding your gears. Sometimes you need to bitch to bitch. And sometimes, you bitch to drag yourself and others down.

The last reason is the worst. And I've been doing too much of it lately. Bitching about money and then buying things. Bitching about my intake of nonsense - then drinking coffee all day. Bitching about my baby weight (hate that term) - then proceed to eat treats.

In order to keep with the season of merry and cheer - I'm attempting to keep the bitching to a minimum and keep the levels of optimism at a (reasonably) appropriate level.

N is for Nephew.

This week, my sister-in-law gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Everyone is happy, healthy and now, at home.

It was amazing to hold someone so little, innocent and fresh.

I'm beyond thrilled for their little family - and to watch Ingrid grow up with her little cousins.

Nice to meet you cousin. 

So tiny!

M is for Motivation and Milwaukee.

Just put on your shoes and walk out the door.

The best running advice I've ever read.

No expectations, no goal setting, no run-here-to-there-and-back. It's simple, it's doable. Wake up with Harper, put on my shoes and walk out the door. Sometimes this leads to a nice run (for my low standards and endurance level) or a walk around Humboldt Park.

The stack of too-tight jeans and pre-baby shirts are all the motivation I need.

During these runs I have such a strong appreciation for my family, my career, my everything. Appreciation that my sub-par knees allow me to run, appreciation for the time, appreciation for our wonderful park. When I run to the lakefront, appreciation for Milwaukee. It may not be the healthiest, most cultured or the cleanest - but it's so fun and a lot of people I like live here. I make no apologies, I love Milwaukee.