Being 'Busy'

Last night I did all the wrong things before bedtime: scrutinized every task left unfinished, scanned Pinterest on my iPhone, watched mindless TV onDemand and neglected to wash my face. Aiden was asleep, Chris was asleep, the dog was asleep and I wanted to join them. The desire to cop some z's was not enough, though, as I found myself rummaging the pantry, fridge, freezer for a post-midnight snack only moments later.

Flax seed oatmeal, organic apples, yogurt cheese, frozen organic wheatgrass juice … Yes, Leslie, you are a health nut but would it kill you to tuck some junk food away?!

Unsatisfied and irritated, I shut off the kitchen light and headed back up the stairs; careful not to evoke any creaks with my ascent. Grasping the lever ever-so-softly, I gently eased open the door and entered the guest-bedroom-turned-office. I stared at my blank computer screen for a few seconds, debating whether to click the mouse and awaken the monitor. Against my better judgement, I clicked.

Now what?

I knew I was in no shape to write and I couldn't muster up the energy to return the massive amount of emails in my inbox. Job searching was O-U-T of the question.  Something was nagging at me and I couldn't put my finger on it. I rewound the day's events in my head; all-in-all it was a good one in which I focused entirely on Aiden. I made the conscious decision to let everything else wait.

Was I going through withdraws? Is my body programmed to always be in overdrive?

I read a NY Times article over the summer, which highlighted “The 'Busy'Trap.” At first, the Opinionator made me very angry. Touting that busyness is self-imposed and avoidable. “The present hysteria [busyness] is not a necessary or inevitable condition of life; it’s something we’ve chosen, if only by our acquiescence to it.”

Back then, I was amidst a move, new job, childcare search, doctor appointments left and right for my little man and even an upcoming medical check for him in Boston. I felt like busyness was pumping through my veins and this article made me mad … really, really mad.. As if it was sooooo easy to stop the madness; trust me - if I could've, I would've.  Looking back, though, I realize the author had actually struck a vein; causing the busyness I felt inside, to swell. I had reached my whits end and my reading of “The 'Busy' Trap just didn't jive with my current set of circumstances … or so I thought.

Last night, I found myself thinking again about the article. I have been out of work now for roughly a month and somehow my calendar is already busting at the seams: playdates, early-development classes, lunch meet-ups, and the like. Of course, the calendar doesn't include my self-imposed to-do list which is full of house cleaning, job searching, dinner-making, writing. I know guilt is driving me – but last night I found myself just wishing things to be simple; apparently my subconscious was yelling out the very same thing.

* * *

This afternoon Chris asked for me to pickup his dry cleaning, but mentioned that I should check our bank account first. Oh guilt, rearing it's ugly head once again. I said that I haven't been eating out or shopping for anything but groceries. “We need to pay down our credit card and start saving again.” I know that he is right and that we need to get things back on track … rather, I need to …

Guilt, guilt go away ...

Preceding Aiden's diagnosis, I had been working in medical marketing and sales. I was driven – a border-line workaholic. In May 2010, our lives changed forever. I never second-guessed my decision, no one did, to leave the workplace and care for Aiden full-time; he needed me and, boy, did I need him. We moved in with my folks, rented out our home and made it work.

Despite the circumstances, I do feel fortunate to have been able to spend so much time with my little man. Returning to work will give me the ability to once again contribute to retirement, help build Aiden's college saving plan, and make sure we are not one emergency away from financial collapse. We wear rose-colored glasses no more. The problem is that my struggle exists in the trade-off.

I don't know what the future may bring for any of us, which is what makes this trade-off especially excruciating given all we have been through. I am hopeful that only good things are to come, but I am also realistic and I know that life is not perfect. I am tired of existing in limbo and I so terribly want to be with my son, my family and write. Currently, though, even being home I don't feel like I am truly being with him.

I can't win.

I didn't want to write this entry; it is not well-planned and makes me feel utterly vulnerable. I refuse to be silent, though. I made a decision to always write out loud so I do not plant to fill my blog with untruths or fictitious renderings of my life. Silence, too, is telling, which is likely why it has taken me a bit to write a post such as this one.

This is me exposed and this is my life right now.

Many people have asked what my plans are as “Leslie Lipscomb AspiringAuthor.” I am still figuring it all out, but I know – in my heart of hearts – I will write a book. Even if I print it out at Kinko's and it sits in my bedside table, it will be my gift to myself … and to Aiden. For now, my blog serves as a brainstorming bubble. I use it as a journal-of-sorts, but it is also helping me organize my thoughts and ideas.

* * *

Earlier today, when I started writing, I asked Aiden what "being busy" meant.  He looked at me blankly, opened his palms to the ceiling, shrugged his shoulders and said "I dunno."  That's when I got it.  Busyness is self-imposed; a grown-up perverseness to work, work, work.  

Well, it appears I have been caught in The 'Busy' Trap, even while life afforded me lots of perspective and a little break from the traditional workplace. I need to have faith moving forward that things will turn out okay and start letting go of things I cannot change. As it turns out author, Tom Kreider, had it right all along; “Life is too short to be busy.”

Below are some pictures from this past Sunday and our impromptu visit to the Heritage Farm Museum.  Here's to many more days full of unplanned fun!

Good ole fashioned fun

This is what life is about 

A "Super" Time

I could feel my jaw tensing as I slowly ground my teeth together.  Bad habit, I know, but breaking said proclivity was no easy feat.  I was on edge - irritation slyly creeping through my body as if to conceal a sinister takeover plan.  All too quickly, I surrendered and let myself fall into the abyss of a “bad” mood.

Crunch, grrrrrind, grrrrrind, crunch… My dentist would not be happy.

I speak of perspective and celebrating the “right now,” but I am human and just as vulnerable to kicking off the covers, placing my feet on the floor and stepping forth from the dreaded wrong side. Fortunately or not – depending on how you look at it – I recognize the predilections of a bad day almost as soon as they begin to appear.  This heightened sense of awareness, though, only seems to increase my irritability.

Come on, Leslie! Life is too short to be wallowing.  Pull yourself together, lady!  Thanks, Self, duly noted.

The onset of my bad day began at 5:32 yesterday morning when I sleepily stumbled from that ill-fated side.  I had planned to get a productive start to my day, but that apparently was not in the cards.  I have spent the past 100+ hours endlessly dog paddling in the murky waters of the job search pool.  I have tried to keep my wits about me but when faced with laborious application systems that are incapable of actually working, I start to hear the little cuckoo cuckoo bird going off in my head.

I want to spend this – short, in the grand scheme of life – time off with Aiden; playing games, making crafts, singing songs and the like.  He is only a toddler for so long! Instead, I have been dropping him at the sitter just so that I can find time to really look for a part-time job. 

Soon my toddler will be in school, ready to tackle the world, waving bye-bye as he boards the big yellow bus.  I, however, will be gripping the stop sign pole for support as I heave between sobs.  Awkward glances from passersby and all, I welcome it.  Now, though, I am desperately trying to find a good work-life balance…and a little sanity. 

Mamas of the world, I know you are singin’ this tune.  Honestly, in some aspect or other, we – mom or not – are all minstrels of the same song.  Life is about a balance, which we all struggle to find…and, more importantly, keep.

* * *

“I am SUPERHERO AIDEN!  Here to SAVE the day!” 

As I walked down the hall, I saw my little love bug wearing nothing but a cape, diaper and Spiderman snow boots.  I could feel the icy hold of my bad morning slowly starting to melt.  Annoyances dripping off my body onto the wood floor as I walked towards Aiden’s room.  Drip, drip, drip…

My little superhero - cape, diaper, boots and all :)

“How long have you been up, Superhero Aiden?

“I have been up saving people, Superhero Mommy.” 

Superhero Mommy?  Huh, I kind of like the sound of that.  At that moment, irritation’s sinister takeover plan was foiled by my very own superhero and I was reminded that I, Superhero Mommy, had the antidote all along.

As I continue to look for the right part time job to supplement income while I pursue writing /consulting, I will wear my cape in all its glory.  Irritability beware, I am learning more lessons as I go.  I am Superhero Mommy and together with Superhero Aiden we are here to save the day!  

Always making me smile

A reminder...

Aiden is a good little toddler and always very curious...

“Mommy, I had a gooooood nap.  Can we go to the library now?”

While working on my last blog post, this – spoken in a sweet, squeaky, post-nap voice – is what I heard coming from Aiden’s room.  As I leaned my desk chair back and peered out of my office, all I saw was a mop of crazy, sleep-spiked hair peeking out behind the baby gate blocking the doorway of his “big-boy” room.

I quickly released the gate pressure and kissed his nose.  “Yes, let’s go!”  When a toddler’s request is actually granted, it is as if time stands still.  In an instant Aiden’s shoes were on, hair was flattened and coat buttoned.  Without hesitation, we were in the car, ready to go, only moments later.  Ahhhhh, if only we could leave the house with such ease every day.

This was our first official trip to the library.  Aiden’s treatment and recovery didn’t afford us many opportunities to go to very public places.  Now that Aiden has no restrictions and I am taking some time off, I have decided to jump at these chances and relish in all of life’s simple pleasures.  Aiden, of course, had an objective in mind: Curious George books and lots of them.

Ashburn library was packed as we made our way to the information desk; we were in need of a library card.  As I filled out paperwork, Aiden again shared his love of George with the librarian. She obliged his adoration with a description of her favorite tale about the trouble-seeking monkey – George Visits the Library. 

We spent a max of 10 minutes in the Children’s section after locating the H A Rey books.  Aiden found what he wanted and, after bargaining with him to not take the entire Curious George collection, we left with our loot.  Aiden wanted to read his new library books with mommy in his rocking chair.

Aiden loved coloring at the library (while keeping close tabs on his books, of course)

That evening I held my little love-bug and gently rocked back and forth feeling his soft, damp, towel-dried hair against my cheek.  I simultaneously breathed in the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla that had soaked his little body only minutes earlier.  I was truly relishing in the moment and treasuring every millisecond.

“READ THIS ONE, MOMMY!” 

Aiden was emphatically shaking Curious George Goes to the Hospital in my face.  In an instant, I returned to the present, awoken from my little reverie.  The worn plastic book cover crackled as I opened it and began to read.  As we got deeper and deeper into the story (it was a long one) I noticed Aiden was hanging onto every, single word.

(SPOILER ALERT – Unbeknownst to the man in the yellow hat, George swallows a puzzle piece.  He quickly becomes symptomatic and is brought to the hospital.  Following imaging, an endoscopic procedure is performed to remove the impediment.  George recovers then causes trouble but ends up saving the day.)

Right after reading that George received an x-ray, Aiden asked me if George was also going to “get a shot and go in the big machine.” 

My heart literally stopped.

Aiden was speaking of the imaging and tests that he gets done.  I quickly said, “Yes, George will go in the big machine just like you.”  I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I swallowed away the urge to cry.  I was so thankful that Aiden was on my lap facing the book.  He is quite intuitive for his age and can tell when mommy is sad.

So….there I rocked…realizing that my little baby is truly a little baby no more.

Aiden then showed me the crook of his left arm where he had received his last blood draw.  A small yellow-purple bruise started back at us.  Aiden likes to show off his “blood” as he calls it. 

The most recent time Aiden received scans and blood work, he put up a fight.  The second we entered the imaging room at the hospital, he clung to my body and begged me to take him home.  Honestly, stepping in front of the “big machine” I felt the exact same way.  Helplessly, I hugged his little body and covered his head with a million kisses.  The anesthesia worked quickly while the incredibly kind anesthesiologist sang nursery rhymes.

Aiden is thriving and developing, as a three-year old should, which is amazing given all that he has been through. Like George, though, Aiden is often very curious.  Even though I would like to encapsulate the times we go in for scans and visit the oncologist, I realize that Aiden may in fact be seeking more information now.  I don’t plan to sit my three-year old down and talk about cancer per-say, but I do plan to offer him an outlet to express his feelings.

Aiden should feel safe and in control.  I think that it may be time to visit the radiology office for fun; let Aiden meet with some of the doctors and see some pictures.  Having worked for many years in radiology marketing, I am fortunate to have imaging contacts that feel like family.

 After tucking Aiden into his toddler bed, adorned with Curious George sheets, he asked me if George was going to be okay.  “Yes, George is brave little monkey just like you.”  With a big smile on his face, we kissed goodnight. 

As I turned off his bedroom light and shut the door, I again heard that squeaky, sleep-laden voice, “I love you, mommy.”

“…and I love you my sweet, big boy.”

The Day-After: before, during and following

-BEFORE-

My phone – alert and ready – was plugged into the charger, ringer on high.  I, on the other hand, was anything but …

Several minutes earlier I had been lying on the guest bed at my parent’s home. Aiden was asleep on one side of me and my mother was situated on the other.  I had just finished reading how the Bearenstein Bears tackled the commercialization of Christmas – at least that was my take – when Aiden let the weight of his sleepy eyes drift him off to dreamland.  Apparently, my whispery naptime voice also worked on my mother.

I stealthily slinked out of the bed as to not interrupt their slumber and walked the familiar hallway down to my parent’s room.  The afternoon sun was at its brightest which did not bode well for my sleep-strained eyes and throbbing headache.  Shielding my face, I quickly shut the blinds and made my way back to the bed.  I needed to rest, but sleep was out of the question; after all, I had to be alert and ready.

When hit by the bus of pure, raw exhaustion, though, not even limitless cups of Starbucks Dark Roast can save you.  I was THAT tired.  So there I sat – yes, sat – with two pillows propping me up while sleep consumed me.  It must have been 45 minutes or so later that my phone rang and, yes, I missed the call.

When I finally opened my eyes, I leapt from the bed almost entirely missing the nightstand housing my phone.  Regaining my balance, I clicked the phone screen awake and saw the missed number.  Aiden’s oncologist had called which meant the preliminary results of his scans were likely in.  At that moment, though, all I could see was the little red dot signifying 1 new voicemail.

After what seemed like an eternity, I got through the prompts and listened to the message. 

“…We will be reviewing Aiden’s scans at radiology rounds on Thursday.  I did speak with the radiologist, though, and Aiden’s MRI and CT show no evidence of residual or recurrent disease…”

Exhaustion was immediately replaced with elation.  So much so, that I couldn’t seem to utter a word.  I somehow made it down to the kitchen where I found my little munchkin enjoying a snack and some Memaw-time (Memaw is the name Aiden gave my mom).  I immediately entangled his little body with my own.  At some-point during the embrace, I shared the wonderful news with my mother.  Calls to daddy and other family members soon followed.

Aiden after hearing the great news (and after I released him from our huge hug)

*  *  *

-DURING-

Originally I had planned to write about the beauty that is encompassed in the day following good results.  Unfortunately, the Wednesday after Aiden’s scans did not go as smoothly as I expected…

(This entry has nothing to do with Aiden’s health; my little superhero is still doing great!)

I woke Wednesday morning as if I was breathing for the first time.  Stepping on the back deck, I slowly swallowed mouthfuls of crisp, cool morning air.  I felt the icy breeze awaken my body as I gazed onto the pond behind our home.  A few ducks were at the waters edge while early morning joggers ran around the perimeter.  I saw the beauty around me but more importantly, I felt it.

Receiving news of Aiden’s continued good health was invigorating.  The day-after is always the best because the next set of routine scans are the furthest away.  Worry is replaced with gratitude and hope persists.  I love the day-after.

On this day-after, though, I was tested.

Earlier, when I spoke of my exhaustion it wasn’t due entirely to worry.  I had been up working on a client request until the wee hours of the morning.  Having just recently begun this professional relationship, I felt it important to heed the request.  Oh, how very wrong I was…

Aiden’s day of imaging was grueling and I was at a disadvantage mentally, physically and emotionally.  Though I felt such relief following his good findings, I was still recovering from the magnitude of it all and “it” is a pretty big burden to bear.

Around noon, on the day-after, it came to light that my new client…my first client…my only client and I would not be able to maintain a healthy working relationship.  I know it boiled down to skewed expectations but I have never been broken down in such a way professionally before; I was in shock.  Though, it was expressed that I was in fact “right” for the job, I knew that the job was in no way right for me.

I felt like I had failed…again.

I left a traditional job only to turn around and sever ties with my first contract.  My life isn’t “normal” and I need more flexibility to tend to Aiden’s appointments, needs, etcetera.  None-the-less, I felt as if I was the common denominator.  The series of events that made up my day-after turned out to be anything but invigorating.  I was embarrassed and worried about the loss of income going forward.

Exhaustion, that had been lying dormant to elation, again surfaced.  This time, though, I did not fight it.

*  *  *

-FOLLOWING-

The next morning, I woke with a sense of clarity and awareness.  I knew that I needed to chalk this misstep up to a learning experience and move forward.  I officially cut-ties with my client on this day-after the day-after.  Life is just too precious to be wasted crying and worrying about a job; that act alone is telling in and of it’s self.

I hugged Aiden so tightly that morning and thanked him for making me so very strong.  He is the reason that I am a better person.  I know what is important in life and what is not.  Though I have never felt confident calling myself the best at anything, I know that I am a good mom and that is by far the most rewarding job I will ever have.

* * *

Today I am at a crossroads.  I am not really sure where my professional life will take me (don’t worry, honey, I am still working on it) but – in the meantime – I am thinking about giving this “writing-thing” more of a shot.  I will be blogging regularly and hope to explore some other writing/speaking opportunities while possibly working on some small-scale consulting gigs.  For now, I am thoroughly enjoying some extra time with the loves of my life.

NOTES-TO-SELF:

1.     Sleep; alertness cannot be feigned.

2.     Live every moment like the day-after; again, tiny moments matter.

3.     You are a superwoman and don’t ever let a person, job or circumstance tell you otherwise.

4.     Life has a plan so let go of presumptions and go with it.

5.     Do what you love – write out loud!