tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72012852024-03-23T11:22:49.462-07:00A Woman ChangedThe Slow and Often Painful Evolution of an Aging WomanJillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comBlogger599125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-4432875994371795542013-08-29T15:26:00.002-07:002013-08-29T15:26:46.770-07:00Free FallingI've been losing altitude for years.<br />
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Personal confidence. Professional esteem. Income growth. Personal accomplishments. Every year has seen a decline in all of these areas. Is this a normal part of aging? Not for everyone, I don't think so. So why is this my reality? Will my MoJo ever be recovered? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">How long can one Wallow and still be able to pull out of it? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">I'm utterly and completely stalled out. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">And so it goes. Until I decide to make it otherwise.</span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-68522433439686172772013-08-20T13:38:00.002-07:002013-08-20T13:38:41.956-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">How is it possible to wake up one day and realize that you have whittled your life down to just a few areas of focus? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Child. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Husband. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">House. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">1-2 dinners with neighbors per month. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Cleaning. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Facebook. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Damn, I used to be fun! Spirited and effervescent! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Now, I'm like a tired, old donkey. Don't want to move around too much. No longer surprised when someone tries to hurt me or tease me. Just want my food and water and a cool spot in the shade.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">I'm at a crossroads right now and need to make a decision. Do I step back into life and experience new risks, joys and surprises? Get back into shape and be active again? Drag my butt out of this BarcaLounger and get out of the house?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> Or do I roll over and play dead? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Just as I've been doing for the last 3 months.</span><br />
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Lots of people get laid off from their jobs. This pity party really needs to end.<br />
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Hee Haw.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-75231870972924966612011-08-19T05:09:00.000-07:002011-08-19T05:25:16.271-07:00ContainmentWe have a plan. An overwhelming, large and uncertain plan.
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<br />And I honestly don't know what is worst - the overwhelmingly large number of things we have to accomplish or the utter uncertainty of it all.
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<br />I want to live in a house that is smaller and more manageable. I'm tired of dealing with 5 things wrong or broken at the same time. And we have too much stuff. Nice stuff, silly stuff, fun stuff. Most of it packed away and not really used all that much.
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<br />I want to be a part of a neighborhood where the people are more like us. Seeing kids ride bikes down the street or connecting with neighbors in their front yards while they mow the lawn or plant flowers.
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<br />It's a simpler life that I want - one with less square footage and maintenance responsibility. One that includes a sense of peace over the community we live in. Where we are comfortable being our selves and living around people who can swing over for burgers on the weekend without it being a big Shebang.
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<br />There's a lot of worry over the real estate market right now. Uncertainty on how we will sell the house with so many others on our street listed at the same time. All of the fixing and improvements that must be done before we list. How to balance all of that with two full time jobs and a 4 year old.
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<br />Details.
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<br />Tedious and relenting. They're keeping me up at night yet remaining immune from any sense of logic.
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<br />But it's in my heart to make this change. For better or worse. For richer or poorer. Despite the overwhelming To-Do list and the Unknown.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-69011153303526781802011-04-28T20:33:00.000-07:002011-05-04T20:47:27.403-07:00Loco MotionIt's a certainty in life that the Unexpected will pop-up without warning. <br /><br />People you thought you knew say things that you never imagined would come out of their mouths. <br /><br />Friends you expected to share good times with for years to come suddenly tell you that they are moving to Ireland. In 2 months.<br /><br />Your son makes a random comment - out of the blue and with zero prompting - that is so raw and heartfelt that it moves you from complacency to Action.<br /><br />And so it is done. The wheels are in motion.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-25179834848761834442010-05-29T19:07:00.000-07:002010-05-29T19:18:43.782-07:00Life has been full of stress and worry...pure happiness and relief...sweet moments and intense focus.<br /><br />My ambition is thriving.<br />My energy is way, way Up.<br />I am consumed with a feeling of Excited Unease - chasing the goal and figuring out how to Make It Happen.<br /><br />Thank you, God.<br />For helping me stage a Comeback.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-14423248058471249702009-11-22T14:22:00.000-08:002009-11-22T14:56:09.783-08:00Six years ago, I walked through Pottery Barn Kids and cried.<br /><br />I was there to purchase a baby gift for a friend who had just given birth to her second child. I looked around the store and soaked in the bedding, the cute rugs, the furniture...cute and quaint things that screamed Babies! <br /><br />I was just lost in hopelessness. Utterly and completely unable to see how and when we would ever have kids of our own. So I moved through that store slowly and touched everything in sight. When I finally purchased the stuffed dog rocking chair for my friend, I cried. When I drove to the back of the store to have it loaded into my car, my heart plunged. When I tied the pink bow around its neck, I felt desperate pangs of envy. I hated myself for being so petty, so hurt, so barren.<br /><br />Six years later, we have the most loving, sweet and precious child that we get to raise. We play kickball in the house, make cookies, use the computer together and have water wars in the bathroom. My son frequently empties drawers throughout the house, he draws on walls and he curiously inspects every new item that comes through the door. Last night, he threw up all over me in bed. And lately, he's been grabbing my hand and telling me that He Loves Me.<br /><br />I love being a Mom. <br /><br />And I am so thankful that it happened. To us. Before it was too late. Before I gave up and stopped trying.<br /><br />I've been thinking a lot about the lesson in all of that. Embracing the concept that good things happen over time. Working hard to understand how important it is to never lose hope. <br /><br />At the edge of despair lies joyful times.<br /><br />Hold on.<br />Hold on.<br />Hold on.<br /><br />I'll try to hold my high this week when I'm told that my job has been eliminated. I'll do my best to take it in stride, and I'll look forward to what is Next. <br /><br />Because joy and peace of mind are possible. It isn't too late and it certainly ain't over. Wonderful is still out there within reach.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-47264620334821126742009-10-20T08:20:00.000-07:002009-10-20T08:22:17.935-07:00OK, who in their right mind would eat deep fried chicken skin bites?<br /><br />Apparently, a lot of people.<br /><br />http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/page/10<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Though, I have to admit...a couple of these dishes look really, really tasty!</span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-81469665839728860302009-10-04T13:59:00.000-07:002009-10-04T14:13:52.467-07:00I had an odd epiphany today.<br /><br />The longer I wallow in my grief and sadness...the longer I will stay there.<br /><br />Hmm. It felt so much wiser in my head, but now I see it written on paper and I just want to say, Duh. <br /><br />I've been very hard on myself over these last 5 years. Scornful of my inability to save my parents and nurse them through terminal illnesses. Absolutely punishing over the fact that I didn't see my sister's impending death and tell her how much I loved her. Feeling like an abject failure because I was no longer earning a solid income. Worthless and self-conscious because I'm overweight. Unsettled and fearful that more bad things will happen in a single moment. And depressed that I haven't lived up to my full potential.<br /><br />As I sorted through some photos from late 2006 and relived the moment of when Husband and I were chosen to adopt our son...all of the self-blame and anger and heaviness lifted. I relived the joy of being selected, the wonderment of having a new baby in our home and the simply beauty of holding a swaddled baby in my arms.<br /><br />I've done the best that I can do and I've done a good job. And who the hell can blame me for breaking down over the loss of my sister, my parents, my father in law and my favorite cat? Who can rightfully be critical of me for fearing my son's unknown future? And why am I so ridiculously hard on myself for not being able to do More throughout all of these life-changing incidents?<br /><br />I'm done feeling badly about myself, and I'm done feeling as though I've made insurmountable mistakes.<br /><br />I'm Moving On.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-13841102705872464722009-10-04T09:44:00.000-07:002009-10-04T09:51:40.999-07:00Husband told me that he has a 15 year plan today. <br /><br />I sat and listened quietly in my stupefaction. I was thrilled on a visceral level, but at the same time, I couldn't stop thinking "It's about time!"<br /><br />Early in our marriage, I used to book weekend trips specifically so we could carve out a Master Plan together. Husband wouldn't do it. He's a very Live in the Now kind of guy and was perfectly happy drifting along in any 'ol direction. Retirement? Doesn't think about it. Moving to different house? Not happening now so won't talk about it. <br /><br />A couple of years back, our COBRA ran out and it was impossible to discuss it with him. He didn't have any urgency to get a job or health care coverage because in that moment, we still had insurance.<br /><br />Now, he wants to bang-out a 15 year plan. <br /><br />I've waited a long time for this. I am going to enjoy every second of the process.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-59079052099460835112009-09-26T06:46:00.001-07:002009-09-27T12:51:42.200-07:00I am shocked by the number of age spots on my hands. My skin is starting to get crinkly on the backs of my hands and my fingers are looking wrinkled and slightly shiny...something that I associate with my grandmothers. <br /><br />How did this happen?<br /><br />I have been so consumed by <span style="font-style:italic;">life </span>in recent years, that I have failed to recognize how quickly I was aging. Now I'm looking at myself and thinking, "OMG. Reverse! Reverse!"<br /><br />Ever-so-slowly, there are these weird lines forming around my mouth. So despite waxing and bleaching, I still look like Tom Selleck...which is not a good look for a woman/mother who has to hang out with other mothers at least 10 years younger... because she is OLD. And spotty.<br /><br />And I don't even want to touch on the effects of gravity.<br /><br />My love and inner spirit seem boundless and suspended in a place where there are no clocks or gradual decay. <br /><br />What a strange dichytomy.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-15537557065216473052009-09-26T06:37:00.000-07:002010-05-29T19:06:02.315-07:00The birthday party was almost like a dream come true. I sat back in the room and watched a group of sweet, giggling kids blow horns, make art and eat huge pieces of cake. Then they rumbled over who got the reds balloons, stomped their feet and ran out of the place laughing and sorting through their goodie bags. <br /><br />The laughter and playfulness were precious. I've got tons of silly photos. They are the best.<br /><br />Seriously, how did we ever get so lucky? <br /><br />I am so blessed.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-61740984180044502482009-09-07T07:23:00.000-07:002009-09-07T07:59:55.627-07:00A Complex PathI was thinking about being a Good Parent yesterday when I booked my son's party at the local jumpy jump room. <br /><br />Mom never threw a birthday party for me, which I ended up resenting. Therefore I will not repeat that pattern with my son. Does that make me a Good Parent...or even a Better Parent?<br /><br />It eases my emotional strife but Son doesn't know the difference. <br /><br />Will he look back at his life and remember all of the things <span style="font-style:italic;">I didn't do</span> much the way I look back at my own childhood? <br /><br />In my early twenties, I had come to peace with my family and upbringing and forged forward in my life unaffected.<br /><br />Then came the wedding persecution, the dna test, the psychotic behavior, the sickness, my attempts to rescue and the ultimate loss. I made it through my traumatic childhood and then got KO'd in my adulthood.<br /><br />And I'm angry. <br /><br />For having to put up with all of that shit. For not being able to manage turmoil and a thriving career at the same time. For breaking down and losing my self. For not being able to pull it together, have kids or at least start the adoption process earlier. For squandering so much opportunity and ending up here. Low level career. My son in daycare (preschool is a feel-better name). For allowing myself to live in anger and resentment. That's something like Anger Squared or to the nth degree.<br /><br />I should have done Better. <br /><br />And all these thoughts roll through my brain as I mull over cake toppers for my son's birthday party. <br /><br />Something so simple and yet...Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-55057462338897470132009-09-06T07:39:00.000-07:002009-09-06T07:47:32.642-07:00It's an unbelievably gorgeous day. Stunning, pink-hued sunrise. A squirrel in the pine tree just off the upstairs deck. Sprinklers running in sync that provide a cool mist in the air. A mug of hot coffee and a handful of cashews.<br /><br />Sweet.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-82404604798153391402009-09-04T19:21:00.000-07:002009-09-04T19:29:33.771-07:00I have a secret. <br /><br />One that I don't talk about with my husband. Similar to the way I don't want to talk about right-wing talk radio. I am a liberal conservative and talk radio - while important - just doesn't interest me. I'm tired of listening to extremists on both sides who exist on Shock Appeal. Thanks, Howard. You've had a noteworthy impact on American culture.<br /><br />But I digress.<br /><br />I am going to link to an article that is part of a collection that I just couldn't stop reading. And this particular essay <span style="font-style:italic;">talks </span>to me.<br /><br />A lot of people will tell me that I am not a True Christian. (My husband included.) And that's OK because they aren't the Final Judge...and I respect that they have their own opinion, their own path. <br /><br />http://www.newsweek.com/id/212155Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-28054676849499378562009-08-30T14:03:00.000-07:002009-08-30T14:48:40.806-07:00RamblingsMy friends run the gamut in terms of net worth. And if you were to ask any of them to describe themselves, I believe they would all categorize themselves as Good People.<br /><br />You know, people who donate their time and money to charitable causes. People who generally don't break the law. People who work hard to earn a good living. People who don't intentionally hurt others or small animals.<br /><br />And yet...pretty much 100% of them oppose health care reform. They frequently make statements on their blogs that there is No Problem and Nothing Needs to Get Fixed.<br /><br />God, but I disagree.<br /><br />I know so many people who don't go to the doctor because they simply can't afford it. I know that a large percentage of bankruptcies happen because of hospital bills (I'm too lazy to research/quote the exact figure, but it's something like 40%). I work with a cancer-survivor who doesn't go in for an annual check up because her <span style="font-style:italic;">deductible </span>is $3,000. Yep, that's the best option for the company's group health plan.<br /><br />I'm not going to pretend that I know the answer, but I do know that there is a problem. <br /><br />Five years ago, I may have shared my friends' opinions. However, these last four years have reshaped my perception and judgmentalness (not a real word, I know!) I am much more accepting and less indignant. And I understand that I have a <span style="font-style:italic;">very </span>blessed life. <br /><br />People are fragile and despite our best intentions, things don't always work out. Many of us are able to provide for ourselves and enjoy access to health care coverage. And yet, millions are not.<br /><br />I guess my sensitivity to this is born from the stark realization that any of us can be in that position at any given time. It doesn't take much.<br /><br />It occurred to me recently that my options are dwindling. I left the working world for about 4 years and have really taken a hit financially and socially. It's been extremely humbling. I didn't get hired to do a job that I did for three years in California. I don't even have the words to describe how shocking and painful this was for me. <br /><br />I have also been living in a state of panic this year. Husband was laid off in January and I have been frantically trying to encourage him to get a job. Living in a persistent state of fear is...exhausting...and that mindset along with my abject impotence in the working world left me Wordless. <br /><br />I can write about anger or self-righteousness or happiness or even health issues. But financial fear and career fear leave me paralyzed. Hence, no updates.<br /><br />When Husband told me that he got a job offer about a week ago, I started to sob. For the first time in a very long time, our income will cover our bills.<br /><br />I'm hopeful and grateful. And I've changed. I don't take anything for granted. Not income, not vacations, not family, and not health care.<br /><br />My world is less insulated now. I'm older and less presumptuous.<br /><br />It feels right.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-87528547255655224082009-08-15T14:53:00.000-07:002009-08-15T14:55:53.182-07:00It's been a long time, and I'm still at a loss over what to write.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-69114649919105919282009-07-07T19:39:00.000-07:002009-07-07T19:55:52.404-07:00There are so many things that I simply don't understand:<br /><br />Exactly who invented the word Lollygag?<br /><br />Why do I seem to think that I can hear myself think?<br /><br />Why don't I dream in color any more?<br /><br />Why do I continue to say, "At the end of the day..."? <br /><br />Why won't my husband actively look for a job?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-32642541428069219502009-06-14T17:43:00.000-07:002009-06-21T09:52:41.242-07:00I soaked in the coolness of the bath water and willed my fever to disappear. When I'm overheated, I tend to talk outloud to my mom, my sister and my Siamese cat. My one-way conversation with all three had me sounding very wise and knowledgeable - that, I remember...although I'm at a loss to repeat exactly what was discussed.<br /><br />One of the concepts that finally seeped into my brain was: You can't throw away your life when other people die. <br /><br />I know several people who have lost more family members that I have - and yet they move forward, continue to thrive and deal with their grief strictly on an internal level.<br /><br />I didn't do that. I ditched most everything that I had in my life to hide away and rebuild.<br /><br />For the first few years, I didn't care. My goal was to get lost and sort things out. But now...something is growing inside of me that wants me to Return. I see photos of my California friends having lunch together, and I get very sad. I don't have any friends like that here...the ones that take years to cultivate and become family.<br /><br />I long to have my old job and be back in the Groove. But the thing that really made that meaningful was my old boss and my direct reports. Most everyone is gone.<br /><br />I don't want to move back to California, but I do miss the beach. Trader Joe's. Half Moon Bay. Sausalito. Monterey. St. Helena. Burlingame Ave. The Farmer's Market in San Francisco. Driving across the Bay Bridge. My old neighbors. And our multi-racial, highly friendly church. <br /><br />I'm not sad, and I don't want to go back to the life that I used to have - I am just hopeful that I can put my life back together in some similar ways. I've made some tiny inroads but suffered a couple of huge disappointments. Sometimes I wonder if I have isolated myself to the point of Has-Been-ness.<br /><br />All of this was running through my mind as I sat in the bath tub and fought the high fever. And it dawned on me that I've come a long way - which is good, since I cut most everything and everyone out of my life so I could deal with my trauma.<br /><br />If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't have been so extreme.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-7207422720257849472009-05-17T05:23:00.000-07:002009-05-17T05:44:33.230-07:00I've had to give up on my yearning to adopt another baby. I'm 46 years old, working full time now, and I want to send my son to private school. My husband is not working and wants to start a new career. He's in his early 50s. It just feels as though that train has left the station.<br /><br />Sometimes I sit back and observe the amount of doting/complete loving attention that our son receives daily. A friend recently noted, "Your son is the most well-loved child that I have ever seen. Every time I drive by and see you all in the front yard, I feel as though I could take a snapshot of you in a perfect family moment."<br /><br />Our son has never been taken for granted and having him has given us renewed hope in life and our purpose on this earth. His arrival in our lives came at a critical moment when mortality was shrouding our entire existence. <br /><br />I honestly don't know if it's possible to love a child too much. And I have a deep sadness knowing that Son will never have a brother. Despite the love and attention that we give to him, he'll never have a sibling to confide in, discover with, shout at, be jealous of. All that good, healthy, normal stuff that happens in larger families.<br /><br />I wish I was 10 years younger.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-14103948236475327662009-04-26T10:12:00.000-07:002009-04-26T10:16:02.853-07:00I received my first paycheck after 4 years. It was...liberating. I feel as though I'm returning to my old, old self. Not the sad and tired old self but the invigorated and happy old self. And it's even better now because I have my son, I'm in Colorado and my husband is happy.<br /><br />Today, the sky is vibrant blue and little brown birds are building nests all around our backyard. <br /><br />We are all at peace.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-77849586109488112342009-03-31T11:31:00.000-07:002009-03-31T11:54:48.460-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a5qfkKCPrg8/SdJmIGs_nUI/AAAAAAAAAnM/esELfiV78i4/s1600-h/j0227554.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a5qfkKCPrg8/SdJmIGs_nUI/AAAAAAAAAnM/esELfiV78i4/s400/j0227554.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319426399302294850" /></a><br /><br />After four long years, this is my last week of being unemployed.<br /><br />I wanted to get lost in suburbia. I lost my ambition and desire to be out in the world. I mourned my sister and mom while taking care of dad through heart attack(s), strokes, rehab and Coumadin. Then I mourned my father while I took care of my new baby's oxygen, rehab and chronic lung disease. We dealt with so many illnesses, his folder at the doctor's office became thicker than a phone book. Then suddenly, my son was ready for pre-school, and I found myself home alone three days a week. Catching up on old business, reconnecting with old friends and starting to care about being healthy and looking good again.<br /><br />I reached a Tipping Point where it became <span style="font-style:italic;">imperative </span>that I go back to work. My brain was ready to be jump-started and my ambition slowly reignited inside my belly.<br /><br />I have learned so much over these four years. My demeanor has shifted radically, I am caught-up on sleep (Thank You Ambien!), my son is healthy and doing great, and I no longer suffer over what my husband is doing or not doing (career-wise). <br /><br />I absolutely adore my family, our home life, the house and our home town. I feel balanced and recharged and ready to take on new challenges. I have finally, finally been able to identify some new life's goals. Two years ago, I came up empty in trying to create a list. I felt lost and senseless at the time, but things are so much different now.<br /><br />If anyone would have ever told me that I would be back in a place of happiness and contentment, I would have burst out laughing facetiously. <br /><br />But here I am. Surprisingly, in one piece and impatient to start Moving Forward.<br /><br />Damn, it's been a hard and intense journey. It feels nice to see sunshine again.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-70440003050974680252009-03-28T08:09:00.000-07:002009-03-28T08:11:18.898-07:00I know that I should be ecstatic that I have a new job, and I'm working on it. At the very least, I'm grateful.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-9690254529022731052009-03-24T14:49:00.000-07:002009-03-24T14:51:24.296-07:00I am about to walk right into a sink hole.<br /><br />I've been warned about it.<br />I see it.<br />And I'm going in. Knowingly.<br /><br />For the money. For the benefits. For my family.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-75203584522646997362009-03-13T12:05:00.000-07:002009-03-13T12:17:12.885-07:00Dare to DreamI interviewed for a position yesterday that I have decided to not pursue. It's in a dying industry at a company that is well-known for it's lack of commitment to its employees. I didn't even care for the person I met (which is very rare). She stated 3 times that SHE was the one who should have been promoted to VP. Instead, that new person scuttled her off to a different, less-profitable division. She was still very angry. <br /><br />Today, I received a call from a company that I applied to about 2 months ago. I am so excited, my hair is standing on end. I have a call out to a former colleague to get me up to speed on the industry, and I've scheduled a mock interview with a job coach. I learned a lot from my meeting yesterday. I am rusty, dusty and slow...and need some help jump-starting my inner engines.<br /><br />If the job is the one posted on the company web site, I will be in for a tough ride. But I don't care. I want to work. I want to manage sales people again. I want to earn an income. And I want a chance to learn to balance my life effectively this time.<br /><br />I think I can do it.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201285.post-54455917300689020022009-03-05T10:41:00.000-08:002009-03-05T11:00:09.060-08:00I haven't written in a while because I have the Blah's. <br /><br />I know that I have no right to feel down. My husband and I are blessed in so many ways - the baby being the number one, most amazing gift that we have ever received. I am so thankful for his birth and our being chosen to adopt him. It's impossible to succinctly put into words how he has added joy and meaning to our lives. Having him is the closest thing to heaven on earth, I think.<br /><br />In the meantime, I am still unemployed. The outfit that didn't hire me back in August called a couple of weeks ago about a different position. We were scheduled to meet last Friday, but the director canceled 1 hour before our meeting with a side note that we would meet sometime this week. I haven't heard from her since - despite my two phone calls. I know. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."<br /><br />I think it's pretty clear that I need to go in a different direction. I've been taking time to meditate/pray every day to insure I'm following the right path, but my hope has been waning. Which is why I haven't been blogging much this year.<br /><br />I saw an employment coach last week and he agrees that my recent time spent not working (taking care of my dad and our son) is going to hurt me. I need to do the thing that I hate the most: Get out, meet people and network. <br /><br />Listen, I tried to explain. I am a work horse. Give me a job to do and I will do everything that I can to be successful. I'll work long hours. I'll challenge the corporate sacred cows. I'll take on additional duties so I can learn and contribute more. I will physically exhaust myself so that I.can.be.successful. For better or worse, that is who I am. I am not a social networker. Going to a networking event without a specific business purpose is pretty much on par with going out to a bar. I don't do good schmooze.<br /><br />My coach tells me that this is a huge liability and that I must change. So here I sit, resisting that which I must do because it just isn't who I am. <br /><br />I miss the good old days when I used to get called for interviews easily and frequently. This current situation makes me feel very down about the economy and very old. <br /><br />So this is why I haven't blogged in a while. I know that I have used this blog in the past to rant and release extreme feelings that I didn't overtly share with others. It was a good outlet and allowed me to stay in bounds without spewing anger in real life. I don't want to do that anymore. I mean spew in writing. <br /><br />I just want to stay in a place of gratitude for all that we have in our lives. <br /><br />Have I mentioned that I will be very, very grateful when I find a job?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07113523872827443664noreply@blogger.com